I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
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Then this
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
This is the day
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
Saying goodbye to Smiths Knoll
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
The Good, in memory of Anna Craft
My friend and colleague Anna Craft has died. She was famous -if that is the right word- as a researcher…
T.S. Eliot’s ‘Hysteria’
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
Coming home to Aldeburgh
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. Robert Frost…
Teaching people who hate poetry
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
Losing my ambition
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
Poetry exhaustion
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
When one poet rescues another poet
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
Eating Outside, by Stephen Berg
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
My hero: Michael Laskey
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
To my cancer
I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer. Instead of posting new work I…
Taking a break
With the exception of some posts about poets featured at this year’s Aldeburgh Poetry Festival, I am going to…
The People of the Other Village, by Thomas Lux
One of the poets I am most looking forward to listening to at the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival in November is…
Holidays, not term time
Never having succeeded at school, I’ve always thought of poetry as the holidays, not term time. Hugo Williams In November…
Just one thing
It all started with two remarks, one by a friend, the other by a stranger at work. ß The friend’s…