Lifesaving Lines: The Day After, by Michael Laskey

The line that’s been buzzing round my head this week is the final phrase from Michael Laskey’s miracle poem of … More

Praise the Rain

Praise the Rain Praise the rain; the seagull diveThe curl of plant, the raven talk—Praise the hurt, the house slackThe … More

Bike You, who have borne three sons of mine, still bear my weight routinely, transporting me. An odd … More

As we draw to the end of NaBloPoMo, I have invited Josephine Corcoran to collaborate with me on a joint-interview. … More

Try to Praise the Mutilated World Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, … More

It was a huge privilege to share poems in workshops I gave at the Greenbelt festival last weekend. Here is … More

‘Did you hear?’ says the book. ‘Ted Hughes’s brother has died.’ ‘I did see that, yes,’ I say. ’95, though. … More

A Rainy Morning A young woman in a wheelchair, wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain, is pushing … More

Some writers influence you through the pull of their imagination on your work, opening up new worlds as you read … More

I have been sorting. I have been chucking. It’s been the recurring theme over the last eighteen months. I cleared … More

In terms of my poetry world, 2015 has turned out to be a year of endings and legacies. The Poetry … More

Don’t miss tomorrow’s guest blog post by Naomi Jaffa, in which she reminisces about two of her favourite poets from … More

because of the words and because of the books because of the woman in the anorak at the swimming baths … More

My first reader was a man called Fergus. A friend of a flatmate at university, I never got to … More

I have so much to be grateful for in 2014. The year began in one of my temporary fits … More

During the Christmas period I am reposting some old posts from my archive. Wishing all my readers a very … More

During the Christmas period I am reposting some old posts from my archive. Wishing all my readers a very happy … More

Dan O’Brien began by saying he wasn’t really a poet, but a ‘moonlighting playwright’. Selima Hill took out her glasses, … More