This Saturday and Sunday I am selling signed limited edition (there were a couple of typos on the blurb, and the world century instead of millennium in one poem) copies of my collection ‘It’s All In The Blood’ for £5.00. (UK Postage included.)
There are 35 copies available at the reduced price. The discount ends Sunday at midnight.
If you would like to buy a copy then please let me know in the comments below, or email firstname.lastname@example.org
For anyone wishing to purchase outside the UK there is a slight increase to cover postage:
Does poetry need to rhyme? I’ve touched on this topic before and received quite a bit of feedback from other poets on WordPress, more so than I would normally receive on these style of posts. It’s a conversation that sparks debate in poetry groups of Facebook as well. I notice it cropping up when poets are asked “what piece of feedback have you received and chosen to ignore.”
In secondary school, I started writing poetry and I shared one of my poems with a friend. Her response was limited to ‘it doesn’t rhyme’, and with that she declared it wasn’t really a poem. It was an experience that taught me how black and white opinions around art can be. Something is a poem, or it isn’t, and the criteria to make it so is very specific. In reality, poetry occupies a strange spectrum where the style on one end, is utterly removed from the style at the other. Everything in-between is still poetry.
The first of March almost got away from me! While January dragged on, February seems to have vanished from beneath my feet before I could really get a grip on the month. We had a slight increase in the number of participants for February, so I’ve got some reading to catch up on.
Today is the first day we have risked the washing line. The sheets go out first, pale faced in the morning brightness, skirts scattering about wind born legs. The sweaters are more resilient to such weather, they slouch from their pegs warming slowly arms raised like they are reaching to pin themselves in place. Caught by their knees, dresses fold over hang like school children from trees laughter in their fluttering. The garden becomes a gathering, loud in their wet chatter. Today is the first day we have risked a washing line, hope goes out first.
To improve my sketching speed and techniques, I’m attempting to sit down and draw every day in February. I missed Friday, and yesterday’s and today’s doodles are both on the same page but I’ve already created a lot more art than I normally would in a month. I’m aiming for as much range in the images as I can so if you have any suggestions for things that I could have a go at drawing, then please drop them in the comments below.