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Clare's Official Site
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LINKS | clarepollard
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Clare's Official Site. Ink, Sweat and Tears. Jared A. Carnie. Poet on the Rocks. Stand up and Spit. Modern Poetry in Translation. Black-Eyed Susans, Gin-in-a-tin and Ledbury. Propaganda vs the People. Ink, Sweat and Tears. Jared A. Carnie. Poet on the Rocks. Stand up and Spit. Modern Poetry in Translation. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com. Follow “clarepollard”. Get every new post delivered to your Inbox. Join 3,790 other followers. Build a website with WordPress.com.
PRESS | clarepollard
https://clarepollard.wordpress.com/press
Clare's Official Site. Some Reviews of Clare’s Work:. Pollard, a wunderkind who wrote her first poetry collection while still at school, is a good match for the equally precocious Ovid…these are lively versions, seasoned with both agony and irony, reanimating Ovid’s originals. -Josephine Balmer,. This fourth collection from the Bolton-born, East London-living, wildly talented young poet is a total beauty. Edgy and alive, youthful and intelligenta particular strength of this collection is Pollard’s contem...
POEMS | clarepollard
https://clarepollard.wordpress.com/poems
Clare's Official Site. Some of Clare’s poems appear on The Poetry Archive. Some of Clare’s work also appears at Poetry International. We were alive that evening, on the north Yorkshire moors,. In a valley of scuffed hills and smouldering gorse. Pheasants strutted, their feathers as richly patterned. As Moroccan rugs, past the old Roma caravan. Candles, a rose-cushioned bed, etched glass. That I’d hired to imagine us gipsies. As our bacon and bean stew bubbled,. In your muddy boots, there in the wild.
poetclare | clarepollard
https://clarepollard.wordpress.com/author/poetclare
Clare's Official Site. Https:/ clarepollard.wordpress.com. Posts by Clare Pollard:. August 3, 2016. July 19, 2016. Black-Eyed Susans, Gin-in-a-tin and Ledbury. June 28, 2016. Propaganda vs the People. June 14, 2016. April 20, 2016. April 2, 2016. Af Klimt, Kaufman and Kane. March 16, 2016. Older Posts ». Black-Eyed Susans, Gin-in-a-tin and Ledbury. Propaganda vs the People. Ink, Sweat and Tears. Jared A. Carnie. Poet on the Rocks. Stand up and Spit. Modern Poetry in Translation. Blog at WordPress.com.
2015/1984 | clarepollard
https://clarepollard.wordpress.com/2015/05/13/20151984
Clare's Official Site. Laquo; In Dark Times: Some Thoughts on Political Poetry. May 13, 2015 by poetclare. So A Tory majority which is actually trying to scrap the actual human rights act. And today the BBC reports that Cameron is to say: “For too long, we have been a passively tolerant society, saying to our citizens ‘as long as you obey the law, we will leave you alone'”. To be a handbook for good governance, is about to put an end to Thoughtcrime. At the moment we are losing the fight with Doublethink...
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The Gleam of Light on Water: Coming into Flower
http://burnedthumbblog.blogspot.com/2013/06/coming-into-flower.html
The Gleam of Light on Water. Geo-poetics, permaculture and peace. Wherever We Live Now. Wednesday, 12 June 2013. There's a whole lot of progress and change going on in this territory. The herbs are full and lush, and sage and thyme are drying in the kitchen for the winter. The iris border has come magnificently into flower, all at once this time, instead of spreading itself out over a month. The lavenders I bought last summer are bulking up, and beginning to show their true colours. Lightmaker, a spark'&...
The word mines: Today
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2015/06/today.html
Friday, 26 June 2015. Today, I have been mostly going crazy. I observed, curiously, a jigsaw of clouds. And reached for their corollary in mere words – poetry. I watched paper darts cross the window hopefully. Longing for somewhere hopelessly. As if I could spear them with my melancholy. The day was night and night was day. I did not wear the mask of comedy or tragedy. Because I was mostly going crazy. Something odd stirred in the fig tree. I saw the devil’s face, a divinity. No opiate would sedate me.
The word mines: My father's clothes
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2015/07/my-dads-clothes.html
Thursday, 16 July 2015. You are waiting for me in the wardrobe. Your slouched shape persists in wool and cloth. A form that you once inhabited. Your old green cardigan, now touched with moth. Form without breath, for they have vanished. Your thick glasses, waiting by the bed. Your sherry, your daily crossword puzzle. Lives of the Engineers – the books you read. Like your spirit, they will rise to the attic. Your wedding photo, that lived on the TV. Boy at boarding school holding ball solemnly. Subscribe ...
The word mines: Fire man - an elegy
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2013/03/blowing-things-up.html
Thursday, 21 March 2013. Fire man - an elegy. In memory of my friend, David Hugo. Artist 1958 - 2012. I wish that I could talk to you. By text, email or Skype. Or, even better, travel by time machine. To our early experiments. With electricity and fire –. Primitive circuit boards, gunpowder. Then amplifiers and guitars. You were a pyrotechnician. A fire imp, a bellows man. Conducting an art room rebellion. We were the boys who liked prog. Van der Graaf Generator, Camel. The first gig I ever went to.
The word mines: Circus
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2015/04/circus_28.html
Tuesday, 28 April 2015. The colours of your grass theatre. You arrive with a tang of petrol. We admire what you do. You bring us glamour and danger. As you ride bareback, tumble and spin. Appearing to be boneless. You flex your elastic skin. On your Wheel of Death, your Globe of Terror. You claw back victory from calamity. We watch as you dance on air. You seem to defy our gravity. If we could, we would follow you. We are drawn by your weightless jeopardy. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). A gust of wi...
The word mines: Abacus
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-curtain-twitcher.html
Thursday, 16 October 2014. Using algorithms and calculus. Juggling with equations like Euclid. It draws a map of our loneliness. It knows what we desire, what we did. Peering through our curtains at night. It knows what we have done, where we have been. Stuttering in patterns of light. It seems to read our minds through its screen. We know that there’s something divine in us. That we are the flame to its spark. That it is merely a computer –. A grey box that glimmers in the dark –. A gust of wind. A gust...
The word mines: Fairy tale
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2015/05/no-fairy-tale.html
Friday, 15 May 2015. You were the sleeping beauty. And I a shadow – your courtier. On all of our puzzled journeys. At best, I was merely a follower. On our tangled routes I would. Interrogate your mystery, your art. As if some secret formula. Could unlock your frozen heart. There was no hope for me. No magic, no fleeting touch. Could cure my melancholy. And no kiss could ever wake you. Even in the deepest wood. I loved you; you never understood. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). A gust of wind. A gust ...
The word mines: My new shirt
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2012/10/my-new-shirt.html
Thursday, 4 October 2012. A weirdly-patterned Paisley relic. Pretending to be pyschedelic. First prize at the bad taste fair. As worn by the London cast of Hair. A ghastly mess of pink and brown. An empty theme park, now closed down. An eye-assaulting heart attack. A jarring garment at a disco. What straight men wear in San Francisco. A vicar trying to be cool. The boy you didn’t like school. A nylon-ruffled crooning dork. Playing a wine bar outside York. A drug tourist, a week-end raver. Its not a sack.
The word mines: Where am I?
http://willhatchett.blogspot.com/2009/08/where-am-i.html
Tuesday, 4 August 2009. You awake with a groan and cry out. Four-thirty, the light seems exhausted. I am tired. It must have been like this before she died. A sickly half-light, between night and day. My mum loving you, but ill. You head-strong, needy, self-absorbed. These days, you are more like a plant than a man. Existing, ingesting food, turned to the light. Your crosswords and Telegraph. You are half-blind. The white stuff does not work. Music does not reach you any more. Except to make you cry.
newbootsandpantisocracies.wordpress.com
DAY NINETY-SEVEN – Annie Freud | new boots and pantisocracies
https://newbootsandpantisocracies.wordpress.com/2015/08/16/day-ninety-seven-annie-freud
New boots and pantisocracies. 100 days of poetry for the austere generation. New Boots and Panties – the Ian Dury connection. New Boots: Report Card. Report Card #2 – The Editorial Process. DAY NINETY-SEVEN – Annie Freud. DAY NINETY-SEVEN – Annie Freud. August 16, 2015. August 5, 2015. I was in the. A pool of blood. More patients, arriving. With their documents,. And walked round it. A man in a cap. Halted at the edge. Of the pool of blood. Looked left, then right,. To see if any. But no one did. You are...
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Clare Three-Legged Stool Poets | poetry from County Clare, Ireland
Follow @clarepoets on twitter. Follow us on Facebook. We acknowledge the ongoing support of Clare County Council Arts Office. Clare Three-Legged Stool was founded in 2003 to celebrate the poetic work of men and women from North, South, and East - the three "halves" of Clare. There are at present some 16 members in the group which, to date, has produced two anthologies, a broadsheet, and Hidden Burren, a photographic essay on North Clare accompanied by verse. Friday 12th September 2014. MUXZ and open mic.
Clare Pohl - Home
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Clare Pollard
clarepollard | Clare's Official Site
Clare's Official Site. 8216;The Snowy Day’, and some picture books by BAME Writers. March 1, 2018 by poetclare. By Ezra Jack Keats (planning to try these snow angels once Cate wakes from her nap). It’s one of the most beautiful picture books I own, with that heartbreaking moment when Jack checks his pocket for the snowball and finds it empty. Amazing Grace, Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes. Though it is a total classic). 1) FULL OF LOVE, Trish Cooke illustrated by Paul Howard. About a big family Su...
Clare Portillo - NYC based mural artist
Clare Portillo is a British mural artist based in New York City. She has been commissioned for work in London, Barcelona and New York in both public spaces and residential homes. Let’s get in touch. Tel: 1.347.583.7909. NYC based mural artist. Welcome to Clare Portillo.com. NYC based mural artist. Welcome to Clare Portillo.com. CHELSEA PIERS FIELD HOUSE.
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