15 Jan 2019 / #Arvon50
The Literary Life
I have found my place at Lumb Bank,
a wooden bench outside the communal dining room,
away from the poets. I light my cigarettes,
smoke in the chill air of critique,
watching Ted Hughes’ abandoned garden hang
from the edge of a cliff it could fall over.
Ravens intimidate the silence
in dead trees on blue-black hills, blocking the sky,
trying to block the light of my mind.
I draw deeply on isolated addiction,
consider the destiny of my
overexposed and x-rayed words.
At this place, where rivals are star-crossed
bedfellows, across the black-rocked gulf,
I throw my doubt to the monument
made of all the cigarettes I am finished with.
Arvon turned 50 in 2018 and to celebrate we have collected the stories of writers far and wide who have a tale to tell about Arvon. The collection is published in our anniversary booklet and featured on our blog. This contribution is a poem by Irene Hossack. She attended an Arvon course tutored by Liz Lochhead and Matthew Sweeney at Lumb Bank and wrote ‘The Literary Life’ during her week there.
09 Apr 2019 / #Arvon50
By Tim Martindale
I am oak.
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The sentry guarding the…
02 Apr 2019 / #Arvon50
When I began writing poetry in the early 1970s I didn’t know anyone else who wrote poetry or had a serious…Read more
26 Mar 2019 / #Arvon50
The day that remembered itself
Sylvia Plath is buried in St. Thomas’s churchyard in Heptonstall, West Yorkshire.…