Siddhartha Bose - Kalagora, at the Edinburgh Festival 2011

I can't make this but if you can, you definitely should. Bose's poetry was for me possibly the highlight of Voice Recognition, and I've only heard good things about this show.

One Poem - Nikki Dudley

Hi all!

As if you taught me how to hop again in the middle


of hurricanes and punch tuition, I lost the


stop.


That cancer beating your chest like a second


heart like nothing ever lived when people lined


upwards to see/speak/scratch and no one



                                                                                            heard in the dark the soul in tune
                                                    the light of death.

Across London , scanning words to find the tears in the day
for love, you emailed me between the madness and monotony and mould >      

right soon,

we’ll write this soon but weight in your cheeks
much rosier now

I can’t turn you white again, with the powder of pounds ground
our hearts, hold on, put them in a pile and we’ll start

a gain feels like something and nothing

when I think about white spaces, white spaces and                                right foolishness
I never seen you

---

Bio:Nikki lives and works in london. She did her BA and MA at Roehampton. Nikki has been published in several poetry magazines and online. Her novel, Ellipsis, is being published by Sparkling Books April 26th 2010.

Four Poems - Andy Spragg

A Whole Chorus-Line of
Relaxing Guts

Old fat epistle tongue
had foresight enough
to bring his own old
fat photographer

one who could catch
an aging process by
dusting the faces
of those gathered
there that day
with fine silver
powder
their fat
folds giving gravity
the best kind of meal

a luxurious dollop suspended
waiting
the whole world is in
an anticipatory mood
sphincters tightening at
the pleasure of seeing
old fat faces turning
to liquid on their
own old fat bones


For S

I like falling asleep in cars or coaches
in transit – I wonder if it’s
similar to taking psychedelics –
oh and by the way,
you are the most amazing
company to take around
Tescos – even when my
tummy is distraught from
a solemn fullness and you
are looking at the most illustrious
of cream cakes – hey look! The
coach just passed a car in traffic
and I saw an old lady in the
passenger seat playing pat-a-cake
with herself
and secretly I thought of my mum
and sort of wish you’d meet her.
She is tolerant and kind
and she too takes me to
see the cream buns.


Advice to the Writer.

Entitle a first collection “A mother’s
broad ruin, limey tap water.”
Make explicit your intention –
you are a relaxing gut – in fact
all first published poets are
a relaxing gut, perhaps
despotic.

Quit it, and take
up quilting instead.

Go to Wanstead
you once had a dream
about going to ‘The George’
there. In fact you’ve never
been there – except by now
it’s likely you’ve been there.
There’s no way to be sure.


Attempted note to a stranger on the coach

A belly-full of flirting –
and looking back
posts are knocked into the
ground at equal
distances
and look at me leaning back
against one of them –
smiling and referring back
to your athletic legs with the autumn
hue – hey today I’m going to go
plant my flag in Chelsea
and be a stand-up gent –
the sort of authority they
respect, not your ghastly draconian
sort – the frank sort – I
don’t give a damn – let’s
marry and make a dynasty.
--

Bio: Andy Spragg is a poet. He has a blog at http://www.brokenloop.blogspot.com/ He is a regular contributor to Maddog Magazine, as well as founding member of the Norwich Poetry Choir. In recent months he has completed the script for SHOEBOX, a performance piece being staged by The Effort in 2010. He is current editor for http://www.placetononplace.tumblr.com/