Another week with no medical disaster, trauma or mishap so I think I am out of the woods. Before my operation, I would work until at least midnight, writing or catching up with admin. Since the hospital though, I’ve been going to bed at the latest by 10pm and getting up at about 8am. I’m used to functioning on 6-7 hours sleep a night, so it feels very strange to be needing 10 hours sleep, just to get by on the minimal activities I’m doing at the minute. I’m trying to accept it as part of the healing process. I keep telling myself my body is still getting back to normal, readjusting after the shock of being cut open, poked,prodded and stitched back together again, and the rational part of my mind knows and understands this. But the non-rational part of my mind is having a panic attack about all of the stuff that I’m not getting done on time. People have been very understanding so far though, so I know I need to chill out a little bit.
Next Thursday 15th December I’m giving a lecture at the final Kava Poetry series. I read for Kava earlier on this year with a terrible cold – in fact I didn’t read very much because I started coughing terribly, and in the end my friend Keith had to do the reading for me. Kava is unique because as well as having a poet who reads their own work, there is also another invited poet who is asked to give a lecture on a topic of their choosing. The series is run by Anthony Costello, and next week is the final one, which is sad, but I’m also looking forward to being there at the final Kava and seeing Anthony get some appreciation and recognition from the regular audience members.
This was one of my deadlines that went whizzing past – Anthony prints the guest poet’s lecture in a small pamphlet, and understandably asked for the lecture to be sent to him by the week before. I was a day late – eventually sending it on Friday afternoon. Anthony was very understanding but I did feel bad, as it can’t be easy organising an event, and printing a booklet out each time as well!
As most of you will know, the only thing I’ve had in my head for the past three months is my PhD, and feminism and poetry, so I decided to write my lecture around this. I actually really enjoyed writing it and I’m looking forward to Thursday – not feeling too nervous at the minute.
This week I’ve also had a committee meeting for A Poem and a Pint and I have a list of poets to invite to Cumbria in 2017. This is one of my outstanding jobs that I didn’t manage to get on with this week. I also managed to make it to Manchester on Tuesday to meet two fellow PhD students, both at differing stages of the PhD. It was both reassuring and inspiring to hear their thoughts and advice. Rachel Davies writes a blog about her experience of the PhD – in fact, reading her blog was one of the main reasons why I decided to apply – it helped me to realise that doing a PhD could be for ‘people like me’ as well. If you are thinking of doing a PhD, I would recommend reading Rachel’s blog – it’s really fascinating. Rachel Mann, the other student that I met, is coming towards the end of her PhD. Rachel is pretty amazing at being able to pull academic theories out of the air to illustrate a point – my ambition is to be able to talk like that about my PhD in three years time!
Seeing other people do things first is very important for me. When I look back at all the big decisions I’ve made, they’ve always been foreshadowed by someone close to me making the leap first. David Tait winning the 2011 Poetry Business Pamphlet Competition made me determined to have a go the next year. My friend J left her job with the music service to take up a new position elsewhere, and my sister left her job with the music service to go and be the manager at Animal Concern in Egremont. Seeing them both go and do something they believed in gave me the confidence to go part time as a teacher the year after. Rachel Davies doing a PhD – I read her blog for a year and finally worked up the courage to have a go. I’m not sure if this is creepy, or just well thought out! Maybe my next ambition should be to do something without anyone doing it first – to inspire myself to make a leap into new territory. Or maybe this is the way that everybody moves on, and if I asked all of those people, a chain of other people that they have learnt from and been inspired by would unfold, further and further back into time.
This week I’ve also managed to get along to two poetry groups – Barrow Writers and Brewery Poets, and I even had two different poems to take along to be critiqued. I’m supposed to be concentrating on the RD1 and not worrying too much about writing poetry this term, but I can’t seem to stop. It’s because I’m reading a lot – even reading academic books seems to make me write. I’m not complaining though!
Last Wednesday I ran what is probably going to be a bi-monthly event at Natterjacks, a late night cafe in Ulverston. It was a wonderful event – I think we had 19 on the open mic, but everybody was well behaved and didn’t read for too long, so we managed to finish at a reasonable hour. In the second half, it’s time for ‘Hunger Games Open Mic’ which if you haven’t experienced it before, it is my invention to get over the natural humbleness and deference of some poets. Basically, who ever gets up and gets to the front first reads a poem and then sits down and somebody else charges up. It’s great fun – and we have even evolved a system of ‘runners’ for those who don’t feel able to leap up and fight their way through to the front.
My other meeting this week was with Pauline Yarwood to hash out the finer details about Kendal Poetry Festival. I’m getting so excited about the festival already – last year I think I just felt stressed about the amount of work – this year, I know what the reward will be for the stress, which more than makes up for the hours spent applying for funding and carrying out admin. We’re meeting next week to start our Arts Council bid so wish us luck!
Today’s Sunday Poem is by John Mills, who I met at Swindon Poetry Festival a few months ago. John came to one of my workshops, then read a poem on the Open Mic that made me cry. I’ve just finished reading his pamphlet Scarred which I’ve really enjoyed. He writes about a wide range of subjects – running, depression, illness, war, family and the poems cycle through a range of emotions. Some of them made me smile or laugh out loud, and some were very poignant.
John was born in Stoke in 1952 and spent his working life teaching English and playing sport and music. He is very modest, and didn’t say much more than that about himself, but he has some lovely quotes on the back of his pamphlet – Helen Mort says his poetry is ‘Compassionate, bold and generous’ and Roger Elkin says that his poetry is ‘what all good poetry should aspire to!’ So there you go!
I’ve chosen ‘Anno Domini’ to feature from John’s pamphlet. This is the last poem in the pamphlet. I had to google Anno Domini of course, having no Latin at all. Google tells me it means ‘advancing age’. This poem is clearly written by someone who loves language and playing around with words. I really like the ‘shilly shallying’ on the second line! I think it’s the first time I’ve read a poem with those words in. I like that this poem seems to be about finding out what you really want to do – instead of what you think you ought to, or what is easiest – a subject close to my own heart!
The poem has a lovely, passing reference to the poem ‘Warning‘ by Jenny Joseph, with it’s famous first line ‘When I am old I shall wear purple’, in the second stanza with its ‘Let’s see./I have worn a purple shirt’ lines. Although this poem isn’t about quite the same thing – the speaker in ‘Warning’ wants to do what she wants, to be outrageous, to not care what people think. The speaker of this poem is tired of the middle road, of neither ‘being one thing or the other.’
The character of the speaker is wonderfully captured in these lines – I love how his thinking gradually unfolds. It was this stanza which made me laugh out loud – it was the line ‘having been a boy’ that did it. There is also something poignant and uncomfortable though about having to wait for advancing age until you can do what you want – although the poem is funny, there is an undercurrent of uneasiness for me when I read it. It forces the reader to take a look at their own life, and their own desires, but it does this without preaching or hectoring – it has a very light touch.
I also really love the punchline at the end – the spending of the ‘inheritance’, which with one deft touch brings in the extra characters of the children, and again made me laugh with the surprise of it.
If you would like to order John’s pamphlet, you can find him on Facebook – send him a message, and he will post a signed copy out for the princely copy of £4 which is a bargain – the pamphlet really is a good read.
Thanks to John for letting me use his poem this week!
Anno Domini – John Mills
I am through with this
ambivalent shilly shallying,
this messy abrogation of responsibility
and settlement, for what I neither like
nor hate.
No more of this
piggy in the middle,
jolly sailing through life without
being one thing or the other.It is time to step out!
To be my own man!
Let’s see.
I have worn a purple shirt
and having been a boy,
I am a very competent spitter.
So far so good.I can do better than this.
I shall refuse to be the milch cow.
I’ll move away and see
the views I want to see.
Shatter the shackles of responsibility,
shun the pills given to combat
the bones and marrows of outrageous mis-fortune
and ease the cork out of a potion of my own
as I work my way through their inheritance.
Reblogged this on Writing and running, the food of life and commented:
And this weeks blog by the very talented Kim Moore
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.
Hi Kim, found your post via Reuben Woolley’s blog. So glad to hear you’re recovering OK. Our bodies can survive no end of surgical insults, but it often takes a lot longer to feel better even though the stitches have been removed and the bruises faded. I feel that we retain a subliminal memory of those insults too, and can remain emotionally fragile even though we might feel physically more robust. I’ve found that writing helps the recovery process at both physical and emotional levels. One day at a time. You’ll get there. You won’t miss your deadlines. Good luck with your Doctorate. Brian xx
Hi – thank you for the comment. Yes I completely agree with all your comments here r.e recovery and subliminal memory. And emotional fragility is a very good description as well! Kimx