Leontia Flynn: The Bloomsbury Hotel, 1939 – 1945

Self cannot believe that the hotel gives away these precious little poetry collections, collections of all the poems written about The Bloomsbury Hotel.

Here’s an excerpt from a Leontia Flynn poem about the hotel during wartime:

Shutter the windows. Tumble down the wall.
Sleep under a curtain in the swimming pool
and shelter in the old gymnasium.
After the talks, the shying and denial,
War has come again. War: the word’s a bomb

on everyone’s lips.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Poetry About the Bloomsbury Hotel, London

They give poetry books to each guest, which is how self happened upon this poem by Jo Shapcott:

New commission

It’s a hot night. We walk our wheelies from the tube.
The brick walls seep warmth. On the way we smell shop-
flowers through the traffic, hear church bells, loiter
in the odd sweet spot until we’re here, looking up
at a paradox of double steps. Still curbside, we sense
that if there’s a muse of stairways, she lives here,
inside these buildings made of red brick and rain.
Through the doors and we’re inhabiting a chandelier
or library or a chapel or a cave, and our minds flash and glow
with noises, words and tastes until our hearts have softened
inside our bodies and when we leave, the street is silk under
the lamps.

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Cups and Saucers

Self originally posted a different photo for Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge, but that was because she hadn’t read the prompt, only looked at the title, boo.

The prompt is supposed to be about finding Photo Ops In Your Own House.

Since self hasn’t been in her own house in years, here are the closest things to it:

  1. Her writing table at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in Annaghmakerrig, with her cup of coffee next to her MacBook Air. She always starts the day with a pot of coffee.
  2. A friend’s house in San Gabriel, CA

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Everlark: It’s Been a While

Her fingers danced across the leather spines like thin spiders . . .

#amwritingfantasy: Humorous Dystopia

Self worked on this story in Paris. It’s about the end of the world, naturalement.

A pink bathosphere named Pinkie Pi (Joke, joke, joke!), navigated by a pair of squabbling men, is the last to leave the surface of the planet (A new city awaits on the Ocean Floor):

We’re going under.

When?

Today.

Just like that.

Oui. N’est-ce pas. What do you think?

You’re talking about under.

That’s what I’m saying, oui.

That down there, on the ocean floor, we can — je ne sais quoi.

Yes.

In the shift and roll of waves . . .

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

“First Causes” Quarterly West, Issue # 89

Read it at Sixth Engine in Washington DC, at a group reading organized by Quarterly West in conjunction with AWP February 2017. The editors took a chance with this one, it’s all fractured syntax and stars a professor named Fire Lizard. Self is writing a sequel right now.

What a blast:

DSCN0857

Quarterly West reading at Sixth Engine, Washington DC, February 2017

Discussion of the First Corollary: What is average is perfect. Thoughts dark as dark. Big arguing with her. But but but. Her winking at me behind his back. Me thinking: sunlight and glass.

More Friends: An Ever-Shifting Panoply

This week’s Daily Post Photo Challenge is FRIENDS.

Which is a very fun theme!

  • Nutschell Ann Windsor, Program Administrator, UCLA Extension Writers Program (She writes, too!)
  • Keith Tuma, Director of Miami University Press, which published self’s Mayor of the Roses, the first in their fiction series
  • Amy Toland at last year’s AWP Book Fair in Los Angeles
  • Irene Lacson, niece and travel buddy

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Poetry Saturday: JOAN McGAVIN’s

Joan’s second poetry collection, Passing Arcadia Close (Oversteps Books) was recently published, and it’s a beauty:

Portrait of the Ferryman (An Excerpt)

A man is dreaming
of the beautiful naked woman
whose face he can’t make out
and of the cottage
they’ll live in where you open
the door and the sound of the sea dances in.

*
A man is praying that
the mad woman he has married
will be cured if they go
to the village
on the bay where the tide whispers
only healing words.

This is Joan, another poet, Jenny Lewis, and Jenny’s granddaughter Abigail at Jenny’s home in Oxford, 2014 or 2015.

DSCN0782

Joan McGavin, Jenny Lewis, and Jenny’s Granddaughter Abigail in Oxford, UK: July 2015

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Sentence of the Day: Léa Outier for AIR FRANCE Magazine

You need to turn off the road taking you to your destination, watching out for elusive signposts while hugging the white beaches, to realize that this Pacific Caledonia shares more than verdant mountains and damp spells with Scotland: a certain predilection for solitude, for creating deserts.

— Léa Outier, “Conversations from the Other Side”

#amreading “Salt” from Joan McGavin’s PASSING ARCADIA CLOSE

Rivers fascinate self.

Here’s a poem about rivers from Joan McGavin’s second collection, Passing Arcadia Close (Oversteps Books 2017).

Self met Joan 2012, in Hawthornden.

SALT

by Joan McGavin

The changing taste of rivers
told me where I was heading.
How could I fail to swim faster?
I’d hugged the coast for hours,
kept the lap of landbound waves
to my right, where the tang of fresh water
mixed in with salt would flood
the roof of my mouth
at each estuary.

At night I dozed in the hammock between waves
or beached and slept away from houses
but within earshot of tides.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

« Older entries

Sauce Box

Never get lost in the Sauce

GK Dutta

Be One... Make One...

Cee's Photography

Learning and teaching the art of composition.

fashionnotfear.wordpress.com/

Fear holds you back, fashion takes you places!

Wanderlust and Wonderment

My writing and photo journey of inspiration and discovery

transcribingmemory

Decades of her words.

John Oliver Mason

Observations about my life and the world around me.

Insanity at its best!

Yousuf Bawany's Blog

litadoolan

Any old world uncovered by new writing

unbolt me

the literary asylum

the contemporary small press

A site for small presses, writers, poets & readers

The 100 Greatest Books Challenge

A journey from one end of the bookshelf to the other

Random Storyteller

"Stories makes us more alive, more human. . . . "---Madeleine L'Engle

Rants Of A Gypsy

Amuse Thyself Reader!

FashionPoetry by Val

Sometimes, I write down my thoughts (and other random stuff) and I share them

Kanlaon

Just another Wordpress.com weblog

Jean Lee's World

Finder of Fantasy & Adventure in Her Own Backyard