David Farrow is looking for Writers, Poets, Illustrators and artists (especially those who work with children but not exclusively) who would like to participate in some voluntary work.  This starts with going along to a brainstorming session to try and come up with a creative, alternative and enagaging theme to help with David's writing project.

The project is being set up based on this:
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In honour of Seamus Heaney, who died recently.

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Gold Mastercard buys timeless words;

Sun sets on gyneocratic fruitlessness.

I listen to the bird to find the sun.

I listen to the sound behind closed doors,

scratching the soles of your shoe.

Let him have it for justice;

I sensed a fox in my hollow lounge.

Nothing so warm on a cold day,

as a smile.

The sun oppresses, like governments;

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In secret arbours poetry unfolds,

rattling, winding snake in the grass

vibrant gold laminated landscapes glow

shifting the smoke to hold my breath

age is a collection of memories,

dust gathered on the mantlepiece

in the space that once held

your photograph

sitting on a slope is making me dizzy

wheelchairs, and relatives keeping photogr...

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True tale of invitation at an early hour,

To rhyme or not to rhyme?!

Are we antique if we park where indicated?

Teddies and teapots, soft sleep suits, downy duvets

This is one passage that I will pass

Antique books; antique folk; antique buildings;

And the greatest antique of all – poetry.

A giant poo stuck in the loo

Place is now and the ...

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The June Meeting has been moved to the 17th, at the usual time and place. This is because the gallery is being used for the college design exhibitions during the preceding week.

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I have made us a Twitter account for the Heatons Arts Trail. You will need to follow (and tag):

heatonstwaiku

@heatonstwaiku

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Here is the latest news on our contribution to the Heatons Arts Trail: -

Since our primary role will be to translate artistic products into words of poetry, I think our general theme should be ‘synaesthesia’ – that is, the translation of one artistic medium into another. This would work in two ways:

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Just in case anybody hasn't heard, the Gallery won’t be available for our Write Our Loud Session on Monday 10th June 2013.

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Some sources on Ghandi's outrageous opinions about black people:

http://www.thoughtleader.co.za/sentletsediakanyo/2008/10/17/on-mahatma-gandhi-his-pathetic-racism-and-advancement-of-segregation-of-black-people/

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/india/8410318/Mahatma-Gandhi-racist-and-bisexual-claims-new-book.html

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2003/oct/17/southaf...

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Dogs or ducks, strong and sensitive,

artists seek a better world.

Time's circles brush mirrored fragments.

Brave tulips.

Dark, midnight, navy sky, free of clouds

as guileless as a child. This life is mine.

Loving object of desire, your love hurts

so much. I put it far away from my heart.

Sharing our reflections

in honesty and und...

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I attended an interesting meeting on Tuesday. There are plans for a Heatons arts trail / festival involving artists, musicians and writers. I put forward the idea of collaborative work involving poetry and art and they all seemed enthusiastic. If the project goes well, it might enable us to acquire a venue for future meetings - the Blue Cat and the Kro Bar might be included on the Trail.

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I have already produced the anthology. It contains our collage poems and our homages to the Art Gallery.

And it is entitled A Marble Ascent

It can be bought here:

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/a-marble-ascent/13717505

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Footsteps took roads

unreproved, if undesired

I need to rewind my life.

Madness comes in all

shapes and forms.

Wish I could stop the tape.

Wish I could go back.

Look at it from its highest and its lowest,

rapturous laughter and multiple voices.

Sad times. Glad lines.

Let's put our life back together.

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Sudden light falls shining

through tentative air;

I've got Plath married to Larkin -

where did that come from?

Let the Queen

take us from reality,

dreaming of coupling

and cosy nests.

Death and the maiden: sure as taxes

and angry mothers-in-law;

secret sadness

masked by convention.

Your heart-beat

beats with mine;

I...

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Recycled memories

Fall like snow

Smothered across

Degrees of memories

Bits of paper flutter

Along the pavement

Get to work, boy!

I would like to wish you all

A really nice, safe new year

Taking stock of empty boxes

Mrs Browne is a mean old witch.

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