Patrick Widdess

Biography

Patrick Widdess writes short off-beat pieces of poetry and prose which look at the world in unexpected and often humorous ways. His poetry has appeared in various publications including Orbis and the Guardian. He regularly performs in his hometown Cambridge and has also performed in London, New York Vancouver and Tokyo. He is an active supporter of poetry with a show on Cambridge's community radio station Cambridge 105 which can also be heard online at headstand.podomatic.com. He also runs a monthly poetry night which has featured Ross Sutherland, Helen Mort, Andre Mangeot and Hollie Ncnish. Patrick has been a finalist for the last 2 years in the Cambridge heat of the Hammer and Tongue poetry slam.

Samples

String I went around the neighbourhood collecting bits of string. I tied them together until I had a long enough piece then attached a tin can to either end. I gave one to my brother, who was going to India for a year. When he arrived the string just reached, and our voices travelled sharp and clear across the continents. He said he’d forgotten his reading glasses so I hung them on the string, raised my arm and they slid down the line. He sent us packages of incense, sweets and a teapot in the shape of the Taj Mahal. We would sometimes get interference when birds perched on the line or someone walked into it. Once a knot came undone in the middle and I had to walk half way across Europe to fix it. Leaky Spoon I had a leaky spoon. I called the plumber. 'Plumber! Help me! I have a leaky spoon!' He came and drained it with a hose pipe. 'I can't fix it now,' he said, 'I'll have to get some new parts and do it next week.' I looked at the spoon still dripping on the tablecloth. He put a saucer underneath, 'hold it there until the dripping stops' he said. He saw himself out and I waited. Five hours later the dripping stopped and I finished eating my cold turnip soup with a fork. Dawdling When you're ready to go Remain almost where you are and depart Half forgetting if you're going Elsewhere, anywhere, somewhere or nowhere. Hang limp from train handrails, Wait for crowds to disperse, Stand on the same step of the escalator Until the ground slips beneath you like a fish slice. Survey shop windows Stop to blow your nose Read flyers Stroll for departing buses Count pigeons, bollards, people and leaves. Lose count. Compose haiku at traffic lights on empty streets. Watch your watch mark off the minutes Or, better still, Leave it at home. Let each hour linger And don't forget to drag your feet.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.