This was lovely surprise bookmail from Quercus a few days ago. They are a fabulous publisher who have been very kind to me over the years, so a big thank you to them. Poetry is something I really enjoy and a little book like this to dip in and out of is always welcome. Hey you have a book to review! Whats it called? Poems for a world gone to sh*t Who wrote it? No…
Candlestick Press, who publish gorgeous poetry pamphlets usually containing 10 or 12 poems around a central theme very kindly sent me their latest 3 pamphlets to review. Their pamphlets are designed to be sent as a gift card for all manner of occasions. They come with an envelope, a bookmark and a sticky label to seal the flap with, look! The pamphlets are beautifully designed and printed and make such an original change from a…
Sorry about the title of this post, its a bit punny but what the heck eh? With my newly rediscovered love of poetry i’ve been watching a lot of booktuber videos for good recommendations. One of them who give THE best advice on poetry is of course Jen Campbell @aeroplanegirl on Twitter. I recently saw her talking about a book called Some Planet by John Montara (see pic below) This book sounded so damn amazing…
I saw this on a friends Twitter feed and immediately contacted Candlestick Press to see if they had a spare copy, and they very kindly sent me one. It is a small poetry pamphlet which is designed to be something you could send as a card to someone. It comes with an envelope for posting and a stylish bookmark too. What a lovely and very original idea. The Ten poems have been chosen by Andrew…
35 or more years ago I discovered and fell in love with poetry. I was a young teenager and the television adaptation of Testament of Youth came on the box. I had not heard of the book before but I just fell in love with Vera Brittain’s story and began reading more about World War One and the incredibly moving and haunting poetry it begat. I read Owen, Sassoon and others in a compilation but…
Apples Behold the apples’ rounded worlds:juice-green of July rain,the black polestar of flowers, the rindmapped with its crimson stain. The russet, crab and cottage redburn to the sun’s hot brass,then drop like sweat from every branchand bubble in the grass. They lie as wanton as they fall,and where they fall and break,the stallion clamps his crunching jaws,the starling stabs his beak. In each plump gourd the cidery biteof boys’ teeth tears the skin;the waltzing wasp…