The Metal Exchange

 

I’m just into David Cooke’s new collection, The Metal Exchange, Littoral Press, easing into that familiar certainty of rhythm, the even measure of his verse.  A forward to Neruda sets the tone.  Then into the metals, Silverado: Minted that ends so well, arm’s length appreciations of Brass and Gold, the rare earths.  At the finish of Lead, pitch perfect, “dependable and grey” I put down the book a minute:

We’ve both turned out this season in Littoral’s blue livery and David’s sent me a copy of his book to mark the occasion.  Thank you!  I would have sent him a copy of Smudge but I know, as editor of HighWindow and a prolific reader the last thing he needs is yet another book in passing. 

A recommendation though, David, just in case you haven’t read it, Primo Levi’s, The Periodic Table, is a superb collection of stories that open up a lovely, lively vein of elements, of base and precious metals. If Pablo hasn’t passed that way, you have, and are free to enjoy what else has been gleaned, reflecting on metals singing underfoot.

Subverse Recital

Zoe Brooks and Clare Pollard in Stroud on Wednesday, between them made an engaging evening’s recital.  Host Adam was right, they complimented each other. 

Two generations of women: Zoe with a conjuring up of the works of hands, and the vivid, alarming mood swings of Punch, Clare with an incisive creativity sharing the love and hardship of a woman’s lot.  Was it her blood in the snow, or Zoe’s? I can’t remember.

Plumped down on the comfy seat before the stage – a step for the performers would have been a kindness – I was well-placed to enjoy the presentation, and well-reminded of the purpose of a poetry recital, it's  sharing of thought and perspective.  

Too much apart, I am looking forward to seeing more poetry in action.  As SubVerse was so refreshing I’d say good poetry in particular - the evening swam by - but any like event is usually time well spent, like an hour in a gallery. But what a good crowd the poets are.

LightBox, Woking 26 May

 A second review for Smudge in Write Out Loud an amiable introduction to the verse, and, as a follow up, invited along by Greg Freeman and WOL company to join their monthly session at the Lightbox, Woking. Thursday 26 May. Gargling and voice exercises resume.

I watched the Ian McKellen one man show on the box last night, on the downside, that daft old NT inflexion crept in to the Shakespeare, here and there - perhaps a memory key, the show was long - but much of the McKellen sheer quality, and most enjoyable his recital of Hopkins' Leaden Echo and Golden Echo. Good grief, to think how i whine and stumble over my few lines of verse. Speak Oot Man, speak oot!

Try imagining a place

 In an upcoming review of SMUDGE it’s put, Louis MacNeice’s poet had better deal with the incorrigible plurality of life, but James won’t have anything to do with it.  Maybe not.  I find the duality in all things, comparison in opposites, but my aim, should I focus on such a thing, perhaps is more the unity of the moment. “…James is the poet of the moment.”   

We must interpret meanings in their own light.  Blake’s The Sick Rose, has strong religious or psychological overtones. Dylan might be singing of Christian promise in Shelter from the storm, Or is it simply a love song?  Is it in the heart, or mind? In the distance between those poles: room to manoeuvre. 

If the opposite of time is eternity, there’s unity, even purpose in a world we are part of and cannot long ignore.

O Rose thou art sick. 
The invisible worm, 
That flies in the night 
In the howling storm: 

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

SMUDGE

A second collection, published by Littoral Press, out now.

Opinions will vary.  To say the least: the included poems have appeared all over and I am glad to bring them together here. There's a process going on and I judge this is a full step forward from Pilgrim Station.

Chris’s coincidental creation and unveiling of A Darker Quay, the cover painting, which arrived by email on the MS's week of send and acceptance is apt and it is Dark, yes, but the augurs are good!

Distribution falls to me and copies are available.  Do get in touch:
£10 inc pp, by paypal: djamesdom7@gmail.com 

Meanwhile, a first review at The London Grip, 19 Feb.  

Where be your silver branches now, your jibes, your gambols, flashes of merriment 

A Darker Quay

Proofs approved for a new collection, SMUDGE, coming out next week, i expect.  It has been five years since Pilgrim Station, and the work’s moved on.  A very good reception from Littoral Press, and a stunning blurb from David Cooke of The High Window – I was stunned – among other high points, celebrating my sense of sound and rhythm; that great bugbear, calmed. 

The MS was read and approved In the first week of the year, and by chance I was sent this entirely appropriate picture in the same week:  instant, classic poetry cover. It’s a good month for the poet!  More to follow, you bet there is.  Dom.  

A Darker Quay - C.A. Hutchens

Poet and Place

With videos of David Cooke and Adam Horovitz joining Katie Lloyd-Nunn (on the brink of 1,000 hits), another of my own slips through as i prowl the internet for more candidates.  This film touches on a walk in the Welsh Hills, with a picnic in a hayfield, a paddle in the river Lugg, the core of it being my old buddy David's guitar.

My youtube channel: 

If you are in reach of Gloucestershire and interested in making a poetry video, I still have time and resources available, get in touch