hosted by the WestEustonPurplePoets
'Making Workshops Work'

National Poetry Day Panel Discussion:
The London Time Bank
Poetry Project 2003-onwards

Making Workshops Work
chair: Karen Lyon

confirmed panellists:
Wendy French
David Neita
Kim Morrissey

Karen Lyon

Chair of the Panel: Karen was the new economics foundation project manager for the London Time Banks Poetry Project. She edited London Time: Poetry from London Time Banks (London: new economics foundation, 2004) and organized the 2005 National Poetry Day Reading for London Time Banks at the Poetry Café, with guest poet Andrew Motion.

Wendy French


Wendy French photograh credit: William Marshall

Wendy French is a London poet. She was the poetry tutor for My Time, Our Time Time Bank (Hexagon) (2003-2005). She is former head of the Bethlem and Maudsley Hospital School where she led an arts based curriculum as she believes in the healing power of the arts. She left this post in order to develop poetry and writing in healthcare settings.

Wendy is the author of two pamphlets: Sky Over Bedlam and We Have A Little Sister And She Hath No Breasts (from tall-lighthouse). She has also edited two Rockingham anthologies of hospital children's poems -- Dog Bark (for the Bethlem and Maudsley Hospital School) and What's Your Problem? (for the Guys Hospital Evelina School). Her first full collection, Splintering the Dark was published by Rockingham Press in 2005.

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ERRANDS
by Wendy French

and on the ground the purple flower
(Sappho Fragment 105A)


At Goudhurst I stop and buy Green Tea
before entering the churchyard.
Here graves are not guarded by statues.
I leave no money to ward off evil spirits.
I unpick stitches of your last morning;
you leave the boat for that errand, tea half-drunk.
As I walk to your plot an old school-bus stops
at the end of the lane, collects children
for home. Symbols on Taipei's dilapidated buses
had been impossible to decipher
and we ran, laughed, not knowing
how to recognise signs that we needed.

I could walk to your grave blindfolded.
The ground needs to settle in a way you never did.
You found our bus by holding up the paper
to an elderly man who led us forward.
The driver took his fare out of our purse
and we were on our way to buy bean curd.
We rode through shadowed landscapes -
hills rising out of earthquaked lands.
The tofu in the market made our stomachs heave.
Here, stillness, head stones.
Steps on concrete the only winter sound
and I walk alone, carry one small tree.




© Wendy French
from her first published book
Splintering the Dark
Rockingham Press, 2005


WEBSITES FEATURING WENDY FRENCH'S WORK:
Poetry P F:
http://www.poetrypf.co.uk/wendyfrenchpage.html

the tall-lighthouse
www.tall-lighthouse.co.uk/

Rockingham Press
www.rockingham-press.co.uk/



Kim Morrissey
Kim Morrissey image: photo by Kathleen Morrissey

Kim Morrissey turned down the chance to read with the Poet Laureate, Andrew Motion, on National Poetry Day 2005 to do a three week reading tour in Saskatchewan, to celebrate the province's centennial. While all the other time bank poets were reading at the Poetry Café, Kim was (reading with  wonderful Saskatchewan writers Robert Currie and Sharon Butala) somewhere south of Moose Jaw.  These sorts of decisions have made her the household name that she is today.

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Lives of the Poets: Writers-in-Residence
by Kim Morrissey

The problem with artists as house-guests
Is they don't go away.
You can't fold them up in a suitcase
And take them down to the station.
They arrive with one bag or two
And leave with three more of yours
And take you with them
To carry their luggage
And broken trolleys

All artists have bad backs.
So do I.

The problem with artists as house-guests
Is they expect you to listen to their rants
Over breakfast, through your favourite play,
At three in the morning when they
Come into your room with tequila and salt
And bounce on your bed.

The only time they are silent
They are tongue-kissing your lover.

The problem with artists as house guests
Is they are all larger than life
And spend most of it trying to end it
I have nothing to live for
Just let me die. Oh please, please

I'd be better off dead
Until you agree

Or they cry because they can't have children
                                                    With you.

The problem with artists as house-guests
Is when they sleep, they burn your carpet
Or their beards or set fire to your bed
Dropping lit cigarettes

Artists as house-guests need feeding
Three times an hour
If you leave them any longer
You find them hungrily
Eyeing the baby.

They all cook either badly or well, but they all
Cook using every pot in the house. They drop
Fag ashes beating eggs for the omelettes
And roll joints for your mother
And after they wash up
All your non-stick pans
Stick.

They spend all your money.

And the damn thing of it is:

The problem with artists as house guests
Is that when, eventually, they go away
You miss them.



© Kim Morrissey
from her manuscript-in-progress
Twentieth Century Vices

David Neita


David Neita has been the poetry tutor for Rushey Green Time Bank since  The London time Bank Poetry Project started in 2003. (Click on link for more details).



This is an educational site.
© resides with the author. All rights reserved.
West Euston Purple Poets
Writer-in-Residence
Kim Morrissey.
For permission to use any of this material
please contact the West Euston Time Bank.

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