The Poetry Exchange

Friends - it is our 100th episode!We are so pleased to be here with you, sharing, listening, celebrating.We have a very special conversation to mark the occasion: our very own Michael Shaeffer, host of The Poetry Exchange, talks about the poem that has been a friend to him - 'Having a Coke with You' by Frank O'Hara.10 years...100 episodes...countless more poems, stories, converastions...and now Michael shares his story of connection with O'Hara's gorgeous poem.We're thrilled and immensely grateful to Michael for sitting 'in the other chair' for this one, and sharing the story of his friendship so openly. You'll hear Michael in conversation with Roy McFarlane and Andrea Witzke Slot. Our thanks to the Alfred A. Knopf and the Frank O'Hara estate for allowing us to share the poem with you, and to the South London Gallery for hosting the conversation.Michael talks about his appearance in the re-staging of London Road at the National Theatre, which runs 7th - 21st June. Get your tickets while you can if you're in or around London during this time!As Michael says in this episode, we will be taking a pause from the podcast for a while after this episode, having reached this extraordinary milestone. Michael will also be stepping back from hosting at this point, having co-hosted The Poetry Exchange with Fiona since the very beginning.What an enormous journey it has been for Michael, for us all, and we are so grateful for all your friendship and support along the way.The Poetry Exchange is continuing, and for now we will be focussing on some new collaborations that create live, intimate encounters between people and poems....something that has always been at the heart of The Poetry Exchange.Keep in touch with us to find out more about as these new adventures as they unfold, including ways of being involved. You can sign up to our mailing list at www.thepoetryexchange.co.uk, follow us on Instagram @PoetryExch, or drop us a line any time on hello@thepoetryexchange.co.uk.For now, thank you so much for being with us over the years...for all your love, support and companionship. Here's to living life filled with poems as friends.Thank you for listening,Michael, John and The Poetry Exchange Xx Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode we talk with writer and academic Serena Trowbridge about the poem that's been a friend to her: 'A Shropshire Lad 31: On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble' by A.E. Housman.This conversation was recorded in April 2022 at the Birmingham & Midland Institute. It is very special to listen back to this converation now, particularly to hear Fiona with all her usual passion and insights in conversation with Serena.Dr Serena Trowbridge is a writer and academic specialising in Pre-Raphaelitism in art and literature. She is Reader in Victorian Literature at Birmingham City University.Serena is Vice-President and Chair of the Pre-Raphaelite Society, and Senior Vice-President at the Birmingham & Midland Institute. You can find her thoughts on art and literature on Substack.Huge thanks to Serena for joining us for this conversation and allowing us to share it with you.We are so grateful to you all for listening and for all your continuous support of The Poetry Exchange. This is episode 99 and we are looking forward to sharing our special 100th episode with you soon.With love,Michael, John and The Poetry Exchange Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of The Poetry Exchange, poet Nick Makoha talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'White Egrets (I)' by Derek Walcott.Nick actually joined us back in 2017 at Pushkin House, London, and we are delighted to be sharing this conversation with you now. It is very special to hear Fiona in this conversation, with all her usual warmth and brilliance.Nick Makoha's latest collection 'The New Carthaginians' is published this month from Allen Lane - you can order/buy your copy here.The event for 'On the Brink of Touch' by Fiona Bennett is on 26th February at The Bedford in Balham, London, and live streamed. We'd love for you to join us, and you can book your places here!Dr Nick Makoha is a Ugandan poet. His new collection is The New Carthaginians published by Penguin UK. Winner of the 2021 Ivan Juritz Prize and the Poetry London Prize. In 2017, Nick's debut collection, Kingdom of Gravity, was shortlisted for the Felix Dennis Prize for Best First Collection and was one of the Guardian's best books of the year. He was the ICA 2023 Writer-in-Residence. He was the 2019 Writer-in-Residence for The Wordsworth Trust and Wasafiri. A Cave Canem Graduate Fellow and Complete Works alumnus. He won the 2015 Brunel African Poetry Prize and the 2016 Toi Derricotte & Cornelius Eady Prize for his pamphlet Resurrection Man. His play The Dark—produced by Fuel Theatre and directed by JMK award-winner Roy Alexander—was on a national tour in 2019. It was shortlisted for the 2019 Alfred Fagon Award and won the 2021 Columbia International Play Reading prize. His poems have appeared in the Cambridge Review, the New York Times, Poetry Review, Poetry Wales, Rialto, Poetry London, TriQuarterly Review, 5 Dials, Boston Review, Callaloo Birmingham Lit Journal and Wasafiri.*********White EgretsBy Derek Walcott I The chessmen are as rigid on their chessboard as those life-sized terra-cotta warriors whose vowsto their emperor with bridle, shield and swordwere sworn by a chorus that has lost its voice;no echo in that astonishing excavation.Each soldier gave an oath, each gave his wordto die for his emperor, his clan, his nation,to become a chess soldier, breathlessly erectin shade or crossing sunlight, without hours – from clay to clay and odourlessly strict.If vows were visible they might see oursas changeless chessmen in the changing lighton the lawn outside where bannered breakers tossand palms gust with music that is time's above the chessmen's silence. Motion brings loss.A sable blackbird twitters in the limes. From White Egrets by Derek Walcott, Faber & Faber 2010. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, we are joined by acclaimed poet Tamar Yoseloff, who shares with us the poem that has been a friend to her: 'Morning' by Frank O'Hara.The conversation, like the poem, is full of joy and delight, as well as sadness and loss. Tamar spoke with Michael and Andrea in early May 2024, and the conversation takes on a new light now, as we continue to hold Fiona so closely in our hearts.Tamar Yoseloff has published seven collections, including The Formula for Night: New and Selected Poems (2015) and most recently, Belief Systems, which was a PBS Summer Recommendation in 2024. She's also the author of Formerly, a chapbook incorporating photographs by Vici MacDonald (Hercules Editions, 2012) shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award. She was a lecturer on the Poetry School / Newcastle University MA in Writing Poetry and continues to teach independently. She received a Cholmondeley Award in 2023.Tamar Yoseloff was one of Fiona's outstanding poetry mentors, having taught her on the MA in 2022, along with Glyn Maxwell. It is very fitting that Tammy is our guest this month, as we celebrate the arrival of Fiona's own collection of poetry: 'On the Brink of Touch', now available from Live Canon. Tamar Yoseloff and Glyn Maxwell, along with Helen Eastman of Live Canon, were all instrumental in ensuring Fiona's collection was published - something Fiona knew was going to happen, even if she didn't get to see her book its final form. 'On the Brink of Touch' is a work of great beauty and immense humanity, and it is extraordinary that we are all now able to hold it in our hands.Michael also mentions the memorial we held recently to remember and celebrate Fiona, which you can view anytime here.•••••••••Morningby Frank O'HaraI've got to tell youhow I love you alwaysI think of it on greymornings with deathin my mouth the teais never hot enoughthen and the cigarettedry the maroon robechills me I need youand look out the windowat the noiseless snowAt night on the dockthe buses glow likeclouds and I am lonelythinking of flutesI miss you alwayswhen I go to the beachthe sand is wet withtears that seem minealthough I never weepand hold you in myheart with a very realhumor you'd be proud ofthe parking lot iscrowded and I standrattling my keys the caris empty as a bicyclewhat are you doing nowwhere did you eat yourlunch and were therelots of anchovies itis difficult to thinkof you without me inthe sentence you depressme when you are aloneLast night the starswere numerous and todaysnow is their callingcard I'll not be cordialthere is nothing thatdistracts me music isonly a crossword puzzledo you know how it iswhen you are the onlypassenger if there is aplace further from meI beg you do not goFrom THE COLLECTED POEMS OF FRANK O'HARA © 1971 by Maureen Granville- Smith, renewed 1999 by Maureen O'Hara Granville-Smith and Donald Allen. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Dear friendsWe are mourning and missing our beloved Fiona, whilst also celebrating her extraordinary life and work, and everything she brought to all our lives. We continue to feel her with us in everything we do. This month, we pay tribute to Fiona by re-relasing the conversation in which Fiona visits The Poetry Exchange for herself, talking about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'A Kite for Aibhín' by Seamus Heaney. The conversation was originally recorded in France in 2017, and you can also find it as episode 23 of the podcast. We are incredibly grateful for all the amazing messages of support, gratitude, loss and condolence we have received from so many of you around the world. Your words speak volumes about Fiona and the way she touched and changed your lives, whether you knew her in person or simply through listening to her voice each month. Michael reads a small selection of some of these messages at the beginning of the episode.Please do continue to write to us with thoughts, feelings and memories of Fiona at hello@thepoetryexchange.co.uk.Fiona's own collection of poetry - On the Brink of Touch - will be published later this month by Live Canon, and we will let you know more about that very soon. You will hear Fiona's reading of her poem 'Imprint' at the end of this episode. Thank you so much for all your support, love and friendship,Michael, John and The Poetry Exchange xx*********A Kite for Aibhínby Seamus HeaneyAfter "L'Aquilone" by Giovanni Pascoli (1855-1912)Air from another life and time and place,Pale blue heavenly air is supportingA white wing beating high against the breeze,And yes, it is a kite! As when one afternoonAll of us there trooped outAmong the briar hedges and stripped thorn,I take my stand again, halt oppositeAnahorish Hill to scan the blue,Back in that field to launch our long-tailed comet.And now it hovers, tugs, veers, dives askew,Lifts itself, goes with the wind untilIt rises to loud cheers from us below.Rises, and my hand is like a spindleUnspooling, the kite a thin-stemmed flowerClimbing and carrying, carrying farther, higherThe longing in the breast and planted feetAnd gazing face and heart of the kite flierUntil string breaks and—separate, elate—The kite takes off, itself alone, a windfall.Excerpted from Human Chain by Seamus Heaney. Published in September 2010 by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC. Copyright © 2010 by Seamus Heaney. All rights reserved. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

READ TRANSCRIPT OF EPISODE -Dearest friends,We are so sorry to have to share the hardest news with you - something we could never imagine having to say...Our beautiful friend and the founder, co-host and guiding light of The Poetry Exchange, Fiona Bennett, has died after a short illness.We are so sorry this will come as a huge shock to you all.It is hard to begin to express the enormous sense of loss, grief and endless love we are feeling for our most beloved Fiona. We know so many of you will be feeling this with us. FIona touched so many people's lives in such a profound way....whether through you listening in to her voice every month on the podcast, or through meeting and knowing Fiona in person.As Michael puts it in the introduction to this episode: "Fiona was a real one off. She really was one of the very best."This episode is a converastion Fiona really wanted us to share. It is an exchange with the wondrous David Lewsey about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'The World as Meditation' by Wallace Stevens. We recorded the conversation just a few months ago, and it is wonderful to hear David share all his passion for this poem and for poetry with Fiona and Michael.We would love to hear from you with any messages, feelings and reflections about Fiona, and you can get in touch with us on hello@thepoetryexchange.co.uk. We are going to be taking some time to process and face the loss of our beautiful friend, and to think about ways of lifting up and honouring her extraordinary life and legacy.For now, we are incredibly grateful for all your friendship, and we are sending so much love to you all.Michael, John and The Poetry Exchange xx Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this special episode, we share a recording of our live event at Norfolk and Norwich Festival in June 2024, celebrating our new anthology: Poems as Friends.Michael Shaeffer is joined by contributors to the anthology Roy McFarlane and Hannah Jane Walker, to read a selection of the poems found within its pages, alongside the stories of the readers who have known them as friends.We are incredibly grateful to the Norfolk & Norwich Festival and the National Centre for Writing for hosting us for this very special event, and for all their passion and support for our work with poems as friends.We hope you enjoy listening in!Poems as Friends: The Poetry Exchange 10th Anniversary Anthology is available now from all good bookshops in the UK and online. It is co-authored by Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer and published by Quercus Editions. Hannah Jane Walker is An award winning writer, performer and poet with a socially engaged practice, often collaborating with visual arts organisations and artists. Have made work in the following formats: theatre, poetry, non-fiction, radio, public and visual art. Her work deals with emotion, vulnerability and the human experience. It has been praised for its: humour, sincerity, engagement and poetic ambition.Roy McFarlane was born in Birmingham of Jamaican parentage and has spent most of his years living in Wolverhampton - and more recently in Brighton. He has held the role of Birmingham's Poet Laureate, Birmingham & Midland Institute's Poet in Residence, and is currently the UK Canal Poet Laureate. He has three collections published by Nine Arches Press: Beginning With Your Last Breath (2016); The Healing Next Time (2018), which was shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award, and Living By Troubled Waters (2022). In 2023, Roy McFarlane was appointed a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of our podcast, acclaimed writer Nick Laird talks about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'The Envoy of Mr. Cogito' by Zbigniew Herbert, translated by Bogdana Carpenter.Nick Laird was born in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. He writes poetry, fiction, screenplays, and criticism, and lives in London and New York. His poetry collections (from Faber and Faber) are: To a Fault (2005); On Purpose (2007); Go Giants (2015); Feel Free (2018).We are so grateful to Nick for joining us for this utterly extrarordinary converastion, and to Oxford University Press Ltd for their permission to share Zbigniew Herbert's poem with you in this way.You can find out more about our upcoming events with our anthology, Poems as Friends, on our website.'The Envoy of Mr. Cogito' by Zbigniew Herbert, translated by Bogdana Carpenter, is read by Fiona Bennett.*********The Envoy of Mr. Cogitoby Zbigniew Herbert, translated by Bogdana CarpenterGo where those others went to the dark boundaryfor the golden fleece of nothingness your last prizego upright among those who are on their kneesamong those with their backs turned and those toppled in the dustyou were saved not in order to liveyou have little time you must give testimonybe courageous when the mind deceives you be courageousin the final account only this is importantand let your helpless Anger be like the seawhenever you hear the voice of the insulted and beatenlet your sister Scorn not leave youfor the informers executioners cowards—they will winthey will go to your funeral and with relief will throw a lump of earththe woodborer will write your smoothed-over biographyand do not forgive truly it is not in your powerto forgive in the name of those betrayed at dawnbeware however of unnecessary pridekeep looking at your clown's face in the mirrorrepeat: I was called—weren't there better ones than Ibeware of dryness of heart love the morning springthe bird with an unknown name the winter oaklight on a wall the splendour of the skythey don't need your warm breaththey are there to say: no one will console yoube vigilant—when the light on the mountains gives the sign—arise and goas long as blood turns in the breast your dark starrepeat old incantations of humanity fables and legendsbecause this is how you will attain the good you will not attainrepeat great words repeat them stubbornlylike those crossing the desert who perished in the sandand they will reward you with what they have at handwith the whip of laughter with murder on a garbage heapgo because only in this way will you be admitted to the company of cold skullsto the company of your ancestors: Gilgamesh Hector Rolandthe defenders of the kingdom without limit and the city of ashesBe faithful GoZbigniew Herbert, 'The Envoy of Mr. Cogito' translated by Bogdana and John Carpenter, from Selected Poems of Zbigniew Herbert. Used by permission of Oxford University Press, Ltd. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, our hearts are full as we are joined by the glorious poet Imtiaz Dharker, talking about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'Meeting Point' by Louis MacNeice.We are also thrilled to say that this episode will be with you in the month that Poems as Friends - The Poetry Exchange 10th Anniversary Anthology is published - on 9th May 2024. We are hugely grateful to everyone who has contributed poems and stories to its pages, and to all of you for your support and love for The Poetry Exchange over the last 10 years. Imtiaz Dharker is one of the leading and most widely respected poets of our age. "Reading her, one feels that were there to be a World Laureate, Imtiaz Dharker would be the only candidate." - Carol Ann Duffy. Imtiaz Dharker grew up a 'Muslim Calvinist' in a Lahori household in Glasgow, was adopted by India and married into Wales. She was awarded the Queen's Gold Medal for Poetry in 2014. Her main themes are drawn from a life of transitions: childhood, exile, journeying, home, displacement, religious strife and terror, and latterly, grief. On 23rd May 2024, Imtiaz's latest collection Shadow Reader is published by Bloodaxe Books. Shadow Reader is a radiant criss-cross of encounters, messages and Punjabi proverbs, shot through with the dark thread of an unwelcome prophecy. ‘Does the warp look back at the one who is weaving and say, This is not how I remember it…?' We are so delighted to share this conversation with you in the month that Shadow Reader - and our anthology of Poems as Friends - join us in the world. Imtiaz Dharker is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and Roy McFarlane.*********Meeting Point by Louis MacNeiceTime was away and somewhere else,There were two glasses and two chairsAnd two people with the one pulse(Somebody stopped the moving stairs):Time was away and somewhere else.And they were neither up nor down;The stream's music did not stopFlowing through heather, limpid brown,Although they sat in a coffee shopAnd they were neither up nor down.The bell was silent in the airHolding its inverted poise—Between the clang and clang a flower,A brazen calyx of no noise:The bell was silent in the air.The camels crossed the miles of sandThat stretched around the cups and plates;The desert was their own, they plannedTo portion out the stars and dates:The camels crossed the miles of sand.Time was away and somewhere else.The waiter did not come, the clockForgot them and the radio waltzCame out like water from a rock:Time was away and somewhere else.Her fingers flicked away the ashThat bloomed again in tropic trees:Not caring if the markets crashWhen they had forests such as these,Her fingers flicked away the ash.God or whatever means the GoodBe praised that time can stop like this,That what the heart has understoodCan verify in the body's peaceGod or whatever means the Good.Time was away and she was hereAnd life no longer what it was,The bell was silent in the airAnd all the room one glow becauseTime was away and she was here. © 1967 by Louis MacNeice. Reproduced with permission of David Higham Associates, Ltd. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of The Poetry Exchange, we talk with one of poetry's greatest leading lights, Malika Booker, about the poem that has been a friend to her: ‘The Domestic Science of Sunday Dinner' by Lorna Goodison.Malika Booker, currently based in Leeds, is a lecturer at Manchester Metropolitan University, a British poet of Guyanese and Grenadian Parentage, and co-founder of Malika's Poetry Kitchen (A writer's collective). Her pamphlet Breadfruit, (flippedeye, 2007) received a Poetry Society recommendation and her poetry collection Pepper Seed (Peepal Tree Press, 2013) was shortlisted for the OCM Bocas prize and the Seamus Heaney Centre 2014 prize for first full collection. She is published with the Poets Sharon Olds and Warsan Shire in The Penguin Modern Poet Series 3: Your Family: Your Body (2017). A Cave Canem Fellow, and inaugural Poet in Residence at The Royal Shakespeare Company, Malika was awarded the Cholmondeley Award (2019) for outstanding contribution to poetry and elected a Royal Society of Literature Fellow (2022).Malika has won the Forward Prize for Best Single Poem TWICE: in 2020 for 'The Little Miracles' (Magma, 2019), and most recently in 2023 for 'Libation', which you can hear her read in this episode.'Libation' was first published in The Poetry Review (112:4). ‘The Domestic Science of Sunday Dinner' by Lorna Goodison is published in Turn Thanks by Lorna Goodison, University of Illinois Press, 1999.You can read the full text of ‘The Domestic Science of Sunday Dinner' on our website.P.S. don't forget you can pre-order your copy of Poems as Friends – The Poetry Exchange 10th Anniversary Anthology – which is published by Quercus Editions on 9th May 2024. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

READ A TRANSCRIPT OF THIS EPISODE.In this special episode, we honour the poetry legend that is Benjamin Zephaniah by sharing this conversation with poet Roy McFarlane, talking about 'Dis Poetry' and the hugely influential part Benjamin Zephaniah has played in Roy's life.Roy McFarlane is a poet born in Birmingham of Jamaican parentage. He has held the roles of Birmingham's Poet Laureate, Starbucks' Poet in Residence and Birmingham & Midland Institute's Poet in Residence. He has three collections published by Nine Arches Press: Beginning With Your Last Breath (2016); The Healing Next Time (2018), which was shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award, and Living By Troubled Waters (2022). In 2023, Roy McFarlane was appointed a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature.Benjamin Obadiah Iqbal Zephaniah (15 April 1958 – 7 December 2023) was a British writer, dub poet, actor, musician and professor of poetry and creative writing. He was included in The Times' list of Britain's top 50 post-war writers in 2008 and was probably the most televised poet of his generation in the UK. His down-to-earth mission to take poetry wherever he could – and especially to those who would not normally read it – led him to being known to millions as ‘The People's Poet. Zephaniah was revolutionary in bringing his Jamaican voice, speech and heritage into poetry – both on the page and in performance – opening up doors for many poets to come. A lifelong activist, Zephaniah's wrote about his lived experiences of incarceration and racism, and was a radical voice for freedom, equality and humanity around the world. The recording of 'Dis Poetry', performed by Benjamin Zephaniah, is taken from To Do Wid Me - a 2013 film portrait of Benjamin Zephaniah by Pamela Robertson-Pearce drawing on both live performances and informal interviews. The film and accompanying Selected Poems are available from Bloodaxe Books: https://www.bloodaxebooks.com/ecs/product/to-do-wid-me-dvd-book--1038.Roy McFarlane's extraordinary poem 'In the city of a hundred tongues' is taken from his collection The Healing Next Time, published by Nine Arches Press in 2018.Roy McFarlane is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.*********Dis Poetryby Benjamin ZephaniahDis poetry is like a riddim dat dropsDe tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shotsDis poetry is designed fe rantinDance hall style, big mouth chanting,Dis poetry nar put yu to sleepPreaching follow meLike yu is blind sheep,Dis poetry is not Party PoliticalNot designed fe dose who are critical.Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bedIt gets into me dreadlocksIt lingers around me headDis poetry goes wid me as I pedal me bikeI've tried Shakespeare, respect due dereBut did is de stuff I like.Read the full poem on our website. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

READ A TRANSCRIPT OF THIS EPISODE.In this very special episode of The Poetry Exchange podcast, journalist, writer and editor Simon Crompton talks about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'The Thrush' by Edward Thomas.This episode is dedicated to a dear friend of Simon and of The Poetry Exchange - the extraordinary Martin Heaney - who sadly died at the end of 2023. Martin has been a touchstone of The Poetry Exchange from the outset, bringing his deep passion for poetry and his belief in the central importance of friendship to our lives to our work over the years. We are eternally grateful to Martin for being such a beautiful, inspirational and joyful friend.Simon Crompton is a journalist, writer, editor and communications consultant specialising in health and social affairs. He wrote for The Times for over 20 years, also working as the health editor of the newspaper's Body&Soul section. He has edited many publications in the fields of health and social work and contributes regularly to the international Cancer World magazine. Throughout his career he has provided consultancy to a wide range of voluntary and statutory organisations working for patient and public welfare. Having written three non-fiction books, he is now focusing on writing fiction.Martin Heaney's podcast is Chatty Guy Talks Cancer Care and Hope (you can hear Martin in conversation with Simon Crompton on one of the early episodes).You can listen to Martin talk about the poem that's been a friend to him - The Lake Isle of Innisfree by W. B. Yeats - in this episode of The Poetry Exchange.At the end of the episode, we share a recording of Martin reading 'Sometimes all it takes' by Gill McEvoy. We are very grateful to Gill for allowing us to share this beautiful poem. Gill McEvoy's Selected Poems is published by The Hedgehog Poetry Press in February 2024.Thank you to Simon for such a beautiful converastion, to Martin for all the inspiration, and to all of you for listening.*********The Thrushby Edward ThomasWhen Winter's ahead,What can you read in NovemberThat you read in AprilWhen Winter's dead? I hear the thrush, and I seeHim alone at the end of the laneNear the bare poplar's tip,Singing continuously. Is it more that you knowThan that, even as in April,So in November,Winter is gone that must go? Or is all your loreNot to call November November,And April April,And Winter Winter—no more? But I know the months all,And their sweet names, April,May and June and October,As you call and call I must rememberWhat died into AprilAnd consider what will be bornOf a fair November; And April I love for whatIt was born of, and NovemberFor what it will die in,What they are and what they are not, While you love what is kind,What you can sing inAnd love and forget inAll that's ahead and behind. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of The Poetry Exchange, we listen back to one of our previous conversations - with the extraordinary actor Andrew Scott, talking about the poem that's been a friend to him: 'Love (III)' by George Herbert.As 2023 draws to a close, this is the poem and conversation we want to lift up for you all...We are incredibly grateful to Andrew Scott for joining us back in 2018 to talk so openly and eloquently about this poem and the part it has played in his life.Thank you for all your support and for sharing a love of poetry with us during 2023.With love from Fiona, Michael and all of us at The Poetry Exchange*********Love (III)by George HerbertLove bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back,Guilty of dust and sin.But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slackFrom my first entrance in,Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioningIf I lacked anything.‘A guest,' I answered, ‘worthy to be here.'Love said, ‘You shall be he.'‘I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,I cannot look on thee.'Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,‘Who made the eyes but I?'‘Truth Lord; but I have marred them; let my shameGo where it doth deserve.'‘And know you not,' says Love, ‘who bore the blame?'‘My dear, then I will serve.'‘You must sit down,' says Love, ‘and taste my meat:'So I did sit and eat. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, poet, playwright, teacher and activist Jacqueline Saphra talks to us about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'Ceasefire' by Michael Longley.We are so grateful to Jacqueline for joining us at this time, to talk about this beautiful poem and the part it has played in her life.Jacqueline Saphra is a poet, playwright, teacher and activist. She is the author of nine plays, five chapbooks and five poetry collections. The Kitchen of Lovely Contraptions (flipped eye) was shortlisted for the Aldeburgh First Collection Prize and If I Lay on my Back I Saw Nothing But Naked Women (The Emma Press) won Best Collaborative Work at The Sabotage Awards. Recent collections from Nine Arches Press are All My Mad Mothers (shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot Prize), Dad, Remember You are Dead and One Hundred Lockdown Sonnets. Jacqueline is a founder member of Poets for the Planet and teaches at The Poetry School. Her latest collection, Velvel's Violin (Nine Arches Press, 2023) is a Poetry Book Society Recommendation.Jacqueline is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.*********Ceasefireby Michael LongleyIPut in mind of his own father and moved to tearsAchilles took him by the hand and pushed the old kingGently away, but Priam curled up at his feet andWept with him until their sadness filled the building.IITaking Hector's corpse into his own hands AchillesMade sure it was washed and, for the old king's sake,Laid out in uniform, ready for Priam to carryWrapped like a present home to Troy at daybreak.IIIWhen they had eaten together, it pleased them bothTo stare at each other's beauty as lovers might,Achilles built like a god, Priam good-looking stillAnd full of conversation, who earlier had sighed:IV‘I get down on my knees and do what must be doneAnd kiss Achilles' hand, the killer of my son.'From 'Ghost Orchid' (Jonathan Cape, 1998), copyright © Michael Longley 1998. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

READ TRANSCRIPTIn this episode, poet, writer and doctor Gita Ralleigh talks to us about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'The Daughter' by Carmen Giménez.We're so grateful to Gita for sharing such an intimate, beautiful conversation with us, and to Carmen Giménez and The University of Arizona Press for allowing us to bring the poem to you in this way.Gita Ralleigh is a poet, writer and doctor born to Indian immigrant parents in London. She teaches creative writing to science undergraduates at Imperial College and has an MA in Creative Writing and an MSc in Medical Humanities. Her poetry books are A Terrible Thing (Bad Betty Press, 2020) and Siren (Broken Sleep Books, 2022). Her debut children's novel The Destiny Of Minou Moonshine was published by Zephyr/Head of Zeus in July 2023. You can find her on Twitter as @storyvilled and on Instagram as @gita_ralleigh'The Daughter' can be found in Carmen Giménez' collection Milk and Filth, published by University of Arizona Press, 2013. You can find out more about Carmen Giménez and her work at www.carmengimenez.net.We are thrilled to announce our first anthology will be pubished by Quercus Editions on 9th May 2024! Poems as Friends: The Poetry Exchange 10th Anniversary Anthology will bring together a beautiful selection of poems that readers have shared with us at The Poetry Exchange over the last 10 years. The poems will be presented alongside readers' stories of connection, revealing how the poems have acted as friends to them and have played a part in their lives. You can find out more about our our anthology and pre-order your copy here.We are so grateful to all our listeners, followers and contributors for being part of The Poetry Exchange so far, and for celebrating and sharing poems as friends with us in so many beautiful ways.*********The Daughterby Carmen GiménezWe said she was a negative image of me because of her lightness.She's light and also passage, the glory in my cortex.Daughter, where did you get all that goddess?Her eyes are Neruda's two dark pools at twilight.Sometimes she's a stranger in my home because I hadn't imagined her.Who will her daughter be?She and I are the gradual ebb of my mother's darkness.I unfurl the ribbon of her life, and it's a smooth long hallway, doors flung open.Her surface is a deflection is why.Harm on her, harm on us all.Inside her, my grit and timbre, my reckless.'The Daughter' from Milk & Filth. Copyright © 2013 by Carmen Gimenez Smith. Reprinted by permission of University of Arizona Press. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, poet and criminal barrister Tim Kiely talks about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'Timothy Winters' by Charles Causley.READ A TRANSCRIPT OF THIS EPISODE.We are so grateful to Tim for joining us and sharing his story of connection with Causely's powerful poem.Tim Kiely is a criminal barrister and poet based in London. His work has appeared in 'South Bank Poetry', 'Under the Radar', 'Atrium', 'Ink, Sweat & Tears' and 'Magma'. He is the author of three poetry pamphlets, 'Hymn to the Smoke' (from Indigo Dreams), 'Plaque for the Unknown Socialist' (from Back Room Poetry) and 'No Other Life' (from Vole Books), all of which are available from timkielybooks.bigcartel.com. He can be followed @timkiely1 on Instagram and Twitter.You can find 'Timothy Winters' in Charles Causley's 'Collected Poems' 1951-2000 (Picador, 2000).Fiona and Michael mention this year's Forward Prizes for Poetry - find out more about all the shortlisted poets and the prize ceremony, taking place at Leeds Playhouse on 16th October 2023.Is there a poem that has been a friend to YOU? Tell us about it and read some of the extraordinary nominations of poems as friends we have received so far... www.thepoetryexchange.co.uk/nominate.Tim Kiely is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange team members Al Snell and Andrea Witzke Slot.*********Timothy Wintersby Charles CausleyTimothy Winters comes to schoolWith eyes as wide as a football-pool,Ears like bombs and teeth like splinters:A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.His belly is white, his neck is dark,And his hair is an exclamation-mark.His clothes are enough to scare a crowAnd through his britches the blue winds blow.When teacher talks he won't hear a wordAnd he shoots down dead the arithmetic-bird,He licks the pattern off his plateAnd he's not even heard of the Welfare State.Timothy Winters has bloody feetAnd he lives in a house on Suez Street,He sleeps in a sack on the kitchen floorAnd they say there aren't boys like him anymore.Old Man Winters likes his beerAnd his missus ran off with a bombardier,Grandma sits in the grate with a ginAnd Timothy's dosed with an aspirin.The welfare Worker lies awakeBut the law's as tricky as a ten-foot snake,So Timothy Winters drinks his cupAnd slowly goes on growing up.At Morning Prayers the Master helvesfor children less fortunate than ourselves,And the loudest response in the room is whenTimothy Winters roars "Amen!"So come one angel, come on tenTimothy Winters says "AmenAmen amen amen amen."Timothy Winters, Lord. AmenFrom 'Collected Poems 1951-2000' (Picador, 2000), © Charles Causley 2000, used by permission of the author's Estate. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

FOR TRANSCRIPT CLICK HERE. In this episode, poet Michael Mark joins us to talk about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'Little Champion' by Tony Hoagland.Michael Mark is the author of Visiting Her in Queens is More Enlightening than a Month in a Monastery in Tibet, which won the 2022 Rattle Chapbook prize. His poems have appeared in Best American Poetry, Copper Nickel, The New York Times, Pleiades, Ploughshares, Southern Review, The Sun, 32 Poems, and The Poetry Foundation's American Life in Poetry. His two books of stories are Toba and At the Hands of a Thief (Atheneum). michaeljmark.com We are hugely grateful to Michael for visiting The Poetry Exchange and talking so openly and eloquently about his connection with 'Little Champion.'You can find 'Little Champion' in Tony Hogland's collection 'Application for Release from the Dream', published by Graywolf Press (2015). Many thanks to Grawywolf Press for their support.Michael Mark is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange team members Andrea Witzke Slot and John Prebble.The 'gift' reading of 'Little Champion' is by John Prebble.*********Little Championby Tony HoaglandWhen I get hopeless about human life,which quite frankly is far too difficult for me,I like to remember that in the desert there isa little butterfly that lives by drinking urine. And when I have to take the bus to work on Saturday,or spend an hour opening the mail,deciding what to keep and what to throw away,one piece at a time, I think of the butterfly following its animal aroundthrough the morning and the night,fluttering, weaving sideways throughthe cactus and the rocks. And when I have to meet all Tuesday afternoonwith the committee to discuss new bylaws,or listen to the dinner guest explain his recipe for German beer, or hear the scholar tell, again,about her campaign to destroy, once and for all,the cult of heteronormativity, I think of that tough little championwith orange and black markings on its wings,resting in the shade beneath a ledge of rockwhile its animal sleeps nearby; and I see how the droplets hang and gleam amongthe thorns and drab green leaves of desert plantsand how the butterfly alights and drinks from themdeeply, with a stillness of utter concentration. Published in The Sun Magazine, November 2014 and in the collection, 'Application for Release from the Dream' (Graywolf Press, 2015). Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of The Poetry Exchange, we are thrilled to be joined by the poetry tour-de-force that is Salena Godden, to hear about the poem that has been a friend to her: You Don't Know What Love Is by Kim Addonizio.Salena spoke with Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer about this elusive, gorgeous poem and the part it has played in her life.Salena Godden FRSL is an award-winning author, poet and broadcaster of Jamaican-mixed heritage. Her debut novel Mrs Death Misses Death won the Indie Book Award for Fiction and the People's Book Prize, and was shortlisted for the British Book Awards and the Gordon Burn Prize. Film and TV rights for Mrs Death Misses Death have been optioned by Idris Elba's production company Green Door Pictures.A hardback edition of Pessimism is for Lightweights - 30 Pieces of Courage and Resistance was published by Rough Trade Books in February 2023. She is currently working on a memoir and a poetry collection which are both due for publication in May 2024, plus an eagerly anticipated second novel set in the Mrs Death Misses Death universe due for publication in spring 2025.Salena Godden's work has been widely anthologised and broadcast on BBC radio, TV and film. Her latest credits include her contribution to the BAFTA award-winning Life and Rhymes presented by Benjamin Zephaniah, and co-starring in award-winning indie anti-rom-com movie Brakes. Her essay Shade was published in groundbreaking anthology The Good Immigrant (Unbound 2016). Godden has had several volumes of poetry published including Under The Pier (Nasty Little Press 2011) Fishing in the Aftermath: Poems 1994-2014 (Burning Eye Books 2014), plus also a childhood memoir, Springfield Road (Unbound 2014).After hearing this episode, you will probably want to seek out and read as much as you can of Kim Addonizio's work. Go on an adventure with this bold, bravura poet's work...*********You Don't Know What Love Isby Kim AddonizioYou don't know what love isbut you know how to raise it in melike a dead girl winched up from a river. How towash off the sludge, the stench of our past.How to start clean. This love even sits upand blinks; amazed, she takes a few shaky steps.Any day now she'll try to eat solid food. She'll wantto get into a fast car, one low to the ground, and driveto some cinderblock shithole in the desertwhere she can drink and get sick and thendance in nothing but her underwear. You knowwhere she's headed, you know she'll wake upwith an ache she can't locate and no moneyand a terrible thirst. So to hellwith your warm hands sliding inside my shirtand your tongue down my throatlike an oxygen tube. Cover mein black plastic. Let the mourners through.From 'What Is This Thing Called Love' by Kim Addonizio (2005, W.W. Norton & Co.) Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, poet, radio host and editor Lois P. Jones talks about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'What Survives' by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by A. Poulin Jr.Lois P. Jones is a luminous poet, radio host and editor, living in California. She won the 2023 Alpine Fellowship which this year takes place in Fjällnäs, Sweden. She was a finalist in the annual Mslexia Poetry Competition judged by Helen Mort and will be published in Spring 2023. In 2022 her work was a finalist for both the Best Spiritual Literature Award in Poetry from Orison Books and the Tom Howard/Margaret Reid Poetry Contest. Lois' first collection, 'Night Ladder' was published by Glass Lyre Press in 2017 and was a finalist for the Julie Suk Award and the Lascaux Poetry Prize for a poetry collection. Since 2007, has hosted KPFK's Poets Café, co-produced the Moonday Poetry Series and acted as poetry editor for Pushcart and Utne prize-winning Kyoto Journal.'What Survives' was published in The Complete French Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by A. Poulin, Jr, by Graywolf Press in 2002.Lois P. Jones is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.The 'gift' reading of 'What Survives' is by Fiona and Michael.*********What Survivesby Rainer Maria Rilketranslated by A. Poulin, Jr.Who says that all must vanish?Who knows, perhaps the flightof the bird you wound remains,and perhaps flowers surviveour caresses, in their ground. It isn't the gesture that lasts,but it dresses you again in goldarmor--from breast to knees—and the battle was so puremay an Angel wear it after you.From The Complete French Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by A. Poulin, Jr. (Graywolf Press, 2002). Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this latest episode, writer Rosie Garland talks to us about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'My Dark Horses' by Jodie Hollander.Writer and singer with post-punk band The March Violets, Rosie Garland has a passion for language nurtured by public libraries. Her poetry collection ‘What Girls do the Dark' (Nine Arches Press) was shortlisted for the Polari Prize 2021, & her novel The Night Brother was described by The Times as “a delight...with shades of Angela Carter.” Val McDermid has named her one of the UK's most compelling LGBT writers. http://www.rosiegarland.comJodie Hollander, originally from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, was raised in a family of classical musicians. She studied poetry in England, and her poems have appeared in journals such as The Poetry Review, The Yale Review and The Dark Horse. Her debut full-length collection, My Dark Horses, was published with Liverpool University Press (Pavilion Poetry) in 2017. Her second collection, Nocturne, was published with Liverpool & Oxford University Press in the spring of 2023. https://www.jodiehollander.comRosie Garland is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange team members Sally Anglesea and John Prebble.In the introduction, Fiona also mentions Glyn Maxwell's extraordinary new collection, 'The Big Calls', which was published by Live Canon in March 2023.We hope you enjoy being with all the poems featured in this episode!*********My Dark Horsesby Jodie HollanderIf only I were more like my dark horses, I wouldn't have to worry all the time that I was running too little and resting too much. I'd spend my hours grazing in the sunlight, taking long naps in the vast pastures. And when it was time to move along I'd know; I'd spend some time with all those that I'd loved, then disappear into a gathering of trees.If only I were more like my dark horses, I wouldn't be so frightened of the storms; instead, when the clouds began to gather and fill I'd make my way calmly to the shed, and stand close to all the other horses. Together, we'd let the rain fall round us, knowing as darkness passes overhead that above all, this is the time to be still.From 'My Dark Horses' by Jodie Hollander, Liverpool University Press, 2017. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this latest episode of The Poetry Exchange, we revisit our conversation with the extraordinary poet & artist Rachel Eliza Griffiths about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'Remember' by Joy Harjo.This beautiful and transformative conversation was originally released in 2020 and has been a friend to many of our listeners so far. We felt it was one to bring into the light all over again!We are hugely grateful to Rachel Eliza Griffiths for sharing her profound story of connection with Joy Harjo's life-filled poem, and to Joy Harjo and her publisher W.W. Norton & Co. for giving us their blessing to share it with you in this way.Rachel Eliza Griffiths is an American poet, novelist, photographer and visual artist, who is the author of five published collections of poems. In her most recent book, Seeing the Body (2020), she "pairs poetry with photography, exploring memory, Black womanhood, the American landscape, and rebirth." (Sarah Herrington, Los Angeles Review of Books). Seeing the Body was the winner of the 2021 Hurston/Wright Foundation Legacy Award in Poetry, the winner of the 2021 Paterson Poetry Prize, and nominated for a 2020 NAACP Image award. Rachel Eliza's debut novel, Promise, will be published by Random House on 11th July 2023, and is available to pre-order now. You can find out more about Rachel Eliza Griffiths' work at: www.rachelelizagriffiths.com.Joy Harjo is an internationally renowned performer and writer of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation. She served three terms as the 23rd Poet Laureate of the United States from 2019-2022 and is the author of ten books of poetry, including the highly acclaimed, Weaving Sundown in a Scarlet Light: Fifty Poems for Fifty Years. Her many honors include the National Book Critics Circle Ivan Sandrof Lifetime Achievement Award, the Academy of American Poets Wallace Stevens Award, and a Guggenheim Fellowship. You can find out more about Joy Harjo's work at: www.joyharjo.com.Two poems by John Clare also feature in this episode: 'All Nature has a Feeling' and 'A Spring Morning'.*********Rememberby Joy HarjoRemember the sky that you were born under,know each of the star's stories.Remember the moon, know who she is.Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is thestrongest point of time. Remember sundownand the giving away to night.Remember your birth, how your mother struggledto give you form and breath. You are evidence ofher life, and her mother's, and hers.Remember your father. He is your life, also.Remember the earth whose skin you are:red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earthbrown earth, we are earth.Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have theirtribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,listen to them. They are alive poems.Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows theorigin of this universe.Remember you are all people and all peopleare you.Remember you are this universe and thisuniverse is you.Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.Remember language comes from this.Remember the dance language is, that life is.Remember.'Remember' reproduced from She Had Some Horses: Poems by Joy Harjo (c) 2008 by Joy Harjo. Used with permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. All rights reserved. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this latest episode of The Poetry Exchange, we revisit our conversation about 'Poem (Lana Turner Has Collapsed)' by Frank O'Hara - A Friend to Harry.This gorgeous conversation was originally released in 2016 and has been a friend to many of our listeners so far. We felt it was one to lift up and enjoy all over again!We are hugely grateful to Harry for sharing his story of connection with Frank O'Hara's wonderful poem, and to the John Rylands Library for hosting this conversation back in 2016.This is the second of a trio of episodes revisiting previously released conversations - specially chosen and introduced by Fiona and Michael.*********Poem (Lana Turner Has Collapsed)by Frank O'HaraLana Turner has collapsed! I was trotting along and suddenlyit started raining and snowingand you said it was hailingbut hailing hits you on the headhard so it was really snowing andraining and I was in such a hurryto meet you but the trafficwas acting exactly like the skyand suddenly I see a headline LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!there is no snow in Hollywoodthere is no rain in CaliforniaI have been to lots of partiesand acted perfectly disgracefulbut I never actually collapsedoh Lana Turner we love you get up'Poem (Lana Turner Has Collapsed)' by Frank O'Hara from 'Lunch Poems: Pocket Poets Number 19'. (City Lights Publishers 2014). Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this latest episode of The Poetry Exchange, we revisit our conversation about 'The force that through the green fuse drives the flower' by Dylan Thomas - A Friend to Angela.This extraordinary and beautiful conversation was originally released in 2019 and has been a friend to many of our listeners so far. We felt it was one to lift up and revisit again in this moment. We are hugely grateful to Angela for sharing her story of connection with Dylan Thomas's poem, and to Manchester Central Library for hosting this conversation.This is the first of a trio of episodes revisiting previously released conversations - specially chosen and introduced by Fiona and Michael.You will also hear Fiona and Michael read from and discuss Kae Tempest's soul-reaching and truth-speaking book On Connection, as well as the poem 'Tall Nettles' by Edward Thomas.*********The force that through the green fuse drives the flowerby Dylan ThomasThe force that through the green fuse drives the flowerDrives my green age; that blasts the roots of treesIs my destroyer.And I am dumb to tell the crooked roseMy youth is bent by the same wintry fever.The force that drives the water through the rocksDrives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streamsTurns mine to wax.And I am dumb to mouth unto my veinsHow at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.The hand that whirls the water in the poolStirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing windHauls my shroud sail.And I am dumb to tell the hanging manHow of my clay is made the hangman's lime.The lips of time leech to the fountain head;Love drips and gathers, but the fallen bloodShall calm her sores.And I am dumb to tell a weather's windHow time has ticked a heaven round the stars.And I am dumb to tell the lover's tombHow at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.Poem © Dylan Thomas. Used by permission of David Higham Associates. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of The Poetry Exchange, poet Rowena Knight talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her: 'Grief' by Matthew Dickman. Rowena visited us in Durham and is in conversation with Andrea Witzke Slot and Michael Shaeffer. We are hugely grateful to her for sharing her story of connection with Matthew Dickman's poem.Rowena Knight's poetry is influenced by her identity as a queer feminist and her childhood in New Zealand. Her poems have appeared in various publications, including Butcher's Dog, Magma, The Rialto, and The Emma Press Anthology of Love. She was shortlisted for the 2018 Bridport Prize and commended in the 2019 Winchester Poetry Prize. Her first pamphlet, All the Footprints I Left Were Red, was published with Valley Press in 2016. You can find her on Twitter @purple_feminist and Instagram @purple_feminist_You can discover more of Matthew Dickman's stunning, reverberating poetry at www.matthewdickmanpoetry.com. 'Grief' can be found in the collection 'Mayakovsky's Revolver' from W.W. Norton & Company, 2012.The reading of 'Grief' is by Andrea Witzke Slot.*********Griefby Matthew DickmanWhen grief comes to you as a purple gorillayou must count yourself lucky.You must offer her what's leftof your dinner, the book you were trying to finishyou must put asideand make her a place to sit at the foot of your bed,her eyes moving from the clockto the television and back again.I am not afraid. She has been here beforeand now I can recognize her gaitas she approaches the house.Some nights, when I know she's coming,I unlock the door, lie down on my back,and count her stepsfrom the street to the porch.Tonight she brings a pencil and a ream of paper,tells me to write downeveryone I have ever known,and we separate them between the living and the deadso she can pick each name at random.I play her favorite Willie Nelson albumbecause she misses Texasbut I don't ask why.She hums a little,the way my brother does when he gardens.We sit for an hourwhile she tells me how unreasonable I've been,crying in the check-out line,refusing to eat, refusing to shower,all the smoking and all the drinking.Eventually she puts one of her heavypurple arms around me, leansher head against mine,and all of a sudden things are feeling romantic.So I tell her,things are feeling romantic.She pulls another name, this timefrom the dead,and turns to me in that way that parents doso you feel embarrassed or ashamed of something.Romantic? She says,reading the name out loud, slowlyso I am aware of each syllable, each vowelwrapping around the bones like new muscle,the sound of that person's bodyand how reckless it is,how careless that his name is in one pile and not the other.Copyright: Matthew Dickman. 'Grief' by Matthew Dickman, from 'Mayakovsky's Revolver', W.W. Norton & Company, 2012. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, poet Ella Frears talks about the poem that has been a friend to her: The The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. Ella Frears is a poet and artist based in London. Her debut collection, Shine, Darling, (Offord Road Books, 2020) was a Poetry Book Society Recommendation and was shortlisted for both the Forward Prize for Best First Collection, and the T. S. Eliot Prize for Poetry. Her latest pamphlet I AM THE MOTHER CAT written as part of her residency at John Hansard Gallery is out with Rough Trade Books (2021).  Ella was recently named Poet in Residence for the Dartington Trust's grade II listed Gardens, selected by Alice Oswald. She is a trustee and editor for Magma Poetry and has been Poet in Residence for the National Trust, Tate Britain, The John Hansard Gallery, K6 Gallery, SPUD (the Observatory), conservation organisation Back from the Brink, and was poet in residence at Royal Holloway University physics department, writing about the Cassini Space Mission. https://ellafrears.com Ella is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.

In our latest episode, acclaimed poet, playwright and librettist Glyn Maxwell talks about the poem that has been a friend to him: 'Acquainted with the Night' by Robert Frost. Glyn is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. Glyn Maxwell's volumes of poetry include The Breakage, Hide Now, Pluto, and How The Hell Are You, all of which were shortlisted for either the Forward or T. S. Eliot Prizes, and The Nerve, which won the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. On Poetry, a guidebook for the general reader, was published by Oberon in 2012. The Spectator called it ‘a modern classic' and The Guardian's Adam Newey described it as ‘the best book about poetry I've ever read.' Drinks With Dead Poets, which is both an expansion of On Poetry and a novel in itself, was published by Oberon in September 2016. Many of Maxwell's plays have been staged in London and New York, including Liberty at Shakespeare's Globe, and at the Almeida, Arcola, RADA and Southwark Playhouse. ********* Acquainted with the Night By Robert Frost I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, One luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night. Robert Frost, "Acquainted with the Night" from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright © 1964, 1970 by Leslie Frost Ballantine. Copyright 1936, 1942 © 1956 by Robert Frost. Copyright 1923, 1928, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Co.

A little extra message from Fiona and Michael to remind you about our special, online event this Thursday 3rd November: In The Company Of Poems. Join us to hear some of the world's greatest poems read by some of the finest voices amongst our company of poets and performers, including: Ciarán Hinds, Paterson Joseph, Sasha Dugdale, Hafsah Aneela Bashir, Roxy Dunn and Roy Mcfarlane - together with hosts Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. There will be poems to move you by Dylan Thomas, Joy Harjo, Seamus Heaney, Emily Brontë, Jodie Hollander, Sharon Olds, W.B. Yeats and more! The event will be live-streamed via YouTube, so you can simply put your feet up and enjoy a sensational night of poems and voices. Book your place at inthecompanyofpoems.eventbrite.com. This is a fundraising event for The Poetry Exchange on a pay-what-you-can basis. Thank you, as ever, for listening and for all your wonderful support. Fiona, Michael and The Poetry Exchange team

In this episode of our podcast, Alex Pritchard-Jones talks about the poem that has been a friend to him: Poem in October by Dylan Thomas. Alex spoke with us online during a day of Exchanges at the Birmingham and Midland Institute. He is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and Roy McFarlane. Poem in October is read by Alex Pritchard-Jones and Roy McFarlane. To join us for our live, online event In The Company Of Poems on 3rd November 2022, 7-8pm (GMT), visit https://inthecompanyofpoems.eventbrite.co.uk. Don't miss this night of powerful poems and voices! ********* Poem In October It was my thirtieth year to heaven Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel pooled and the heron Priested shore The morning beckon With water praying and call of seagull and rook And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall Myself to set foot That second In the still sleeping town and set forth. My birthday began with the water- Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name Above the farms and the white horses And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days. High tide and the heron dived when I took the road Over the border And the gates Of the town closed as the town awoke. A springful of larks in a rolling Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling Blackbirds and the sun of October Summery On the hill's shoulder, Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly Come in the morning where I wandered and listened To the rain wringing Wind blow cold In the wood faraway under me. Pale rain over the dwindling harbour And over the sea wet church the size of a snail With its horns through mist and the castle Brown as owls But all the gardens Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud. There could I marvel My birthday Away but the weather turned around. It turned away from the blithe country And down the other air and the blue altered sky Streamed again a wonder of summer With apples Pears and red currants And I saw in the turning so clearly a child's Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother Through the parables Of sun light And the legends of the green chapels And the twice told fields of infancy That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine. These were the woods the river and sea Where a boy In the listening Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide. And the mystery Sang alive Still in the water and singingbirds. And there could I marvel my birthday Away but the weather turned around. And the true Joy of the long dead child sang burning In the sun. It was my thirtieth Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon Though the town below lay leaved with October blood. O may my heart's truth Still be sung On this high hill in a year's turning.

In this special, feature-length episode, we bring you our live event at SkyLines Festival of Poetry & Spoken Word in Coventry, which took place in July 2022. Renowned poets Roz Goddard and Rishi Dastidar are in converation with hosts Michael Shaeffer and Roy McFarlane about the poems that have been friends to them, alongside live readings from The Poetry Exchange archive. Roz talks about 'Pulmonary Tuberculosis' by Katherine Mansfield; Rishi talks about 'Lousy with unfuckedness, I dream' by Amy Key. We are hugely greatful to Roz and Rishi for joining us for this event and for sharing the poems that have been friends to them so openly and beautifully. Our thanks also to the Belgrade Theatre and SkyLines Festival team, especially Jane Commane for inviting us to be part of the programme and Jason Sylvester and Debbie Harlow for their support on the day. Thank you to Amy Key for allowing us to share her brilliant poem - you can find it in Amy's collection 'Isn't Forever' from Bloodaxe Books: www.bloodaxebooks.com/ecs/product/isn-t-forever-1181 Roy also reads 'A Short Story of Falling' by Alice Oswald. Many thanks to Alice Oswald and United Agents for granting us permission to share the poem in this capacity. 'A Short Story of Falling' can be found in the collection 'Falling Awake' (W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2016. ********* Pulmonary Tuberculosis by Katherine Mansfield The man in the room next to mine has the same complaint as I. When I wake in the night I hear him turning. And then he coughs. And I cough. And after a silence I cough. And he coughs again. This goes on for a long time. Until I feel we are like two roosters calling to each other at false dawn. From far-away hidden farms. Lousy with unfuckedness, I dream by Amy Key each night I count ghostlets of how my body was wanted / behind with deadheading / rose hips have come / behind with actions that count only / when the timing is right / I took out a contract / it was imprudent in value / behind with asepsis / hello microbes of my body / we sleep together / hello cats / I make my bed daily / of the three types of hair on the sheets / only one is human / I count the bedrooms / I never had sex in / but there were cars / wild woods / blackfly has got to all the nasturtiums / you cannot dig up a grapevine / and expect shelter to come / I am touched by your letter / writes a friend / you prevaricate desire / says message / all this fucking / with no hands on me Copyright Amy Key. From 'Isn't Forever' by Amy Key (Bloodaxe Books, 2018).

In this episode, poet Sue Brown talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her - 'Truth' by Jean 'Binta' Breeze. ​ Sue joined The Poetry Exchange at the Birmingham & Midland Institute and is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and Roy McFarlane. Sue Brown writes from the heart and the soul. Her words pull from the dialect of her local community, from the long toned melodic speech of preachers and Maya Angelou, from mantras and incantations, from jazz. In her poetry, a lifetime in the making, she is a fighter and a lover, by turns rising up against the oppression that has dominated her peoples' history, and rising skywards on the warm air of her compassion and her capacity for love. These poems move with a beat that speaks to hearts everywhere. They pulse with life, feeling like they could either be spoken or sung. Feel their rhythm. Feel their profound sensibility. And as Roy McFarlane says in his exuberant introduction to this book – ‘Let Rhythm Chant take a hold of you.' 'Truth' is taken from Jean Binta Breeze's 'Third World Girl - Selected Poems', published by Bloodaxe Books: www.bloodaxebooks.com/ecs/product/third-world-girl-1005

In this episode, Maryam talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Love Song for Words' by Nazik Al-Malaika, translated from the Arabic by Rebecca Carol Johnson. Maryam joined The Poetry Exchange online, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. She is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Al Snell and Andrea Witzke-Slot. ********* Love Song for Words Nazik Al-Malaika Why do we fear words when they have been rose-palmed hands, fragrant, passing gently over our cheeks, and glasses of heartening wine sipped, one summer, by thirsty lips? Why do we fear words when among them are words like unseen bells, whose echo announces in our troubled lives the coming of a period of enchanted dawn, drenched in love, and life? So why do we fear words? We took pleasure in silence. We became still, fearing the secret might part our lips. We thought that in words laid an unseen ghoul, crouching, hidden by the letters from the ear of time. We shackled the thirsty letters, we forbade them to spread the night for us as a cushion, dripping with music, dreams, and warm cups. Why do we fear words? Among them are words of smooth sweetness whose letters have drawn the warmth of hope from two lips, and others that, rejoicing in pleasure have waded through momentary joy with two drunk eyes. Words, poetry, tenderly turned to caress our cheeks, sounds that, asleep in their echo, lies a rich color, a rustling, a secret ardor, a hidden longing. Why do we fear words? If their thorns have once wounded us, then they have also wrapped their arms around our necks and shed their sweet scent upon our desires. If their letters have pierced us and their face turned callously from us Then they have also left us with an oud in our hands And tomorrow they will shower us with life. So pour us two full glasses of words! Tomorrow we will build ourselves a dream-nest of words, high, with ivy trailing from its letters. We will nourish its buds with poetry and water its flowers with words. We will build a balcony for the timid rose with pillars made of words, and a cool hall flooded with deep shade, guarded by words. Our life we have dedicated as a prayer To whom will we pray . . . but to words?

In this episode, India & Samira talk with us about the poem that has been a friend to them – 'On Marriage' from 'The Prophet' by Kahlil Gibran. India & Samira joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. They are in conversation with Poetry Exchange hosts, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. ********** On Marriage By Kahlil Gibran Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master? And he answered saying: You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days. Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God. But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

In this episode, Michael Cooke talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Fisherman' by Dennis Scott. ​ Michael joined The Poetry Exchange online for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. We are hugely grateful to Michael for spending this time with us and sharing such a beautiful poem and converastion. Michael Cooke is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and John Prebble. 'Fisherman' is read by Michael Cooke and John Prebble. ***** The scales like metal flint his feet, their empty eyes like me. How gray their colours in the heat! Cool as the oily sea. With gentle hand he slits the heart, and the flesh as white as milk and the ribboned entrails fall apart like the fall of coiling silk. Some day I too shall fish, and find on stranger shores than these the ribs and muscles of my blind self, rainbowed from the seas. From 'Uncle Time' by Dennis Scott, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1973.

In our latest episode, Sue Lawther-Brown talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her: The Lake Isle of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats. We are hugely grateful to Sue for bringing this beautiful poem to us and sharing such a rich and moving conversation. Sue joined us at the National Centre for Writing in Norwich and we are very grateful to the team there for hosting us so warmly. www.nationalcentreforwriting.org.uk You can discover previous conversations about this poem with different guests on episodes 9 and 26 of our podcast. Michael's play is Tom Fool at Orange Tree Theatre, London: www.orangetreetheatre.co.uk/whats-on/tom-fool Paul Henry's forthcoming collection 'As If To Sing' is from Seren Books: www.serenbooks.com/productdisplay/as-if-to-sing The Lake Isle of Innisfree is read by Sue Lawther-Brown and Fiona Bennett. ********* The Lake Isle Of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart's core.

In this episode, poet Casey Bailey talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'The Way Home' by Liz Berry. ​ Casey joined The Poetry Exchange at the Birmingham & Midland Institute and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Roy McFarlane. Casey Bailey is a writer, performer and educator, born and raised in Nechells, Birmingham, UK. Casey is the Birmingham Poet Laureate 2020 - 2022 and the Greater Birmingham Future Face of Arts and Culture 2020. Casey's second full poetry collection Please Do Not Touch was published by Burning Eye in 2021. Casey's debut play ‘GrimeBoy' was commissioned by the Birmingham Rep in 2020. He was commissioned by the BBC to write ‘The Ballad of The Peaky Blinders' in 2019. In 2020 the poem was internationally recognised, winning a Webby Award. Casey has performed his poetry nationally, and internationally. Casey was named as one of ‘Birmingham Live's', Birmingham '30 under 30' of 2018, Casey is a Fellow of the University of Worcester and in 2021 was awarded an honorary doctorate by Newman University. www.caseybailey.co.uk 'The Way Home' is read by Casey Bailey and Roy McFarlane.

In this episode, Gill Gregory talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'On the Departure Platform' by Thomas Hardy. Gill joined The Poetry Exchange at the National Centre for Writing in Norwich. We are hugely grateful to the National Centre for Writing for hosting us so warmly, and to all the readers who visited us there. Andrea is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. 'On the Departure Platform' is read by Gill Gregory and Michael Shaeffer. ********* On the Departure Platform by Thomas Hardy We kissed at the barrier; and passing through She left me, and moment by moment got Smaller and smaller, until to my view She was but a spot; A wee white spot of muslin fluff That down the diminishing platform bore Through hustling crowds of gentle and rough To the carriage door. Under the lamplight's fitful glowers, Behind dark groups from far and near, Whose interests were apart from ours, She would disappear, Then show again, till I ceased to see That flexible form, that nebulous white; And she who was more than my life to me Had vanished quite. We have penned new plans since that fair fond day, And in season she will appear again— Perhaps in the same soft white array— But never as then ! —‘And why, young man, must eternally fly A joy you'll repeat, if you love her well ?' —O friend, nought happens twice thus ; why, I cannot tell!

In this episode, Andrea Holland talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Song of Myself' by Walt Whitman. ​ Andrea joined The Poetry Exchange at the National Centre for Writing in Norwich. We are hugely grateful to the National Centre for Writing for hosting us so warmly, and to all the readers who visited us there. Andrea is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. Andrea Holland is a poet and lecturer in Creative Writing. As winner of the Norfolk Commission for Poetry her collection 'Broadcasting' was published in 2013 (Gatehouse Press). The collection focuses on the forced requisition of several Norfolk villages for D-Day training in 1942, and the subsequent dislocation of villagers and community. Her pamphlet, 'Borrowed' (Smith/Doorstop, 2007) was first-stage winner of the Poetry Business Competition 2006. Her writing has appeared in journals such as Mslexia, The North, Rialto, Smith's Knoll, and in Slanted: 12 Poems for Christmas (IST, 2014). The 'gift' reading of Song of Myself is read by Michael Shaeffer. ********* From 'Song of Myself' Walt Whitman I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other. Loaf with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips, and gently turned over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stripped heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet. Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love, And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, And brown ants in the little wells beneath them, And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heaped stones, elder, mullein and pokeweed.

In this episode, poet Gregory Leadbetter talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Kubla Khan' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. ​ Gregory joined The Poetry Exchange at the Birmingham & Midland Institute - one of our first in-person exchanges since the pandemic. He is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Roy McFarlane. Gregory Leadbetter is a poet and critic. He is the author of two poetry collections, Maskwork (2020) and The Fetch (2016), both with Nine Arches Press, as well as the pamphlet The Body in the Well (HappenStance Press, 2007), and (with photographs by Phil Thomson) Balanuve (Broken Sleep, 2021). His book Coleridge and the Daemonic Imagination (Palgrave Macmillan, 2011) won the University English Book Prize 2012. The 'gift' reading of Kubla Khan is read by Roy McFarlane. ********* Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean; And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

In this episode, Pete Stones talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Old Mary' by Gwendolyn Brooks. ​ Pete joined The Poetry Exchange at the Birmingham & Midland Institute - one of our first in-person exchanges since the pandemic. He is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and John Prebble. 'Old Mary' is read by Pete Stones and Fiona Bennett. ********* Old Mary by Gwendolyn Brooks My last defense Is the present tense. It little hurts me now to know I shall not go Cathedral-hunting in Spain Nor cherrying in Michigan or Maine. Reproduced by consent of Brooks Permissions.

In this episode, Dr Maria Augusta Arruda talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Eve Remembering' by Toni Morrison. ​ Maria joined The Poetry Exchange online for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. She is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. 'Eve Remembering' is read by Maria Augusta Arruda and Fiona Bennett. ***** Eve Remembering by Toni Morrison 1 I tore from a limb fruit that had lost its green. My hands were warmed by the heat of an apple Fire red and humming. I bit sweet power to the core. How can I say what it was like? The taste! The taste undid my eyes And led me far from the gardens planted for a child To wildernesses deeper than any master's call. 2 Now these cool hands guide what they once caressed; Lips forget what they have kissed. My eyes now pool their light Better the summit to see. 3 I would do it all over again: Be the harbor and set the sail, Loose the breeze and harness the gale, Cherish the harvest of what I have been. Better the summit to scale. Better the summit to be. From Five Poems (Rainmaker Editions, 2002) by Toni Morrison with silhouettes by Kara Walker. Used with permission from The Believer Magazine.

In this episode, Ana Sampson talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'The Republic of Motherhood' by Liz Berry. Ana Sampson is a highly accomplished poetry editor. She has edited 8 poetry anthologies including 'Night Feeds and Morning Songs: Honest, fierce and beautiful poems about motherhood', as well as 'She is Fierce' and 'She Will Soar' - two bold and brilliant anthologies of women's verse throughout history. Ana's books have sold over 240,000 copies and she writes and speaks often about books and poetry in the media. She has also spoken about the hidden history of women's writing at bookshops, festivals, libraries, schools and literary events. www.anasampson.co.uk We are hugely grateful to Liz Berry and Chatto & Windus for allowing us to share Liz's extraordinary poem in this way. You can buy Liz's entire pamphlet - The Republic of Motherhood - here: www.poetrybooks.co.uk/products/republic-of-motherhood-liz-berry Ana is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Andrea Witzke Slot and John Prebble. ********* The Republic of Motherhood By Liz Berry I crossed the border into the Republic of Motherhood and found it a queendom, a wild queendom. I handed over my clothes and took its uniform, its dressing gown and undergarments, a cardigan soft as a creature, smelling of birth and milk, and I lay down in Motherhood's bed, the bed I had made but could not sleep in, for I was called at once to work in the factory of Motherhood. The owl shift, the graveyard shift. Feedingcleaninglovingfeeding. I walked home, heartsore, through pale streets, the coins of Motherhood singing in my pockets. Then I soaked my spindled bones in the chill municipal baths of Motherhood, watching strands of my hair float from my fingers. Each day I pushed my pram through freeze and blossom down the wide boulevards of Motherhood where poplars bent their branches to stroke my brow. I stood with my sisters in the queues of Motherhood— the weighing clinic, the supermarket—waiting for Motherhood's bureaucracies to open their doors. As required, I stood beneath the flag of Motherhood and opened my mouth although I did not know the anthem. When darkness fell I pushed my pram home again, and by lamplight wrote urgent letters of complaint to the Department of Motherhood but received no response. I grew sick and was healed in the hospitals of Motherhood with their long-closed isolation wards and narrow beds watched over by a fat moon. The doctors were slender and efficient and when I was well they gave me my pram again so I could stare at the daffodils in the parks of Motherhood while winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows. In snowfall, I haunted Motherhood's cemeteries, the sweet fallen beneath my feet— Our Lady of the Birth Trauma, Our Lady of Psychosis. I wanted to speak to them, tell them I understood, but the words came out scrambled, so I knelt instead and prayed in the chapel of Motherhood, prayed for that whole wild fucking queendom, its sorrow, its unbearable skinless beauty, and all the souls that were in it. I prayed and prayed until my voice was a nightcry and sunlight pixelated my face like a kaleidoscope. © Liz Berry. From 'The Republic of Motherhood' by Liz Berry (Chatto & Windus 2018).

In this episode, Jessica talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'From Blossoms' by Li-Young Lee. ​ Jessica joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. Jessica works as an Audio Producer with Listening Books, an audiobook lending charity for those that find their illness, mental health, physical or learning disability affects their ability to read the printed word or hold a book. You can find out more about this wonderful charity here: www.listening-books.org.uk And tune into their podcast here: bit.ly/3xPZjxH You can also listen to our podcast episode: 'Spring and Fall by Gerard Manley Hopkins - Poem as Friend to Vahni' here: bit.ly/3gLrYOG Jessica is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. Michael reads 'From Blossoms'. ***** From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches we bought from the boy at the bend in the road where we turned toward signs painted Peaches. From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat. O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom. Li-Young Lee, “From Blossoms” from Rose. Copyright © 1986 by Li-Young Lee. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions Ltd., www.boaeditions.org.

In this special, feature-length episode, pioneering broadcaster, writer and host of On Being, Krista Tippett talks about the poem that has been a friend to her: ‘Good Lord The Light' by Christian Wiman. Krista Tippett has created a singular space for reflection and conversation in American and global public life. She founded and leads the On Being Project (www.onbeing.org)— a groundbreaking media and public life initiative pursuing “deep thinking and moral imagination, social courage and joy to renew inner life, outer life, and life together.” As the creator and host of the Peabody Award-winning On Being radio show, heard on over 400 public radio stations across the US, Tippett takes up the great animating questions of human life: What does it mean to be human, how we do want to live, and who will we be to each other? In 2014, President Obama awarded Krista the National Humanities Medal at the White House for “thoughtfully delving into the mysteries of human existence. On the air and in print, Ms. Tippett avoids easy answers, embracing complexity and inviting people of every background to join her conversation about faith, ethics, and moral wisdom.” Krista is also the author of three books at the intersection of spiritual inquiry, social healing, science, and the arts: Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living; Einstein's God: Conversations about Science and the Human Spirit and Speaking of Faith, a memoir of religion in our time. Krista is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. ‘Good Lord The Light' can be found in poet Christian Wiman's latest collection – ‘Survival is a Style', from Farrar, Straus and Geroux: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374272050 You can listen to Krista's extraordinary range of life-expanding conversations through the On Being podcast – which can be found wherever you get your podcasts and at www.onbeing.com. The gift reading of 'Good Lord The Light' is by Michael Shaeffer. ********* GOOD LORD THE LIGHT by Christian Wiman Good morning misery, goodbye belief, good Lord the light cutting across the lake so long gone to ice — There is an under, always, through which things still move, breathe, and have their being, quick coals and crimsons no one need see to see. Good night knowledge, goodbye beyond, good God the winter one must wander one's own soul to be. From 'Survival is a Style' - Farrar, Straus and Giroux (February 2020)

In this episode, Lewi talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'The Horses' by Ted Hughes. ​ Lewi joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. It was in celebration of Manchester Literature Festival, which you can find out more about here: www.manchesterliteraturefestival.co.uk Lewi is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. Fiona reads 'The Horses' ***** The Horses By Ted Hughes I climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark. Evil air, a frost-making stillness, Not a leaf, not a bird- A world cast in frost. I came out above the wood Where my breath left tortuous statues in the iron light. But the valleys were draining the darkness Till the moorline blackening dregs of the brightening grey Halved the sky ahead. And I saw the horses: Huge in the dense grey ten together Megalith-still. They breathed, making no move, With draped manes and tilted hind-hooves, Making no sound. I passed: not one snorted or jerked its head. Grey silent fragments Of a grey still world. I listened in emptiness on the moor-ridge. The curlews tear turned its edge on the silence. Slowly detail leafed from the darkness. Then the sun Orange, red, red erupted Silently, and splitting to its core tore and flung cloud, Shook the gulf open, showed blue, And the big planets hanging I turned Stumbling in a fever of a dream, down towards The dark woods, from the kindling tops, And came the horses. There, still they stood, But now steaming, and glistening under the flow of light, Their draped stone manes, their tilted hind-hooves Stirring under a thaw while all around them The frost showed its fires. But still they made no sound. Not one snorted or stamped, Their hung heads patient as the horizons, High over valleys, in the red levelling rays In din of the crowded streets, going among the years, the faces, May I still meet my memory in so lonely a place Between the streams and the red clouds, hearing curlews, Hearing the horizons endure. New Selected Poems by Ted Hughes. Faber & Faber; Main edition (6 Mar. 1995)

In this episode, Fehmida talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Still I Rise' by Maya Angelou. ​ Fehmida joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges. It was in celebration of Manchester Literature Festival, which you can find out more about here: www.manchesterliteraturefestival.co.uk You can also find out more about our wonderful guest, Fehmida, and the work she pioneers for women and those who are under-represented in publishing here: www.fehmidamaster.com www.masterhousepublishing.com Fehmida is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. Fehmida reads 'Still I Rise'. ***** You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. Maya Angelou, "Still I Rise" from And Still I Rise: A Book of Poems. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House, an imprint and division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

In this episode, Tom talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Aubade' by Philip Larkin. Tom visited The Poetry Exchange in February 2020 for what turned out to be our last live event of the year before lockdown. He joined us at beautiful Manchester Central Library and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Al Snell. Al reads the gift reading of 'Aubade'. ***** I work all day, and get half-drunk at night. Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. In time the curtain-edges will grow light. Till then I see what's really always there: Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, Making all thought impossible but how And where and when I shall myself die. Arid interrogation: yet the dread Of dying, and being dead, Flashes afresh to hold and horrify. The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse —The good not done, the love not given, time Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because An only life can take so long to climb Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never; But at the total emptiness for ever, The sure extinction that we travel to And shall be lost in always. Not to be here, Not to be anywhere, And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true. This is a special way of being afraid No trick dispels. Religion used to try, That vast moth-eaten musical brocade Created to pretend we never die, And specious stuff that says No rational being Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound, No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with, Nothing to love or link with, The anaesthetic from which none come round. And so it stays just on the edge of vision, A small unfocused blur, a standing chill That slows each impulse down to indecision. Most things may never happen: this one will, And realisation of it rages out In furnace-fear when we are caught without People or drink. Courage is no good: It means not scaring others. Being brave Lets no one off the grave. Death is no different whined at than withstood. Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape. It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know, Have always known, know that we can't escape, Yet can't accept. One side will have to go. Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring Intricate rented world begins to rouse. The sky is white as clay, with no sun. Work has to be done. Postmen like doctors go from house to house. Philip Larkin, "Aubade" from Collected Poems. Copyright © Estate of Philip Larkin. Reprinted by permission of Faber and Faber, Ltd.

In this episode, Jenny talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Mushrooms' by Sylvia Plath. Jenny joined The Poetry Exchange online and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and John Prebble. Fiona reads the gift reading of 'Mushrooms'. ***** Mushrooms by Sylvia Plath Overnight, very Whitely, discreetly, Very quietly Our toes, our noses Take hold on the loam, Acquire the air. Nobody sees us, Stops us, betrays us; The small grains make room. Soft fists insist on Heaving the needles, The leafy bedding, Even the paving. Our hammers, our rams, Earless and eyeless, Perfectly voiceless, Widen the crannies, Shoulder through holes. We Diet on water, On crumbs of shadow, Bland-mannered, asking Little or nothing. So many of us! So many of us! We are shelves, we are Tables, we are meek, We are edible, Nudgers and shovers In spite of ourselves. Our kind multiplies: We shall by morning Inherit the earth. Our foot's in the door. From Collected Poems (1981) by Sylvia Plath, published by Faber and Faber Ltd. ***** For more information surrounding our upcoming event, 'In The Company of Poems', please visit www.thepoetryexchange.co.uk

In this episode, Pádraig Ó Tuama talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Cuimhne An Uisce' / 'A Recovered Memory of Water' by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, translated by Paul Muldoon. Pádraig Ó Tuama is a poet and theologian from Ireland whose poetry and prose has been published widely across Ireland, the US and the UK. He presents Poetry Unbound with On Being, a hugely successful podcast where he explores a single poem. Short and unhurried; contemplative and energizing, this podcast had more than a million downloads of its first season. The second season began 28th September 2020, with new episodes released on Mondays and Fridays for twelve weeks. www.padraigotuama.com https://onbeing.org/series/poetry-unbound ​ Pádraig joined The Poetry Exchange online and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer. ​ Many thanks to Gallery Press for granting us permission to share the poem in this capacity. Do visit them for more inspiration here: www.gallerypress.com Fiona reads the gift reading of 'A Recovered Memory of Water'. ***** Cuimhne An Uisce / A Recovered Memory of Water by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, translated by Paul Muldoon Sometimes when the mermaid's daughter is in the bathroom cleaning her teeth with a thick brush and baking soda she has the sense the room is filling with water. It starts at her feet and ankles and slides further and further up over her thighs and hips and waist. In no time it's up to her oxters. She bends down into it to pick up handtowels and washcloths and all such things as are sodden with it. They all look like seaweed— like those long strands of kelp that used to be called ‘mermaid-hair' or ‘foxtail.' Just as suddenly the water recedes and in no time the room's completely dry again. A terrible sense of stress is part and parcel of these emotions. At the end of the day she has nothing else to compare it to. She doesn't have the vocabulary for any of it. At her weekly therapy session she has more than enough to be going on with just to describe this strange phenomenon and to express it properly to the psychiatrist. She doesn't have the terminology or any of the points of reference or any word at all that would give the slightest suggestion as to what water might be. ‘A transparent liquid,' she says, doing as best she can. ‘Right,' says the therapist, ‘keep going.' He coaxes and cajoles her towards word-making. She has another run at it. ‘A thin flow,' she calls it, casting about gingerly in the midst of the words. ‘A shiny film. Dripping stuff. Something wet.' From 'The Fifty Minute Mermaid', Gallery Press, 2007.

In this episode, Charlie talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'A Short Story of Falling' by Alice Oswald. ​ Charlie joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our 'Lockdown Exchanges' and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett Alistair Snell. ​ Many thanks to Alice Oswald and United Agents for granting us permission to share the poem in this capacity. Find out more about Alice and her work here: www.unitedagents.co.uk/alice-oswald Al reads the gift reading of 'A Short Story of Falling'. ***** A Short Story of Falling It is the story of the falling rain to turn into a leaf and fall again it is the secret of a summer shower to steal the light and hide it in a flower and every flower a tiny tributary that from the ground flows green and momentary is one of water's wishes and this tale hangs in a seed-head smaller than my thumbnail if only I a passerby could pass as clear as water through a plume of grass to find the sunlight hidden at the tip turning to seed a kind of lifting rain drip then I might know like water how to balance the weight of hope against the light of patience water which is so raw so earthy-strong and lurks in cast-iron tanks and leaks along drawn under gravity towards my tongue to cool and fill the pipe-work of this song which is the story of the falling rain that rises to the light and falls again Reprinted by permission of Alice Oswald and United Agents Source: Falling Awake (W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2016)

In this episode, world-renowned actor, Brian Cox CBE talks with us about two poems that have been friends to him – 'Ae Fond Kiss' by Robert Burns and 'I am' by John Clare. Brian joined The Poetry Exchange online, from his home, over the course of lockdown in 2020. He is a Scottish actor who works in film, television and theatre, and as a multiple award-winner, has gained huge respect in the industry for the many captivating roles he has undertaken. He currently stars in HBO's critically acclaimed television series, 'Succession'. Michael reads the gift reading of 'I Am'. ***** Ae Fond Kiss by Robert Burns Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, and then forever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me; Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her; Love but her, and love forever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met—or never parted— We had ne'er been broken-hearted. Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace. enjoyment, love, and pleasure! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, forever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee! ***** I Am by John Clare I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems; Even the dearest that I loved the best Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest. I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubling and untroubled where I lie The grass below—above the vaulted sky.

In this episode, Forward Prize-winning poet Vahni Capildeo talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to them – 'Spring and Fall' by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Vahni joined The Poetry Exchange online, from their family home in Trinidad, as part of City of Literature - a week of conversations, reflections and connections presented by the National Centre for Writing and Norfolk & Norwich Festival. ​ www.nnfestival.org.uk www.nationalcentreforwriting.org.uk Vahni Capildeo is a Trinidadian Scottish writer inspired by other voices, ranging from live Caribbean connexions and an Indian diaspora background to the landscapes where Capildeo travels and lives. Their poetry includes Measures of Expatriation, awarded the Forward Prize for Best Collection in 2016, and Venus as a Bear, published in 2018. You can discover more about and purchase Vahni Capildeo's work at the Carcanet website (Vahni's publisher): https://www.carcanet.co.uk/cgi-bin/indexer?owner_id=1167 Michael Shaeffer reads the gift reading of Spring and Fall. You will also hear Fiona mention some new publications by members of our creative team: Andrea Witzke Slot's 'The Ministry of Flowers' is published by Valley Press: https://www.valleypressuk.com/book-info.php?book_id=146 Victoria Field's 'A Speech of Birds' is published by Francis Boutle: https://francisboutle.co.uk/products/a-speech-of-birds/ Sarah Salway's 'Let's Dance' is published by Coast to Coast, Spring 2021 and 'Not Sorry', a collection of flash fiction, is published by Valley Press Spring/Summer 2021. www.sarahsalway.co.uk ********* Spring and Fall by Gerard Manley Hopkins to a young child Márgarét, áre you gríeving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leáves like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! ás the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you wíll weep and know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sórrow's spríngs áre the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed: It ís the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.