The Suffolk Poetry Society festival that I wrote about in my last piece, and in which I had been asked to read some of my poetry, was not as daunting as I had feared. I suppose it helped that the weather was fine which always lifts spirits. It was possible too to listen to the poems of other local groups before we took the stage and gauge the standard on offer. That didn’t really help, since the standard was very high, although I am happy to report that there was polite applause after I read my three offerings, so they could not have been that bad.
It never ceases to amaze me what some people are able to do with words, conjuring up fantastical images and events, and creating scenes and atmospheres that are almost tangible. There was humour, drama, pastoral, observational, lyrical and many other aspects of the spoken word on offer. The lovely surroundings of the John Peel Centre for Creative Arts in Stowmarket was an ideal venue. Also on offer was work by local sixth form students. Powerful, imaginative and thoughtful poetry. I was very happy to accept the free anthologies that were on display.
An enjoyable experience, and there are more such festivals to come later in the summer. I have attached a picture of a very serious (glum) looking me (under the banner), waiting my turn to deliver, and wishing I’d been able to have a pint beforehand.
I may have posted this poem before, but it seems relevant.
Lucidity fails in fast fading light.
My brain befuddled as day turns to night.
Tested and tortured by tongue-twisting words,
Farcical phrases disturbing bird’s
Song, as dawn breaks. Breakfast beckons
And in only a matter of just a few seconds,
As the eggs that are scrambled with coffee brewed,
My head becomes clear, my thoughts all unscrewed.
I now find the urge to continue to write.
I’ve banished the block that happened last night.
The poetry flows, the metre intact.
I might even finish this poem. In fact…
Wally Smith 