Thursday, 28 December 2017

Stuff that is happening now

My computer seems to be predicting the end of days.




However I am confident some poems of mine will appear in Ambit 231 which is out January 2018.

You can find out more about Ambit here.

Sunday, 15 October 2017

New work

If you are interested in new work from me this year:

  • Check out a fresh and multi-faceted magazine The Blue Nib edited by Shirley Bell which the Southbank Poetry Library made me aware of - I have some poems in Issue 13 here https://magazine.thebluenib.com/article/3-poems-by-bridget-khursheed/
  • A couple of poems in The Eildon Tree - the wonderful and unique Scottish Borders publication driving the arts forward throughout Scotland and globally through the agency of Carol Norris, Sara Clark, Julian Colton and Iona McGregor -  https://issuu.com/borderssportandleisure/docs/eildon_tree_-_may_2017__2_
  • If you missed it, I had a poem in Open Mouse - btw I suggest you subscribe if you missed it because this is a fantastic almost daily treat of online poetry curated by Colin Will https://theopenmouse.wordpress.com/2017/03/14/bridget-khursheed-4/
  • I have a poem appearing in the Abridged Wormwood issue (I can't tell you how natural a fit that topic was - Greg McCartney the editor has a knack of coming up with the most addictive themes for poets and artists; not to mention the impact of the photography throughout the magazine series); there is a preview here http://abridgedonline.com/abridged-0-51-wormwood/
    The physical version of Abridged "is generally available at art galleries and arts organisations in Belfast, Dublin, Derry, Galway. Usually for a limited period as they go very quickly". Free PDFs are also available from the website.
  • I have a poem in the soon to appear Issue 20 of Under the Radar http://ninearchespress.com/magazine.html - copies available from the website; take a look at the range of poets featured in previous issues and you will understand why it is well worth getting a copy sooner rather than later as they sell out quickly.
  • If you like a more regular dose of p&g can I suggest you go over to https://www.instagram.com/poetandgeek/ where I post photos taken with a Windows Phone most of the time

Thank you to all the editors and teams for taking the time to read and publish these. Delighted to feature alongside some great poets, artists, writers and photographers.

Bridget Khursheed me and my webcam


Other news: I am doing an MSc in Advanced Security and Digital Forensics at Edinburgh Napier University and still doing my regular geek day job. As usual I am confident I can do all of these things and still write the poetry I want to. It is part of my practice to work and write. A theory borne out by presidential/solder/mother/doctor/lawyer/publisher/priest/spy etc poets everywhere and throughout history. Poetry doesn't stop things happening. It makes things happen.


Mermaid - Louise Morey Bowman


Louise Morey Bowman 1882–1944 is recognised as Canada's first imagist poet.

Mermaid

Fra Lippo Lippi's women had your breasts,
And your great curving forehead - but your ears
Are delicate crinkled shells God must have clapped
Upon a mermaid's head on either side
When he created her in deep sea-caves
Finishing with a lovely sea-green tail
But your white limbs are purely Eden made.

When your veined eyelids droop, then Lippi paints
Your portrait til you lift your gaze again.
Such eyes are far beyond Fra Lippi's power.
For Eve's were not so simple and profound
I think and Lilith's not so darkly grey.
Yours are the eyes that, in those green sea-caves,
Reproachful, stared at God, and at your tail.

Found this in a wartime anthology of Canadian Poetry (Pelican Books 1942); compiled by Ralph Gustafson it has some dreary fare indeed which I hope was at least comforting for soldiers, sailors and airmen thinking of home. The pages have almost disintegrated as it is on ration-quality paper. The book even has its old adverts.




This poem by Bowman stands out: although at first it seems cut from a swirly Browning cloth, it slips out of the Victorian Romantic stream into something quite different and arrestingly sensual. Hope you enjoy it.







Friday, 11 August 2017

#Hawickfest review

Our friend from the west poet Rab Wilson has written a fine review of #Hawickfest spokenword in the National which you can find here:

http://www.thenational.scot/news/15463860.Rab_Wilson__Airts_festival_an_eclectic_mix_o_kenspeckle_ingine/

All we need to add is: good times were had.



More photos are available on our Facebook page here https://www.facebook.com/poetandgeek.ezine

p&g is already looking forward to next year. Thanks Thomas Clark for organising the clamjamfry and Julie Witford and the Cornucopia Magazine for hosting in their lovely venue.

Friday, 4 August 2017

#Hawickfest spoken word 5th August 2017

Looking forward to #Hawickfest spoken word sesh 1-3pm Cornucopia Room (opposite Heart of Hawick) - see you there to enjoy the words of the very talented Jules Horne Tom Murray Anita John Sara Clark Brian Holton and Thomas Clark. p&g will be reading too.

You can find out more about the Heart of Hawick Music Festival here https://www.facebook.com/hawickfest/




Sunday, 11 June 2017

Dorothy Wordsworth on the Scottish Borders

Monday, September 19th.—We rose early, and went to Melrose, six miles, before breakfast. After ascending a hill, descended, and overlooked a dell, on the opposite side of which was an old mansion, surrounded with trees and steep gardens, a curious and pleasing, yet melancholy spot; for the house and gardens were evidently going to decay, and the whole of the small dell, except near the house, was unenclosed and uncultivated, being a sheep-walk to the top of the hills. Descended to Gala Water, a pretty stream, but much smaller than the Tweed, into which the brook flows from the glen I have spoken of. Near the Gala is a large modern house, the situation very pleasant, but the old building which we had passed put to shame the fresh colouring and meagre outline of the new one. Went through a part of the village of Galashiels, pleasantly situated on the bank of the stream; a pretty place it once has been, but a manufactory is established there; and a townish bustle and ugly stone houses are fast taking place of the brown-roofed thatched cottages, of which a great number yet remain, partly overshadowed by trees. Left the Gala, and, after crossing the open country, came again to the Tweed, and pursued our way as before near the river, perhaps for a mile or two, till we arrived at Melrose. The valley for this short space was not so pleasing as before, the hills more broken, and though the cultivation was general, yet the scene was not rich, while it had lost its pastoral simplicity. At Melrose the vale opens out wide; but the hills are high all round—single distinct risings. After breakfast we went out, intending to go to the Abbey, and in the street met Mr. Scott, who gave us a cordial greeting, and conducted us thither himself. He was here on his own ground, for he is familiar with all that is p. 256known of the authentic history of Melrose and the popular tales connected with it. He pointed out many pieces of beautiful sculpture in obscure corners which would have escaped our notice. The Abbey has been built of a pale red stone; that part which was first erected of a very durable kind, the sculptured flowers and leaves and other minute ornaments being as perfect in many places as when first wrought. The ruin is of considerable extent, but unfortunately it is almost surrounded by insignificant houses, so that when you are close to it you see it entirely separated from many rural objects, and even when viewed from a distance the situation does not seem to be particularly happy, for the vale is broken and disturbed, and the Abbey at a distance from the river, so that you do not look upon them as companions of each other. And surely this is a national barbarism: within these beautiful walls is the ugliest church that was ever beheld—if it had been hewn out of the side of a hill it could not have been more dismal; there was no neatness, nor even decency, and it appeared to be so damp, and so completely excluded from fresh air, that it must be dangerous to sit in it; the floor is unpaved, and very rough. What a contrast to the beautiful and graceful order apparent in every part of the ancient design and workmanship! Mr. Scott went with us into the gardens and orchards of a Mr. Riddel, from which we had a very sweet view of the Abbey through trees, the town being entirely excluded. Dined with Mr. Scott at the inn; he was now travelling to the assizes at Jedburgh in his character of Sheriff of Selkirk, and on that account, as well as for his own sake, he was treated with great respect, a small part of which was vouchsafed to us as his friends, though I could not persuade the woman to show me the p. 257beds, or to make any sort of promise till she was assured from the Sheriff himself that he had no objection to sleep in the same room with William.