Happy Phantom Billstickers National Poetry Day
There is a truckload of poetry events on today – I am going to at least three.
Check out Fiona Oliver’s post on National Library blog.
Send a poem to a friend – on a postcard, in an email, by snail mail.
Support our poetry publishers and buy a poetry book or three.
Give your favourite poetry book to someone.
Make up a poem using no more than twelve words.
Have afternoon tea with friends and talk about a poem that eludes you, or soothes you, or sparks or spikes you.
I am not brave enough but try reading a poem in a public place – on a pavement or bus or train.
Try poem busking.
w e l l i n g t o n h e r e I come !
My gift is to post my IBBY presentation on line today which feels a little scary as I couldn’t sleep the night before I gave it.
(Behind every stone or refrigerator hum or cup of tea there is a poem. I feel like I have spent the night in an air-conditioning unit waiting for the silence of home.)
The Reading (for Peter Ireland)
New York City is Wellington
Wellington is Thistle Hall
and James Brown
is reading Frank O’Hara
with a slight sway, the sun
blinding like free verse halos
but still the couple
in the flat opposite smooth
the cushions, butter scones
phone a friend, take
out the rubbish,
before Helen Rickerby
takes to the stage
and reads Rome.