Simon Armitage … Magnetic Field Recordings #3

Hello World! Poet Laureate Simon Armitage gets out of his shed and reads Kitchen Window from his latest poetry collection Magnetic Field, in his weekly broadcasts from Marsden village … … when does a village become a town? #AskingForAFriend P.S. I miss the shed …

The Poetry Archive

Sitting in a Semi (after David Bowie) is now up on The Poetry Archive … if you have the time, why not pop over and have a listen, maybe leave a comment and have a look at the other wonderful stuff that’s available? The Poetry Archive “is a not-for-profit organisation that produces, acquires and preserves…

NorthernJim Poetry

Over on that YouTube, I’ve re-opened my poetry channel and uploaded half a dozen poems. Please go and have a look (link below), subscribe and/or leave a comment if you wish. The recordings were done either side of a severe shaving but I’m pleased to say the beard is returning now that I’ve given the…

Simon Armitage … Magnetic Field Recordings #2

More marvellous stuff from Marsden … Note:  Privet always makes me think of the school stick insect I looked after one summer. It ate privet from our garden, but escaped in the house and laid eggs all over the place which hatched at various times so that we experienced a biblical infestation over the subsequent…

Simon Armitage … Magnetic Field Recordings #1

Amazing what you find on that YouTube. The Poet Laureate is doing weekly broadcasts from his latest work (Magnetic Field) and needs a bigger audience than just the sheep of Marsden (tough crowd) … #Brill #Poetry See more info >>> HERE

This Work Is Done

This is an old feeling, standing by this evening’s field, these dark rags hanging, strung on wire, beaks silent and unmoving under a stretched sky. So which lore or gods apply? Would it help to free your feathers, wake thought and memory in cold skulls, wear a black cape in silhouetted brotherhood? Should I take…

On The Road To Samaria

In these shoes, I negotiate life in the third person; toes swathed in top quality calfskin, safe from random shit and shards, where neither grass nor paved path can sully these soft arches and soles. I wear these suits; an actor avoiding the fourth wall, costumed and painted with lines learnt, senses fenced off with…