My poem ADMISSION, ON LEAVING THE PORT OF BELFAST, 1988 has been selected for inclusion in the Northern Ireland section of the anthology Places of Poetry: Mapping the Nation in Verse.
The book will comprise 180 poems arranged in 8 sections: Wales; England divided into 5 regions; Scotland and Northern Ireland. Each region will open with one or two famous (out of copyright) poems from that area, followed by poems from the Map. Continue reading Poem in Places of Poetry anthology
I’ve finished the first draft of my novel, Thorn. I have to set it aside for a while to get some perspective on it, so I’d like to mark this milestone by saying thank you for the help and kindness I have received during the research and writing. I am looking forward to thanking everyone properly – inside the covers of the published book – and perhaps anything less than an exhaustive set of thanks risks making someone feel left out, nonetheless I want to express my gratitude in a ‘big picture’ way at this point. Continue reading First draft of novel completed
I really enjoyed giving this one-day hands-on Pitching Skills workshop in Cardiff on 6th February for CULT Cymru. It was inspiring to encounter the passion people brought to their projects and to be in the same room as so much imagination and dedication. And I felt that each of us was so pleased to see our colleagues’ work develop in its clarity and focus.
In the workshop there are sessions on Pitch Theory, Content, Design and Delivery with an hour of preparation time before lunch. Each participant has the chance to deliver a 3-minute verbal pitch twice. Feedback is given on each delivery and one-to-one attention is offered to help focus the pitch content and design. Continue reading My Pitching for Creatives Workshop
My poem ‘The Landing Window’ has been selected for inclusion in the Community Arts Partnership’s Poetry in Motion Anthology, entitled “20:20 Vision”.
The anthologised poems are eligible for the Seamus Heaney Award for New Writing.
Damian Smyth, Head of Literature and Drama at the Arts Council of Northern Ireland, has stressed that, ‘The Seamus Heaney Awards, as offered by CAP, are the only awards in the world to carry his name.’ Continue reading Poem in Community Arts Partnership Anthology
Woolworth’s Employee, Reid Street, Belfast, 1965
My father — stockroom-man, Store Fifty-nine —
Knew how Christmas ought to look,
Loading emptied shelves afresh each day
With shiny things; with holly colours;
All that brought the outdoors safely in —
Electric stars, snow in a globe
And plastic icicles. He could afford
Red tape and Blanco whitening.
Voilà! A wintry window, many-paned,
Its left-hand corners blizzarded.
My father wanted us to feel secure.
Here we are, in the flash-photograph
He took through the window from outside; my teethy play-along
Bleached by the bulb-pop, my mother’s hair
Combed long for effect. His family. His idyll.
Some of it was fake. Not all.
At least he tried to make a Christmas for us.
His high-point, a Stewart’s grocery manager
But, pro-trade union and the wrong religion,
Soon purged. A Merchant Navy
Cook before that; formerly a steward, a cabin boy.
A life of feed, fetch, carry.
Coronary. Just short of fifty-nine.
https://www.walesartsreview.org/poetry-my-speaking-tongue-by-will-johnson/
17th January 2020. Crossing the Irish Sea – in the age of climate challenge.
I am delighted to have a poem in this journal produced by students on the MA in English and MA in Creative Writing at the University of Limerick. The 2019 edition has a particularly thoughtful and coherent design which draws the contents together visually by simple and appropriate means. The foliage motif (below) combines with an on-page ogham-style vertical element in an elegant colour scheme. The 2020 edition is underway.
TWO AUTUMNS
Beyond the classroom window
The young tree burns, orange against drab,
Its loosened leaves drifting like languid fire-flakes.
I am ten and I try my hand at a Pearsean ennui,
Picked up from Palgrave’s ‘Anglo-Irish Supplement’:
O, the sorrow of the world is on me
And I’m tired with life…
I am as old as the wind that ferrets in the trees,
As the hidden sun and the pale and empty sky.
Today I’m sixty-one and beyond the window here
My acer shoots from its crown
The green stars of its year’s new growth
Skywards on arching scarlet rods.
Between trees – more than fifty years, the Irish Sea.
I could die now: spouse companioned through the turbulent years;
Children reared; grandparents in their graves.
Wasn’t it the solstice yesterday? A shortening of light
But, I predict, tonight we’ll be astonished once again
At the landing spotlit by a seven-eighths moon
Lancing through the toilet window.
What is it that I’ve learned? Windows are good and I
Should get out of my own light.
NADOLIG
Nos
Seren
Addewid
Cyflawniad
Twyllwch yn llawn lleisiau
Diwedd unigrwydd.
CHRISTMAS
Night
A star
A promise
A fulfilment
Darkness full of voices
An end to loneliness