I’m very happy to have been published today in the marvellous Ink, Sweat and Tears online mag, edited by Helen Ivory.
It came put of a chat I had with the man who tends the huge fishtank at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital
Check it out here
I had a poem published in Ink, Sweat and Tears this morning. IS&T is an online magazine which has been running for some years ago, most recently with Helen Ivory at the helm.
‘you have to eat’ is one of a series of poems I have written about my mother over a period of some years. I’m thinking I might see how they fit as a collection, although that wasn’t really the intention when I first started writing them. A few have been published in various places, so it might be worth looking into.
Please visit IS&T and have a wander round. Some more of my stuff is in the archives but there’s an awful lot of quality poetry in there too.
Two rejections yesterday and one acceptance of a poem for the wonderful Ink, Sweat and Tears, undoubtedly one of the best online poetry magazines. That will be online around November hopefully.
Rejection – in life as in poetry – is something with which we all have to learn to deal in our own ways. Inevitably one will take it personally for the short moment after one has digested the rejection slip or e-mail.
I came as a bit of a surprise to find another of my poems published in the marvellous Ink, Sweat and Tears today.
It’s been an odd day, since I had a day booked off from work for a hospital appointment, which turned into an extended endurance test.
However, when I got home, Karma had decided to redress the balance by sending me my new Samsung Galaxy Tab (which was scheduled to be delivered tomorrow) and an e-mail from the lovely Helen Ivory at Ink, Sweat and Tears, to tell me that she’d like to use one of my sonnets in an upcoming online issue. Hoorah!
I shall let you know when it’s live and online. In the meantime, take a look at IS&T, a solid beast full of quality stuff just sitting there waiting to be read.
I am one of those older people who remembers a life before telephones, or at least before we had a telephone in the home. There was a certain freedom to this that was never appreciated at the time. Phones, be they landlines or mobiles, render you accessible day and night, something I still resist by having an ansaphone to deal with the landline and actually switching my mobile off (I can hear the gasps of horror from here) when I don’t wish to be contacted. For some reason this offends some people. They expect their calls to be a priority over everything else that’s in your life. This poem, which was published in ‘Ink, Sweat and Tears’ in 2007, stems from this premise but developed a life of its own in the writing.
i did not hear the phone.
therefore i did not answer it.
i did not register your question as a serious one.
therefore i answered it with a lie.
i did hear the phone
but i chose not to answer it,
my motives in so doing being far
too complex to relate in
this, answered, phone call.
if you knew why i did not
answer the phone it would not alter
your or my life to any measurable degree.
so why did you ask?
you need not answer that question
for the reasons listed above.