issue 218 rbw online
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Issue 218 RBW Online weekly magazineTRANSCRIPT
RBW Online
ISSUE 218 Date: 16th December 2011
Words
Exercises
Assign-
ments
Fiction
Projects
Events
Work-
shops
Thoughts
Your
Pages
Poetry
News
Items
Instead of sending Christmas Cards
RBW library team have collected funds
to support OXFAM’s Gift Scheme
and have opted for supporting
girls’ education and water buckets.
http://www.oxfam.org.uk/shop/oxfam-unwrapped?
pscid=ps_ggl_SL_New_Gifts_Unwrapped
Holiday closing:
RBW library workshops close with
MINCEPIE MONDAY
19th DECEMBER 2011 reopen on 9th January 2012
Submissions for RBW Online can still be
sent in over the holidays.
Issue 218
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BOOK ORDERING To order : Cheques payable to Rising Brook Writers, please. (Do not send
cash through the post.) All are plus £1.20 P&P Order via Rising Brook Writers c/o Rising Brook Library, Merrey Road, Stafford ST17 9LX Back Stock List Available: FARE DEAL (£5.00) STILL WATERS (£5.00)
Thoughts & Quotes ... Thoughts at Christmas 2011
Thankfully, something not often experienced in this country
Starvation is nature‟s way of saying, „there‟s too many of you‟.
No fool nature.
The ancients, full of ancient wisdom, and a gallon of mead
Celebrated the lengthening of the days, as winter became spring.
No fools the ancients.
Technology is our way of saying, „We‟re not animals‟
However, there‟s no way in which we cannot be one.
More fool us.
Christmas is our way of saying, „There is hope and joy,
Let us celebrate the turning of the year and the renewal of life.‟
Only fools don‟t.
Season‟s Greetings To One and All
Clive Hewitt
Acting Chair RBW
HOLIDAY ASSIGNMENT: Time Warp (400 words max)
Random Words: code, wind, Victorian, hat, mascara, mincing, held,
laundered, chocolate, iron (150 words max)
Don’t forget the cryptic clues ... 20 words. (enclose answer)
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nee adj
1. Used when giving the maiden name of a woman.
2. Used when giving a former name. Originally known as.
cantankerous adj
1. Stubborn, cranky, or surly.
remonstrate v
1. To formally protest, object to, or rebel against.
weird adj
1. Strange, unusual, bizarre.
2. Having supernatural powers over human destiny.
dissemble v
1. To disguise or conceal something; to feign.
2. To deliberately ignore something; to pretend not to notice.
3. To falsely hide one's opinions or feelings.
portmanteau n
1. A large travelling case usually made of leather, and opening into
two equal sections.
2. (linguistics) A word formed which combines the meanings of two
words by combining the words themselves.
stentorian adj
1. (of a voice) Loud, powerful, booming; suitable for giving speeches to large crowds.
solace n
1. Comfort or consolation in a time of distress.
2. A source of comfort or consolation.
LIFE OBSERVATIONS
Holly knows how to protect itself from un-gloved fingers. Why do they use so much glue on rolls of toilet paper? Winter pansies lined up in rows like soldiers on parade look so sad. It’s so much nicer to set them free to explore nooks and crannies...
CLIVE‟s three free e-books
NOW PUBLISHED on RBW and issuu
http://www.risingbrookwriters.org.uk/DynamicPage.aspx?PageID=52
http://issuu.com/risingbrookwriters
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Cryptic clues in less than 20 words: JMT
Pursuing perpendicular, pointless poet pens partnership
Answer: Pursuing perpendicular = Rising
Pointless poet = Brooke, – E (compass point) = Brook
Pens = Writers Partnership = Group
Editor’s note: PLEASE folks, if sending in a cryptic clue (and this one is so clever),
please, provide the answer as well. Ta! (ouch ... my brain hurts)
Random words SMS
With a high wind screaming along the promenade, Harold, pushed the Stetson further
down over a high forehead and cursed his lack of rainwear. The Mandarin collar on a se-
quined jacket was allowing rain to penetrate his fancy duds. The “Red Hot Chillies
Country Swing Band” logo embroidered down his back was soggy from salt spray. As he
huddled in the doorway of the Empire Ballroom, chilled to the bones, the singer‟s
thoughts turned philosophical. No doorkeeper was an imperfect start to any perform-
ance and being locked out of a building was a pain, but the condemnation notice he was
now reading pasted on the door was a wee bit more worrying. He patted his pockets for
the booking sheet. He was in the right place, wasn‟t he?
One man‟s meat is another man‟s poison. Assignment SMS
Beefing up his muscles at the gym seemed like a good idea to Leo Ramsbotham. He was
sick of being called “Porky” by old lady D‟Angelo, who was no oil painting herself,
„Mutton dressed as lamb‟ his ma called the nosy old baggage from next door. Who did
she think she was, prodding his gut with her bony finger every time she came to visit his
gran.
„The boy‟s all lard and butter, Stella. Tell him to get off his
fatness, and do something with his life,‟ she would snarl with
those piggy little eyes which shone like wet pebbles glaring at
him as he watched TV.
„Ah but he‟s such a lamb to his gran,‟ Gran would say pat-
ting his ham-shank thigh and slipping him a tenner to go to the
chippy. Gran loved a Saveloy, or a battered sausage. Old mis-
ery guts from next door was all skin and bone, not a ounce of
fat greased those cheese grater hips, or that skeletal humped
back. But he‟d seen her in the offy. He knew her secret. You
didn‟t get circles Polony red on cadaverous cheek bones with-
out a serious habit. She might not let animal flesh cross those
yellowed gums but a heck of a lot of gin did!
Wikipedia
MESSAGE TO RBW send by email this week:
If you are a writer who is looking to improve, who wishes to become a published author, Renegade
Writers could be just the ticket. Group members bring along their work in progress, (and if they
wish) read a bit out, and then join in constructive discussions -- all intended to help everyone im-
prove. Current members include writers already professionally published, a publisher and edi-
tor, writers looking to make their first sale, and people at the start of their passion.
If you are a writer who dares to be different -- come along. All genres catered for. The next meeting is
at 7.30 pm on ...
Wednesday 14 December 2011 --
Christmas special: bring festive food or fiction and celebrate ... at the usual venue, the Jolly Potters, Hartshill, 296 Hartshill Road, Hartshill, Stoke-On-Trent, Staf-
fordshire, ST4 7NH, at the corner of Hartshill Road and Vicarage Road -- there is a large gravel car
park at the end of Vicarage Road. To contact Renegade Writers, send an email
Note: there are no meetings on the 21st and 28th December.
We meet again on Wednesday 4th January 2012.
There is no entrance fee -- just turn up for a friendly evening with like-minded folk.
http://www.thepoetrytrust.org/stuff/category/december-2011/
The December issue of STUFF the Poetry Trust’s online bulletin is now
available on their website.
POETRY AT THE FILM THEATRE College Rd, Stoke, ST4 2EF
Wednesday, 4th April, 2012, 7pm - 10pm
With: John Lindley, Jo Bell, Peter Branson, Roger Elkin, Terry Fox, Gill McEvoy,
Andrew Rudd, Phil Williams, John Williams and Joy Winkler, plus „open mic.‟
Drinks available from 7pm and during the interval.
Tickets priced: £4
For ticket info, contact: [email protected] or 01270 883410
or just send a cheque, (pay „Poetry at the Film Theatre‟), to: „Poetry at the Film Theatre‟,
c/o Peter Branson, „Ash House‟, 226 Sandbach Rd,
Rode Heath, Nr Alsager, Stoke-on-Trent, ST7 3SB
(Your reserved tickets will be available at the box office from 7pm.)
Issue 218
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Issue 218
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Press Release: “Colin’s Story… the Hezekiah Years”
by Penny M Wheat
Stafford author, Penny Wheat launches a new
book to raise funds for Katharine House Hospice.
“Colin‟s Story… the Hezekiah Years”, is a heart-
rending story of a warm, funny man; no Holy Joe,
but an uncomplicated person, and his great God.
It is a story of love, loss, bereavement and grief:
factors which impact at one time or another on
everyone‟s life; - and how a belief in an afterlife
can make all the difference to those left behind.
His was one of the cases investigated at the en-
quiry into the scandal-hit Stafford Hospital.
The book launch and signing was at
Church Lane Evangelical Church, Staf-
ford on Saturday, December 3rd.
Penny also held book signings at Staf-
ford Town Library and at The Baptist
Church on the Green, Stafford.
Winter Solstice. Barbara Barron 2006
The presents are wrapped beneath the Christmas tree.
In bright paper, shining, with tinselled string and jolly little labels.
How exciting for the children to see such indulgent mystery.
There are lights on the tree, which glisten on and off,
And then gradually come to brightness, courtesy of the MEB.
Does this look back to a time when the frost on the trees was almost as bright
As the electric lights?
See the windows sprayed with plastic snow, how quaint and cosy,
Knowing the power of the central heating would negate any cold deposits.
A time of laughter, merriment and jollity,
And fear, should there be fear?
No of course not, here‟s the Xmas turkey, brown and steaming,
With all the vegetable trimmings, dinner amid the wrapping paper
Thrown in a pile, the presents now all viewed on display.
How long before these get forgotten and broken?
There are prickles to Christmas just like the holly,
With blood red berries, so symbolic.
There are pickles at Christmas, storing the summer sun.
And goodness knows summer needs storing,
Or does it, in this time of plenty and comfort.
Why the sun never dies now, perhaps never to be born again,
Nobody really cares about it any more.
Who notices the sun‟s about to die?
When the days begin and end in darkness
Who worries about the God‟s return?
We sing “The Holly and the Ivy”
But we forget the evergreen leaves were summer‟s last hope.
If the leaves stay green perhaps the God will return,
To bring a wealth of goodness, of summer fruits and meat.
The Yule log is burned and carries on burning throughout the winter,
It is a token from the God,
A little bit of sun strayed from the sky.
So they made the small God
A young man well chosen,
The best of the group of young men we have raised.
His is great honour
We dress him in all finery, with crown of holly,
Clothed in fine garments, warm furs, of the best.
He is fed of the lean of the meat, his the place of honour
And at the winter solstice he gladly pours forth his life
To enable the great God to return once more to the heavens, to bring life to others
The holly bears a berry as red as any blood. Issue 218
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Issue 218
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Christmas Stuffing SMS Hot mince pies lose their appeal,
While Brussels and gravy both congeal;
Next to cranberry sliced turkey breast,
M&S‟ superlative, depressing best.
Gold roast tatties soon turn cold,
When cracker jokes seem too old.
It‟s hard to swallow Christmas pud
When welling tears threaten to flood
Down reddened cheeks onto the cloth,
To soak into the Starter broth.
Just count the hours to Boxing Day,
When all this gaiety‟s packed away.
Christmas dinner‟s not much fun,
When it‟s cooked just for one.
WELL IT‟S ONLY CHRISTMAS CMH I was at church t‟other day, it being Xmas time.
Got out the old nativity, its state was just a crime.
The figures they all w‟there but som‟ats got to go,
„cos in the Jesus bit; there was an overflow.
Four Joe‟s; with one that‟s gone PC,
it‟s lost a bit so it is on „The Dis - abil- ity‟.
I don‟t know how the Marys cope, „cos they is just a pair
The cow was good, the camel too, but the donkey‟s lost its hair.
I‟m none to sure about the sheep, they looked a bit like goats,
and somebody has been and gone and swapped the straw for oats.
When it came to the wise men – or was it merely kings?
Of the rich, there was, an embarrassment of the things.
There was seven of ‟em; or maybe there was more;
so I put ‟em down to form a choir on the floor.
The stable needed work on; the roof had come away,
The thatch was going haywire, in a funny sort of way.
The ladder to the hayloft was just hanging in the air
and for the rest, it‟s sad to say, the stable it was bare.
Although he‟s only plastic, the shepherd boy‟s a treat
He was going to a Barbie, and he had brought the meat.
We fixed it up alright tho‟. Well just good enough for now.
A new one for next year though; or there will be a row.
When it comes to thoughts of Christmas let‟s have a note of cheer.
„Cos when you think about it, it‟s only once a year.
Christmas Card? CMH
“Shall we have lunch at the pub?” I asked Janet, my better half.
Better half, who knew which pub I meant, nodded as she answered, “If the grounds are fit
we‟ll go for a walk afterwards. A walk in the woods will do us good.”
Hats, gloves, coats, and scarves cheerfully thrown into the car, a quick check of cash and fuel
and off we went.
Better half said, “It‟s one of those winter days that deserve the title of „Bright‟ with the sun
shining on the righteous and all‟s well with the world.”
I just couldn‟t resist it, it was one of THOSE days, a day to be daft in, “The righteous are
okay but what about the lefteous? Everybody deserves days like this.”
Better half laughed and said, “You‟re being an idiot. Shut up and drive!”
When we went in the receptionist pointed and said, “Through the door in the corner, turn left
and up the stairs. At the top go across the lobby and out of the door on the far side.”
“Excuse me, excuse me”, I said to people in the dimly lit atrium as we crossed a floor
crowded with folks waiting to be entertained. We knew the way and went up the stairway, somewhat
disconcerting for the unwary well lit from the tread level, across the lobby and out into the open air.
Somewhere in the dim spaces between the bottom of the stairs and the open air at the top, we
had crossed an unfelt, invisible boundary. A boundary that took us out of our humdrum, 21st century,
space-time continuum and had plonked us back a century or so. A boundary that took us out of our
material world and into the world of things of imagination and fairytale. A world where almost any-
thing could happen.
The choir in the town square was singing Christmas Carols and as we stood against the side
of a wooden building, the sounds of “Silent Night” and “Once in Royal David‟s City” filled the area
with their messages of peace and hope. We were far from the only ones who sang along with them.
Then, and only then, did we see the small, silent, flakes of snow drifting down and settling
onto the pavement outside the grocers and hardware shops, and onto the upturned faces of small,
warmly wrapped, children who laughed at the feeling of those soft, chilly, kisses of nature. A stage-
coach would have made it a perfect Christmas card scene, but a horse and station wagon was just as
good.
The excellent music of the small brass band carried the same message of hope and joy to our
ears as we sat in the dining room over the pub.
All in all I was sad to leave. I hope that I‟ll be able to repeat the experience next year.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/dec/03/christopher-logue?
intcmp=239
Christopher Logue obituary Poet whose “War Music” was a stark rendition of Homer's Iliad
The multi award winning, Portsmouth born poet, Christopher Logue CBE, was also a
translator and has been described by some reviewers as being a poetry magpie.
As he fell back, back arched,
God blew the javelin straight; and thus
Mid-air, the cold bronze apex sank
Between his teeth and tongue, parted his brain,
Pressed on, and stapled him against the upturned hull
"I'm fickle," he is quoted as saying in an interview in 2006. "Almost everything I do is based on other texts. Without
plagiarism, there would be no literature. I'm a rewrite man. A complete rewrite man, like our Willy Shakespeare."
Aged 85, Logue died in the first week of December 2011, he is survived by his wife.
Issue 218
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UPDATE FROM THE POETRY LIBRARY : Latest Competitions: Inspirational Poems Poetry Competition | Closing Date: 31-Dec-11 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1119 Wenlock Poetry Festival 2012 | Closing Date: 23-Jan-12 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1118 Frogmore Poetry Prize 2012 | Closing Date: 31-May-12 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1116
New Magazines: Kaffeeklatsch http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/magazines/magazines/?id=629 Fontanelles and Foma http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/magazines/magazines/?id=628
Latest News: Items added to the Poetry Library in November 2011 | 09-Dec-11 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/library/?id=874 Poet and translator Christopher Logue dies | 06-Dec-11 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/poetryscene/?id=873 Poetry and the Occupy Movement | 05-Dec-11 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/poetryscene/?id=872 Poetry Magazines received in November 2011 | 02-Dec-11 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/library/?id=871 New survey on poetry and mental health | 01-Dec-11 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/poetryscene/?id=870
Issue 218
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THE POETRY SLOT
That’s all from RBW Online for 2011.
All at RBW send their good wishes to all our readers
for a happy and peaceful holiday season
and hope for peace and joy in 2012
for everyone everywhere.
Here’s a thought from Longfellow as we approach another
new year of challenge:
Look not mournfully into the past,
It comes not back again.
Wisely improve the present. It is thine.
Go forth to meet the shadowy future,
Without fear, and with a manly heart.
And, lastly, in the words of the great
Canadian poet Leonard Cohen:
“Let’s try to be kind to each other.”
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© Rising Brook Writers 2011 — RCN 1117227 A voluntary charitable trust. Issue 218