Tag Archives: SPM Publications

Venturing beyond our daily mien, Jude Neale reads from Splendid in its Silence

By Rebecca Tunnacliffe

Jude Neale Reading

For most of us, reading poetry is an uncommon occurrence. Poetry requires a focus and stillness we don’t often afford ourselves. So when our Island poet Jude Neale recently read from her latest collection, she offered us a rare and quiet contemplation. Splendid in its Silence is Jude’s fifth book of poetry which delivers what we seek in poetry – entry to deep thought and elevated feeling.

Jude read a dozen poems to Sunday’s full house of appreciative listeners. Her artistic gift is the ability to capture an everyday moment and elevate it to an iconic experience. In Jude’s poems we can dwell in the rarified space that poetry opens for us.

She began with the title poem which set the tone for all that followed – the memorializing of life’s fleeting yet monumental moments. We feel the intimate longing at the side of a dying spouse, the push from the wind urging a lover’s decision, the child’s elation of first communion in new shoes. The most poignant moment for me was a mother’s emptiness in the wake of her daughter’s leaving home as she experiences the fading warmth, the lingering scent, the impression on the bed. The images and ideas in Jude’s condensed expressions invite our vulnerability and reward us with an unexpected perspective, a tilt through her characteristic turn of phrase that elicits an emotional reaction – a tear, a gasp, a chuckle, even a shiver.

Hearing Jude recite in her mellifluous voice from Splendid in its Silence was to be transported to a rich inner life. Her melodious performance drew on her singer’s talent, and gave lilt and phrasing that will now forever echo in my future readings. Whether in recitation or on the page, Jude’s poetry touches us, and offers our community a connection to our deeper selves and to each other. We can relate to her poetic expressions that speak to our shared experiences as Bowen Islanders and to a world beyond our daily mien.

Jude Neale’s volumes of poetry can be found at the Phoenix and at the SPM Publications Shophttp://judeneale.ca, Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.ca,

Review by Patrick Osada of Poems for a Liminal Age

Title: Poems for a Liminal Age (An anthology in support of Médecins Sans Frontières)
Editor: Mandy Pannett
Publisher: SPM Publications, 2015
Reviewer: Patrick. B. Osada
ISBN: 978-0-9927055-6-5
Pages: 246

pfala2016In recent times there has been a vogue for publishing anthologies in support of charities and good causes. Some of these have relied on the celebrity of certain contributors to attract submissions, promising the opportunity for the poems of “unknowns” to rub shoulders with contributions from the famous.
There are no poems from Laureates (past or present) in Poems for a Liminal Age, or any celebrity verse. What editor, Mandy Pannett, has skilfully assembled is a gathering of contemporary voices associated more with the “indie” poetry press and magazines than with the Costa or Forward prizes.

Many of the contributors, whilst not household names, will be well known to readers of magazines such as SOUTH …there is a preponderance of work from respected poets, editors and academics. Mandy says, in her introduction, that the book “offers a view of the way a certain group of people at a certain time in their history see their lives and the world they live in.”

Often their vision is gloomy, if not quite apocalyptic – the more pragmatic poems reflecting the unsettled time in which we live. There are poems on war, pestilence and flood; world issues like climate change, terrorism and the casualties of armed conflict. Yet there is a breadth of subject matter : besides topics like earth-quakes, tsunami and ebola, there are poems with a more personal focus exploring old age, declining health and relationships; whilst others define alteration to the natural world : the loss of habitat and changes to the countryside.

However, bleak as some of these poems may be, out of tragedy sometimes something positive can grow, as in this poem by Linus Lyszkowska:

…A 13-year-old boy in far-away England watching the stories unfold on television… vows that he, too, one day, must become a carer, a doctor, perhaps even a surgeon… (The Healers)

Poems for a Liminal Age is available from the SPM Publications Shop, all Amazon channels, and Barnes & Noble. £5 from each copy of the book sold goes to the charity.

This review was first published in South 53 2016.

Review of Cottage Pi by Graham Burchell

Cottage Pi  by Graham Burchell   SPM Publications    Review by Mandy Pannett        ISBN 978-0-9927055-9-6

There are many things to admire in Graham Burchell’s latest poetry collection (including the cover art designed by the author himself). For now, however, I want to concentrate on the aspect that most appeals to me – the detailed creation of a sense of place underpinned by nostalgia for a previous and very different setting and by the pain of allowing new memories to form. ‘I will reshape my steps’ he says in the opening poem and this is what subsequent pieces in Cottage Pi show him attempting to do.

After Hours presents the reader with the situation. The author has moved from a seaside town in Devon, a place with ‘herring gull sky’ and ‘lightly salted air’, to a small, urban stone cottage by a major road and a railway. Here, in the middle of a terrace, ‘breath’ is ‘squeezed’ like ‘a Cinderella between two sisters’ while the tiny rooms ‘cower’ against the busyness and noise. A powerful word, ‘cower’ and it seems implicit in the poems, especially the earlier ones, that it is not only the setting that cowers and shuffles breathlessly. In this new home Burchell sets about his task of reshaping and adapting to ‘new floors’ with ‘memories pressed under my ribs’. A difficult and emotional task.

Good Deeds develops this theme. The poet finds that reshaping involves absorbing the atmosphere of a new place in all its guises. This includes all the stuff and mess left behind by the man and his boy who lived there before – ‘blue-tack on hot-chocolate coloured walls,/stickers on a radiator, a pile of two pence pieces,/ a greasy oven, bits of Tupperware fossilising/on top of cupboards, a drip in the cistern/and a roughage of papers’. Here, in this cottage, a copy of the house deeds brings in memories from a much earlier time. Although the papers are fading in sepia they still offer hope of a new beginning like ‘a birth certificate’ or ‘a treasure map’.

A theme running through Cottage Pi is that of light and its absence or loss. There is only ‘half-light’ from the window where Burchell is trying to read the documents (Good Deeds); he hopes to plant new seeds in his old pots but ‘there isn’t the light’; even the sky is ‘small’ (I Sowed Seeds).

Space and the lack of it is also a theme in this and other poems.  ‘There isn’t the light. There isn’t the space/there used to be’, he says, and the space where new seeds might grow is ‘manhole dark’. In a later poem (The Misplaced House) we have an image of the author sitting in the garden with a book, so near the road that ‘with a fishing rod, I could touch passing cars’.

It is hard to adapt, to accept ‘birdsong drowned, by engine roar, brakes;’ (My Misplaced House). Comparisons provide the pivot between the old and the new. The title poem Cottage Pi details this dilemma – Burchell,  worrying over ‘the exact colour’ of the A385, remembers how previously he had ‘fussed over the colour/of the sea’. In the last stanza the sound of traffic is compared to the sound of the sea:
 …………‘Passing vehicles sound like breaking waves
…………on a pebble beach. The seventh, the big one,
 …………is often deeply articulated.’

There is sadness and nostalgia throughout the poems in Cottage Pi – a sense of yearning for childhood, the loss of contentment with its ‘small moments’, the ‘summer’ of a wedding day. (Summer). There is also humour – lots of it – and lyrical detailed poems such as Fishmore, where the carp live, and Window Spider where Burchell observes the spider that is ‘the size and colour/of a grain of rice, and the legs/are eight of my whitest moustache hairs’.

There is also a feeling of acceptance, or at least of resignation, so that ‘need’, which resembles the sea holly from Guatemala that Burchell grows in one of his pots, does not only contain the pain of ‘a child that howls/having been raised by wolves’ (In my Tiny Garden) but may also become part of another small moment to cherish as one sips tea. (Happiness).

Cottage Pie is an enchanting collection, beautifully produced by SPM Publications, and other readers will find a great many further delights.