Commonword Blogs

Two Fashion Shows: Kirette & Platt Fields

People often comment on my sartorial style, wondering where do I shop, how do I find such marvellous garments. Total strangers have been known to gasp and shout out, ‘hey, look at that guy: if only I had a shirt like that!’ I’ve finally decided to let you all in on the secret of my style success: I am a keen frequenter of fashion shows.

The Piano Has To Be Pushed Aside (Black Panther Exhibition. Funeral of ...)

The piano has to be pushed aside
The windows should be open: on
A hot day the most effective minds are cool.

Guns should be on display, loaded:
Death is with us. We embrace life,
But we are not afraid of death.

Have the hymn books ready but programme
No mournful tunes, none of that shit.
I want a wake-up ceremony, not a go-to-sleep one.

Lets mike this space up, people gonna be
Coming from far, there’ll be numbers
Make sure there’s trays for the water.

Shadows

Your mother, is she proud,
That her son can charge through my
Living room, making my children wet themselves?
They watch you, nails digging into my flesh
You didn’t bring kerosene, nan, or pani.
Only the dust that swirls off your boots.

I once watched an old, jetlagged, Professor of History stagger up the stage at Carmoor Rd West Indian Centre, Manchester. I was worried he might not make it, he was that frail. He had a mic placed by him and he proceeded to reel off (without any notes whatsoever) half an hour of amazing, detailed facts about Egyptian civilisation. We were bown away. He then paused, looked out at us, his audience, and declared, 'you see, you young people, you must read, read, read!'

Hey dontcha just love it when you write first and then the opportunity comes knocking? I've been writing this travel blog thang for a couple of months now. Never thought much about it. But I've just caught news that Manchester Literature Festival has put up a site which is www.rainycitystories.com and they are looking for people to submit very short stories from all over Greater Manchester

Photoshoot for an event during Manchester Literature Festival. Sometimes as a promoter you rack your brains trying to think up a photo that is not the conventional head and shoulders shot - something that will attract the interest of the casual newspaper viewer/reader. This photoshoot was a real saga.

I often use photography when wanting to write description. Why? Because you can't stare at people -unless you are two years old and not get punched in the face! Yet sometimes I want to stare, to record the nuances of their face.

I grew up by this river, and my feelings for it are so shifting and fathomless that I feel I will write poems about it some day. The thought first struck me when I came across Langston Hughes 'river' poem. I thought it was one of the most moving poems of all time. How could I ever describe a river after having read Langston's poem? And yet, and yet.

A friend recently gave me her tongue in cheek decoding of the terms’ meanings. What do you think? Add any further definitions via ‘comments’!:

Established writer
One who is able to pay utility bills without recourse to Cash Generator or night time working.
One who receives royalty payments that would afford a half decent second hand car out of Loot.
One who has received over fifty rejection letters from publishers.

Emerging Writer

A Wedding: Manchester Mela always combines brilliance with chaos. It’s drenching hot. Round about 1pm, as the streets are already in party mode, a cavalcade of wedding cars comes swaggering up. The wedding goers stage an impromptu wedding dance session in the middle of the road. My four year old daughter loves it. She’s got a grandstand view as she’s on my shoulders.