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Creative Writing: New Poetry

Valentines’ Day 2016: A New Poem

I’m writing this on Valentine’s Day 2016, at a sunny table outside Cole St cafe in The Haight, 6000 miles away from The Hub. He is in London, I am in San Francisco. But love is what the scientists call non-local and no problem for it to leap continent and ocean. He got me a card, I’ve sent him a poem. The commercial side of Valentine’s day debases and dilutes love, with its cupids and chocolates, completely overlooking how love is a force that destroys the established order, over and again, even in a long relationship. (30+ years, since you…

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Creative Writing: New Poetry

Coming Home For Christmas: A New Poem

Before you take to the shops, the public houses, the clamour of glitz, come home. Step out of the swell into a room where you can hole up with the howl of your hurt and cradle it close, holding still, until you can let it go with you, back out into the cold and the frozen. Let it show you how to love glamour, and tinsel: only as topping. The promise of Christmas is not a treasury. Frankinsense and myrrh come later, as gifts brought in by the wise. Now it is time to be humble, to be true, and so to be…

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Creative Writing

Halting Place: A New Poem

For Wang Wei. And Fiona. Here, autumn has not yet plucked the last of the leaves. Evening mist has nothing to hold but the trees. It’s that time of day, that time of year, when poems come. That ache to be here, to be heard. Surely, soon? You relieve it with love, always have. My dear, I saw you pick up his scarf on our way out, the old one you said he won’t wear any more. I see you wearing it now, worn side in.

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Creative Living: Be More Creative

The Create-State: How To Go Creative

I’m on a concrete pit-stop somewhere between Cologne and Brussels, surrounded by hundreds of resting forty-foot trucks and the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of motorway traffic passing on two sides. Every year I attend Frankfurt Book Fair, to speak and learn about publishing and self-publishing. Usually I fly, but I prefer trains to planes and this year, I’d thought I’d travel by Eurostar and ICE train, via Brussels. It worked a dream on the way over but on the way back, we find ourselves unexpectedly taken off the train at Cologne. Sorry, but there’s a rail strike in Belgium, they tell us. They’ve laid…

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