“There are no strangers here; only friends who have not met yet.”
W.B. Yeats
Month: March 2017
Tribute reading for Geoffrey Hill
Fri 17 March 2017, 17:45 – 19:00. Great Hall, University of Leeds, Woodhouse Lane, LEEDS, LS2 9JT. Free, but registration required.
Geoffrey Hill was knighted in 2012 for his services to poetry after a long and distinguished career as a poet and a scholar which included posts at the universities of Bristol, Cambridge, and Boston; and, more recently, his tenure as Professor of Poetry at Oxford. A graduate of Keble College Oxford, his academic career began at Leeds in 1954 with his appointment to a lectureship. He spent the next twenty six years at our University and was appointed to a Chair in English Literature in 1976. During this time, Geoffrey published four collections of poetry – For the Unfallen, King Log, Mercian Hymns, and Tenebrae – works which secured his reputation as one of the finest poets writing in the English language. The University of Leeds is proud…
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International Women’s Day
My Daughter
She’s a chair. Not a comfy one,
but a corrective and supportive chair.
Not the kind of chair to sit and relax,
but at times you’ll feel the benefits.
She’s a sunny day, not too hot, just
right. The sun gently kissing your skin
and the night breeze making you feel
lazy, wanting to stay out until late.
She’s chicken soup. Good for the body
and soul. Whenever you feel down,
she’ll pick you up will carry you all
the way until you’re fit again.
She’s a pair of bright yellow wellies, rubber
duck shaped. When under the rain, no
matter how dark, cold or wet, she’ll remind
you of better days,
making you smile.
I dedicate this day to my daughter, who is an inspirational younger woman and makes me very proud. I wrote this poem for her in 2014.
Red Clogs
My most memorable possession as a child,
was a pair of clogs. Of course it had to be shoes!
They were red with a black stripe and were on
my feet all the time, day after day! Those clogs
had the courtesy of moulding to my feet. But
I also appreciated the fact that they were so
easy to put on; when you’re five, not having
laces in your shoes is clearly a bonus. I would
get up every morning and put those clogs on.
They were like gloves but for the feet. Once
my mother put them in the bin, but I went back
to rescue my favourite shoes, and started
wearing them again. Although they were deformed
and almost certainly smelly, they were still perfect
to me. I have photos of a five year old me wearing
those clogs. I look superb in my flowery skirt with a red
and white top, but the real honour came from my red clogs.
Today I decided to publish one of my first poems, what I like about this poem is that he reminds me of the simpler and easier days of childhood. Whithout judgements and when it was so easy to feel superb.
