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88 Posts

Poetry

Original poetry from TheNeverPress - new work and also extracts and full pieces from old collections.

Poetry ⸱ Siobhan Cawson Mooney

546 Warrington Road

After my grandma's death, some thirty years ago, I never set foot in her house again. Over time, all memory of childhood became shuttered there; it was, for a long time, too painful to visit, even in my imagination. The poem speaks of the deep loss I experienced
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Write Speak Recover ⸱ Tim Foley

Write Speak Recover: Maria Mayer

Maria found me through friendship. She was invited to join one of our Write Speak Recover workshops by the always effervescent Dave. Thankfully, she never left and has become woven seamlessly into our little world. She mentions Goethe in her piece and I wasn’t too aware of his poems,
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Interviews ⸱ Graham Thomas

Interview: Stuart Webb, poet

These days everything is so fast and so vapid that sitting quietly with an idea or a concept and creating a poem from it is a healthy activity.
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Poetry ⸱ Siobhan Cawson Mooney

Lemons

lemons I clean my sharp jump rope I’m french-skipping and kissing with handclaps the pointed barbs of her cruel, yellow insults will drive me to cleanse the poison from my heart. There will be lemon-blossoms to dance in as we swing into the sunshine in the city
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Poetry ⸱ Siobhan Cawson Mooney

The Playground

The Playground At Midsomer Norton County Primary the milk bottles are warming in crates in the morning sun sour by the sickly-tasting elevenses. Standing in line for the portakabin canteen waiting to force down cloying, homemade baked beans, we clap handclap games endlessly teach each other variants of intricate,
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Write Speak Recover ⸱ Tim Foley

Write Speak Recover: Dennis Tomlinson

Dennis is one of my favourite poets to watch and listen to. He has an earnest style of delivery, always sharing poems layered with lived experiences, feeling and a connection to the natural world. We met for the photo shoot on a beautiful spring morning at the Wimbledon Windmill which
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Poetry ⸱ Siobhan Cawson Mooney

The Hospital

The Hospital is like a chateau. The trees outside the windows seem alive with the breeze, trying to escape their network of anchors binding them to earth. They huddle their canopies together ~ stretching tendril hands towards one another. They are so full of shapes! the copper earth ignites them – exciting
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Mic Nightlife ⸱ Tim Foley

Mic Nightlife: Av a Word, Peckham

Oi you! Yeah you! Av a Word with yourself… ask how you are really doing, what’s on your mind. Write it down, perhaps in poetic prose. Then get down to the CLF Art Lounge and say it out loud to a welcoming crowd! Keep calm, write it down Watch
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Poetry ⸱ Siobhan Cawson Mooney

Absence

Absence the absence revealed eventually the shipwreck on the dry seabed or like the thirsty lake driven back by drought the remains of her were there ~ naked and vulnerable. She had tip-toed between the sleeping dogs, fearful of waking their unquiet spirits; the knowledge there was no mirror for
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Write Speak Recover ⸱ Tim Foley

Write Speak Recover: Jules

Jules recently celebrated a special birthday and in their Instagram party post they shared Wild Geese by Mary Oliver, which begins with - “You do not have to be good // You do not have to walk on your knees // For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting // You only have to
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Mic Nightlife ⸱ Tim Foley

Mic Nightlife: POW - Play on Words, The Roebuck, Borough

POW! pops you in the face with a bejeweled, gloved hand of kindness - a friendly punk punch to the jaw. An encouraging wake up slap that says - “go on, you’ve got this, we’ve got you, get up there and be whatever you dream to be.” POW! A punch
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Poetry ⸱ Siobhan Cawson Mooney

The Pilot

The Pilot I imagine myself as one of the Chrysalids riding in panniers high on the giant horse, lumbering and swaying through a vast wasteland full of distortions and violent chameleons. I hear excitable chatter in my head, the sound of multitudes on another plane calling me on… I can’
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