I asked my good friend Naomi Woddis if she would let me publish a poem or two on the blog and also a photograph as she is also a serious photographer and she kindly agreed. Naomi and I are working together on a radio show for National Poetry Day for Reels Rebel Radio, so I'm getting to spend some lovely meetings and chats at her beautiful place in Highbury and Islington. It's a magical place, with doors that open off the kitchen onto a brilliant garden. You could hardly believe you're in central London, I think it's one of the nicest places I've seen to live ever. I do love London so much.
Here's one of Naomi's poems. I don't want to publish them all at once as I want to write some more about Naomi later, and that will give me a great excuse to do so.
Plaster dust laces a light bulb. Beyond
this the smell of newly daubed emulsion
is an echo in the nostrils, a slouch
of damp, the stench of not moving.
The careless invitation of a three-seater,
its screech of red is the only real warmth
you'll find. Its fake fur covering, your last
lurch at tenderness. Lint gathers in its cracks.
I'm all the comfort you'll ever need it says.
But, sinking in to its hopeful upholstery
you find there is no way of getting up.