Tag: Buzzword Poetry

Beeston Poetry

Spring has arrived, flowers are blooming, birds are chirping, there are more daylight hours to be had…and the poets are emerging.

This issue, we’re paying attention to poetry in time for Nottingham Poetry Festival. We’ve got a few Buzzword poems for you from our competition, a round-up of events and courses happening in Beeston, and the answer to the question: what do you get if you mix science with poetry? Read on to find out!

A few Buzzword poems…

Beeston Lock – Glen Bradford

Taste that rain-washed air,
forearms firm against the iron top rail,
and watch boatmen turn lock key,
prising open slime-heavy gates
for barges to make their way.

Walk where the roaring Trent
froths and tumbles over masonry steps,
past wild Sunday League encounters,
and solemn banks of anglers
guarding over The Hero’s place.

Look. Roots grabbed hold here,
spread north, each branch
eager as a child’s probing hand
reaching to the ice cream counter
for summer’s sweet nectar.

Take it in. Dig the honeyed layers
from gravel down to limestone bed,
sifting fragments of Saxon farms,
to trail history’s hard, glittering spoor.
Because this is the land.

These are the threads.

Salad Bowl  – Cathy Garrick

Beeston, a banquet of curious folk;
The Last Post, the librarians hula hooped with clouds of smoke.
In The Star, they peruse their books;
Patrons from Denison Street and Inham Nook.
The ghosts of Beeston flicker as bygone maquettes,
while the living cruise through on mobility scooters and cigarettes.
Charlie’s Barn, Pet Mart, The Lad’s Club knocked down;
But still a lovingly patchworked market town.
The high flyers fill their bellies;
While Fast Lane runs amok in odd wellies.
Chuggers, terriers, sots and tots,
A melange of Adidas and Birkenstock.
Gaelic tones ring out from the greengrocers nearby;
Beckoning buyers to brussels, beans and broccoli.
Occidental, accidental, academic and Eastern,
The beautiful salad bowl that is Beeston.

The Tattoo – Leanne Moden

If I could paint this town onto my skin
I’d load my brush with countless memories.
I’d struggle to decide where to begin.

After all, it’s hard to place a pin
into a state of mind: a reverie.
If I could paint this town onto my skin

it would take courage and some discipline;
a bravery not seen for centuries.
I’d struggle to decide where to begin.

You see, nostalgia breeds the saccharin,
and true reflection comes through lack of ease.
If I could paint this town onto my skin –

contemplating all that we have been;
the fleeting glance of all that we could be?
I’d struggle to decide where to begin.

Excuses wearing tracing paper thin
I guess I’m just not one for artistry.
If I could paint this town onto my skin
I’d struggle to decide where to begin.

POETRY ROUND-UP

ZINES EXHIBITION
Free, now until Sat 21 April, Beeston Library
Showcasing zines made by the public and school pupils, including anthologies of poems developed with poet Andrew Graves

FAMILY POETRY (Short course)
Free, 25 April – 23 May, 16:00-17:30, Beeston Library

THE POETRY HOUR WITH HENRY NORMAL
Free, Wed 25 April, 6pm, Beeston Library
Enjoy (and potentially perform) poetry with Henry Normal and Pete Ramskill, as part of Nottingham Poetry Festival

CREATIVE WRITING THROUGH POETRY (Short course)
£36, 5 June – 10 July, 10:00-12:00, Beeston Library

JM 

Beeston’s Own Poem

Since launching Buzzword: A Poem for Beeston at the start of August, the past month has been filled with Beestonians and others sending their poems in…

All of these were collected, numbered, put into four groups and then presented anonymously to our eagerly awaiting judges who had the unenviable task of choosing a winner. They produced a shortlist of 12 poems, a selection of which is published in this issue, with others to be published in future issues.

We were delighted and impressed by the entries we received and the quality of poetry entering the Buzzword inbox. There are some truly heartfelt and altogether brilliant poems which go a long way in expressing our community spirit and why this town is a great place to live, work, grow up and make memories.

We have two winners, one from each category. Our under 16s winner is Ava Waring, 12, for her poem ‘What do you see?’. Our over 16s winner is Cathy Grindrod with her poem ‘The Beekeeper’. Well done to both winners, you’ve done Beeston proud.

JM

Buzzword: Beeston – poem by Jade Moore

Beeston (part one)

It’s lying in bed and knowing exactly which train just went by
(because I live in the Rylands and the train tracks are right behind)
it’s the 25 past going to Matlock so I stay in bed till half past.

It’s the too early too loud sound of a helicopter going over my house
and I’m thinking it’s gonna land on the roof
when really I know it’s going to that field between the tram and train tracks.

It’s multiple texts on my phone from my mum saying ‘are you coming up Beeston?’
And it’s arranging to meet on the benches by Tesco.

It’s being half-dressed (or half undressed) and wondering if I’m being looked at
like in that novel The Girl on the Train, a book that was strangely relatable.

It’s walking down my street passing houses I grew up with
most of them with the same people inside
and it’s seeing my ginger cat race by because instead of leaving, I should feed him.

It’s sticking my headphones in and listening to the same songs I
did when I was a teenager, walking up to Beeston a one person Black Parade.

It’s knowing, from home to the high street, where all the unlucky three grates are
and avoiding them automatically.

(yeah I’m one of those people, blame my sister she started it)

It’s waving to the driver of the Eighteen bus as I go over Plessy bridge,
and seeing the love of my brother’s life as she’s on her way to co-op for a shift.

It’s waiting at the Queen’s Road crossing knowing that when the cars behind me move,
the green man will come on soon and I can continue

and end up walking by that window decorated with seasonal displays: it’ll be Hallowe’en soon
and I can’t wait to see what they create.

It’s looking at my reflection in Amores and saying I’ll go there soon
but I never do, cause I guess I’m too romantic and I want it to be a date.

It’s getting to the traffic lights just before Tesco and feeling sorry for the cars who have to wait
because look there’s a tram coming, and which one’s it gonna be?

Is it D.H. Lawrence, Alan Sillitoe, Vicky McClure, or any of those other big local Nottingham names?
I feel a rush when it speeds up then I look to my left

and the 36 is on its way, I’m not catching that one today but I still appreciate all those journeys I made,
the books I read, the friends I bumped into and the conversations we had.

It’s walking by Tesco, and that empty bit of land,
and it’s seeing my mum sat waiting, just where I knew she’d be.

It’s calling those benches Bench Club, cause we’re there all the time,
and it’s saying hello then sitting down beside her for five minutes
before we both get up and walk down the high road…

Beeston (part two)

It’s hearing the price of strawberries over the noise of people buying them,

it’s walking into WHSmiths and looking at books even though they’re cheaper at Tesco,

and it’s going into New Look cause they’ve always got a sale on,
and coming out with two t-shirts: one that says ‘boys whatever, cats forever’ and the other:
‘I need space’.

It’s waiting in Boots for some tablets, or browsing make up I don’t wear,
then ending up in Poundland buying everything I didn’t go in for.

It’s looking in the windows of Rudyard’s in case I see someone I know,
then forcing myself past Thornton’s because I’ve got plenty of boxes at home.

It’s buying a new diary from Ryman’s, because that’s where I’ve always got them from,
and hoping they never get rid of that notebook, because I’ve made a home in those pages.

It’s telling myself I shouldn’t go in Oxfam Books, cause I’m there on Wednesday’s anyway
and I’ll only buy more books, but I go in and look at the poetry
and they still don’t have any e.e.cummings.

So in frustration I go across the street to what was the Beeston Bookshop,
and is now Book Land
and I pick up a tome for £1 that’ll sit on a pile at home for a while
but still isn’t e e cummings (and they don’t have him either.)

It’s ending up where I always end up, in The Bean.
And it’s getting loads of stamps on my card because I’m there every day.

And it’s writing, or reading, or meeting, or just drinking,
but here I’m surrounded by people who know Beeston.

So it’s being on my own in a cafe, and knowing I’m not alone,
because I get my shopping from Sainsbury’s,
and I buy too many books from Tesco,
and I have to divert to Lidl for the pastries,
and I’ve never known a high street without a beeman,
or a small town with so much going on.

So I stick my headphones back in
and pretend I’m a performer and that the whole of Beeston is singing along.

 

Jade Moore

Buzzword: A Poem For Beeston Winner (Under 16s)

What do you see? 

When you look at Beeston, what do you see?
I see a kind community,
A diverse group of people,
All being friendly.

I see a handy, handful of shops,
Sometimes selling things you
didn’t know you needed,
Or something you want but can’t find,
To buy some strawberries you will be pleaded.

I see an arty, army of artists,
Ready to take on Paint a Pot,
Always getting a glossy coat,
But watch out, the kiln can be hot.

I see a busy, bustle of builders,
Rushing to finish the trams,
Having a coffee and an egg cob at breaks,
The tram weighs a few thousand kilograms.

I see a meaningful, mob of musicians,
Ready to show off their confidence,
Blocking out any bad comments,
Just wanting to make a difference.

Now go back to the question,
When you look at Beeston, what do you see?
I hope this poem has changed your mind,
Because I hope you see the same as me.

Ava Waring (aged 12)

Buzzword: A Poem For Beeston Winner (Over 16s)

The Beekeeper

pays much attention, receives little,
despite his years of witness to the bright parade –
babies, boffins, students, shoppers,
meeters, makers, workers, walkers –
the whole brilliant buzz of you.

He has learned the Art of the Chocolatier,
knows intimately the Land of Books,
the stories the clicks of your bicycle wheels
relate, the shush of sheltering leaves
above your fragile heads.

All hours, all weathers, he watches over you,
glad from time to time of your sweetest gifts –
red pom-poms for his heavy boots,
a blue balloon to dangle from his resting hand,
a traffic cone to warm his cold stone head –

keeps safe, perched on his knee,
someone’s drunken midnight daughter,
welcomes the small boy who stares
into his inscrutable eyes
to find his one and only  need –

for you to stop, just once,
let go your busy work and settle here
beside him.  Sit. Be still. Be stone.

Cathy Grindrod

 

Buzzword: A Poem For Beeston

We’ve come over all poetic. And no, that doesn’t mean this entire issue is written in verse. Instead, we’re eager to find a poem befitting of Beeston.

This month we are launching our very own poetry award, Buzzword: a poem for Beeston, in a bid to discover some hidden talent and quality poetry.

We know you’re out there, and it doesn’t matter whether you’ve never written a poem before in your life, if you can express your thoughts/memories/insights/feelings about Beeston in something resembling poetry, then you’re in with a shot.

And don’t worry, it doesn’t even have to rhyme. Take your time, think it through. The right words will surely make their way to you…

This isn’t just a competition for competition’s sake either, you could win £100 (or £50 if you’re under 16), an actual trophy to show off to your friends and family, your poem will form part of an anthology and you’ll be a published poet!

So what’s the catch? Well, there isn’t one. You don’t even have to live in Beeston! As long as the limerick/haiku/sonnet/epic etc. relates to Beeston in some way, it will qualify. You can submit more than one entry if you find yourself overcome by the urge to write…and it won’t cost you a penny because it’s free to enter.

We’ve got some star judges lined up to cast their eager eyes over each entry, and trust me, they’re just as excited as we are.

Our lovely writers here have also had a go at writing their own Beeston poems to provide some inspiration (by way of being terrible), and you can find them here with more details about the award.

Have a peek then take up your pens, readers, and write us a poem (or two)!

JM

Buzzword Poetry Competition

Here’s all you need to know before taking up your pen/pencil/keyboard/quill:

The winner will win £100, a trophy, inclusion in an anthology and much more.
Under 16s will win £50 as well as the other stuff. Judging alongside our editor Christian Fox will be a panel of professional poets:

• Tommy Farmyard, organiser of Hockley Hustle and Nottingham Poetry Festival
• Jenny Swann, co-owner of Candlestick Press
• Alan Baker, editor of the poetry publisher Leafe Press

It is free to enter, and you can send as many poems in as you like.

The winners will be announced on National Poetry Day (28 September) at a special event.

HOW TO ENTER:

Email your entry to: buzzwordpoem@gmail.com
Or alternatively, send it to: The Beestonian, 145 Meadow Lane, Beeston, Notts, NG9 5AJ
Submitted poems consent to future publication in The Beestonian. Please state name, contact details and if under 16 to ensure entry into correct competition.

DEADLINE FOR ENTRIES: THURSDAY 14 SEPTEMBER

Our poems to get you thinking:

The home I’ve always known,
the place that’s changed almost
as much as I’ve grown:
sufficient to make a difference,
but not enough
to lose its touch.
Jade Moore

Here’s an Oxjam stage with an artiste on;
Station platform, has no arriviste on;
There’s the parish church aisle with a priest on
And a playground with kids just released on –
Beeston:
What a sight here for our eyes to feast on!
Colin Tucker

I like Beeston,
I like the bees.
Last weekend I burnt my knees.
I wasn’t wearing any sun cream,
and now I can’t wear shorts.
Because it’s embarrassing.
Dan Cullen

Beeston, it’s never about bees,
Nor is it ever about Dan’s knees.
Lots of places for beer,
Pottle to the weir.
Though don’t get me started on Breeze.
Darren Kirkbride

JM

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