#Morecambe

Matt Panesh, poet, mastermind, whirlwind and festival visionary

The Winter Gardens – Venue – grand, shabby, imbued in history

Johnny’s Bar – Venue – where we build new histories and the audience are warm and lift up every performer

Friday launch and evening

Back in Johnny’s for the evening

Clare Ferguson Walker was a joy to photograph, a new friend

Clare Ferguson Walker, a joy to photograph and a new friend

Apologies, right near the beginning of this blog, to those I missed over the weekend because I needed air or snacks, or was carried into conversation xxx

So, I didn’t catch absolutely everyone I wanted to with the festival running from midday until 2am each day. I am sorry I missed some friends performing, but so happy I got to see them and catch up. It was difficult to choose between supporting people I had seen before and seeing people new to me. The quality was so consistently high. But, I also wanted to chat and catch up with friends and make new ones, get books signed and drink in the September air and feel the rain on my skin.

I had some moments where I had to be outside in daylight and air for a while. I walked on the beach a little and I did venture into the arcade for a short time.

Saturday start with Dommy B and John Hegley – both were their usual joyful, energetic, engaging selves

Firstly, we sorely missed Barry Fentiman Hall who had to cancel the day before the event. I am hoping we both make it there next year.

Trystan Lewis

However, the brilliant Trystan Lewis, who I meet at the first Morecambe Poetry Festival in 2022 and I knew he was good then and he has been getting about and reading in many places over the last 12 months.

He has great rhythm and internal rhyme:
‘I’ve been through the data of the traces left behind’ ‘not been honest with/in their sonnets of romance’
and I found this line beguiling:
‘If you can gaze upon the frightening face of this Medusa, full-square in the eyes and still not be turned to stone’

And ‘Don’t tell Dad!’ is a well-crafted poem of gradual progress and subtle evolution of a relationship between Dad and child. Moving and relatable. The flip to ‘Don’t tell the kids!’ is flooring. ‘Don’t tell the kids that we looked at the screen and we pointed at the shadows and they told us what they mean.’

Nina Lewis

Nina is a friend from Swindon Poetry Festival volunteering days and is based in the Midlands, so it was great to have chance to catch up and hear some new poetry from Nina and some from her V Press book, ‘Fragile’ and share late night toast, chatting and sharing poems in the Air B and B kitchen until the early hours.

Kate Millington

I met Kate when she came to perform at the Huddersfield slam in 2022. Her poetry is an important, honest and moving account of childlessness and Kate shared poems from her book, ‘Imprint’ (Fawn Press).

‘I orbit what I lack’ was a compelling refrain and I felt the fact it kept repeating echoed the way the lack arises in life, but then is forgotten, to arise again later.

Other people seem to judge or guess at the lack of a child and make assumptions about choices and know the way life ‘should’ be lived.

I love the fact Kate leaves us with the warmth of ‘green footprints in the snow.’

Ben Willems

Ben is an old Manchester poetry friend and I invited him because I am never quite what he will bring to the event, but I do know it will be brilliant, surprising and entertaining. I was not disappointed.

Ben’s set was playful and rhythmic and lines that grabbed me the most were these:

‘All masks are animal
bat cave silhouettes.

All howls are answerable
just let
it rise’

and his play was no more evident than in the poem ‘Newton for Hyde’.

Is started with: ‘Hyde’s for bitter…
and ended with these lines
‘…for newt of eye
eye is for apple
apple for Newton
Newton for Hyde
Newton for Hyde
Newton for Hyde
Newton for Hyde’.

My set

I shared poems of beer and connection, 90s indie gigs and the sea. The audience was so warm and respectful, yet loud in their appreciation with whoops and applause. I reckon the biggest and best audience I have ever performed to.

Thanks to Louise Hart for these photos and to Matt for the loveliest intro and for inviting us to be part of the festival.

A little Born Lippy

I caught a little Born Lippy before getting out to walk the shore and breathe the sea air for a bit.

Midlands Takeover

Steve Pottinger and Emma Purshouse are good friends who became even closer friends over lockdown as they hosted workshops and events online. I made many new friends through these online connections. I am ever so grateful some of their events continue to be online and hybrid as well as them having returned to real life hosting too. I realise how much hard work online events are – I find them more difficult than live events to host, personally. I met Richard Temple in the audience on the Friday night and enjoyed his set.

Scouse Takeover

Another treat for the evening with good Manchester friends, Jackie Hagan and Gerry Potter who both owned the stage of the Winter Gardens. I was delighted to see and hear Jackie as Jackie has not been performing for a few years. Then, Roger McGough took to the stage. I loved his coat and is poetry was all I expected and more. All the poets in this takeover were humorous, relatable and unflinching in places.

Roger and Henry chat (Q & A) and the most amusing part of the festival for me – when I was talking with Manchester poets outside I return to my table to find Roger and Henry are in my seat!

Welsh Takeover

After queuing for books to be signed by Roger and Henry and Gerry (I already have all Jackie’s books) I managed to catch some of the Welsh takeover.

Sunday – the final day

Rose Condo – How to feed an artist poetry and a roast dinner for all

After an interesting and useful symposium on how to make poetry walk in the UK Rose nurtured the artist in all of us. We got to blow bubbles, drink water and think about it’s origin and think about giving more and what that means.

Barney Hallman – German takeover

Barney was a new entity to me and I was mesmerised by this bundle of bright joy who was performing a poem about an uncertain snail for us. Also, loved the fact that when I had one of my request songs played he knew every word to The Sultan’s of Ping ‘Where’s me Jumper?’ and we danced and sang enthusiastically in our separate corners of the almost empty Johnny’s as one of the last moments of the festival.

The 4 Johns – Hull Takeover

Several Hull friends I hadn’t seen for a while were some of the 4 Johns. These four performers were a very different style to each other pulled together by the fact they were all sitting in a cafe doing puzzles or reading the paper and drinking tea.

Joy France and Skully

I thought first of all this would be Joy and a puppet or robot, turns out Skully is a person and they are battle-rapping emotional material on stage and it ended with a hug. Brilliant!

Manc Takeover

Sadly, Tony Curry could not make it over. However, it was so good to see and hear Chris Jam for the first time since lockdown and Rowland Crowland for the first time in a year.

Word Walkers launch of zine and absent friends poem

Big White Shed hosted the launch of the festival zine that was made from poems written on the Saturday morning and printed over the weekend.

Carol Ann Duffy and Jackie Kay

Our final event at the Winter Gardens and consistently good poetry shared by an ex poet-laureate and Makar.

The final evening

Sorry I didn’t get photos of everyone – was flagging a little by this point in the weekend. It was great to see friends, Rich, Oz and Gordon Zola up on stage doing their thing again and new friend, Beth.

Matt Panesh – Final poet

And, what better to way to finish the festival than with some poems from Matt Panesh, himself? The audience was still as warm and loud as ever until the final applause.

A little dancing & some last photos with wings and Walter’s coat

How much love was there? A love poem to Morecambe Poetry Festival 2023

There was love in the form of water

in small paper cups.

If you took every tea-pot, wine glass, champagne flute,

every tankard and every barrel of Fosters, Smiths, Neck Oil,

every bubble tub on every table

you would still not be able to contain it.

You can’t buy this or bottle it.

This love is bounding out

like a puppy eager to greet you.

It hugs long and true

like a bear.

It is like a sunset at high-tide

taken through The Picture-Frame.

It is a view that cannot be improved

or imagined without immersion.

Like swimming in the Irish Sea

and shivering at the thrill of icy brine.

This love is like having your request played by the D.J.

even though it is The Sultans of Ping.

It is a German-Irish poet

sitting beneath painted wings

and singing out every word.

And we take this love home with us.

In the anthology,

in our notebooks

and we resonate with hugs.

As we were held by friends, by words, by accents.

We were held by song, grins and humour.

And we were held by this space created for us

to meet, to read, to dance,

to belong

and to love.

Soundcloud link here to the poem:

Listen to How much love was there? – Morecambe.m4a by Sarah L Dixon on #SoundCloud https://on.soundcloud.com/8aJLy https://soundcloud .com/user-956777371-966720437/how-much-love-was-there?

It was brilliant to hang around with so many poetry friends and in particular Lucy Power and Michelle Noonan who were excellent company xxx

Next year – Morecambe Poetry Festival dates -21st September 2024 – get it in your diary!

Return to the bay

I went back to Morecambe, a place I fell hard for last year. One of the places I felt I could escape from the lockdown hangover and find pockets of normal, where I met such a supportive and friendly bunch of creatives. I return when I can. On arrival, I went for some drinks with my co-host, Matt Panesh and on my way home I found myself almost passing Popworld. I asked how much the entrance charge was and it was free so instead of seeing that as a reason not to go in, I decided to venture inside as I could leave when I was ready.

I made friends with a group who were out celebrating the birthday of their 23-year-old son and was dancing with son, sisters and their Dad. A good two-hour dance with a couple of Smirnoff Ice bottles. I was still up for a sea-swim by 10am and joined Matt in the cold bay. The hangover was banished!

Workshop at The Nib Crib

I ran a workshop at The Nib Crib with many of the creatives I had met on my previous visits and a couple of people new to the venue who were attending both workshop and reading at the open mic. The variety and quality of the pieces produced was impressive and some new poetry connections were made.

West End Playhouse

We started with an excellent open mic section from LaGrif, Clodagh Delahunty-Forrest, Voirrey Wild, Jim Lupton, Louise Hart and Rebecca Mélusine Samuels.

Matt stormed the open mic hosting and treated us to a couple of his own poems from his book Tribe: Collective Monkey Poets.

Showcase poets: I loved the fact the event was so varied in style. I think, if I put a bid in for 2023 I will make the variety a part of it. 10-minute platform slots for storytellers, comedians, prose writers, short excerpts form one person shows, verse novellas, flash fiction, pretty much anything you can do with words in ten minutes. Zoe and JJ Journeyman’s sets in particular, had these bid-writing cogs seriously firing.

J J Journeyman

I enjoyed JJ’s props (a hi-vis poetry vest and eye pad – sigh! and a suitcase he took on his trip dowsing for poetry). I liked the playful rhyme of wiser and Trip Advisor. JJ stepped in at quite short notice when one of our other performers could not perform and he wrote the piece especially for The Quiet Compere Tour. At the end of JJ’s set Martin Palmer had one task to throw a Paddington bear into the suitcase…

I was amused by the fact Martin had to take to the stage immediately after failing to throw Paddington into a suitcase. I was impressed he remembered the name of The Quiet Compere mascot, Alex, the non-binary komodo dragon and greeted them as he took to the stage showing he has an affinity with some of the cuddly animal kingdom even if he was not able to throw them accurately.

Martin Palmer

I love the music in Martin’s line ‘damp pet millipede on a doily’ a surprising contrast between doilies and insects and ‘the disused lidos of our dreams’. Martin read poems about the sea air bringing ‘notions of childhood.’

I definitely feel more childlike when hanging around in Morecambe, scouring shores for sea-glass, taking brisk swims and swapping hats, which somehow became a thing during my two visits last year. I did leave my hat behind at the B & B but the host sent it to me and said not to worry about the postage, so I sent some of my poetry books for his guest library. Bit of bartering.

Hat swapping – a new Morecambe tradition

Zoe Lambert

Zoe used props well – the coat, Awake! magazines and a Count Duckula diary. To me, as a teenager of the 90s there is a lot of charm in the references that date this piece (Duckula and Tammy Girl, to name two). Zoe told us ‘at thirteen I know how to say no to boys’ but that resolve and confidence changes with age, which is telling and true.

Sarah Corbett

Sarah treated us to a poem stuffed with singing comparisons that was like a lullaby, ‘he was pulse to her beat’, ‘she was sky to his fall,’ and ‘a flower grown for a word dropped in soil’. There was a lot of detailed landscape in Sarah’s pieces and she told us of ‘closed in valleys, like gossip.’

Peter Kalu

Such concise observation was apparent in Peter’s ‘this is how we say hello/this is how we say goodbye’ piece. The line ‘the sun rose on nothing new’ has stayed with me. And the Ukranian refugees poem that tells us ‘you cannot erase a bird’s memory of flight’ was beautiful and fitting.

It amused me that after Peter’s money-throwing (he asked us to throw notes at him) and the universe gifted me a tenner on the prom the next day, blowing along with no-one chasing it, so I took it as tour income from the universe.

Big Charlie Poet:

Big Charlie talks eloquently about depression and anxiety. ‘I don’t want to admit I am struggling at a time I should be happy.’ And ‘light will come if we just let it.’

And, from The Touch of you:

‘I know the touch of you

And how it makes me feel like I’m worth saving.’

And there was an after party, a hangover, a Sunday morning sea-swim and a long train ride home. Next up Bradford City Library on 11th June.

Oh! And I will be back in Morecambe for The Morecambe Poetry Festival in September.

Link to tickets here: Morecambe Poetry Festival 2022 Tickets | Morecambe Winter Gardens Morecambe | Fri 16th September 2022 Lineup (skiddle.com)

The Quiet Compere