Local Poetry Nights are Awesome and the Horror Genre is not just for Halloween

If you see a poetry night advertised locally to you then you must attend (it’s the law).

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Henthorn law…

Last Sunday, on Halloween I had a wonderful time at a live poetry reading – Keri Moriarty is brilliantly talented; this is what I wrote the day after:

This weekend was all about Halloween (the horror genre is not just for October in my world). My TV box and reading list are full to the brim with all things horrific – but on Halloween, I left the house and attended a local poetry night starring poet/author/multitalentedperson Keri Moriarty. Originally from Wales, I am lucky enough to live in the same town as this awesome writer.  Lindsay McKinnon (Curmudgeon Avenue narrator) and I arrived by broomstick at our local, Broad Street Social and we were scared to death by Keri’s grizzly poetry, such as Hickory, Dental Records or Never Leave Me, and Better the Devil You Know. Available to read in Keri’s book Bone Cathedral: A Collection of Poetry (Creative Portfolio Series) Or, if you happen to live near the Bury area (North Manchester, UK) do look Keri up, and attend one of her readings – Keri claims to be ‘unfriendly’ but that’s not true, she’s awesome and is also an artist – look her up on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/keri…  Failing that, support your local authors/poets I had a blast on Sunday night #poetryshouldbeperformed !

Bone Cathedral is Keri Moriarty’s first poetry collection, which explores a series life based snapshots with some using truth as a backbone and others taking a distinctly surreal turn. The pieces included are a mixture of tributes, introspections and reflections commenting on a wide range of subjects from contemplative smoking to grief, from love to identity.

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Today’s post is short and sweet… I have a confession to make – I’ve been overdoing it recently (life, not blogging). Sundays are a day for chilling and eating at our house.

Enjoy the rest of your Sunday,

Samantha 🙂

PS

My latest book ‘My Half-Sister’s Half Sister‘ is due for release at the end of November.

Poems From the Vault #2

Hi Everyone,

As promised, I have looked for (and found) poems that I wrote ages ago. Last week was poems from my Creative Writing module, this week one poem that I wrote at the library course I did and one reworking of an old poem that was submitted for my degree.

Eyeliner

The hallway frames the front door of my home.

Guarding me from well-wishers, I need to be alone.

Seasons, styles or Saturdays, there is always eyeliner,

bold black wings from cut price to designer.

I woke the other day, robbed of my right hand

sudden stolen senses, are hard to understand.

War paint frames my face, I’m ready for the world.

Without eyeliner,  I look a different girl.

Blurred vision, a thousand texts becoming unbearable.

In her best posh voice, she tells me I ‘look terrible’

Healing, time and patience all falls into place

I’m faking being well, with eyeliner on my face.

Samantha Henthorn © 2015

Photo by ud835udc15ud835udc1eud835udc27ud835udc2eud835udc2c ud835udc07ud835udc03 ud835udc0cud835udc1aud835udc24ud835udc1e- ud835udc2eud835udc29 & ud835udc0fud835udc1eud835udc2bud835udc1fud835udc2eud835udc26ud835udc1e on Pexels.com

I’m sorry I didn’t come to your funeral.

The long-distance made it impossible.

Your sister’s phone call echoed strangely,

reminding me of you – I almost knew.

I’m sorry I didn’t go to your funeral. 

Happy days and happy memories,

time dissolved the Christmas card list.

Robins, feathers, bereavement tokens,

I wonder if you know the reason;

how sorry I am I didn’t go to your funeral.  

I don’t know why the above has come out in small writing- I copy/pasted it from a word document.

Happy Wednesday everyone! Samantha xx

I wrote these books! https://t.co/aqJFqYlGWl?a

 

 

#GuestPost Preview! Make sure you read this blog on Saturday (BURNS NIGHT) for a special treat from @lizzie_lamb #IARTG

Hi Everyone! The special treat is that best-selling uplifting romantic novelist Lizzie Lamb has agreed to guest post on my ‘What’s in a (Character) Name?’ Regular blog post. When Lizzie put her post together, the focus was on location – particularly because of the three HIGHLAND BRIDES NOVELS

So, before Saturday – when I expect you will be all reading Robert Burns’ poetry, wearing a kilt and eating haggis, I thought I would treat everyone to a snippet of Lizzie’s post before the big event – Burns night.

Castle Stalker (Photo from Lizzie Lamb – more of this on Saturday).

Here is a bit of Lizzie’s guest post –

Take Me, I’m Yours – a small town romance full of love and passion

Closing the door behind her, India sank down on the padded window seat and, drawing her knees up, pulled a cushion towards her, hugging it for comfort. Resting her head back against the heavy shutters she looked out into a vermilion and gold sunset where islands and peninsulas jutted out into the bay. However, the beauty of the scene was lost. All she could think of was how different the sunset must look from MacFarlane’s beach hut, thousands of miles away. Cool air blew off the lake and through the open window, stirring the muslin draping her cast iron four poster bed. Getting up to wipe her eyes on the corner of her pashmina, she caught sight of herself in the cheval mirror. Backlit by the sunset, with filmy drapes billowing around her, she seemed as unsubstantial as a ghost. A mere shadow of her former self. Dark circles under her eyes, skin without its youthful luminescence, violet eyes huge in her pale face. How had this come to pass?

Boot Camp Bride – a hilarious laugh out loud marriage of convenience romance

Charlee glanced over the low hedges and dun-coloured fields stretching towards the salt marshes where the sea was a black line on the horizon. There was a stripped back beauty to the place and the flocks of birds heading for the feeding grounds down by the shoreline ensured the view was an ever-changing tapestry. Perhaps, here on the salt marsh, where the wind sighed through the reeds and stirred the dried pods of the alexanders, they could be honest with one another. Confront those feelings which had been simmering beneath the surface since the book launch. Playing his pretend fiancée wasn’t easy; the pretence was beginning to feel more real than the life Charlee had left behind.

I have read four of Lizzie’s books. The fifth is waiting for me on my Kindle as a special treat.

 

 Lizzie Lamb’s bio with links –

After teaching her 1000th pupil and working as a deputy head teacher in a large primary school, Lizzie decided to pursue her first love: writing. She joined the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s New Writers’ Scheme, wrote Tall, Dark and Kilted (2012), quickly followed by Boot Camp Bride. She went on to publish Scotch on the Rocks, which achieved Best Seller status within two weeks of appearing on Amazon and her next novel, Girl in the Castle, reached #3 in the Amazon charts. Lizzie is a founder member of indie publishing group – New Romantics Press, and has co-hosted author events at Aspinall, St Pancras and Waterstones, Kensington, talking about the research which underpins her novels. Lizzie latest romance Take Me, I’m Yours is set in Wisconsin, a part of the USA which she adores. This novel also achieved BEST SELLER status >travel>USA. She has further Scottish-themed romances planned and spends most of the summer touring the Scottish Highlands researching men in kilts. What’s not to like? As for the years she spent as a teacher, they haven’t quite gone to waste. She is building a reputation as a go-to speaker on indie publishing, and how to plan, write, and publish a debut novel. She is currently working on #6 – a road trip ‘movie’ where two warring guardians are forced to join forces and set off in hot pursuit after two runaway teenagers.  Lizzie lives in Leicestershire (UK) with her husband, David.

She loves to hear from readers, so do get in touch . . .

Lizzie’s Links

https://www.amazon.com/author/lizzielamb

www.facebook.com/LizzieLambwriter

lizzielambwriter@gmail.com

website: www.lizzielamb.co.uk

https://twitter.com/lizzie_lamb

Newsletter – http://tinyurl.com/ELNL-2016

Linked in: uk.linkedin.com/pub/lizzie-lamb/18/194/202/

Goodreads http://tinyurl.com/cbla48d

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/lizzielamb/

Don’t forget to read Lizzie’s full guest post, especially changed to Saturday for Burns night. See you then, Samantha xx

 

What’s in a (Character) Name? #GuestPost Alex Cavanagh, poet. #FacebookPage

Hello and thank you for joining me for this month’s ‘writerly rambling’ post. IT’S THE MOMENT THE BURY MASSIVE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR -ALEX CAVANAGH. Today, I am honoured to be joined by Alex Cavanagh, poet. He uses his Facebook page words From Within -a page of spontaneous poetry by Alex Cavanagh to showcase his words!

As a huge fan, I asked Alex why all of his poems are untitled – I am interested in titles and being fascinated with naming characters, his lyrical response blew my mind: 

‘That’s my thing’ Alex said. 

Speaking of having your mind blown, here are a few snippets from Alex’s page – do pay him a visit. 

Hidden beneath my beaming smile,
Is sadness and pain once in a while,
My eyes are filled with the light of life,
But I’m hiding something amidst my strife,
The room is filled with family or friends,
But I’m so lonely there’s things I can’t mend,
For the inner demons claw at my soul,
I grasp the grass climb away from the hole,
I’m successful and clever and loved by all,
I’m big and bold but inside I’m small,
I have children, success, and I know who I am,
But occasionally I don’t give a dam,
About life or love or meaningful things,
About whatever this cloudy day will bring,
I slip away from norm and into a pit,
Deep in my head I don’t give a shit,
A darker place with hate, envy and fear,
I don’t want to be there but don’t want to be here,
People around me just smile and walk by,
Inside I cry out for them to come and say hi,
Please take a second for wounds are best bled,
Never judge anyone till you walked a mile in their head.
So look out for people, never be afraid to ask,
Before it’s too late and they lose their grasp.                       (Copyright Alex Cavanagh 2019)

 

So I whisper in her ear don’t be sad and don’t be down,
For there is nothing more soothing than your lovers sound,
Her woes and troubles seem to fade away,
And from a cloudy start comes a wonderful day,
We get dressed and talk and share a kiss,
These are the moments so easy to miss.

We hold hands and walk down the road of life,
Trusting each other and sharing the strife,
We make love and a family and somewhere to rest,
And we grow this and shape this and expect nothing less,
A bond that comes from the beginning of time,
A old deep feeling that’s yours and mine,
For nearly all people this is their wish,
These are the moments so easy to miss,

So don’t waste a minute of this wonderful gift,
And whenever life gets hard there’s always a lift,
From your lover or brother or sister or friend,
And whatever the problem share it and mend,
Take your time and invest in the people you love,
Don’t get pushed down, embrace them and together rise above,
For days are sometimes dark but the light will shine through,
Love you fellow humans and in turn they will love you,

Copyright Alex Cavanagh 2019

 

Such is the day with no start and no end..
A day born from nothing
spent with a friend…
A day with no wind when the trees have no whisper…
A day spent with parents, brother and sister..
A day on your own with the wind in your hair..
A day of joy and love, life take me there.

Copyright Alex Cavanagh 2019.

I’m drowning amongst the memes and the trash,
Not surfing any more just navigating #,
What is real, what is contrived,
What isn’t true and what’s been derived,
Who are the rich and who is deprived,

Is it clickbait or lose weight or PPI,
Is it missing cat on the island of Skye,
How many likes did my lunch get,
Checking frantically not eaten it yet,
I’ve tagged myself and nobody cares,
I’m sure they’re active but no ones aware,
That even though I’m here with my wife,
I need everybody to follow my life,
For if I’m not noticed and fall down the list,
Whilst I’m here living do I really exist,

So I refresh the page about ten times a min,
Looking for something to please my within,
Hoping that people are following me,
And that all my friends and family can see,
That my days are filled with laughter and fun,
Whist wearing gym clothes but never a run,

There’s a message in here, but I don’t know what,
I’m here for is likes , but not trending hot,
I’m pissed off with the world but that’s all I’ll say,
You’ll have to DM me it’s the only way,
Then I’ll tell you my story without glamour and
Glitz,
And you can meet the real me without all the shit !!

copyright Alex Cavanagh 2019.

There you have it! Titles are not always needed (despite my thoughts in previous posts). I do think that novels need titles though – otherwise we would get awfully mixed up! I expect you’ll want to read more of Alex’s poems, don’t forget to click the link in pink above and follow his page! (All words shared with permission). I recently attended Alex’s in-laws’ birthday party, Alex spent all of four minutes writing a poem which he performed on stage there and then. Looking forward to future spoken-word appearances by Alex

See you same time next month for an illustrated bee story and a special Scottish treat – Happy reading, Samantha xx

 

 

 

Now That I am 43.

Now that I am 43,

it’s time the world knew.

I know how to load my dishwasher.

A boring conversation, so why bother?

If I’m having a wine, I’ll do it tomorrow.

Now that I am 43, it’s time for me to say;

ask me if I’m ‘alright’ with your head on one side,

‘am I REALLY alright?’ It’s not your business,

not today.

Now that I am 43 I don’t want to spend hours on the phone.

I’m working from home so please leave me alone.

I’m middle aged you still think I’m a child.

Soon  I will be old and wise,

I’ve got that to look forward to anyway.

Now that I am 43 it’s time the world knew,

that I am free to have my hair dyed blue,

to water the flowers, not the weeds

Life is to short to repeat

the same mistakes.Don’t throw away my

champagne corks

and don’t piss on my chips.

Now that I am 43 I don’t care about the size of my ass,

or anything else, for that matter.

I’ve learnt you can’t polish a turd.

Selfies at my age would be absurd.

Mind my own bee’s wax, easy, unconcerned.

Loving life writing what I write,

I’ve done my time looking after you.

So emotional vampires please keep your drama,

you have my sympathy but not my guilt,

your pity party can remain in situ.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/

Memory

 

Searching the house from top to bottom

for non-existent cat food I’d forgotten.

Did they send those tickets out?

My electric shredder is causing me doubt.

It’s hit and miss if the milk returns to the fridge

I can’t remember, did I do this?

Daughter says she told me

Husband says my memory

is not as good as I think it is

as I take a guess at this cognitive quiz.

Ruminations

 

Gaudy colours and rain.

Whoosh! And round again.

Stomach in my mouth,

there I was. Wondering if

the carriage would come off.

It could happen.

Smile for the camera,

‘ungrateful –  look at you!’

Blackpool pleasure beach

you are bound to see

someone you know.

Why does it have to be the school snob though?

Why do I have to get

some wear out of my sister’s

bell-bottom jeans? In 1982? Why me?

Or those boys laughing at my flat chest

in my pink vest. I didn’t hit puberty,

until after I’d given birth.

They are there in my brain,

the pain of ruminations.

Stacked up like little files of mischief

I wish that I could stop this complaining.

 

Copyright Samantha Henthorn 2018.

Now For Something Relaxing

It is rare, during stressful and busy times in our lives to take a break and chill. With all the excitement of the last week (even though it was ‘good’ stress), I found that I was getting tired. I usually read to relax, but I found that reading made me think about writing, soon my mind was running quicker than my body! So on Sunday, I picked up ‘Cloud Nine And Other Poems’ by Elaine Patricia Morris. Reading poetry is different to reading books, for me. I can just go with the flow and enjoy. Think about the words, or don’t think about them, it’s nice to have a break. Favourites for my reading session yesterday were ‘God of —‘ , ‘Cows’ and ‘Ice Cream For Breakfast’. Elaine’s blog is watermelonseeds.wordpress.com.   Happy reading! Samantha

Pink.

Eyelids unlatched, squinting at beckoning light, unfamiliar hotel bed

day one. Layers lost, flip flops on, colour me sun! bring it on!

Hopes pinned on that healthy glow, sun down, sangria flows.

Day two, water park local’s fluorescent swim suits, and tanned

cottage cheese skin. Hot dog legs, holiday photos, hoping still for

day three healthy glow, that looking slim and younger pretence.

Shakes start, sun stroke, even my goose-bumps are peeling.

Day four, the beach, a floating hippopotamus surfaces the sea

he has sunburn upon sunburn, wife’s laughter is forbidden.

Day five tight skin, tight clothes, throw the towel in. Foreboding,

inherited moles. After-sun lotion drained, long dress adopted.

Day six packed case, anticipating own bed and compliments

‘gone a lovely colour’.  Don’t want to leave, but ready for home.

Day seven the journey, the night flight’s bathroom mirror tells

a tale, there is no glow or colour for pink, pointless sunbathers.

 

Samantha Henthorn copyright 2017.

Drainers

Drainers

 

Who pulled my plug? Who turned my light off?

Two days of darkness just from one day’s work.

Moving trough concrete, life should be easy.

Someone’s at home, but the lights are all out.

A draining conversation in the pool, about world news.

Skull in a vice grip, inside sounds like a broken fridge.

Every second and every day has to be paced.

Who drained me? Do you want to swap? No?

Well shut up.

copyright Samantha Henthorn 2017