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MTG Report

Poetry:

As I was walking

Poems from Phab

Welcome to our projects page

Updated 16/6/02

The

Minding the Gap Anthology

is now sold out!

Top

Minding the Gap

East Street Poets and the Minding the Gap Project, 2001.

How did this project start, and what is it?

In my recollection, it seems to have sprung from various ESP group members’ concerns and comments as to how and why East Street Poets could reach out into the local community in discussions taking place in and around members’ homes, when we were considering the progress of the Difference and the Other theme that we had adopted as our central motif the previous year, and at the then ESP venue, Scruples Cafe, in November, 2000.

I sent out a note towards forming pilot groups on 18 November:

‘ I see this project as being concerned with fostering creative talent in those individuals who may feel themselves to be socially excluded.

This project can take many forms, using any medium that will enhance self- fulfillment and development, fostering that talent and a sense of personal achievement.

Any of the art mediums, technology, electronic information can and should be used to emphasise and give value to creativity and imagination.

Community regeneration, social cohesion and the value of the individual within the social unit will moreover help to lead to sustainable economic development.

We in the twenty-first century are deeply involved in the service industry: what kind of service to the community can poetry be asked to provide?

We hope to seek out and honour individuals who might be left on the sidelines, whether in mainstream schools, hospitals, hospices, homes for the older adult, so-called ‘special schools’, prisons, remand homes, day care centres and the clubs that hope to help individuals with very special needs.’

We wanted to make poetry much more accessible to everybody.

Copies went to David Caddy, then Chair of the East Street Poets, Debbie Ansell, Administrator, Peter Thomas, Treasurer, Westrow Cooper, Mo and Andy Kiesievicz, Janet Peters, Mary Woods, Patricia Hannah, Barbara Ellis and Brenda Smith.

Suggestions were made by various members of the ESP group to take our joy and delight in poetry out into our local community to share this with any group that might listen, but particularly with groups that might not easily have access into the world of poetry.

We wanted to allow poetry’s image to become part of the real world by deconstructing that slightly 'precious' image that poets and poetry still sometimes suffer from.

The project was formally adopted at the East Street Poets AGM.

Schools were envisaged as an integral part of this target which would benefit from a retail therapy type of approach: from my extensive involvement in education, particularly in the secondary school system, poetry is still perceived by many young students as a set subject where the joy can often be clouded by the demands of the curriculum, even sometimes despite the very best efforts of gifted teachers. Obviously, some students are fortunate enough to have teachers who can supersede the rigour of this project/ courseware deadline, that curriculum assignation, but many staff are suffering from chronic paperwork syndrome. We wanted very much to share the excitement of the word in a way that would inspire young people, to surprise them with that moment of magical recognition, and to reinforce their confidence in their writing skills.

There are many social groups whose isolation from the community, within the community, could be perceived as marginal, others who probably feel themselves, rightly, to feel much more isolated. Some of course are more difficult to gain access to; with these we need more experience and more courage, and maybe that is yet to come.

Initially, we had high hopes of visiting at least six community based groups. We thought of hospitals, prison, so-called special schools, drop-in centres, hospices, and other clubs that do exist for individuals whose needs are special.

Letters went out. Replies and invitations came from the Four Leaf Clover Club, Phab, and from the Stour Castle Social and Educational Centre.

Visits were made, workshops planned and arranged in the light of these visits, and then the real fun, especially at this point, our own learning, began. Our ideas were tested and sometimes put to flight: we had a sharp learning curve to assimilate. We were often humbled by inexperience and lack of understanding.

Schools were seen as another special case. We decided to run a competition, asking for no more than a token donation of stamps per individual entry, or a suggested donation for a whole school entry. Although the flyer showed the Minding the Gap wording, and the picture of the hare so very generously donated by its creator, the artist Tom Lywood, no theme was set. Freedom of self expression in any written form, of any length, was envisaged. We did not wish to inhibit in any way.

We were inundated: over 365 poems flooded in! One set of amazing poems came from London, the young poet having found a leaflet in the Poetry Library, a lovely poem by a nine year old came from Oxfordshire, several private entries came from in from south and west Dorset towns and villages, and many from the local North Dorset Schools.

We offered internal workshops. Some schools overlooked these in the mass of paperwork, others responded after individual telephone calls. Some, as we had feared, could not fit them into their timetables or after school clubs. Getting children home from school after school activities remains a problem in the countryside.

Yet we were able to visit a village primary school where real delight in poetry very soon became apparent. We had great fun in one class following through from famous nonsense poetry to the children’s computer-speak and mobile- phone inspired text poems. In another, sensual associations were defined and refined. In this class, an awareness of language structure was very firmly in place, and was most successfully made to serve the needs of the poem.

The evening of the children’s workshops on the first night of the East Street Poets’ 7th Wessex International Poetry Festival, when we awarded the children’s prizes resulted in many pleasant surprises. Our two visiting authors, David R. Morgan and David Orme, gave a workshop that had the children buzzing. Parents came to say how their child had been very encouraged by their success, and had had their confidence in creative writing renewed.

Later, as the Anthology flyers were completed, parents wrote in with the same kind of comment. The local papers, the Blackmore Vale and the Western Gazette, printed articles and photographs.

Members of the four clubs and day centres we had visited had originally been encouraged to leave copies of their own poems with us. They too were delighted at the prospect of having their best efforts rewarded with selection for publication.

The way forward. We hope to have another series of workshops, and another children’s poetry competition, in 2002.

We aim to raise money for ‘our’ groups: profits from the sale of this anthology will be allocated to them.

We hope you enjoy the read, and will share with us our delight in this Minding the Gap Anthology.

Valerie Bridge

The Minding the Gap Project Team members:

Project Director: David Caddy

Project Leader: Valerie Bridge

Project Administrator: Debbie Ansell

Assistant Project Workshop Leaders:

Patricia Hannah, Janet Peters, Mary Wood

Project Finance: Peter Thomas

Anthology Artwork: Tom Lywood

Project Support : Barbara Ellis

We were sponsored by South West Arts and North Dorset District Council.

As I was walking over a hill

I saw a man turn into a pill

I saw a factory of strawberry laces

I saw purple dancing pencil cases

I saw a load of multi-coloured frogs

I saw unfreezing living hot-dogs

I saw an incy wincy wise cat

I saw the Queen’s sparkly hat

I saw a monster ugly and mean

Then I woke up, it was just a dream.

Millie Donaldson

Picture by Georgia Ansell

Magic

A box

a red tin box

obviously well used

quite ordinary really

except –

some magic marks on the top

Inside cards

red playing cards

obviously well used

quite ordinary really

except – some magic marks on the corners

Card games

game people like to play

together

with family and friends

using your wits

include discussion, perhaps a drink

banter, laughter

the stuff of life

quite ordinary really

except –

unable to see – are you excluded?

Enabling

a word

a word in a dictionary

eight letters

quite ordinary really

except –

this word describes the magic marks

Braille – enabling inclusion – magic!

Pam Rogers

(PHAB)

A Bed

A bed that is pink

Floating along my street

In the rain

I jump in the soft mattress

And dream my wonderful dream

With angels

Anna Hill

(PHAB)

I sneak open a box

It is not mine

it is small and shiny

and hard like a 10p piece

I do not know what it is

inside

I know it goes up your nose

and makes you sneeze

it belongs to my Grandad

Katie Millar and Claire Burden

(PHAB)

We Can – Can’t We?

A box is large isn’t it?

this one takes photos doesn’t it?

It’s a box Brownie

A jewel box has lots of jewellery

in it – doesn’t it?

I keep it in the wardrobe – don’t I?

This one is full of biscuits – isn’t it?

It’s a square one

It’s got a lovely mixture

in it – hasn’t it?

I like the last one most

because I can eat from it

can’t I?

Pauline Briggs

(PHAB)

The cardboard box

From a very young age

I liked climbing into boxes

made of cardboard

How safe and secure I was

attached to the floor

with spy holes as windows

and a small chair to sit on

or use as a door

No tree house for us

we were too poor

Now I am older

and having lived in a big box made of bricks, mortar, sand and cement

for which I struggled sometimes to pay the rent

which made it far less secure than the cardboard box

but I didn’t mind

because I have the same imagination and drive

as I had as a child

I will compromise

and move

to help make ends meet

So I packed my stuff

and in a huff

made my way to a small bay fronted flat

at the end of the street

No leaks in the roof and missing tiles

a beautiful view

where you can see for miles

No chilly hallways with damp on the walls

an indoor letter box for when the postman calls

Double glazed front and back

to cut down the noise from the railway track

A place that is easy to tidy

when I come home from work

on a Friday

An open log fire to keep me warm

Let’s batten down the hatches, yet another storm

The garden is tended by the old lady living downstairs

She charges me little for the hire of the television stand, wardrobe,

dining table and spindle-back chairs

And even though I look a the world from a different point of view now

My innocence gone

comfortable here

with no one to row

Echoes of laughter to smile at

A cat called Boots

sitting on the doormat

ready for her meal

I am glad after the hurricane the roof garden is still properly tiled

so the birman can relax and climb into that old cardboard box

I loved so much as a child.

Ralph Cochrane

(PHAB)

Multi-coloured rainbows for my Nan

I like oak

because it is strong

I also like feathers

because they are soft

but best of all

my favourite

is the cushion I made for my Nan

my multi-coloured rainbow

Stevie Cribb

(PHAB)

Little Fish

I wish,

I was a little fish,

With teeth as big as nails,

Small enough to run and hide,

Teeth big enough not to hurt my pride,

The only thing you have to wish,

Is not to pick on this little fish.

Jason Croasdell

(PHAB)

My Big Mouth.

My big mouth chews and chomps.

My big mouth eats what it wants,

I try not to think about food at the time,

But when I look in the window,

My diet’s on the line,

I try to resist the goodies galore,

The more I eat the more I want more,

But I feel guilty eating that last cream cake,

It seems a shame to see that fat go to waist,

Just a lick “Mmm” just a taste,

I know it sounds silly trying to stay thin,

When you just pigout for hours on end,

Thin isn’t beautiful its just plain sad,

When your tummy gurgles it drives you mad,

Starving yourself for who and for what,

Be at peace with yourself,

And be happy with what you’ve got,

And when people stop and stare as you waddle and wave,

Just remind those people that,

FOOD IS THEIR SLAVE!!!

Jason Croasdell

(PHAB)

*homepage* Contents: MTG Report Poetry: As I was walking Poems from Phab	Welcome to our projects page	Updated 16/6/02 The *Minding the Gap* Anthology *is now sold out!* Top
	Minding the Gap
	East Street Poets and the Minding the Gap Project, 2001. How did this project start, and what is it? In my recollection, it seems to have sprung from various ESP group members’ concerns and comments as to how and why East Street Poets could reach out into the local community in discussions taking place in and around members’ homes, when we were considering the progress of the Difference and the Other theme that we had adopted as our central motif the previous year, and at the then ESP venue, Scruples Cafe, in November, 2000. I sent out a note towards forming pilot groups on 18 November: ‘ I see this project as being concerned with fostering creative talent in those individuals who may feel themselves to be socially excluded. This project can take many forms, using any medium that will enhance self- fulfillment and development, fostering that talent and a sense of personal achievement. Any of the art mediums, technology, electronic information can and should be used to emphasise and give value to creativity and imagination. Community regeneration, social cohesion and the value of the individual within the social unit will moreover help to lead to sustainable economic development. We in the twenty-first century are deeply involved in the service industry: what kind of service to the community can poetry be asked to provide? We hope to seek out and honour individuals who might be left on the sidelines, whether in mainstream schools, hospitals, hospices, homes for the older adult, so-called ‘special schools’, prisons, remand homes, day care centres and the clubs that hope to help individuals with very special needs.’ We wanted to make poetry much more accessible to everybody. Copies went to David Caddy, then Chair of the East Street Poets, Debbie Ansell, Administrator, Peter Thomas, Treasurer, Westrow Cooper, Mo and Andy Kiesievicz, Janet Peters, Mary Woods, Patricia Hannah, Barbara Ellis and Brenda Smith. Suggestions were made by various members of the ESP group to take our joy and delight in poetry out into our local community to share this with any group that might listen, but particularly with groups that might not easily have access into the world of poetry. We wanted to allow poetry’s image to become part of the real world by deconstructing that slightly 'precious' image that poets and poetry still sometimes suffer from. The project was formally adopted at the East Street Poets AGM. Schools were envisaged as an integral part of this target which would benefit from a retail therapy type of approach: from my extensive involvement in education, particularly in the secondary school system, poetry is still perceived by many young students as a set subject where the joy can often be clouded by the demands of the curriculum, even sometimes despite the very best efforts of gifted teachers. Obviously, some students are fortunate enough to have teachers who can supersede the rigour of this project/ courseware deadline, that curriculum assignation, but many staff are suffering from chronic paperwork syndrome. We wanted very much to share the excitement of the word in a way that would inspire young people, to surprise them with that moment of magical recognition, and to reinforce their confidence in their writing skills. There are many social groups whose isolation from the community, within the community, could be perceived as marginal, others who probably feel themselves, rightly, to feel much more isolated. Some of course are more difficult to gain access to; with these we need more experience and more courage, and maybe that is yet to come. Initially, we had high hopes of visiting at least six community based groups. We thought of hospitals, prison, so-called special schools, drop-in centres, hospices, and other clubs that do exist for individuals whose needs are special. Letters went out. Replies and invitations came from the Four Leaf Clover Club, Phab, and from the Stour Castle Social and Educational Centre. Visits were made, workshops planned and arranged in the light of these visits, and then the real fun, especially at this point, our own learning, began. Our ideas were tested and sometimes put to flight: we had a sharp learning curve to assimilate. We were often humbled by inexperience and lack of understanding. Schools were seen as another special case. We decided to run a competition, asking for no more than a token donation of stamps per individual entry, or a suggested donation for a whole school entry. Although the flyer showed the Minding the Gap wording, and the picture of the hare so very generously donated by its creator, the artist Tom Lywood, no theme was set. Freedom of self expression in any written form, of any length, was envisaged. We did not wish to inhibit in any way. We were inundated: over 365 poems flooded in! One set of amazing poems came from London, the young poet having found a leaflet in the Poetry Library, a lovely poem by a nine year old came from Oxfordshire, several private entries came from in from south and west Dorset towns and villages, and many from the local North Dorset Schools. We offered internal workshops. Some schools overlooked these in the mass of paperwork, others responded after individual telephone calls. Some, as we had feared, could not fit them into their timetables or after school clubs. Getting children home from school after school activities remains a problem in the countryside. Yet we were able to visit a village primary school where real delight in poetry very soon became apparent. We had great fun in one class following through from famous nonsense poetry to the children’s computer-speak and mobile- phone inspired text poems. In another, sensual associations were defined and refined. In this class, an awareness of language structure was very firmly in place, and was most successfully made to serve the needs of the poem. The evening of the children’s workshops on the first night of the East Street Poets’ 7th Wessex International Poetry Festival, when we awarded the children’s prizes resulted in many pleasant surprises. Our two visiting authors, David R. Morgan and David Orme, gave a workshop that had the children buzzing. Parents came to say how their child had been very encouraged by their success, and had had their confidence in creative writing renewed. Later, as the Anthology flyers were completed, parents wrote in with the same kind of comment. The local papers, the Blackmore Vale and the Western Gazette, printed articles and photographs. Members of the four clubs and day centres we had visited had originally been encouraged to leave copies of their own poems with us. They too were delighted at the prospect of having their best efforts rewarded with selection for publication. The way forward. We hope to have another series of workshops, and another children’s poetry competition, in 2002. We aim to raise money for ‘our’ groups: profits from the sale of this anthology will be allocated to them. We hope you enjoy the read, and will share with us our delight in this Minding the Gap Anthology. *Valerie Bridge*

	The Minding the Gap Project Team members: Project Director: David Caddy Project Leader: Valerie Bridge Project Administrator: Debbie Ansell Assistant Project Workshop Leaders: Patricia Hannah, Janet Peters, Mary Wood Project Finance: Peter Thomas Anthology Artwork: Tom Lywood Project Support : Barbara Ellis We were sponsored by South West Arts and North Dorset District Council.
	As I was walking over a hill As I was walking over a hill I saw a man turn into a pill I saw a factory of strawberry laces I saw purple dancing pencil cases I saw a load of multi-coloured frogs I saw unfreezing living hot-dogs I saw an incy wincy wise cat I saw the Queen’s sparkly hat I saw a monster ugly and mean Then I woke up, it was just a dream. Millie Donaldson Picture by Georgia Ansell Magic A box a red tin box obviously well used quite ordinary really except – some magic marks on the top Inside cards red playing cards obviously well used quite ordinary really except – some magic marks on the corners Card games game people like to play together with family and friends using your wits include discussion, perhaps a drink banter, laughter the stuff of life quite ordinary really except – unable to see – are you excluded? Enabling a word a word in a dictionary eight letters quite ordinary really except – this word describes the magic marks Braille – enabling inclusion – magic! Pam Rogers (PHAB) A Bed A bed that is pink Floating along my street In the rain I jump in the soft mattress And dream my wonderful dream With angels Anna Hill (PHAB) I sneak open a box I sneak open a box It is not mine it is small and shiny and hard like a 10p piece I do not know what it is inside I know it goes up your nose and makes you sneeze it belongs to my Grandad Katie Millar and Claire Burden (PHAB) We Can – Can’t We? A box is large isn’t it? this one takes photos doesn’t it? It’s a box Brownie A jewel box has lots of jewellery in it – doesn’t it? I keep it in the wardrobe – don’t I? This one is full of biscuits – isn’t it? It’s a square one It’s got a lovely mixture in it – hasn’t it? I like the last one most because I can eat from it can’t I? Pauline Briggs (PHAB) The cardboard box From a very young age I liked climbing into boxes made of cardboard How safe and secure I was attached to the floor with spy holes as windows and a small chair to sit on or use as a door No tree house for us we were too poor Now I am older and having lived in a big box made of bricks, mortar, sand and cement for which I struggled sometimes to pay the rent which made it far less secure than the cardboard box but I didn’t mind because I have the same imagination and drive as I had as a child I will compromise and move to help make ends meet So I packed my stuff and in a huff made my way to a small bay fronted flat at the end of the street No leaks in the roof and missing tiles a beautiful view where you can see for miles No chilly hallways with damp on the walls an indoor letter box for when the postman calls Double glazed front and back to cut down the noise from the railway track A place that is easy to tidy when I come home from work on a Friday An open log fire to keep me warm Let’s batten down the hatches, yet another storm The garden is tended by the old lady living downstairs She charges me little for the hire of the television stand, wardrobe, dining table and spindle-back chairs And even though I look a the world from a different point of view now My innocence gone comfortable here with no one to row Echoes of laughter to smile at A cat called Boots sitting on the doormat ready for her meal I am glad after the hurricane the roof garden is still properly tiled so the birman can relax and climb into that old cardboard box I loved so much as a child. Ralph Cochrane (PHAB) Multi-coloured rainbows for my Nan I like oak because it is strong I also like feathers because they are soft but best of all my favourite is the cushion I made for my Nan my multi-coloured rainbow Stevie Cribb (PHAB) Little Fish I wish, I wish, I was a little fish, With teeth as big as nails, Small enough to run and hide, Teeth big enough not to hurt my pride, The only thing you have to wish, Is not to pick on this little fish. Jason Croasdell (PHAB) My Big Mouth. My big mouth chews and chomps. My big mouth eats what it wants, I try not to think about food at the time, But when I look in the window, My diet’s on the line, I try to resist the goodies galore, The more I eat the more I want more, But I feel guilty eating that last cream cake, It seems a shame to see that fat go to waist, Just a lick “Mmm” just a taste, I know it sounds silly trying to stay thin, When you just pigout for hours on end, Thin isn’t beautiful its just plain sad, When your tummy gurgles it drives you mad, Starving yourself for who and for what, Be at peace with yourself, And be happy with what you’ve got, And when people stop and stare as you waddle and wave, Just remind those people that, FOOD IS THEIR SLAVE!!! Jason Croasdell (PHAB)