#SourcePark Hastings

What an amazing transformation


A week staying in a tiny cottage in Hastings Old Town took on a new significance for my scooter-obsessed son when we discovered, on our second day here, that a 20 minute walk along the promenade would take us to The Source Park – the world’s largest underground skatepark.

The Source building was originally the White Rock swimming baths, including a Turkish bath and individual baths back in Victorian times. Its popularity waxed and waned, and over the years the building was modified and became an ice rink and a cinema. Eventually it closed and was derelict for several years.

The skatepark opened in 2016, after gaining funding in 2014, and the White Rock baths underwent a massive overhaul in being fitted out as a skatepark. But what is fascinating about the building now, apart from it being a great place for all ages of scooter / BMX / skateboarder…

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Listening to Bach’s Passion at the Proms by Carolyn O’Connell

Thanks to Ruben

I am not a silent poet

Sung in German, his language
one I slightly know
the anger of the mob, a people led
by men who feared loss of power
to reject an innocent man
who’d helped and taught love.

Knowledge of another’s language
culture and beliefs: brings understanding
no matter what his colour, status
or the culture, country where he flies from
or still strives to live.

If all men could learn from others
the stranger on your road
then no leader would have power
to bring men to hate or war.

There would be no enemy
no one to despise
we’d understand each other
no matter what the dress or voice
or where we live or worship
or even what we eat.

Then we’d be each other’s brothers
and sisters, forever joined in harmony.

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Inferno of the Poor by Carolyn O’Connell

I am not a silent poet

I remember when the space was fenced, a home for rats
a steel fenced scar cutting through the “saved” houses
and above the concrete bulk of the new urban motorway.

They built towers on the space replacing the erased homes
by sky streets, homes for the poor, without gardens
for children to play, adults relax. Some left in fear for the future.

Slowly the area changed, the skilled artisans, labouring builders
migrated home or died, the “saved” houses became “desirable”
and celebrities, bankers, politicians moved in to homes built
a century ago for aspiring families or newlyweds.

It became “Notting Hill” though the hill was far away!

Today the News has resurrected Ladbroke Grove
for the poor have been killed in Grenfiell Tower
and they can’t call this carnage “Notting Hill”!!

Media  tries to convey the horror, tears of the displaced
survivors of the inferno, searching for family lost in…

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Camden Poetry Friday 1st September 2017

Camden and Lumen Poetry

Patron Andrew Motion

Ruth O’Callaghan presents: Paul Blake, Jacqueline Gabbitas and Anna Robisnson.

Poets from the floor are very welcome. Please bring a copy of the poem you read if you wish to be considered for the new anthology.

Trinity United Reform Church, 1 Buck Street, Camden Town (nearest tube is Camden Town – a one or two minute walk)

Entrance £5 (£4 concessions). Wine will be available before start and during the interval.

All money raised goes to help fund cold weather shelters for the homeless.

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FREE VERSE: The Poetry Book Fair

FREE VERSE: The Poetry Book Fair

Burning Eye Books

Burning Eye is back at the Free Verse: Poetry Book Fair at Conway Hall in London on 30th September!

Catch us amongst loads of great presses and printers all dedicated to poetry from 11 – 5pm in the main hall. Jenn will also be taking part in a ‘meet the editors’ panel at 11am so head to that if you’re looking for tips on editing, or submitting.

Come and say hi!

More info on what’s on

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The Timelessness of Stone


Thanks to the poets whose poems piled in after last month’s KPAI — keep them coming.  This has enabled me to produce another instalment in the middle of a rushed and busy month — what’s new, poets? And you relax and question, draw pebbles, write sestinas, make collages, wonder about the triumph of evil (Moriarty), and concentrate on the timelessness of stone. Thanks to Morelle Smith, Maggie Mackay, Stephen Mead, David Whippman and Joan Lennon.

To contribute, send previously published poems (published at least three years ago) to which you hold the copyright, by email to sally evans 35 at gmail dot com.

You may send your own images, otherwise I will find suitable copyright-free illustrations, which I quite enjoy doing.  Sometimes it is a challenge. Morelle Smith and Joan Lennon sent their own illustrations for their poems, as well as the collages from Stephen Mead.

I should add that…

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Tainted with Love by Ananya S Guha

I am not a silent poet

Whither the dead
ha’ penny thoughts
the tortoise and the hare
run, in this impending fun
Brown soldiers black
black, brown
their shirts are shrivelled
into guns they hold
Terrorists come and go
the common man might
know, who the soldier
who the terrorist
the police arrive to gun
it is mayhem
and the gaping wound
that tells all the sorrow.
At crack of dawn
a son is born
father murdered
mother prepares
three coffins
for father, son and
I say my prayers quietly
what do soldiers want?
where is the brave war
and what are suicide squads?
the rose buds faint in red
tulips open into gaping wound
my praying beads are tainted
with love.

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