1. Ode for Cairo
Can be listened to as a live version with music here: https://m.soundcloud.com/linda…/cairo-the-definitive-version I am coming to you, to your first stirrings in that dreaming sea Did you hear it as I hear it? This is an untrackable destination. The muezzin calls, salutations rise as cars rumble in the wide belly of this night. We cross the Nile, cross ourselves, cross into gypsy heart opened, the tears of so many whispered with longing for night to meet day, moon to meet sun in endless devotion, earth and sky making love for eternity. Cruising Cairo by that star powered river; open top convertible, a black jewel speeding through the bracelet of streets. Downtown plunged into pharonic salutes, libations, talismanic truths. Anubis watching still. The heat and the noise and the light. The heat and the noise and the light We stumble out into the ongoing night and walk along streets of shadowed images, snakes and lovers entwine to the Nile. I rise, demolished by drink and heat, demolished by love, everything passes like an hallucination. Lying in the darkness of the Cairo night I see my heart, my winged heart and feel the blood begin to descend and let it go I don't know, I do not know anything. And now the totems come; crocodile deity at my knees, Sekhmet above. Let them come, let them take me; here I am. It's pouring down upon me; the realisations the abandonment the loss the love the fight the fire the beauty of your form I want to touch you have your hands on me your lips to mine I want to start and never stop This city, this madness of streetlife and cars high rises hawkers and call to prayer big business and farmers in the mixdown Oh Cairo you are some strange musical, some script of old, curling under the surface There in your gypsy glamour and in cool girl heels, lipgloss perfect with perdita eyes with your galleries and bars, your spoken prayers in fashion boutiques, your hijabs and tight pants, your men with eyes searching for a meeting, your desire for indulgence and dance with denial, your love, your closed doors, your chaos and sanctity and here I am careering through your streets, changing my life, I felt I was changing my life What's the time it takes for something What's the time it takes to know I thought I knew I never knew angels had fear I never knew any angels to ask Did you? And did you hear the djinns in Cairo jaywalking across the stars as wide boys marked hearts for target practice Did you ever do what you wanted? So the tears fell like a rain of white flowers, flushed with the sound of emptiness is the dreadest weight another name another beginning and thousands of words and beliefs growing We are into each other. We fly, we run, we float, we eat the fruit of each other, we taste the possibilities and walk in real and imagined gardens, our souls stroll through rose temple paradises seduced before the next S P L I T ----------------------------- 2. The Cherry The morning air did not dare to breathe, the trees tried to hide and even the birds kept their songs in on that day, on that day. The man from the kiosk who always clapped his hands and shouted happily was counting anything he could count, his face turned into his work. Some people ate breakfast, watching non stop television, aching for live death. Others waited. Waited to die. And now the jazz piano plays, making you remember, what do you remember, what will you say you saw. I went to the closed shutters, looked out onto the army tanks, row upon row, as they started to move. Each with a young man atop, like a cherry to the gods, his machine gun aimed. We knew where they were going, we all knew. And we followed their path, watched and stored what we saw. We said We will not talk about this. We did not say anything. I heard the sound of tear gas canisters exploding one by one and automatic gun fire scattering opinions yet still there was silence. I saw photographs of burnt bodies sat as charred husks and blood upon blood yet still people said there was nothing to see. And now the jazz piano plays, making you remember, what do you remember, what will you say you saw. I saw the tanks return, and those young soldiers were somewhere we could not see them, faces of the underworld forever turned to the dead they had created. Some people celebrated. Others were quiet. The talking ones were taken away. And they renamed everything to make it clean and right. But the air saw, and the trees saw, and the birds saw and the wrong stayed alive. And now the jazz piano plays, making you remember, what do you remember, what will you say you saw. Lest we forget Rabaa massacre 14th August 2013 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/August_2013_Rabaa_massacre ----------------------------- 3. Che What stories did Nana Lynch read you of Galway tales and leaving lands forever that blood in your veins that knew the wrongs that needed righting that blood in your veins that sprang from a flame of red hair and a fight against famine and rule from many years before I wonder if Eva Peron understood the sneer when you wrote and asked for a jeep before setting out across that continent of inequality did she even hold that letter herself, or was it read to her as she had another manicure of invisible blood and misplaced pride When friends lay dead and Cuba was reborn how long did the moment burn as you picked up the ammunition leaving your physician's case behind knowing the wounds that would have to be opened within and without What screams of pain did you shower into the unrelenting Congo night when the news came of your mother's death disallowed to enter the hospital because you were her son the son that gazed upon a sorrowful African earth and weeped with the canopy that covered your fire Oh the songs you must have sang in Limerick as they welcomed you with sprigs and Quinlan captured your thoughts in the airport bay enroute to your last story with Fidel and disillusioned with the new power you would leave struggle to breathe in a Bolivian jungle that fight for breath being the one fight you'd had all your life and so few comrades came to help you their eyes saw a Russian supremacy which wouldn't care for your ideals Barrientos asked for your head on a spike in downtown La Paz but it was America that got your hands What Neruda did you last read before they shot you in the heart before they stole your grandmother's watch before they concreted your dismembered body under the airstrip and sent out the press release your amputated hands; shelved as a trophy in the offices of the CIA ----------------------------- 4. Kill Your Darlings Parts 1 & 2 Poetry Film: https://vimeo.com/367088816 ----------------------------- 5. Followed by the reading of Kill Your Darlings Part 3 One day you realise you don't know the exact date any more; the date it began or ended. That date which before marched in front of your head and gripped your heart tight - is lost. Just as the memories of touch are gone. Though I can remember your smile and your eyes. Thoughts of what happened come in flashes, sometimes after months of respite – only yesterday I tried to remember the last time you left the house, the final closing of the door - and I couldn't hear a sound. I closed my eyes to hear it; that angry shutting, that end; but the sound wasn't there. And then I remembered that it hadn't happened that way, with you. With you it was through the telephone only and you said you wouldn't come again, that there was nothing you needed to explain. For your heart had nothing to forget. And if that cart and bull turn over, Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover Now those men like ghosts, I watch their faces; perhaps I am the ghost and what an advantage, those ravaged faces, time held upon them, magic and flirtations no longer available in their eyes – only age and the catching up of the body that has eaten them. And behind their ghosts are the priestesses of Babylon in the temples of healing and the fish head priests, is the lapidarium, the stones standing as a providence within the realm of creation, epigraphs testify to the great importances now replaced, the musty odor of the fall of the Romans, the air of lovers now all gone, nations and empires now columns and fragments, the gates to historic cities dissembled to tombstones for their song, is the torn down theatre, citing fire hazard, some of the beauty remains but much has become defaced, ugly, built over, now one has to find charm in concrete. Some dirty charm. Like a stolen fuck behind an abandoned building. And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's gonna buy you a horse and cart Yet for him the tree was emanating light. It quivered and moved, an archaic divine bird, a super conscious being; sparkling, remembering, opening, responding, speaking, awakening. Bright, white light. So much so, that it hurt his eyes. He was looking for a way out of there, for a more comfortable place within that forest for them both to lie down. Perhaps there was a hut or covered area, for they were cold. He was stumbling in the dark, trying to give out that he had a plan, that everything was alright, that he could protect her – keep her warm – that it was just the night and nothing more, just some dark hours to wait through. And then as he trod slowly over the dead bracken and tried in vain to find a resting place there suddenly was the tree – somehow lit – alive with light. And if that horse and cart fall down, You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town. Do you remember when we experienced the tide turn, that very moment, that magical flip of the water's pull as it started to recede – just as we had begun to be oceaned yet still danced with our veils to our mistress' song. It was you and I and the great blue sea, it was you and I and an alchemical spell that formed a priestesses' alliance in our hearts. Do you remember when we felt that joy, sister, of embracing the path of the heart. Memory, is like another land with no bridge. Only water that is too strong and too wide to traverse. The absence of everything kills me.
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YOU BEAUTIES! Target of £525 reached! (Picking up a cash donation tomorrow from several anonymous donators).Thank youuuuuuu!
Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who funded this European writing project! I am keeping the campaign page open as I shall be updating it (and here) with news from Tallinn. And if anyone wants to add any additional amounts ie to cover day to day expenses when in Tallinn then let them know the page is still active :) Stop the press! NOW ONLY £60 TO RAISE after an anonymous donor has just given £20! (Read about the project in the last updated post and on the Go Fund me page itself)
All amounts help move it on and so does sharing the post. Only £60 left. Amazing! Help me get there! View and donate here: https://www.gofundme.com/f/6k652k0 Please note: some donations have been given in cash, bank payment or Paypal so are not all noted on the site ie it says I have more to get still than I do :) But the figure I give you is correct - SIXTY POUNDS and it's done Thank you! Dear All I hope you are WONDER-FULL :) and here is my first 2020 newsletter: Tallinn Updates I'm off to give a reading and workshop in Tallinn next week! and though they are hosting me for some of the nights there are no fees. Therefore I am raising money to help me with the travel and other accommodation costs that I have already had to outlay - I have spent £525 which consists of £135 on airfare, £95 on train fare, £75 on Stansted Hotel and £220 on accommodation that is not covered by the venue in Tallinn. I have made a crowdfunder to and now only have £90 to raise! I have already received £435 towards the set goal; thank you Melissa, Jude, Shannon, Alban, Suzie, Zeyad and four other anonymous donors (the page only says £305 has been raised as two people gave me their donations by other means). I approached several arts organisations but their deadlines had gone or they said there were no funds available. Please help with ANY amount as it all helps me get out of the red. Link here: https://www.gofundme.com/f/6k652k0 ANY size donation is helpful and I will also give the following:
Apart from donations I would be very grateful if you could share my link where possible (if you can think of anywhere) so that I further my reach outside of my own networks. Thank you! General News Individual Editing and Mentoring Services are available by appointment. You can read about the process here: https://www.freewriterscentre.com/editing.html So get in touch if you want to check my availability. I've just finished interim work via email on an action thriller novel with a Humanitarian NGO worker as the heroine and I'm soon to resume work with a local writer and her book (plot is under wraps for now!). It's always inspiring and an honour to work with upcoming writers. New course to come soon! – exploring the theme of distorted reflections and doppelgängers and using extracts from Murakami, Dostoyevsky and Alfred de Musset. And lastly - I've finally joined LinkedIn! :) Please do add me: https://www.linkedin.com/in/free-writers-centre-77222319a/ Bye for now, Linda Please help me raise £500 to #travel to #Tallinn for a #writingworkshop & #reading in January 2020. All amounts help! Click on the link: https://www.gofundme.com/f/6k652k0 to read the #Gofundme campaign and please share it widely with others. Many thanks! 🙏
Dear All
Here we are at the beginning of December and heading to the end of 2019 and the start of a new decade! Will we all see better in 2020? That answer is unknown but what I can tell you is that from today through to 1st January 2020 I am offering you all a whopping £25 off all shown prices on any Creative Writing course from the Online Shop! Great for you or as a gift. Go here: https://www.freewriterscentre.org/online-courses.html and after choosing your course apply this code at checkout: WordUp Enjoy writing! All best, Linda Feeling proud and happy! Today I received the first print run of the book I have been responsible for as Publishing arm for Hypatia Publications! Yay! #civilrights #womenshistory #smallpress
There will be a proper launch campaign via Hypatia Trust in due course! Today is just my personal happy place post :) Yesterday's workshop 'Death of the Idea, Death of Self' was a real success full of dynamic interaction, dedicated learning, great writing and inspiration.
I love designing new workshops and courses and, even better, implementing them to such positive effect. For many of you who may be wondering what we actually explored in the workshop - take a look at the poster within the photos for the brief but added to that after exploring situations where death of any kind/limitation/block can arise the writers began writing character study, key scene summary, pivotal points in the trajectory, key locations and sample dialogue. They produced a lot of valuable work! Due to the success of this workshop I will be offering it again elsewhere :) Dear All All the leaves are brown.. Well not all! Writing is evergreen so please read on for the upcoming delights! As well as reading here please look at the other pages on my website where you can read about the upcoming news on the Live Courses & Events tab and also take a look at the Online Courses which are available, all six of them, via the online shop which means a protected payment at the touch of a button and immediate download of your chosen course. If you're on Facebook be sure to get yourself ticking the Like on my new page there: https://www.facebook.com/freewriterscentre/ It couldn't be easier to #GetYourWriteOn! Coming up: Death of the Idea, Death of Self A one off two hour workshop at Mudita House, Penzance, Cornwall as part of The Little Death Festival. All details on the poster. Book now with a payment of £15 (and no processing fee) via: www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/death-of-the-idea-death-of-self-tickets-77622522053 or contact me for other options. Pre-booking essential. THEN WE HAVE: Dreams & Writing Course Wednesdays 6.30pm to 9pm - 6th to 27th November This intensive 4 session Creative Writing course looks at how to use the alchemy of our own dream tapestry to weave into our creative writing. We can use our dreams to work on theme, characters and archetypes, dramatic structure and plot. We also look at how Jung dealt with dreams and drama and Dreamtime totems and the dreaming of landscape. Each week we will look at a different subject whilst continuing to learn various techniques and methods through exercises and grammar play. Week 1: Focus is on The Dreamtime and You Week 2: Focus is on Dream Characters Week 3: Focus is on Living With A Dream Week 4: Focus is on a Love Letter to the Landscape Watch this short intro video https://youtu.be/LXNOygzpuQE And though we seem to be sleeping, there is an inner wakefulness that directs the dream, and that will eventually startle us back to the Truth of who we are. Rumi Where: Hypatia House, Penzance Side entrance (on Custom House Lane) of the Regent Basement, Chapel Street, Penzance TR18 4AE When: Wednesdays 6.30pm to 9pm 6th to 27th November How Do I Book? Payment £80 if you secure your place in advance (discounted - usual price £100). Via Eventbrite with no payment process fee! https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/75832305467 Or contact: Email: freewriterscentre@gmail.com or Txt: 07507550764 Writer's Mentoring - 1 hour sessions available And! I'm really chuffed that Airbnb have added my latest service Writer's Mentoring - 1 hour sessions available through the week, most weeks! to their Experiences. It's available throughout the week most weeks and if you wish to have a different time or day just ask! Otherwise book via the link: www.airbnb.co.uk/experiences/1233844?s=67&shared_item_type=2&virality_entry_point=2&sharer_id=190604581 I am offering a new service and you can read all about it in the dedicated blog: https://letterwriteruk.blogspot.com and also see the screenshot below. Get in touch with me about any emails or letters you would like help with!
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AuthorHi, I am Linda Cleary. I will be keeping you up to date with all News & Events here on the blog! Archives
March 2024
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