The Poetry Exchange

In this episode, Jessica talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'From Blossoms' by Li-Young Lee.​Jessica joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges.Jessica works as an Audio Producer with Listening Books, an audiobook lending charity for those that find their illness, mental health, physical or learning disability affects their ability to read the printed word or hold a book.Jessica is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.The 'gift' reading of 'From Blossoms' is by Michael Shaeffer.*****From Blossoms by Li-Young LeeFrom blossoms comesthis brown paper bag of peacheswe bought from the boyat the bend in the road where we turned toward signs painted Peaches.From laden boughs, from hands,from sweet fellowship in the bins,comes nectar at the roadside, succulentpeaches we devour, dusty skin and all,comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.O, to take what we love inside,to carry within us an orchard, to eatnot only the skin, but the shade,not only the sugar, but the days, to holdthe fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach.There are days we liveas if death were nowherein the background; from joyto joy to joy, from wing to wing,from blossom to blossom toimpossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.Li-Young Lee, “From Blossoms” from Rose. Copyright © 1986 by Li-Young Lee. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions Ltd. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this special, feature-length episode, pioneering broadcaster, writer and host of On Being, Krista Tippett talks about the poem that has been a friend to her: ‘Good Lord The Light’ by Christian Wiman.Krista Tippett has created a singular space for reflection and conversation in American and global public life. She founded and leads the On Being Project — a groundbreaking media and public life initiative pursuing “deep thinking and moral imagination, social courage and joy to renew inner life, outer life, and life together.” As the creator and host of the Peabody Award-winning On Being radio show, heard on over 400 public radio stations across the US, Tippett takes up the great animating questions of human life: What does it mean to be human, how we do want to live, and who will we be to each other?In 2014, President Obama awarded Krista the National Humanities Medal at the White House for “thoughtfully delving into the mysteries of human existence. On the air and in print, Ms. Tippett avoids easy answers, embracing complexity and inviting people of every background to join her conversation about faith, ethics, and moral wisdom.”Krista is also the author of three books at the intersection of spiritual inquiry, social healing, science, and the arts: Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living; Einstein’s God: Conversations about Science and the Human Spirit and Speaking of Faith, a memoir of religion in our time.Krista is in conversation with The Poetry Exchange hosts Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.‘Good Lord The Light’ can be found in poet Christian Wiman’s latest collection – ‘Survival is a Style’, from Farrar, Straus and Geroux.You can listen to Krista’s extraordinary range of life-expanding conversations through the On Being podcast – which can be found wherever you get your podcasts and at www.onbeing.org. The 'gift' reading of 'Good Lord The Light' is by Michael Shaeffer.*********GOOD LORD THE LIGHTby Christian WimanGood morning misery,goodbye belief,good Lord the lightcutting across the lakeso long goneto ice —There is an under, always,through which things still move, breathe,and have their being,quick coals and crimsonsno one need seeto see.Good night knowledge,goodbye beyond,good God the winterone must wanderone’s own soulto be.From 'Survival is a Style' - Farrar, Straus and Giroux (February 2020) Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Lewi talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'The Horses' by Ted Hughes.​Lewi joined The Poetry Exchange online as part of Manchester Literature Festival 2020. Lewi is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.The 'gift' reading of 'The Horses' is by Fiona Bennett.*****The Horses By Ted HughesI climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark.Evil air, a frost-making stillness,Not a leaf, not a bird-A world cast in frost. I came out above the woodWhere my breath left tortuous statues in the iron light.But the valleys were draining the darknessTill the moorline blackening dregs of the brightening greyHalved the sky ahead. And I saw the horses:Huge in the dense grey ten togetherMegalith-still. They breathed, making no move,With draped manes and tilted hind-hooves,Making no sound.I passed: not one snorted or jerked its head.Grey silent fragmentsOf a grey still world.I listened in emptiness on the moor-ridge.The curlews tear turned its edge on the silence.Slowly detail leafed from the darkness. Then the sunOrange, red, red eruptedSilently, and splitting to its core tore and flung cloud,Shook the gulf open, showed blue,And the big planets hangingI turnedStumbling in a fever of a dream, down towardsThe dark woods, from the kindling tops,And came the horses.There, still they stood,But now steaming, and glistening under the flow of light,Their draped stone manes, their tilted hind-hoovesStirring under a thaw while all around themThe frost showed its fires. But still they made no sound.Not one snorted or stamped,Their hung heads patient as the horizons,High over valleys, in the red levelling raysIn din of the crowded streets, going among the years, the faces,May I still meet my memory in so lonely a placeBetween the streams and the red clouds, hearing curlews,Hearing the horizons endure.New Selected Poems by Ted Hughes. Faber & Faber; Main edition (6 Mar. 1995) Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Fehmida talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Still I Rise' by Maya Angelou.​Fehmida joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our Lockdown Exchanges, as part of Manchester Literature Festival 2020.You can also find out more about our wonderful guest, Fehmida, and the work she pioneers for women and those who are under-represented in publishing here:www.fehmidamaster.comwww.masterhousepublishing.comFehmida is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.*****You may write me down in historyWith your bitter, twisted lies,You may trod me in the very dirtBut still, like dust, I'll rise.Does my sassiness upset you?Why are you beset with gloom?’Cause I walk like I've got oil wellsPumping in my living room.Just like moons and like suns,With the certainty of tides,Just like hopes springing high,Still I'll rise.Did you want to see me broken?Bowed head and lowered eyes?Shoulders falling down like teardrops,Weakened by my soulful cries?Does my haughtiness offend you?Don't you take it awful hard’Cause I laugh like I've got gold minesDiggin’ in my own backyard.You may shoot me with your words,You may cut me with your eyes,You may kill me with your hatefulness,But still, like air, I’ll rise.Does my sexiness upset you?Does it come as a surpriseThat I dance like I've got diamondsAt the meeting of my thighs?Out of the huts of history’s shameI riseUp from a past that’s rooted in painI riseI'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.Leaving behind nights of terror and fearI riseInto a daybreak that’s wondrously clearI riseBringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,I am the dream and the hope of the slave.I riseI riseI rise.Maya Angelou, "Still I Rise" from And Still I Rise: A Book of Poems. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House, an imprint and division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Tom talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Aubade' by Philip Larkin.Tom visited The Poetry Exchange in February 2020 for what turned out to be our last live event of the year before the first Covid-19 lockdown. He joined us at beautiful Manchester Central Library and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Al Snell.The 'gift' reading of 'Aubade' is by Al Snell. *****I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.  Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.  In time the curtain-edges will grow light.  Till then I see what’s really always there:  Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,  Making all thought impossible but how  And where and when I shall myself die.  Arid interrogation: yet the dreadOf dying, and being dead,Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse  —The good not done, the love not given, time  Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because  An only life can take so long to climbClear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;  But at the total emptiness for ever,The sure extinction that we travel toAnd shall be lost in always. Not to be here,  Not to be anywhere,And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.This is a special way of being afraidNo trick dispels. Religion used to try,That vast moth-eaten musical brocadeCreated to pretend we never die,And specious stuff that says No rational being Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeingThat this is what we fear—no sight, no sound,  No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,  Nothing to love or link with,The anaesthetic from which none come round.And so it stays just on the edge of vision,  A small unfocused blur, a standing chill  That slows each impulse down to indecision.  Most things may never happen: this one will,  And realisation of it rages outIn furnace-fear when we are caught without  People or drink. Courage is no good:It means not scaring others. Being brave  Lets no one off the grave.Death is no different whined at than withstood.Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.  It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,  Have always known, know that we can’t escape,  Yet can’t accept. One side will have to go.Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring  In locked-up offices, and all the uncaringIntricate rented world begins to rouse.The sky is white as clay, with no sun.Work has to be done.Postmen like doctors go from house to house.Philip Larkin, "Aubade" from Collected Poems. Copyright © Estate of Philip Larkin. Reprinted by permission of Faber and Faber, Ltd. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Jenny talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to her – 'Mushrooms' by Sylvia Plath.Jenny joined The Poetry Exchange online and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and John Prebble.Fiona reads the gift reading of 'Mushrooms'.*****Mushroomsby Sylvia Plath Overnight, veryWhitely, discreetly,Very quietlyOur toes, our nosesTake hold on the loam,Acquire the air.Nobody sees us,Stops us, betrays us;The small grains make room.Soft fists insist onHeaving the needles,The leafy bedding,Even the paving.Our hammers, our rams,Earless and eyeless,Perfectly voiceless,Widen the crannies,Shoulder through holes. WeDiet on water,On crumbs of shadow,Bland-mannered, askingLittle or nothing.So many of us!So many of us!We are shelves, we areTables, we are meek,We are edible,Nudgers and shoversIn spite of ourselves.Our kind multiplies:We shall by morningInherit the earth.Our foot’s in the door.From Collected Poems (1981) by Sylvia Plath, published by Faber and Faber Ltd. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, poet, theologian and podcast host Pádraig Ó Tuama talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'Cuimhne An Uisce' / 'A Recovered Memory of Water' by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, translated by Paul Muldoon.Pádraig Ó Tuama is a poet and theologian from Ireland whose poetry and prose has been published widely across Ireland, the US and the UK. He presents Poetry Unbound with On Being, a hugely successful podcast where he explores a single poem. Short and unhurried; contemplative and energizing, this podcast had more than a million downloads of its first season.www.padraigotuama.comonbeing.org/series/poetry-unbound​Pádraig joined The Poetry Exchange online and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett and Michael Shaeffer.​Many thanks to Gallery Press for granting us permission to share the poem in this capacity. Do visit them for more inspiration here:www.gallerypress.comFiona reads the gift reading of 'A Recovered Memory of Water'.*****Cuimhne An Uisce / A Recovered Memory of Water by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, translated by Paul MuldoonSometimes when the mermaid’s daughteris in the bathroomcleaning her teeth with a thick brushand baking sodashe has the sense the room is fillingwith water.It starts at her feet and anklesand slides further and further upover her thighs and hips and waist.In no timeit’s up to her oxters.She bends down into it to pick uphandtowels and washcloths and all such thingsas are sodden with it.They all look like seaweed—like those long strands of kelp that used to be called‘mermaid-hair’ or ‘foxtail.’Just as suddenly the water recedesand in no timethe room’s completely dry again.A terrible sense of stressis part and parcel of these emotions.At the end of the day she has nothing elseto compare it to.She doesn’t have the vocabulary for any of it.At her weekly therapy sessionshe has more than enough to be going on withjust to describe this strange phenomenonand to express it properlyto the psychiatrist.She doesn’t have the terminologyor any of the points of referenceor any word at all that would give the slightest suggestionas to what water might be.‘A transparent liquid,’ she says, doing as best she can.‘Right,’ says the therapist, ‘keep going.’He coaxes and cajoles her towards word-making.She has another run at it.‘A thin flow,’ she calls it,casting about gingerly in the midst of the words.‘A shiny film. Dripping stuff. Something wet.’From 'The Fifty Minute Mermaid', Gallery Press, 2007. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Charlie talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to him – 'A Short Story of Falling' by Alice Oswald.​Charlie joined The Poetry Exchange online, via video call, for one of our 'Lockdown Exchanges' and is in conversation with Poetry Exchange team members, Fiona Bennett Alistair Snell.​Many thanks to Alice Oswald and United Agents for granting us permission to share the poem in this capacity. Find out more about Alice and her work here: www.unitedagents.co.uk/alice-oswaldAl reads the gift reading of 'A Short Story of Falling'.*****A Short Story of Falling It is the story of the falling rainto turn into a leaf and fall againit is the secret of a summer showerto steal the light and hide it in a flowerand every flower a tiny tributarythat from the ground flows green and momentaryis one of water's wishes and this talehangs in a seed-head smaller than my thumbnailif only I a passerby could passas clear as water through a plume of grassto find the sunlight hidden at the tipturning to seed a kind of lifting rain dripthen I might know like water how to balancethe weight of hope against the light of patiencewater which is so raw so earthy-strongand lurks in cast-iron tanks and leaks alongdrawn under gravity towards my tongueto cool and fill the pipe-work of this songwhich is the story of the falling rainthat rises to the light and falls againReprinted by permission of Alice Oswald and United AgentsSource: Falling Awake (W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2016) Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, world-renowned actor, Brian Cox CBE talks with us about two poems that have been friends to him – 'Ae Fond Kiss' by Robert Burns and 'I am' by John Clare.Brian joined The Poetry Exchange online, from his home, over the course of lockdown in 2020. He is a Scottish actor who works in film, television and theatre, and as a multiple award-winner, has gained huge respect in the industry for the many captivating roles he has undertaken. He us perhaps most recently known for starring in HBO's hugely popular and critically acclaimed television series, 'Succession'.Michael reads the gift reading of 'I Am'.*****Ae Fond Kissby Robert BurnsAe fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, and then forever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me; Dark despair around benights me.I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her; Love but her, and love forever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met—or never parted— We had ne'er been broken-hearted.Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace. enjoyment, love, and pleasure! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, forever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!*****I Amby John ClareI am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossedInto the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems; Even the dearest that I loved the best Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubling and untroubled where I lie The grass below—above the vaulted sky. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Forward Prize-winning poet Vahni Capildeo talks with us about the poem that has been a friend to them – 'Spring and Fall' by Gerard Manley Hopkins.Vahni joined The Poetry Exchange online, from their family home in Trinidad, as part of City of Literature - a week of conversations, reflections and connections presented by the National Centre for Writing and Norfolk & Norwich Festival.​www.nnfestival.org.ukwww.nationalcentreforwriting.org.ukVahni Capildeo is a Trinidadian Scottish writer inspired by other voices, ranging from live Caribbean connexions and an Indian diaspora background to the landscapes where Capildeo travels and lives. Their poetry includes Measures of Expatriation, awarded the Forward Prize for Best Collection in 2016, and Venus as a Bear, published in 2018. You can discover more about and purchase Vahni Capildeo's work at the Carcanet website (Vahni's publisher).Michael Shaeffer reads the gift reading of Spring and Fall.You will also hear Fiona mention some new publications by members of our creative team:Andrea Witzke Slot's 'The Ministry of Flowers' is published by Valley Press.Victoria Field's 'A Speech of Birds' is published by Francis Boutle.Sarah Salway's 'Let's Dance' is published by Coast to Coast, Spring 2021 and 'Not Sorry', a collection of flash fiction, is published by Valley Press Spring/Summer 2021. *********Spring and Fallby Gerard Manley Hopkinsto a young childMárgarét, áre you gríevingOver Goldengrove unleaving?Leáves like the things of man, youWith your fresh thoughts care for, can you?Ah! ás the heart grows olderIt will come to such sights colderBy and by, nor spare a sighThough worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;And yet you wíll weep and know why.Now no matter, child, the name:Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressedWhat heart heard of, ghost guessed:It ís the blight man was born for,It is Margaret you mourn for. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.