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OCTOBER FEATURED POET

Welcome to the 10th Wolf Twin Review!


Introducing: Nimue Brown . . . Druid, author, poet, bard, and fantastical imaginarian.


Portrait by: Tré

All Souls’ Night

Time, laid down in soil

Year upon year remembered

In dirt and buried relics.

We walk the contours of history

Stand on the enormity of millennia.

 

The dead are with us, all of them

Forever beneath us, within us

Layer upon layer of story,

Each life transformed to another.

 

Feast with the dead, feed upon them

Make them part of us, as we in turn

Will be eaten by the future.

 

There is no veil, only soil between us

And the bones we might excavate.

 

Around us the past remains present.


No Longer a Monster

Sometimes I gnaw on the bones of my old life

Late in the night, howling at the moon,

Listening for owl calls that come in reply.

Outside my window, large bats are flitting

Not all who dwell in darkness are wrong

Some of us are moths, or need a diet of moths

Some of us are night flowering plants, scented

Moth luring and really quite harmless.

Howling and eating my own bones,

I was never any threat to anyone else.

 

My heart brims with moth gratitude, bat thankful,

Glad of owls, of the pitch black depths unknown

And the glorious yellow of evening primrose.

 

There is no shame in tears shed by moonlight.

I am ready to put down these gnawed bones

And sing flesh back onto my famished frame.

I am ready to be soft, flower petals, owl feathers.

 

Of course I will not grow back conventionally,

But this flesh is expressive, alive and I know

How to be generous with it, feeling and giving.

No more bone chewing, I will seek ripeness

In sweet fruit, in the living joyfulness of a body

That finally knows how to be in the world.


Samhain Song

Set a place at the table

With food and drink aplenty

An extra cup, an extra plate

For the dead but not forgotten.

 

The night has come for walking as the dead they move among us

Come through the shroud of passing years to stand with us awhile.

There’s lights upon the window ledge to welcome and to guide them

A brief to remember those who’ve passed along the way.

 

Rising from the shadows, a friend who drowned a year before

And moving to the window ledge, my grandfather’s tall shade.

I see the smoke that circled him, I hear his footsteps speak his name.

Hail to you upon this night, for a time you are retuned.

 

We leave the room in whispers, retreat up to a darkened bed

A light shines in our kitchen to guide the feasting of our dead.

This night they return to see people and places dear and dreamed

To gather and to sit awhile in the land of the quick and the living.

 

When I pass from amongst you, I pledge to you I will return

I’ll stand with you at Samhain, I’ll watch you live and love and learn.

Keep my place beside the fire, I will come to sit again,

Keep my memory in your hearts and I will not forsake you.

 

So light up your lanterns bright and set your pumpkins glowing

To ward away the darkest hours and guide your loved ones home.

I will return to you as long as seasons keep on turning.

All Hallows Eve will call me, and I will rise again.

 

Set a place at the table

With food and drink aplenty

An extra cup, an extra plate

For the dead but not forgotten.


When I Dwelled in Woodland

Small my antlers, swift my hoofs

Tangled summer flowers in unkempt hair

Birdsong shimmering on my lips

Moss rolling, bark chewing exuberance

Raucous barking in the moonlight

With voice of doe or vixen

Rough, uncanny music

Happy to leave, flitting unapologetic

Beyond the reach of responsibilities

And other people’s rules.

When I had antlers and belonged

Only to the leafy beech woods

Mine the bounty of windflower and bluebell

Crows my friends and owls too

Dawn and twilight my domain

In the spell of blackbird melodies

No need to explain myself

Living in wonder and beauty

A secret wanderer

At the edges of the world.



Featured Poet Interview:


1. How would you describe your perfect writing situation?


I'm very much a comfy chair sort of person. Cats, I find are best to have nearby, as ones on laps tending to get their bottoms onto notebooks or writing tech. They tend to object to being used as writing desks. I like my space fairly quiet and I like a good window I can gaze out of while thinking. Currently I have a lot of trees to look at, which definitely helps.


2. What is the best advice a fellow writer has given you?


On the poetry side it was an English teacher (he was a poet as well) who told me that it's ok to bleed on the page, but then you have to mop it up and make it into something. Otherwise it's all been very project specific - my partner Keith has a long history of getting in to read things that I've been unsure about or stuck with and giving me really helpful feedback. I'm glad of the authors who talk about the realities of the industry, too, and the sanity and realism that injects day to day. 


3. In your most recent blog post you expand the definition of grace to include our own movements and our interplay with nature. As creators, how do you think we can tap into those resources in our natural surroundings to imbue our creations with that grace?


It's not something I can do in an especially conscious and deliberate way. However, getting outdoors and feeling connected to the land and involved with the seasons definitely impacts on my writing. I am a better writer when I do that, the inspiration flows more readily. I think being properly rooted in the world stops me from being either too maudlin or too self-indulgent as well.


When I did my first bardic initiation, I pledged to use my creativity for the good of people and planet. Actively seeking connection helps keep me able to do that. The more I experience enchantment, the more able I am to conjure that up for others.


4. When inspired, do you start writing immediately or let it percolate?


Usually I let it percolate. Outside of poetry classes, I'd normally let ideas wash around for a day or two, fermenting a little. With other kinds of writing, I have to be somewhat structured - juggling blog posts, a non-fic book and a novel in progress means I can't just wait for the magic to happen. I have to be deliberate about fermenting those ideas, and allocate time to getting the words down. But, I've been doing this for a long time and tend to find that inspiration comes when I seek it.


5. You describe returning to your native Gloucestershire in glowing terms. What are some ways people—who find themselves in fish out of water scenarios—can learn to live with more harmony and connection in environments they might not feel innately at home in?


I don't know! I never entirely got the hang of it. I'm happy visiting places and exploring, but when I was away from my landscape I spent that decade dreaming about it, and never the place I had moved to. It's part of me. I tried all the things - walked a lot, learned the landscape, what little local folklore there was, sought history around me - and still failed to root. I think I'm just not the sort of tree that can be dug up and put somewhere else.


6. What inspires you the most?


Lots of things inspire me in a day-to-day sort of way. However, in terms of what keeps me moving, its the possibility of making a difference - by uplifting or inspiring someone else, by comforting or informing or whatever else my words can do. I've wanted to write since childhood and that desire came from a strong sense that stories make a difference. The stories we tell, the stories we internalise, and the stories we are exposed to have a huge influence on us.


7. How important is imagination to your process?


It's always an important part of the mix. For me it's also really important to be plausible and relevant. I'm not into pure escapism, I want to create things that have deeper resonance and more to offer. I write a fair amount of non-fiction, where imagination is vital for making the content readable and engaging. I think when you get it right, marvellous and fantastical tales can do a better job of carrying ideas than more mundane ones. There's an overlap with poetry here - it's the way poems can come at things from unusual angles and with unexpected language that gets the ideas in under the radar. You can get hefty truths into a poem in ways people will take onboard where they might be a lot more resistant if you came at the same issue more directly.


8. When did you realize you weren't simply a writer, but also a bard?


It was a deliberate choice quite some years ago at Stonehenge - bardic initiations were offered and I stepped forward. For me it's a dedication, and a choice to move through the world in particular ways. I don't tend to go round telling people I'm a bard because that's way too pretentious in most contexts, but I am very much on the bard path and committed to working in that particular way. It was one of those things that when I found it and understood it, I recognised as something I'd always been searching for.


9. Do you find expressing yourself through poetry to be healing, or emotionally beneficial?


Definitely, and not just for myself. I'm still fond of bleeding on the page when I need to. Poetry can be an amazing tool for healing others - again it's that issue of being able to bring things to people that they just couldn't hear in a more direct way. Poetry can inspire and re-enchant, and that can often be a healing experience for the reader as well. Seeing yourself, or your experience reflected back in a poem can be powerful, having had the honour of getting to do that for a community group back in the summer. This is all territory I'm hoping to explore further as I go along. 


10. If you were a tree, which would you be?


A beech, definitely. They are the dominant tree on the Cotswold edge, and very lovely too. I'm also very much inspired by the resilience and generosity of willow trees. I've yet to meet a tree species I didn't like and could enthuse at great length about trees I have known. 

 


To Nimue:


Thank you so much for being our Featured Poet!


Congratulations on your new Halloween pre-order book (1 of 3: The Motherwell Trilogy) with Steven Savile: The Slowly Dying House


Welcome to the Wolf Pack!


Dearest Readers:


Greetings, fellow poetry lovers. Check back next month, or subscribe to our blog to see the moonstruck poets we have lined up. Owwwoooooo!



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