Thursday 31 July 2008

Skylight...

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THERE’S so much I’m going to miss about Sheffield. From an early age, I’ve realised that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone – so make the most of it. I've always try to do just that, but it's nice to reminisce…


...In this reflective frame of mind, I’d like to thank Justine and the Words Aloud team, and their community of artists and writers especially Jude for all their support...

http://wordsaloud.org/
http://judecalverttoulmin.blogspot.com/


...Words Aloud run a great night in an awesome venue, and I'll really miss them. I’ve loved having the chance to read my work on stage in front of an amicable audience in the cosy Lescar pub. I’ve loved the support of my adorable friends, and the talented poets and thespians who have cheered me on…


...I hope to continue to read in the future. Here’s a copy of my parting reading, and ends my fleeting moments of fame in the Steel City

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SKYLIGHT

I’ll miss my windswept attic up in the clouds, in a house on the hill overlooking sprawling Sheffield



Homes tumble down the slope to the church tower, then a shallow drop to the landscape below. A panorama of cranes, multi-story glass towers, defunct industrial chimneys, wasteland, and 1960s prefabs…


The Tinsley cooling towers standing like nuclear reactors and the mighty M1 pencils a border on the brooding horizon…



I’ll miss jumping out of bed, pulling back the blind and letting the light flood in. Of feeling the fresh air on my face and the wind in my hair, and loving life – the life of the dreamer up in the attic...



I’ll miss the rain thundering down in sheets, mocking corrugated iron huts in South East Asia, awash with hail and spinning cyclones…


Or the October wind howling round the chimney pots like witches on broomsticks, and their cats with glassy green eyes…



I’ll miss lying on my back in winter, upside down watching snow flakes rushing towards the cold pane from the blanket white sky…




I’ll miss watching the snow pack melt like a retreating glacier as the pallid January sun radiates its tepid glow. The snow shrinking to sugary crystals, then draining in a web of braided rivers…


I’ll miss the warm summer twilight. The sunset in the west, a golden peach haze, turning salmon as each second slides by. The scudding cumulus clouds ripening to blueberry, and down below the darkening landscape is lit up by thousands of street lamps…




I’ll miss those same street lamps as I stumble up the spiral staircase at 7am as the dawn advances on the sleeping city, and ghostly party people return to their graves. The stars fade and Venus orbits…





I’ll miss those drab days of deadening northern drizzle, when my attic is shrouded in cloud like a castle on a misty mountain, and I’d rather just snuggle under the covers of my four poster bed…


I’ll miss spinning tunes, getting ready to go out, and late nights struggling to meet deadlines typing deliriously on a laptop that glows like iron in a steelworks…


Yes, I’m going to miss my windswept attic up in the clouds, in a house on the hill overlooking sprawling Sheffield


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