Hi out there...
My name is Heather Taylor and I am a Canadian poet based in London,
England. I just joined this group and thought I'd give greetings. I
have a website (currently in development at www.heathertaylor.co.uk)
that you can see a little bit more about me, etc. For those of you in
the London area, I am having a book launch on October 3rd. The details
are below. Here's a new piece I have been working on as well - look
forward to all the discussion!
Cheers,
Heather
BOOK LAUNCH:
Heather Taylor will be reading out of her new collection Horizon & Back
published by Tall-Lighthouse Press. Special guests include: Todd Swift,
Aoife Mannix, Nii Parkes, Nathan Penlington, Pierre Ringwald and Jazz
singer, Tricity Vogue. Hosted by Baden Prince Jr. with sweet sounds by
DJ Dave.
Date: Monday, October 3rd
Time: 7:30 doors for an 8 pm start
Venue: Sols Arms
65, Hampstead Rd, London, NW1 2PN
Cost: Free
Nearest tube: Euston Square or Warren Street stations
For more information or to order a book: www.tall-lighthouse.co.uk
For information on the poet and further readings:
www.heathertaylor.co.uk
'Heather Taylor maps an image-rich world with a voice that is fresh,
tough, & hard to ignore. Taylor writes passionate, hard-won poems,
using words honed with razor wire to reveal the bright ice & bone
beneath things. This is strong, brazen writing that lives on and off
the page. Above all, it is her youthful desire to break new ground & say
what needs saying that will impress.' Todd Swift
POEM:
Prairie Winters
In the hours between home time and sunset,
my sister and me would take to fields
snowfall piled to our waists
ready for the construction of packed forts
and horded snowballs for imaginary intruder targets.
As the stars found way to sprinkle the sky,
Our front porch light would flicker once, then twice
before becoming a strobe light
discoing through new cast night.
We'd make excuses, noses dripping icicles on new carpet,
Cheeks a scarlet flush one step from frostbite,
Stringed mittens turned ice blocks dangling
from last year's pink snowsuit with a rip in the knee.
Those excuses - we didn't see the light flash, mom,
notice dark descending until a few minutes ago
never seemed to penetrate the iron clad curfew rules;
Mums don't understand the need to have time with the universe
and how without us, those invisible intruders would have got in.
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