Collected Threads Poetry Book

Collected Threads New Poetry inspired by Derby’s Museums

Derby Museums and Art Gallery

A

s individuals we hoard old letters, photos or trinkets to tell the story of past love affairs, jobs or holidays. Cities, too, stow away objects and artefacts that tell the story of a past life. Derby has its own lovingly guarded collection of objects which speak of former industries, of city fathers or historic events.

It made perfect sense, then, to bring a group of poets together and let them loose on some of the historic objects held by Derby City Museums. Poets and writers revisit their own histories all the time, mining their childhood for strong images or using a single object to symbolise something bigger. With help from Derby City Museums’ Jane Hardstaff, we looked at silk and ceramic objects drawn from Derby’s own heritage. We handled silk from the Queen’s wedding dress, old silk stockings and handkerchiefs light as air; prehistoric pot sherds and delicate Crown Derby teacups.

Then, of course, we allowed ourselves to veer off on interesting tangents.

The resulting work was a mixture of the personal and the descriptive, the historic and the hysterical. We explored the associations of silk ties or silken lingerie, old teapots and china ornaments. As always, when you start to create, the results can take you to unexpected places – but we enjoyed the journey that started in a back room of Pickford’s House Museum, and we hope you will too.

Jo Bell, National Poetry Day Coordinator

Silk Mill

Derby Museum

Set on the banks of the Derwent, Industrial heritage archive Lasting bricks and mortar.

Keeping knowledge we have lost, Memories we recall Initiating us into our past.

Looms and frames weave together Layer on layer of history.

The museum door invites me Like opening the lid Of a box full of treats Stone Sarcophagus Enveloped Underground Buried Memory.

Funny smell.

Revealing the treasure At the end of the rainbow I could spend a life time here.

Museum Mummies, Unearthed Secrets.

Excavations, Unexpected Memories.

Silk Dreaming The old tatty scarf was used as a duster and lay in the cupboard.

Back to when it was a cocoon, safe in the dark, but trapped inside and boiled.

It didn’t like to be this way, it shut its eyes and dreamed back.

It didn’t like to be this way, it shut its eyes and dreamed back.

Back to when it was new and fresh washed and ironed and cared for, shut in a drawer.

Back to when it was a moth free to flutter in the sunshine.

It didn’t like to be this way, it shut its eyes and dreamed back.

Back to when it was fluffy and thin coiled in a silken skein, in a dusty, noisy mill, being stretched and put in a sack.

It didn’t like to be this way, it shut its eyes and dreamed back.

Nicki, Derek, Vicky, Paddy, Pat, Dennis, Jo, River, Jane and Kat – Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service. (after Fishbones Dreaming by Matthew Sweeney)

Gloves

The Magic Of Life

Butter-soft chamois, a single twin, For slender hands and arms.

The pattern is so even, Ingenious.

Ecru Memories, Mother of pearl buttons Displayed in the haberdashery at Tutbury With the bow windows.

Soft but rough, like candyfloss.

Drying sand on the beach.

A magic bean, Jack and the beanstalk.

Tickles my nose, like a musty damp sail.

Tastes like cardboard with air bubbles.

A golf ball bouncing on hard concrete.

Says ‘Help! Let me out.’

Nicki Lewis, Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service, inspired by a silk cocoon.

The Derwent Writers Group

What the world needs now is fluff, silk fluff Feels fluffy, gentle, soft, slick, smooth, spongy, silky, warm, wiggly, hairy Looks white, fluffy, slender, fibrous, like worms, nests, hair, wigs, bread bun (knotted), rope, Feels like fluff, curtains, nothing and everything, blankets, dust Tastes like marshmallows, clouds, candyfloss, spaghetti Sounds like pillows rustling, hamsters in their beds, cats clawing the furniture Says ‘Be Fluffy.’

Jo Hall, Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service.

Julia’s clothes

Little Treasure

When Julia wore her silken dress Herrick praised her as she moved, but did the poet ever guess what helped create the sight he loved?

Water colour paper Mint imperial Like another world Small dry peanuts Little bells ‘Treat me with care!’

He may have known that silkworms fed on leaves of mulberry ‘til they’re grown, and spin the miles of finest thread all needed for his Julia’s gown.

But did he know, and did he care that death befell the helpless slaves; that shimmering beauty only came with suffering to bedeck his love?

But Julia, freed of all her clothes could hold the poet in her thrall, so maybe many fragile moths lived out their lifespan after all…

Barbara Moyes (After reading Upon Julia’s Clothes

by Robert Herrick, 1648)

Kat, Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service, inspired by a silk cocoon

Silk Stockings Silk stockings became a wartime currency, Worth more than money, even.

Black marketers offered then for petrol From friendly GI’s, who rated them Above all, certain to impress The ladies, offering endless benefits.

To have their legs clad in exotic stuff, Forget the Camels, the Lucky Strikes, chewing gum, The lure of material, so smooth, Light as gossamer, fairy wings, a spiders skein, to become another Betty Grable, to be envied by friends, Straight of seam, curve of calf, trim of ankle, Forget that coloured stain applied by sponge, This was real, this was heaven, A sensual swish as you walked, In the morning, you’d perhaps Still have them on.

John Hyde

Elite Seamfree Stockings Voile curtains snakes smells dusty sawdust whisper ‘Wear me!’

Vicki Furber, Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service.

‘Bear Brand’ Silk and Rayon Mix Stocking, C1930 Feels soft and cool Looks expensive Smells old Tastes of cool ice-cream Sounds soft like a bean-bag Says ‘Look after me’ Denis Pearson, Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service.

Cocoon Snug at the heart, the worm rests after so long spinning my Angel’s hair into a cocoon that crunches like virgin snow.

Softer than the butterfly’s whisper this caterpillar sleeps maybe forever or is allowed to become the mouthless moth hungry for procreation.

Lee Newsum

Silk scarves

Silk work

In my hand silk A scarf as soft As the flesh It had caressed As it wrapped Around the throat Of her laughter She loved the colours Blue like my eyes She would say.

Beautiful work, Old, delicate.

Decorative life-cycle.

Or roof-tile umber Sunlit sand Gin and tonic lemon Bikini red The green Of traffic-light go Wedding ring yellow Aqua, honeymoon lagoon A smile Basque black Bed-sheet white.

They were scattered Like unwanted sweet wrappers After a children’s party As the rain’s indigo brush Washed against the skylight Like the tears On her cheeks.

Ken Hewitt

Spinning, weaving, stitching, Patience, Production, Industrialisation, First factory.

Time, History, Imagination, Hard work, Rich, poor.

Tutors from Derby Adult Learning Service

Silk cocoon

Silk

You can masquerade as a Queen’s gown Your fresh dyes a weave of deception Peacock feathers of grand illusion

Egg-like Ivory covered Gossamer-soft Silk.

Or feign a virgin’s innocence In stockings held suspender high Straight seamed and chromium smooth You may parachute into death The warmonger’s assault rifle Feeling as safe as a bullet-proof vest Better still no holocaust gassing Of the infant pupae inside your Moon-spun translucence I’d prefer the mulberry leaves To be a freshly served banquet Before the rhapsody of metamorphosis Before you free the kite tailed wings And the purple tipped opalescence Of the Luna moth from its silk cocoon Ken Hewitt

Lovely cream creations Luscious cotton wool, Feather-like fluff.

Lustrous ecru, Flimsy beige antiquities.

Tender, special, Beautiful sacrifice.

Delicate/strong Smooth/textured Soft/hard Alive/Dead Tutors from Derby Adult Learning Service

The Language of Silk

Ode to a silk handkerchief

Nostalgia Family memories Ancient history The story behind the objects – Who were the workers?

What was the cost?

Who is that man in the photograph?

Do you know how silk is made?

How white.

How cruel.

Silk veils.

Not all languages translate.

You are not an unwanted Christmas present I cherish you like no other Cotton handkerchiefs are ten-a penny But for you no sister or brother

Tutors from Derby Adult Learning Service

You are as soft as kittie’s fur Smooth as a new five pound note Placing you in such high regard I react with a lump in my throat Paul Wiggins

Ode to a Silk Gown Oh my lustrous silk Reflecting the illuminations of the court Your sturdiness is that of the prosecutor’s evidence With the fineness of the forensic detail You are as smooth as the accused’s testimony And as black as his deeds You posses the delicacy of the prosecutor’s cross-examination You are as neutral as the inevitable verdict Your strength is that of the law to confine the guilty Truly you will never be held in contempt Stuart Bunting

The silk slip The silk slip lies between us Delicate as skin on milk Translucent as shed sunburn, spun thin as saliva still connecting our kiss Fine as a hair caught in my throat As soft and soiled as a Kingfisher’s nest Strong as the guilt which binds me to you, As durable as shame.

Light is a shining star Light is a shining star Light is made of different colours Light is a glow emitting from the sun Light is unlimited Light is a way of navigating the dark Light is important to find things

Luminous Incandescent Glittery Halo Twilight Creativity Group, Derby Adult Learning Service

Light is the light of life Light is warm Light is a golden incandescent halo Light is the way forward Life is of the universe Light is life Light is hope LEAP Group

Lighten Illuminate Glow Heat Truthful Elisha aged13, Mia aged 12

Light is twinkly Light is lightening Light is fluorescent Light is switched on Light is shiny Light is the sun Light is dazzling Light is beaming Light is sparkle Light is shimmer Light is bright Light is ultraviolet Light is laser Light is snow white Creativity Group, Derby Adult Learning Service

Light is…

Light is bright Light is very bright Light is extremely fast Light is a big help in the dark Light is something that helps us see Light is something that makes me feel happy Light is a beam of energy Light bounces off objects Light travels in a straight line Light can cause heat Light can be temporary Light can brighten up the sky Trainee Electricians from Derby College

Night light candles, Twinkle stars glittering in the dark, Bright moonlight.

Warm glow Bathing in sunshine Daytime hot.

Luminous ultraviolet Shimmer on water.

Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service

‘A Prospect of Derby’, unknown artist, 1725, in the Log Boat Gallery, Derby Museum and Art Gallery.

The Barge Teapot There’s a barge teapot in the family; It’s mine now.

With Gran’s mane on it, its dated 1909, Was it an anniversary reminder? Or a birthday present?

Or simply a decoration? I’ll never know.

I doubt Gran was ever on a barge, Nor, I would think, was the teapot.

They were simply very popular in those days And the teapot lid is actually a small teapot itself.

The tiny spout is chipped off Making it incomplete, sullied, No longer pristine.

The small chip is loose inside the teapot But several attempts at repair Have failed.

So, it will always remain – Imperfect.

John Hyde

Crown Derby Porcelain cup. C 1930 I am an old, cracked cup But when he raises me to his lips The tea is still hot.

Regimental sacrifice

The table is convoy long Cigar smoke hangs in the air Like the cannon plumage of battle

Washing up Carelessly repetitive, he dropped the plates into the late-night washing-up.

Each place setting a surgeon’s mask Knives and bread scalpels and swabs Each plate a stretchered gurney

Later, plunging his hands, he tore the pads of his fingers on the harsh, stoneware edges, confirming the insomnia of a new home.

Tureens will soon be littered With the carcasses of the dead Serviettes becoming shrouds

Lee Newsum

The bloodiest of reds will be spilt But today the screams will drown In the goblets of slurred words From the buffed up medals Deliberating the skirmish Before the next over-priced Regimental …………..sacrifice Ken Hewitt

50’s child 60’s tea cup plain blue glaze, shiny white interior.

I don’t remember how but I broke it in two.

Terror I hid it in the drain Forgotten now until I dropped mother’s sherry glass.

Caron Kirkham

A pot of character Rough hewn from the earth by peasant’s hand Passed from lip to lip during the English invasion Filled in the cold weather with primitive gruel brought from the continent in longboats Left on the ground, when the rout came, and although eroded by earth and rain A rugged strength remains locked in time The fingerprints of the potter still visible though the campaign was lost due to the longboats of Edward’s England Stored now in a fine house where, like an important jewel it is protected from the elements, and Man’s awful destruction.

J.M. Mackenzie

Figure of an eagle The blade that sliced me from the Earth could not know my future at the hands of the would-be Icarus who stuck me to this facsimiled trunk, talons permanently ready to snatch trout that never swam beneath my water-blue table-top.

I am NOT a creature of the air, despite my moulded appearance, but still the earth-bound clay that will never know the moment my potter has chosen.

Lee Newsum

The potter’s sot He drank his fill as soldiers will And then he’d supped some more Till the brim of him was full on full And he’d slid down to the floor He’d let go the pot this Roman sot And it rolled into the night The potter’s skill now lost until The heavens brought new light But on the dawn of his new morn The drums summoned its steady beat And the pot was left at lances heft At the legion’s marching sandaled feet

Flowered missile rosebuds shattering window of silence in the screaming.

One of a pair, the survivor Looks on from the windowsill, Watching the dim room As the fury resumes.

Jealousy hurtles through the air destroys the love nest perfumed by Chanel.

Caron Kirkham

The Gods of Rome had sought them home Leaving foreign lands behind And on the burn of century turn The proof was their to find An ancient pot now marks the spot Where the Roman soldiers stayed And the potter’s art is were they’ll start In that quintessential English glade Ken Hewitt

An ordinary vase Just biscuit fired, I was an ordinary vase until damp air found my striated impurities, reacting to blacken the cobalt glaze.

Lee Newsum

Memories Across the rocks to the needles eye Days out of school drew me there To kick limpets away from the craggy rocks And cool in the soft sea spray We’d meet on the prom in the last concrete shelter Then wander along the beach Collecting cowrie shells and smooth coloured glass Those special ones just out of reach Up to the cave at the foot of the cliff We’d hurry deep inside Unaware of dangers that lurked deep within We’d take our treasures to hide Not thinking the tide would find its way in And they would be lost and far gone Back to the sea to be washed up again Treasures that go on and on To be there evermore in the cave of our hearts To whisper to us in our dreams Our memories of childhood woven around us Forever, like gossamer streams Patricia Flude

My Great Aunt As strong as spinsters’ knickers, my Great Aunt Was there for me, the better to defy The slings and arrows; all the foul mouthed slant Said to hurt and, yes, to make me cry.

As soft as my old boots she wrapped me round With love, and cared for me when others could Have sliced and pierced; she always made me sound Taught me to stand foursquare; she was heartwood.

As gentle as the lion which cuffs its cub She taught me right from wrong; I never knew The vagaries of life; she was the hub Round which I turned, a young girl ingénue.

I never said goodbye, I was not there, A sin of great omission that I’ll grant But she would know the cause and absence bear, For she was spinsters’ knickers, my Great Aunt.

Anni Telford

Invasion

I remember

In that low scrubby bush we made a separate world stuffed meatpaste jars with bright wild flowers and filched old rugs to soften driftwood seats created secret clubs and played at house we stayed for hours.

Sunday afternoons, cycling round a centre more deserted than a Wild West ghost-town.

And mum fulfilling her maternal brief brought cakes and orange squash small chocolate bars and pop but somehow missed the point This space was ours Glen Mulliner 2009

Feeling deliciously naughty, and half hoping the watchman would appear, cops in tow, to chase me across each continent of that ever-shrinking world.

Lee Newsum

Happy Memories My great-grand-dad’s brown trilby hat, A grey African elephant with tusks, made out of pot, My nana’s porcelain jewellery box with a poem on the lid, A cardboard brooch, with an orange feather and sequins that my daughter made me when she was five, My mum’s scarf with red tennis rackets, A rose-bud from my childhood garden, My great-grand-ma’s dressing-table, Art Deco dark wood with ivory handles, A silver and onyx watch that my granny saved up for and bought when she was twenty-one, A poster all about having a sensory room, A tatty teddy-bear with raggy ear and worn-out nose from when I was very little nearly fifty years ago!

It brings the memories back, I feel closer to it the older I get.

Nicki, Derek, Vicky, Paddy, Pat, Denis, Jo, River, Jane, Kat – Life Skills Group, Derby Adult Learning Service.

Dads Music Case Wooden case burnished with age Love of music life of song House full of fun and laughter Dad, full of love Patricia Flude

Alison My girls a miss of many moods Mystery laced with fun And all the shades of earth and sky all in this little one Her dreams are never close at hand but far beyond the hill Tomorrow’s dreams and out of sight shifting never still For all around cannot erase the beauty in her mind made up of shifts of shades of mysteries unknown kind

To my Grandmother’s Corsets Angel skin and whalebone.

You pinched her in until her waist was as narrow as her ambitions.

Constrained her horizons as well as her breath; she could not run until the last irrevocable bolt.

Who could have guessed that such soft chains could bind so hard? She threw you off at the same time as her husband.

Holding you up in front of the mirror I examine the fit.

Anni Telford

When Flying In From Twenty Thousand Feet When flying in from twenty thousand feet I see the hills below me clad in green Whilst in the depths of winter sleet and snow Obscures the view that I have often seen We turn to land and I can clearly see The place I left your ashes on the ground A strange goodbye with people looking on And no words said by any all around From such a height you’d think that I would know That you had gone and never more I’d turn And catch you standing gazing up the brae Or crouching in the heather by the burn Yet still I hear your voice and see your face When walking amongst strangers on the street Or sense you just behind me and I turn When flying in from twenty thousand feet Anni Telford

He loved three things thickly spread oil paint, daffodils and heated debates.

He hated bigots, bullies and thoughtless destruction and he was my father.

Caron Kirkham

My beautiful girl Looks as gorgeous as the day I brought her from dark.

Haiku by Shelley Nobbs, LEAP Group.

Contributors Stuart Bunting Patricia Flude Jane Hardstaff Ken Hewitt Maureen Higsan John Hyde Caron Kirkham Elisha Lewis Mia Lewis J.M. Mackenzie Barbara Moyes Glen Mulliner Lee Newsum Anni Telford Paul Wiggins River Wolton Life Skills Group, Rycote Centre, Derby Adult learning Service Vicky Furber Denis Pearson Derek Robinson Lisa Elwell Helen Mitchell Paddy Musgrave Pat Adams Nicki Lewis Joanne Hall Katryna Frakes

Creativity Group, Rycote Centre, Derby Adult Learning Service Margaret Pollard Glynn James David Rogers Ruth Bramall Machon Gamble Angela Wheatcroft Roy Jackson Diane Alton Lindsey Jones Nicki Lewis Angels Hands Richard Doyle Anmarie Sweeny Jacky Margett Katryna Frakes LEAP (Learn, engage and progress) Group, Derby College Frances Binnie Stephen E Lynn Watson Duane Postlewaite Stella Marshall Sujgad Shabin Leah Richards Steven Freeman Shelley Nobbs Katryna Frakes Darroll Blakemore Fay Pryce Colin Brown Carlos Edwards

Trainee Electricians from Derby College Vishal Bubber Jon Moss Warwick Moore Luke Searle Matt Rayner Ben Radford Ryan Wood Jonathan Pace Kaisar Mehmood Tutors at the Adult Learning Service Tutor Conference 2008 Jean Natali Helen Oliver Maria Pasqual Silvia Rodriguez-Perez Tzitziqui Sanchez-Virk Rita Shepherd Julie Benton Greta Millington Denise Anderson Liz Burke Geraldine Curtiss Jenny Keetley Philippa Larkham Valeriya Moore Carol Richards Angela Wilson Annette Wright Molly Reynolds Karen Knight Pam Purcell Sandra Berrisford Alastair Clark David Day Brian Dickinson

Eileen Hall Claire Jarvis Anne Masson James Somerset Julie Benton Gaynor Fairweather Derwent Writer’s Group Helen Woodhead Maggie Caron Workshop leaders Jo Bell, Poet and National Poetry Day Co-ordinator

River Wolton,

Derbyshire Poet Laureate

Jane Hardstaff,

Community Learning Officer, Derby Museum

Caron Kirkham,

Adult Tutor and writer

Thanks to Derby Adult Learning Service Derby Central Library Derby College PM Poets Derwent Writers Group Pickford’s House staff Jo Bell Katryna Frakes Caron Kirkham Karen King Jo Porrino River Wolton …and everyone who wrote and shared poems

DESIGNED AND PRODUCED BY FOX GRAPHIC DESIGN. www.foxgraphicdesign.com

D

erby Museums are proud to present this collection of poetry produced through Creative Thought, a project which aims to inspire creativity and

learning through museums.

Over the past year, we have run workshops with poetry groups, adults with mental health problems, adults with learning difficulties, tutors from the Adult Learning Service and students from Derby College. Some sessions were led by Jo Bell, National Poetry Day Co-ordinator, some by River Wolton, Derbyshire Poet Laureate, and some by museum staff.

Poems respond to the museums themselves, to historical objects and to subjects such as ‘light’ and ‘memories’. Silk, stockings, moths and cocoons, porcelain, pottery and personal histories are themes which recur throughout the book.

Some poems are by experienced poets, some by people who have never done any creative writing before. The ‘Life Skills’ Group from Derby Adult Learning Service recently received an ‘Inspiring People’ award from Derby City Partnership for their contribution to the project.

We would like to thank everyone who made this book possible, especially the writers who shared their words. To find out more about our workshops, events and exhibitions, visit www.derby.gov.uk/museums Jane Hardstaff, Community Learning Officer, Derby Museums and Art Gallery

Derby Museums and Art Gallery

£5

RENAISSANCE EAST MIDLANDS

ISBN 978-0-9558017-4-7