Scribble 14 by Cartwheelarts

Hello Welcome to this year’s sunny edition of Scribble! (As I type this it’s throwing down buckets outside.) As ever, we have masses to update you on from our fab mini projects and the latest festivals. We also have dreamy contributions from Midnight Shelley and Joy Winkler but most importantly we have lots more juicy creative writing from our Story Groups, so tuck your feet under the picnic blanket, grab another jumper to keep off the Summer chill and enjoy. Emma Melling Editor

Everything

Photos: Brian Slater

When you have to carry all you need on your back, you’ll learn that you need a lot less When you are lost without a map, you’ll learn the kindness of strangers When you cannot get from here to there alone, you’ll learn the value of a smile

Tell us Another one

chapter fourteen

And this; is everything to me When you arrive to a circle of strangers, and you’re given hugs, and food, and heat, you’ll learn the beauty of community When all you have to give is a pretty pebble that you found, you’ll learn that giving needs no price tag When you wake to the pattering of rain on your face, and you climb in next to an almost stranger, you’ll learn the warmth of the human embrace When you wake up to the biggest sky you’ve ever seen, you’ll realise how small our Earth is And this; is everything to me When you hear music drifting across the night and you answer and dance under the stars with sibling strangers, you’ll learn of the Universal Language When you converse with the crazy and find wisdom, you’ll learn what it means to be a pupil When you are so full of gifts you’ve been given, that you’re overflowing with gifts to give, you’ll learn how to be a teacher And This; is Everything to me © Midnight Shelley

For more of Midnight’s beautiful words and insights see her interview and Dreams poem over the page...

It’s been another helter-skelter ride of activity at the Cartwheel fairground this quarter, with a new project celebration every week in May! We began with the unveiling of the recycled sculpture from the Leftovers project at Touchstones Gallery, Rochdale. The sculpture has now moved up to Deeplish Community Centre where we launched the Leftovers recipe book which has encouraged people to reduce waste, reuse leftovers and recycle more. Then we launched the Folk Love book and CD, celebrating live music and poetry with the wider public in Oldham. The following week we had beautiful weather for Scribble Festival so enjoyed ice-cream on the decking in between Rhythmthemed workshops and fantastic performances from our participants, Chanje Kunda and Lemn Sissay. We then launched Bury As It Were - a fantastic new book written by and for the people of Bury. 22 of us boarded a coach to Hay Festival in June to hear talks from some very inspiring writers, and finally we held an exhibition for the New Ghosts project at Falinge Park High School, Rochdale. Phew! In addition to all this we ran a series of sessions on digital skills; everything from using social media like Facebook and Twitter, to useful online resources for writers. There’s more info about all this and upcoming projects for you to get involved in towards the back of the magazine and at

www.tellusanotherone.org

Check us out and give us your views!

FOCUS ON..

Midnight Shelley We bumped into Midnight at Commonword’s Black Writer’s Conference back in March. She has a real talent for poetry as her opening poem on page 2 shows.

- Give us a quick overview of your style. My poems can be different every time. Sometimes I favour rhymes and assonance, and other times I’ll write in free verse. I’m not always concerned with perfect metres or proper grammar. It’s fun to experiment with different styles, though I often don’t know what form a poem will take before I begin. - What have you been working on recently? I’m always writing, jotting down sentences or ideas that come to me from things I see, here, feel or think. Right now there’s probably the seeds of hundreds of poems scattered through my scribblings. Which ones will blossom into complete pieces remains to be seen! - What tips would you give to budding poets? You have to write because you love it. The chances of being able to make a living from being a poet are very small indeed. Read often, write always, and never forget to carry a pen and paper. Taste words, savour them, roll them around on your tongue, in your mind. Find other word lovers to share your work with; this always inspires me to keep creating. - Who inspires you? Ani DiFranco was probably the first person to inspire me to begin to write and gave me the first glimpse of what it might be like to perform my work. I love Walt Whitman, William Blake, and many other poets that I only know through typed text. Kate Tempest’s raw and real performance style really gave me the confidence to open myself up fully to an audience during a performance, to really feel the words as I say them. I am also frequently inspired by an ever increasing number of poets I meet at open mics, festivals and such. 4

- This quarter’s topic for the magazine is Dreams. Tell us what your scariest ever dream was. I used to have a recurring dream where I would be trapped in a dark house with monstrous things lurking behind every door. When I eventually escaped I would be running down darkened streets searching for safety, but knowing that within every house there was a danger, and ultimately that there was nowhere safe to go. Scary! Midnight will be performing at Lime Tree Music and Arts Festival in North Yorkshire on 25th - 26th August. Full info at www.limetreefestival.co.uk In the meantime check out her poetic interpretation of Dreams below and over the page.

New Morning In sleep surrounded by past people wrapped safely with whispers soothed with soft smiles. I wake in my warm womb bed, reluctant to tear away the layers of fleshy mounds. Born into this old room; New morning. and I remember something that I didn’t know I’d lost. I remember that excitement that starts at the heart, and spreads her flaming fingers through the veins, with an idea, an insight, a realization, that something, or all, could change. I could change this page with my pencil, and could move the air with my voice, I could change your mind with a sentence, and re-write my life with a choice. This morning I remembered something that I didn’t know I’d lost. ... continued overleaf...

... continued...

New Morning I remember what it’s like to ride with stabilizers on my bike, to walk the tightrope with a safety net, to rock climb with a wire. So much less likely to slip with people to pick you up so much more fun without fear of the fall. This morning I remembered something that I didn’t know I’d lost. I remember what it’s like to have someone to watch your back, like being wrapped in a blanket in winter, or bare skin being kissed by the sun. Now the slightest breeze sends me shivering, tender to the touch like an old bruise, the world got colder as I got older walking alone with skin exposed. But I am born again on this new morning, The trace of a dream lingers on my lips, and I could start the day with a curse to the world, Or greet her with a kiss. This morning I remembered something, That I didn’t know I’d lost © Midnight Shelley

Over to you...

Dreams

Journey The light of my eyes, the strength in my thighs I know this isn’t a farewell but it feels like byes When you were younger and used to fall You couldn’t walk and used to crawl You held my finger and learnt to walk I taught you speech and how to talk Before I knew it you were in school I know I’m a mother but I can be cool You never gave me a chance to be your friend I still love you unconditionally till the end Now you’ve grown and become a man I find it hard to let go even more than, The actual roots to let go of its tree Even though it’s strong, it can’t be free That’s how I feel and I know this isn’t right You’ve gotta live your life and learn how to fight The troubles, the worries the complications of life And be independent, humble, noble and wise You’ve found a girl and it’s time to start your own legacy It’s been a wonderful journey and I’m proud of you my son and hope you feel the same Make me a grandma so I can experience it all over again © Ghazala Jabeen, Deeplish Story Group

Ambitious Day Dreamer The alarm clock shocks my ears I’m awake Today’s the day I’m going to take My H.G.V. licence. Again, I’m shocked awake Today’s job is going to take me Away from home On a long distance journey Out of my comfort zone. Climbing up into the cab Feels good and exciting Tachograph ready Nerves now steady Ignition blasting me Into action. I’m off ploughing the dusty roads Motorway driving Side-road slipping Clanking gears And resounding brakes Speed MY option Destination far, far away.

Over to you...

Dreams Settled into the rhythm The thrumming wheels Smoothing the distance The flashing landscape Waving me on Other vehicles silently observing the Powerful body channelling by, Avoiding headlight-eye-contact, Respecting the size: Distance kept with respect.

My Dream Day It would start, waking up in a big comfy bed at the Savoy in London, then down to a luxury breakfast. I’d fly over to Paris for my mid-morning coffee. That would be heaven I think. Next would be lunch at a pavement cafe on the Grand Place in Brussels. Back to London to take tea at the Ritz, muffins, cream cakes and tea, all served on the finest china.

Where am I going? South to the ferry Taking my first load All the way to Lille: And man it feel g o o d!

The evening would start with cocktails in some swish bar, dinner at a groovy restaurant, 5 Michelin Stars no less.

Things that wouldn’t happen now come up in my dreams.

The night is not over; a nightclub, cabaret and dancing, then a limousine back to my big comfy bed.

That would be the perfect ending to My Dream Day.

The theatre seats would be in my own private box, with drinks at the interval, watching a Frank Sinatra concert. Paradise!

Enlightening It was an epiphanic moment I was wide awake But this additional awakening, Understanding, Was like an earth quake Shaking me into A parallel universe. This unveiling, revealing So glaringly obvious Stepped me into a comfort zone Like a door opening And welcoming me home. The expanse of light As far as the eye can see Almost infinity, Revealed a wonderland of Excitement and joy A landscape of reality Etched into space Like a Disney set In pliable yet vibrant And solid hues: I had that feeling of Déjà vu My emotions rose To an unbelievable high I knew I’d been here before Felt like I belonged And the sky was So tangibly inviting Silky warm with Milky-way blues

Standing on the doorstep the precipice With reality hanging on Grounding me I viewed, breathed-in The panoramic expanse of a world I’d used in my dreams: A window to a parallel place And I was still wide awake.

Over to you...

Dreams I know how it’s done I do, I’ve done it, Felt it, Lived it before It must be real. The parallel universe Has revealed its Secret to me. Listen and I’ll tell you It’s really not hard. Relax and be calm As you are in deep sleep Breathe effortlessly and Think light Gently move your arms In a circular motion But feather light slow Drawing the air from Your path and you will go, Move, feet drifting off the ground. Your movements must be Gentle smooth strokes Soft without sound Elevating you slowly Through space I know how to fly. It’s air ‘breast stroke’ And when you do it It’s déjà vu Because way, way back we all once flew. (long before Peter Pan) © Kathleen Lomas, Dumer’s Lane Story Group

In my World I dream so many things, In my dream world But very few things come true The dreams that I have seen It’s not only including me. In my dreams I want peace I want peace in my mind I want peace in my home I want peace in my village I want peace in my town I want peace in my country I want peace all over the world But my dreams never come true For the people, For the cruel people The people can make the world peaceful But they always think of themselves In my dreams I would ask all Make a peaceful, nice world for all. © Saleh Uddin Talukdar, Coldhurst Story Group

Dream and Thought

Over to you...

Dreams My Dream I was a small child when my sister was married. My new brother-in-law lived in England, so my sister moved there to join him after their wedding.

Dreams are that which a person sees when asleep, and thoughts are that which a person sees whilst awake. Just as different thoughts come to a person in the same way, there are different kinds of dreams. Generally there are three types of dreams. One that a person thinks of in the day time. Secondly, when something is going to happen in their life. Thirdly, devilish thoughts. Everyone has different opinions about dreams. Some people, when they dream something, it happens in the same way. For others, the opposite happens. Most people advise that dreams are the thoughts of the devil - you shouldn’t tell them to anyone. In fact, you should forget them. © Shahida Parveen, Spotland Story Group

I would dream about going to England too. Later after I was also married, my parents moved to England too, this made my wish to visit England even stronger. In 1995 I got the chance to visit my sister and her family and my parents. I came for three months as a visitor and loved being here. We travelled all over the UK; I liked the life in the UK, so organised and fast. Then, after years, my dreams came true when my husband got a chance to come here to work through a highly skilled migrant scheme and moved to live here. This time, I found life in the UK absolutely difficult. After a few months I was fed up with the style of living here. I started missing my other family members and relatives back in Pakistan. I started remembering the times when we used to go to parties with our friends and when we would go travelling to remote parts of Pakistan like mountain areas, Murree, Swat and Naran. I miss those places very much. We also lived in spacious homes and had maids to do the housework; we don’t have this facility in England. So I remember all these things very much. Most of all I missed my son, he was too old at twenty to be allowed to come with us under the highly skilled migrant scheme. © Samina Nasir, Deeplish Story Group

It’s not always your imagination playing up or being cool as ice. Armed with amazing dimples - always two sets. Dream on, and vote, a yellow slow boat. The kids from broken homes and plenty of nice attitude and dead impressive hairdo’s. Coming through dredlocks, touch me man, me chilling right down to the core. With the moptop down and shaggy look a close 2, maybe 3 in a line and turn heads of white fluffy angels from far. But why do you cut yourself up. Before drawing pictures, Vietnam on graph boxed blue paper, almost like a desire and pulling the Master’s curtains back. © Tara Casa, Coldhurst Story Group

Street of Dreams To be on the telly, that would be a laugh, To serve behind the bar of the Rovers, And be engrossed in all kinds of gossip and not be too involved, To chat a while over latest hairstyles and clothes and who’s won the lottery. Fame at last as I serve up Betty’s favorite hot pot. © Marie Hargreaves, Fitton Hill Story Group

I’ll meet you in my dreams Strolling through sub-conscious fields Lauren takes in the views of plenty Crowds gather around golden apple trees Just one bite will make them glow Rejuvenate the body and the soul Then Lauren’s eyes gaze up high Where adults and children Fly around the sky Where butterflies are ten foot long And clouds are bouncy So people spring and bong Wheelchairs are flung onto the bonfire While their owners dance, sing And never tire Then Lauren sees it A view to make her smile The face of her daughter The face of her child Running together They jump up high Embrace each other Within the sky And they continue Hand in hand For a walk through sub-conscious fields A wonderful dream land

My Dream Destination

Over to you...

Dreams

Where would I go if I went for a holiday? I’m not one for travelling but I’m a lover of the arts and history. Rome is a place that has always fascinated me ever since I was a child, Because I love anything to do with the Renaissance age. Michelangelo was a great artist and sculptor. I would love to get up close and look at the Sistine Chapel, And wander around the statues in marble. Rome is such a romantic place to look round the gigantic fountains. © John Morris, Fitton Hill Story Group

Dream Destination

Blissful Sleep The day seems beautiful Until I open my eyes The world seems welcoming Until I step into it When the morning comes My dreams are on hold

Over to you...

Dreams

One day I would love to go to Japan. I think it would be a wonderful experience, and shock to what I am used to in my cafe. I think I would love the culture and local architecture. © Merton Dencowycz, Fitton Hill Story Group

I can see bad and good dream I can see doctor I can see bad dream In the good dream bird, black, big is calling I feel good I am driving a car © Jahura Bibi, Coldhurst Story Group

Sometimes I have dreams which have some sort of meaning. I wouldn’t know how that happens, maybe I think about the situation deeply therefore I get a sign i.e. we had applied for an “entry visa” for my sister-in-law, her two daughters and one of our cousins who wanted to attend my niece’s wedding in England. My husband and myself were sponsoring them. We kept in contact with everyone concerned. Then before we actually found out whether they all got the visa or not, I had a dream that there is a very large room, in the middle there is a desk where my cousin is sat and an officer is sat on the other side. This officer is pointing at him and is saying “you cannot have a visa!” I don’t know where I am looking from, but I am hearing this and then I wake up. The same morning we hear that my sister-in-law and her two daughters have got the visa but my cousin didn’t. © Nuzhat Iqbal, Spotland Story Group

Incomplete Our home was our castle, and we wanted it to be our dream, Jack running around putting the kitchen in, what about the bathroom, I’ll do that and so he did, he had his own business, nothing was too much, but sadly not to be, he left this world and the dream was incomplete. © Marie Hargreaves, Fitton Hill Story Group

Shopno (Bangla for ‘Dreams’) She dreams to be a doctor She dreams that in the future she wants to go back to Bangladesh Sometimes good dreams, sometimes not good. Scared, dangerous, upset Different person, different place May go to Bangladesh in my dreams Everything together No boundaries, no restrictions, everything peaceful

Technicolour Dream Silently sleeping with all curtains closed suddenly came, a light so extreme and there before me in the Still of the Night I gazed upon my Technicolour Dream The galloping hooves, the Wind that cries My Saturday Matinee Surprise

Beautiful, peaceful. She thinks if only it could happen in real life Flowers, scenery, green land, pastures Blurry, not crystal, hazy Others sometimes clear Or forget

Ice-cool O’Toole, eyes blips of blue John Wayne, Flash Gordon, sweet Billie Jean Fonda & Hopper in slow-motion death The never escaping, cool Steve McQueen And poor Piggy lying, dead among the Flies In my Saturday Matinee Surprise

Over to you...

I’m forever linked to Poitier I’m chained until I die I’m eggbound with Newman Cast adrift with Captain Bligh Oh how the girls would kill For Cleopatra’s eyes I’m dreaming, it’s a Saturday, Matinee Surprise Waking with a jolt, the cinemas gone Connery has cashed his Bond, “of coursh” the tinsel lay tarnished, ‘Bingoed’ to a pulp the rebel dead beside a burning Porsche oh to return to sleep, reprise Pearl & Dean back to the fantasy of Technicolour Dreams but morning comes the reverie dies and with it, my Saturday, Matinee Surprise

Dreams

See someone who died, see them as though alive Good or bad Can relate it to your real life. When bad dream, related to real life. She wishes it wouldn’t happen in real life, fear it will. Running - she can’t run Closest ones as her enemies, or far away She’s checking patients as a doctor Bad dream she sees black monster trying to get her Dead bodies very scared You can dream whilst awake - day dreaming In yoga class - says close eyes and think of beautiful picture, to make them calm Dreams she’s awake, thinking she’s dropped the kids off Then she wakes up and realizes she was dreaming Dream of flower, red in a frame. © Coldhurst Story Group

Half life

Daydreaming

Dreams sometime is truth and some time not. When we see dreams we can’t explain to other people what happens exists. Dream is wonderful when we see happiness, or we doing something good. We sit with the family and talking in the dream. Suddenly we wake up, smile on our face. We turn sides and go back to sleep.

People sometimes imagine themselves in places where in reality they cannot reach. You can daydream about things you want for your children, yourself - things that should happen and are maybe not happening.

If we see bad dream, suddenly we wake up. We feel hot, sweating, shaking, scary. Then we start praying. When we calm down we read surthay (verses from the Qur’an) in our mind then go back to sleep again.

Sometimes you feel happy about a thought and sometimes you get depressed. You can imagine beyond valleys, mountains, even sky and you can control every moment of your thought. Your thoughts even turn your feelings so your daydreams can be very powerful © Nuzhat Iqbal, Spotland Story Group

Over to you...

Dreams Parallel universes I saw a dream. The dream was my brother was dead, so I was crying. My brother was on the floor, he was wearing white clothes. I think, my mum and dad are in Bangladesh they hear the news. Then I’m thinking what happened?

Sky talks In 2005 I went to pick my children from school - coming back on the way without my willing I saw the sky was a different colour than normal. I thought why is the colour so unusual, is it saying something to me. I thought something is happening in the world, something bad.

In my dream I was crying a lot. Then I wake up. I asked my mother-in-law. She said it’s okay. This is a good dream. If you see in a dream someone is dead, then it means they will have a long life.

I came back and was busy with the children, but I could not focus, I kept remembering that the colour of the sky was saying something. After a few hours I heard the news there was an earthquake in Pakistan. Then I realized this sign. It means the sky was sending me a message.

Silver Dreams

Cries in the Night

As I walk along a silver stream My mind is lost within a dream My thoughts are captured by a dove And flown up to the sky above My heart is racing, chasing ambition To reach up high And take my vision To see the things I never see And be the me I want to free

Tension Fear Her hot breath Exhaled into cold air A dark silent road Beneath a still moon Her footsteps echoing On pavement cracked Heart beat racing Crashing around her head Thump thump Thump thump Thump thump She senses it’s near Moving closer She glances nervously Over her shoulder She sees it A white van Driven by a shadowy figure Its blacked-out windows Seem sinister Hiding evil within She quickens her step Nervously Trying to show no fear The van stretches to a stop In her path The door whines open She is frozen in terror Cruel hands Grab, hurt and snatch She struggles Her cries for help unanswered The door slams shut And tyres squeal As the van Speeds away The road is once again silent Nobody heard The cries in the night

My Dream Destination My dream is to stay in a small cottage Somewhere off the beaten track No cars or buses. I would like there to be lots of walks through woodland The smell of fresh greenery would fill my senses. To be able to touch the different textures as I wander about I would want my cottage to be surrounded by flowers with lots of colours Ivy growing up the walls I would be able to hear the bees See insects and animals that I don’t see in the town © Doris Smith, Fitton Hill Story Group

Over to you...

Dreams

Thanks Heart I listen to the best of Heart, Ann Wilson really rocking out. Who’ll You Run To? and All I Wanna Do reminding me of my dear ex-wife. Why do I dream of her? Is it to show me I have nothing now? No wife, no family, no house, no car, no job and no happiness? I can’t describe how it affected me at 6am in the morning. A mental block provided by an angel protects me from oblivion. I had it all in my perfect marriage to a white witch. We did it all: witchcraft and spells, holidays abroad, got tattooed, saw live bands, made love. My mental health failed me, us. I ruined you and me, do you forgive me? My dream shows me what I lost fifteen years ago. What I have now. Unable to get a girlfriend or job in my time back in Oldham, I’m a special case. What has Bev achieved in the last two decades? I know my writing and tattoos and love of goth music and occasional darkness will eclipse her. She gave me my paganism, what did I give her? We don’t speak now. Thanks Heart. © Nick Armbrister, Fitton Hill Story Group

Over to you...

Dreams

I turn the key (a recurring dream) I turn the key in the lock to unfamiliar surroundings I don’t see clearly the furniture in the room, they are dark inside, Not much light in the room with the sun shining through on a bright and sunny day. Just a sense I don’t belong here I don’t live here I don’t stay I see myself letting myself in with my key to find someone else there and saying I don’t live there. I feel so convinced that I do, then I realise I don’t. I feel I live at my present house; as much as I like it and the area, I dream of the previous place as if it was my house, this felt like home. Now living in this current house, I took ill within a few months of moving here, which has severely impeded me over the years. My youngest son moved out I think after a year, my oldest son still lives with me. I think I miss those years when me and my boys were together and able... to spend time together I have had a recurring dream and I envisage me not at my present house but at the house where I previously lived. I feel nothing sad about that house, I just feel a connection I can’t describe, is it because I lived there for so long? It has a hold on me, I’m not sure why. I’ve never thought or sought out why

sleeping or awake dreams and nightmares take place night or day © Kathleen Lomas, Dumer’s Lane Story Group

Outside the door A mixture of tones of brown. I see light and dark and in between around the doorway with the sun lighting the scene as I put the key into the yale lock and open the blue door to a scene.. © Karen Porter, Spotland Story Group

I saw a dream, the dream was I went to the beach with my cousins. The water on the beach was dark blue and the sun was shining bright. I had a picnic with my cousins. Then the sky began to get dark. So I went home. On the beach I played in the water and made a sandcastle. When I played in the water I played with my cousins. And when I made a sandcastle I did it by myself. © Saima Choudhury, aged 9, visiting Coldhurst Story Group

To Live a Dream Ever since I can remember I have always been involved with acting. From being a young lad taking part in amateur plays, comedies, going to performing arts classes, doing improvised acts in front of the audience looking on, feeling nervous. The adrenaline kicking in. Meeting people who went on to be professional actors. I have always wanted to be an actor. I finally became a member of Equity, but never made it through to being classed as an actor. Although I had my moments, and have been in the middle of some things that make me pinch myself to believe it was happening: given some speaking lines in Coronation Street twice it happened to me; given lines in a film, Daddy Fox, filmed in Sale © John Morris, Fitton Hill Story Group

Night and Day The soothing rhythm of raindrops fills the air The day’s rituals and plans fill the spaces that Night Thoughts, Dreams occupied a fleeting glance away In the shadowy corners of my mind fading footprints of emotions pleasure, love and fear slowly disappear as the day steals me awake. Then effortlessly, minute by minute, the night ticks nearer. 26

Over to you...

Dreams My dream would be to fly to Hawaii and garland round my neck, feel the sea air and lovely mountains and the friendly people making you feel welcome, and relax in warmth of hospitality. My dream. © Marie Hargreaves, Fitton Hill Story Group

Osteoporaticless Before I wake and the new day begins I am free of the bones of things that age brings I jump out of planes and land without fear Ice skate and ski Climb to the canopy In rain forest trees Ride a bike across rough terrains Hang-glide off the White Cliffs of Dover Go ape and bumper-car my grandkids Great! Venture out when snow is on the ground Build snowmen and toboggan with a crowd Canoe and dig my own garden with a spade Paint ceilings Build dry stone walls even dig trenches

Over to you...

Dreams I spin when dancing Horse ride and take chances Go on safari sleep in a tent and French skip till I’m spent. Run for miles Play tennis Badminton And squash never missing a shot Play netball and rounders and Volleyball on a sandy beach In the heat Bliss! Fly in a hot air balloon Retrieve falcons on warm afternoons

In My Dreams I saw a narrow road in my village The cowboy is coming home from farmland The beautiful area of my village! I saw the cowboy singing with a smile He feels relaxed When he is back in the village He holds the strong bull The bull he likes most and The bull likes the cowboy The sunset in my village What I saw in my dreams It was the loveliest image I ever saw in my dreams I wish I would be the cowboy Or That bull the cowboy likes most © Saleh Uddin Talukdar, Coldhurst Story Group

Moving Abroad

My dream hasn’t gone.

I dreamed one day I will move abroad and live, I would like to move to a good climate country, plenty of sun and places to go and walk every day. Also possibly a quiet place in season and some good views to visit and spend time there. Maybe in the future I will complete my dream and move abroad, but until then I will just dream.

When day breaks and I awake The fragile bones age brings Impinges but the buzz and my enthusiasm lingers on

My and My Kids’ Dream My dream is to see my kids have their dreams come true Have what they want, and one day, I will go to Haj with my kids My dream is to buy my own house and have my own shop Make clothes and sell them to make money for me and my kids My dream is to see my kids grown up with good jobs Be kind to others and have good lives with all that they need My dream is to see my Dad come here to visit me from Pakistan He is not well, he can’t walk and I can’t go, my daughter is not well She cannot travel, I can’t leave her, she is only ten.

You Gotta Have A Dream When you’re old you have had so many dreams, Where do you start? The past, the present or what is yet to come The dreams of youth are long forgotten, Some did come true, The rest drifted away like cobwebs in the morning sun, I question were they dreams, or were they yearnings for better things? My present dream is more tangible, It is to leave my happy family-sized house and move into a bungalow, It’s waiting for me, small, compact and easy to manage, No worries about building maintenance or gardening In my dream I have re-designed the kitchen, Set out my furniture in the various rooms, Arranged my precious china figures in the deep window recess. Will it become a reality? I wonder.

My dream is that my Dad could come here. If he comes here My dream will come true, I miss him a lot, so do my kids. © Yasmin Akhtar, Deeplish Story Group

Over to you...

Dreams My Hopes

My favourite fantasy (surely fantasies are dreams in disguise) Is to travel to Venice, Sit in a cafe in St Mark’s Square, with a large glass of wine, Listen to the carillon and watch the world by. Ah well! “You gotta have a dream” so the song says.

I am an honest mum. I will try helping poor people in the world. I want peace all over the world. I dream everybody lives together. I like communication Understanding people, because somebody makes a quarrel. I don’t like fight anywhere in the world.

The Riddle of Me I dreamt I woke one morning and the world was full of glee, For someone had uncovered the riddle of the me. They wrote in clouds across the sky, and poured it in the sea, The whole world celebrated without animosity. For as one they were elated with the meaning in the me. I mean the me in men of course, the me in women too! Not forgetting that one, That is in me and you. Also the me in mention, And the one that is in mine. Or the one that will be with us, Throughout our earthly time. For the me that is in dreaming Conjured up this nonsense rhyme.

My Island I have a dream. When I can’t take the strain I go to my favourite place an island of desolation no trains or stations hardly another soul lives there Peace and quiet! All I hear is the hushed mischievous whisperings of sea urchins’ wings drifting across the landscape of sea. Taste tiny tingling tendrils of crystallized sea-salt spray praying on my silent lips. I am smoothed to infinity by gently lapping invisible waves of blue peace. I have a dream place My unpolluted island A place I long to live.

Dreams are rarely true and are deceiving. Sometimes when you have a dream it takes you a few minutes to think what kind of dream you had and sometimes it’s very clear in your head what you dreamed about.

I dream of the perfect job, to do Complementary Therapy, to better my chances. I dream of the career I want, to work in a caring role, to help people who need. I dream of my own home, to have for me and my lad, to make sure he is safe and secure. I dream of a better life than the one I have.

I think sometimes you dream about things that you don’t even think about or people that you don’t think about. You wake up with a blurry thought in your mind and think, ‘How did I dream about that person or that situation?’ Sometimes dreams are very clear about people who are close to you or people you love very dearly, like my mother who has been dead for ten years now. For a few years after she died I used to think about her all the time and nearly every week she used to come in my dreams. It used to be like a real life meeting. She used to talk to me about everything - give me things, eat and drink with me, even hug me and kiss me. When I used to wake up, the feeling was real as though I really met my mum, but after some time I used to realise that she had been dead and it was only a dream.

Over to you...

Dreams Every day I dream

I can see dream myself sky fly I can see sometime going to Bangladesh I can see some time my grandmother I can see another people make yellow flowers in a frame from material I am look my face, when I look I am afraid © Sabina Iasmin, Coldhurst Story Group

Dreams of Childish Things (a poem for two voices) When I was a child, I dreamed of childish things. Then I grew older, began to ask real questions We’ve got to call the reality what it is. I was a civil servant, yet I had no car I was a poor man But I hadn’t given up on my dreams And I, I once wanted to live in Wales In a deserted church on a mountain

Over to you...

Dreams House Dreams My first home after I was married was a small two up and two down. We had lived with parents until then, the rent was 7./7 a week. What a sight everything was in a bad state of repair One of the bedrooms was not user friendly, walls were damp, draughts from the windows. The wooden stairs felt very rickety and dark The rooms downstairs were no better, an old sink, long but made of pottery. But as I looked around the house, I began to see possibilities. Decorate, new carpets, some of my wedding presents would soon make the place more attractive, bright coloured pictures and cushions. The kitchen would shine with new pottery and glistening pans. 34

You’re only one person. You don’t have the wisdom of the world You don’t have the platform to say how you’re affected. Adults are not as honest as they seem at first; Once grown, they try to be childlike For their own selfish ends. Dreams - they dream of “human rights” One type for one person And another type for another An impasse, mixed motives, Our farmers producing maize For export, not for food. To approach in innocence, The thing to do is to go outside, And look at a flower closely, and draw it as it is. If you try and try Eventually you’ll get something that you yourself really like. And that is success. And that is success. From a conversation between Joe Koza and M Mupfudza, Falinge Story Group; recorded by Vik and arranged by the group.

Folk Love In the last issue of Scribble, you might have spotted an advert for the Folk Love performance in Oldham, the culmination of a three-month poetry and songwriting project with the Indian Association Oldham, Key To The Door young parents’ group, and St Patrick’s RC Primary School. Here’s what we did! Love’s a subject we all have something to say about - the joy and pain it can bring, and the way it can change us. And since everyone experiences love in their own way, it’s a theme that can really get us writing from the heart, and in our own unique voices. It felt like a good starting-point for a project! The “folk” part of the title came from the idea that creativity can be a communal thing as well as an individual thing; you can share the process with a group, building up an idea of what a subject means to you together. Poet Shamshad Khan and musicians Claire Mooney and Keertan Rehal worked with the participants over ten sessions, helping them write poems and songs about love. People at different stages of life had different things to say - many of the Indian Association group wrote about how it feels to be married for thirty years or more, whereas Key To The Door wrote beautifully about their love for their young children. The Year 6 class at St Patrick’s explored their own take on “love” by looking at friendship. They created and recorded a fantastic song, A Good Friend, in just one day!

The final performances were on 30th March and 17th May, at Oldham Library and Lifelong Learning Centre. As well as the artists and participants, we welcomed other musicians, singers and dancers, producing a kaleidoscope of views of love from different places and times. We’ve made a book of poems from the project, illustrated by drawings from St Patrick’s School. There’s also an accompanying CD, including live recordings from the March performance; the song by St Patrick’s School; and a piece by project-manager Vik, in which people on the streets of Oldham give their answers to the question, “What does love mean to you?” We got some brilliant answers, from the comic to the profound - it just goes to show that poetry can be found wherever you look! If you’d like a copy of the book and CD, please contact Cartwheel Arts. On our website www.tellusanotherone.org, you can find links to photos and videos of the project in progress.

I Wish I Was Your... I wish I was your bindi I could put you on my forehead so you are with me all the time I wish I was your kaajal Then I would be in your eyes all the time I wish I was your locket So I can stay close to your heart I wish I was your sari So I could be wrapped around you I wish I were your anklets So that you can hear my presence I wish I was your kirtan So I could be in your breath, not forgotten for a moment Excerpt from a group poem by the Indian Association group, from an idea by Key To The Door.

When I’m with You When I’m with you my heart melts away You make me so happy Look at all we’ve achieved today The day we met my heart skipped a beat You and our babies are my world I feel so proud when I walk down the street © Sally Cook, Key To The Door

Folk Love Angels (Dedicated to a small angel so close to my heart, with help from his mum) Your little hands, Your button nose, Your blonde/brown hair, Your twinkly toes. The way you sleep, The way you smell, The way you looked, I could never tell. I held your hands, I stroked your hair, I’ll forever treasure them moments When you were there. A tiny baby, So quiet and still, I miss you now, And I always will. © Laura Taylor, Key To The Door

New Ghosts Year 7 students at the fantastic Falinge Park High School have been in a spooky mood this term, thanks to Tell Us Another One’s artists’ books project, New Ghosts. An artists’ book is simply a work of art in the form of a book. But sometimes, it’s not a “book” as we know it - it might take an unusual form, such as a concertina or pop-up; or it might be an altered book (an old book that has been manipulated by the artist into something more like a sculpture). It might even look more like a box or a casket, or it could be a zine (a self-produced magazine that brings together writing and images in a creative way). For this project, we wanted to explore the idea of ghost stories. Where do they come from, and how do they work? How does a ghost story arise around a particular place or event? We decided to ask the students to invent their own ghostly tales, based on inspiration from real bits of local history. Book artists Nicky Colclough, Sarah Jay, Lucy May Schofield, Johnny Woodhams, and poet John Lindley, began the project with some research at Rochdale’s local history library at Touchstones. They uncovered some fascinating snippets from old photos and newspapers, which they used as a starting-point.

Once the young people had made up their ghost stories, the artists helped them create books of different kinds. We used a wide range of techniques, from sun pictures and collage to basic bookbinding, and created some fantastic work. The students’ evaluations especially mentioned how much they enjoyed using oldfashioned typewriters - rare beasts in this digital age! The work was exhibited at the school in June, complete with ghostly lighting and even a smoke machine! But we decided it deserves a wider audience, so it’ll be shown again at The Hive Gallery, in Rochdale’s Wheatsheaf Shopping Centre, during August. The Hive is open Fridays and Saturdays, 11am to 4pm; and Sundays, 12 noon to 3pm; and the exhibition will be up from Saturday 28th July to Sunday 26th August. We’ll be in the basement, for suitably spooky effect - so if you’re doing your weekend shopping, why not call in and have a look?

Scribble Festival This year’s festival was bigger and better than ever, with two rounds of workshops on the theme of rhythm, a group sharing, and readings from lots of local writers. All this was topped off with performances in the evening from the fantastic Chanje Kunda about her escapades in Amsterdam, then the grand finale of Lemn Sissay. Chanje Kunda is a poet, playwright, performance artist and female emcee. She is currently Artist in Residence at Heesterveld Creative Community in Amsterdam, has done countless performances - gracing the likes of the Royal Albert Hall & Calabash Literature Festival in Jamaica and has produced award-winning Hip Hop poetry EP One Voice. She is an international sensation, tingling with passion for poetry. Lemn Sissay is a poet, award-winning playwright, and author of 5 poetry books. Lemn is associate artist at the Southbank Centre, the first poet commissioned to write for the 2012 Olympics and his Landmark Poems adorn huge walls throughout Manchester and London. He reads on stages across the globe, is an honorary Doctor of Letters, and was awarded the 2010 travelling award scholarship. In the same year the BBC made a television documentary about his life and he was made a MBE for services to literature. He is a shining lighthouse of hope in the choppy seas of austerity!

Thanks to Denise at Dumer’s for this lovely poetic feedback on the festival.

The 24th May was the Scribble Fest. We all agreed it was the best. We had such fun and learned so much From Rhythm and Rhyme to taste and touch With Chanje Kunda and Lemn Sissay, I must say that he made my day I laughed so much I nearly farted That was before he’d even started. It was so hot we all perspired and went home damp but so inspired. © Denise W, Dumer’s Lane Story Group

You can see more of the dialogue from the day on Twitter #ScribFest. We’re hoping to make an even bigger splash with Scrib Fest 2013 so keep an eye out for news of performers in the next magazine.

Finally, it wouldn’t be right not to include a credit for our fabulous compere for the evening - Dominic Berry. Dominic is well-known on the Manchester performance poetry scene. He is Winner of New York’s famous Nuyorican Poetry Cafe Slam (June 2011), heat finalist of Cheltenham Literature Festival Slam (2011) and twice Forever Manchester 5 star award winner in Manchester’s Not Part Of festival (2009 and 2011). 2012 has seen him perform his poetry on CBeebies Rhyme Rocket and Channel 4′s My Daughter The Teenage Nudist. He has also made several forays into theatre; his latest piece WIZARD is a funny, dark and magical tale of how one agoraphobic wizard and his talking kettle relate to a concerned neighbour in his tower block home.

Bury as it were Seedfield Story Group and new participants in Bury have been writing stories based on local history which have been collated into a book. Published writer Gemma Lees (who herself lives in Bury) worked with the group on writing about events such as the Queen opening Bury Town Hall and places like Bury Fish Market. Here are 2 extracts which show off the talent of our two fantastic illustrators on the project.

The book was launched at a special event in May. Contributors to the book read their pieces aloud and, after sharing stories of her own experiences in the places described, the Mayor presented participants with framed illustrated pieces. It was a really special day which will stay in people’s minds for a long time to come.

One participant said: “I thoroughly enjoyed the Book Launch and would like you to thank the people who organised and ran the event. The illustrations helped to make the book, so thanks to them. I was pleased to receive the picture, I have already found a place for it.” Clare Schofield, June 2012.

Hay Fever

“Few times in one’s life does one get to be in the presence of an inspiring person. Wadah Khanfar has done more than most, seen world events and been where history has been made.”

Our weekend trip to Hay Literature Festival in June blew our minds! A great time was had by all despite the heavy rain forecast and a little trouble with a tired old coach! Several of us particularly enjoyed the performance by Syrian poet Faraj Bayrakdar. He did a piece called Black Mirrors which you can read at www.pen.org (just type Faraj into the search box). We also enjoyed the reading by actor Fiona Shaw, in which she told us about the project Peace Camp that she’s doing this summer with director Deborah Warner. They’re recording people from all over the country reading love poems, which they will be playing in beautiful installations around the coast of the UK in July. Everyone who came was inspired by the trip.

Hurray for Hay After a late start and a breakdown on the way, we were finally off on our trip to Hay. We had lots of chats, laughs, snacks, then a snooze. As soon as we arrived we ran off to the loos.

“I had a fab time. So, so glad I came - great atmosphere.”

Here’s some of the feedback:

Then we listened to the first of many shows, with Faraj Bayrakdar and his inspiring prose. “I was inspired by many different people from different countries and backgrounds.”

“In the midst of events, what stood out to me - in a tent, a lady, well-spoken in poetic strength before a crowd. Fiona Shaw, a poetic gem.”

“I thought it was a wonderful trip, from war zones to peace, to talk of how people feel, and to the acting of the poetry. I found out that it is not how you just say the words, but they have to have meaning.”

“O-M-G, I’ve sat within 10 metres of Simon Callow, the best British actor of our time. Spoke to him afterwards and was rewarded with a Thank You and a big smile.”

He was jailed for his views, imprisoned for years, I see that we make our own boundaries and fears. Next was Fiona Shaw’s witty, lifting tones. That made up for hard chairs that hurt all my bones. Jeremy Vine had so many dry retorts, He made humour from the most sobering thoughts. Kate Tempest’s hip-hop, rap and great spoken word was the most inspiring gig we’ve ever heard. A rendition of the Wasteland was the last poem, Then back to the coach for the journey home. So thanks to Emma and all at Cartwheel Arts. For this trip will stay for ever in our hearts. © Denise W, Dumer’s Lane Story Group

connect2poetry

Digital Training Lately, Tell Us Another One’s been offering a guide to the online world, with a selection of training sessions exploring useful computer skills. Many writers these days are finding that the Internet opens new opportunities, so it’s an area worth exploring! Our Introducing Social Media session ran at NESTAC in Rochdale, and Dumers’ Lane Library in Bury. Trainer Emily Pitts is a visual artist who uses social media very effectively in her own work, so she was able to guide us through the world of Twitter and Facebook, and clear up the knotty questions around things like privacy and copyright that tend to worry us as writers. As participant Pascoal Fernandes said on Facebook, “it has been very useful, giving me the opportunity to aware of social network concerns...” Here at Tell Us Another One, we’ve been using social media a bit more ourselves - and we can say from experience that it’s a great way to keep in touch with people and tell them what we’re doing. It can work in the same way for individual writers too - so if you’ve not tried talking about your work on social media, why not give it a go?

We’ve got news of a really exciting new project coming up in late summer, which combines digital technology with both poetry AND the great outdoors!

Our The Web for Writers session was led by poet John Siddique. Running at the Lighthouse in Middleton, CVS Rochdale, and Dumers Lane, this session looked at all the different resources that are available for writers online. John reminded us that one way to improve your writing is to read more - he recommended the handy www.goodreads.com, a site that can help you find new authors to love. On our own Facebook page, we recently asked people which writing websites they would recommend - replies included What The Dickens http://wtdmagazine.wordpress.com; Pinkpen www.pinkpen.co.uk; and Writers’ Digest www.writersdigest.com. Why not have a look? We’re hoping to run more digital training sessions in future - keep your eye on our website, and on Facebook and Twitter, for news. And if you’ve not yet joined us online, here’s where to find us:

www.tellusanotherone.org www.facebook.com/cartwheelarts @cartwheelarts cartwheelartsonline

It’s called Connect2Poetry, and it’s a partnership between us, Rochdale’s Maskew Collection, and CTC, the national cycling organisation. It aims to get people out walking and cycling around Rochdale - and, while they’re at it, composing their own poems and posting them online. It all starts with Connect2, a network of cycle paths and walking routes around Rochdale borough, sponsored by Sustrans and CTC. The paths aim to make it easier and safer to get around on foot or by bike, and to connect one area to another (hence the name!) We’ve asked poets Steve Garside, Robin Parker, Norman Warwick, Eileen Earnshaw, Sam Fisher, Val Chapman and Seamus Kelly to write new poems inspired by different areas of the Connect2 paths. The poems will be placed on metal plaques around Rochdale borough - so when you’re out for a walk or bike ride, you can get a bit of inspiration. Next, we’ve asked social media agency TurnOnSocial to create a mobile app for us. It’s a poetry app - it gives you prompts to help you think about, and write about, the place you’re in. When you start the app up, it asks you to find one of the plaques - and when you’ve found one, the app asks you a thoughtprovoking question; something like: “If this place was a colour, what colour would it be?” or “What can you hear?”

You’re encouraged to walk or cycle on, take photos (which get posted to Flickr), and answer several questions. Then the app cleverly takes all your answers, and puts them together to form a poem. You can edit your poem as much as you want, before uploading it to the project blog. There will be prizes for the best entries! In August and September, we’ll be running all sorts of events to encourage people to have a go everything from guided walks, to live outdoor performances (and if you haven’t got a phone, you can try out the app using one of ours). But you can also download the app to your own phone, and useit whenever you fancy. Keep an eye on: w w w. t e l l u s a n o t h e r o n e . o r g / projects/connect2poetry/ for more details of events, and news of when the app is available to download. Meanwhile, if you’d be interested in having a guided walk or writing workshop for your group, email vik@cartwheelarts.org.uk and let me know!

scribble spotlight ON..

Competition Corner

Joy Winkler The Joy of Summer

Here is an update from one of our favourite writers, Joy Winkler. Sit back and enjoy some inspiration and wisdom.

Summer is here, so they say, and I have saved these months to finish off a piece of writing which I’ve been working on for about a year. It’s a long piece of narrative poetry about a small town and the people that live there. I have been making notes and writing drafts throughout the year in order to catch the seasons and movement of town life. I want to focus now on finishing this piece off and arranging performances of it wherever I can. I’ve been writing other stuff too, it has been a productive time recently. A good tip is to attend writing courses or workshops, which can really inspire and inform your writing. Also get out and read your work as this gets great feedback from people with the same interests. There are so many open mic and sharing forums these days - don’t be shy, have faith in your writing. And ask what other people are reading. At the moment I am reading ‘Deep Field’ by Philip Gross. For a few years I have been working with writers’ groups on a project in Broughton, Salford called Writing Lives. This is a joint venture organized by Salford University and the Broughton Trust. This July there is an exhibition of their work in digital format at Media City. How exciting. I can’t wait to see the final result of months of very hard work. As far as dreams are concerned I think the ones that are the scariest for me are the recurring ones. I used to have one dream over and over where our dog, Sam, hadn’t been fed for over a year! He kept following me around and I meant to feed him and then forgot. These dreams came ten years after he had died so what did that mean? Dreams are great material for writing. Pay attention to your dreams.

Joy’s book On the Edge is £7.50 (+ £1.00 post and packaging). Signed copies are available and can be obtained via email at joywinkler@sky.com and there is more information at www.joywinkler.co.uk

Young Writers Congratulations to Chloe Mather for winning first prize in our Young Writers’ Competition. Editor Emma was joined by Project Worker Vik and professional writer Steve Garside for this quarter’s judging. The entries from All Souls Brownie troupe in Heywood entertained the judging panel with their fantastic pieces of creative writing. Well done to Kacie Grayson and Molly Redman too. Enjoy your vouchers and certificates!

Dreams It was terrible. The pain she had caused was unbearable. My dreams had been shattered and her wise words clattered throughout my head. That night I couldn’t sleep. I tried counting sheep but it didn’t work. At last I fell into a deep snooze. My mind took me far into my imagination. All of a sudden I was on a big posh cruise. We soon arrived on land. I felt like I could do anything, like I was in command! There was no sign of Skye or Rhona (the two bullies from school). They told me that dreams were lame. “Now who’s to blame?!” I shrieked to the sky. In dreams you can do anything, without a rating from your friends. You can let your imagination run wild, like me, I’m a real wild child. So go on, open the door and let your dream free! © Chloe Mather, aged 10

Horse Riding When I grow up I’d like to go horse riding and be very professional. It’s making me obsessional. I love galloping and trotting. It’s very good when you’re stopping. All the lovely names. Horses also like playing games.

Readers’ Competition Congratulations to Julia McClay for this imaginative insight into Alice’s world.

Alice In Wonderland really pulls you into a dream world. It has all the elements of reality in a bizarre twisted way. It’s a new pair of eyes for exploring the world mixed with hidden symbols to let you know it was only a dream. The pocket watch could symbolize hypnotism, a subconscious state or an alarm clock because the rabbit is running late and the clock wakes you up. The cat appearing and disappearing signifies a cat nap to me and when the caterpillar’s pipe makes the letters foggy this speaks of the state between being fully awake to sleepy when things aren’t crystal clear.

My dream to get a puppy I want a puppy It would be a nice Shih Tzu And be called Bacon And be cute and cheeky And would be a Chubby boy © Molly Redman, aged 8

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This book sends you into a hypnotic dream-like trance that you won’t want to wake up from. Filled with dreams, nightmares, questions and puzzle solving in the most surrealist way possible (or should I say not possible?) The most important message in this book is the Happy Unbirthday sequence. When your world is upside down and there’s no order in it no matter what cards you have been dealt, try and celebrate each day and make it special whether its your birthday or not. So have a good day and have sweet dreams. © Julia McClay, Middleton

Writers’ Competition

2nd

1st

Congratulations to Sarah Lucas for this imaginative winning piece.

A Wish to Dream

Dream Diary Shreds of paper falling from the burning twin towers; for a moment she thought it was snow. Her son’s primary school, only there are beds where the tables should be. Scribbled notes, groggy in the middle of the night. An effort to capture the image before it fades into oblivion. I keep the smudge of ink when she is fooled to think her mum is still alive and I feel her blush as she is kissed by the man at work in a way that her husband hasn’t for years. I can tell when she has had more than one glass of wine or when she is anxious and doesn’t want to wake. I look like an ordinary blue exercise book but I hold her secrets. I journey with her to that other sleeping world where she can feel more alive. © Sarah Lucas, Leigh

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I’m not asleep, not tired, just sad…………. wish I could sleep, then I could dream. Dream of how things used to be - not now. No sleep, no dreams, no you. Some day, one year I’ll give up daydreaming and find a way to sing, would love to sing, to live again and sleep again and dream. Maybe tomorrow my dreams will be. But you will never be back to share them with me. So I’ll see you in my dreams. I’m not singing………yet………….. Wish I could dream. © eMA, Hoddlesden

If you want to be in with a chance of winning, enter our Co-operation competitions on page 54.

Competition

What’s Going On

For the Readers Our next issue of Scribble is on the theme of

CO-OPERATION.

To win a £15 book token and a copy of Chanje Kunda’s Selected Poems, just tell us which dream team you would be in if you could choose from any book. It may be your favourite children’s adventure like Swallows and Amazons, or an Enid Blyton, it may be your favourite team of detectives, or you might have read an autobiography of your favourite footie team. Any of these and more - we want to hear about the the teams that have inspired you!

Competition

For the WRITERS As our next issue of Scribble is on the theme of

CO-OPERATION we want you to write about working together, in harmony for a shared goal. It can be about working in harmony for the greater good, a sports team working together or family life and the tensions which can ensue! Whatever the context, we look forward to hearing your stories and poems. The winning entry will receive a £20 book token and a ‘Go away I’m writing’ mug. The runner up will receive a £20 book token, and both will be published in the next issue of Scribble. Deadline for both: Friday 31st August 2012 Only pieces on the theme of co-operation will be in with a chance of winning. Please keep entries below 150 words. What are you waiting for?

Please send all entries to: Scribble c/o Tell Us Another One Cartwheel Arts, 110 Manchester Street, Heywood OL10 1DW t: 01706 361300 e: emma@cartwheelarts.org.uk

Why not join us for the next free monthly Story Groups? Full details at www.tellusanotherone.org Just Poets ‘Another Open Poetry Night’ run by Just Poets takes place at the The Baum, 33-37 Toad Lane, Rochdale, the second Sunday of every month at 7.30pm. It’s free. For more info call Norman on (01706) 670829. Cartwheel Arts proudly presents Tell Us Another One Wednesday 28th November, 7.30-10pm at The Met, Bury. An evening of poetry performances from Tony Walsh, Dominic Berry, Helen Clare and many more. For tickets go to: http://themet.biz/event/tell_us_another_one/1431/ or call box office on 0161 761 2216 Open Mics • Write Out Loud’s fantastic open mic night at Ring O’Bells, St Leonard’s Sq, Middleton, every fourth Sunday at 7pm • Weaving Words is the second Monday of each month, 5.30pm at Rochdale Central Library Lexicon Saturday 29th September, 11am-4.30pm. Music, poetry, dance and drama performances - a family event at Touchstones, the Esplanade, Rochdale. All welcome. Once More with Meaning A monthly poetry night with readings from open-micers and guest poets. First Sunday of every month, 7.30pm at The Met, Bury (entrance through Automatic). £2 (£1 concs) Tickets on the door only. Guests appearing are: • Sunday 2nd September : Ben Mellor and Alabaster DePlume • Sunday 7th October : Rosie Garland and Dominic Berry • Sunday 4th November: Winston Plowes and Rod Tame • Sunday 2nd December : Steve Garside and Jo Bell Bury Light Night - 19th October, 6pm till late - join us for performances by our poets in the magical poetry teepee. Head for Bury town centre - and see #burylightnight on Twitter!

C Find us on Facebook: Cartwheel Arts (look for the blue hand!) Follow us @cartwheelarts Youtube: Cartwheelartsonline Scribble c/o Tell Us Another One Cartwheel Arts, 110 Manchester Street, Heywood OL10 1DW t: 01706 361300 f: 01706 361400 e: emma@cartwheelarts.org.uk w: www.cartwheelarts.org.uk www.tellusanotherone.org This book is made from 100% recycled paper

design & print: www.tyme design.com