Showing posts with label The New Luciad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The New Luciad. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Suzi Shimwell - Featured Poem

Last week, poet Suzi Shimwell gave a wonderful guest talk and reading for first-year Creative Writing students and the public. It was one of a programme of a guest talks by writers, publishers and professionals we run throughout the year.








About Suzi
Suzi Shimwell is a free verse poet who divides her time between Leicester and Cambridge juggling a Ph.D and a career in teaching. In her free time she runs the Cambridge Free Inkers writing group and edits The New Luciad. Her poems have appeared in Agenda Broadsheet, From The Lighthouse, The New Luciad and Cake.


Below is one of the poems she read during the guest lecture.



A poem only about toothbrushes

“I can’t put toothbrushes in a poem, I really can’t!”
Sylvia Plath, Interview 30th October 1962


In this poem there will be only toothbrushes.
There is just one in the glass,
moulded in hard blue plastic with two thousand
tough nylon bristles;


there is another in the bin
under the sink.
It’s pink. 


Sunday, 29 January 2017

"Caterpillars" by Hannah Stevens

Here is a piece of flash fiction by Hannah Stevens, which was first published in The New Luciad - the literary magazine hosted by the Centre for New Writing at the University of Leicester. The New Luciad will be open for submissions again soon.

Hannah Stevens is from Leicester and is a PhD student in Creative Writing at Leicester University. She has published a short story collection called Without Makeup and Other Stories (Crystal Clear Creators, 2012) and has had stories published in Crystal Voices (2015), The New Luciad (2015) and others.


Caterpillars

They’re laughing. They think it’s all a joke. The youngest one is collecting them from the low leaves of trees. She screams when they move in her hand. The older one holds them beneath the water in the bucket with a stick. 

They are my children and they’re drowning caterpillars. I wonder if they know that these crawling things would’ve become butterflies. 

Soon, the childminder will be here. Maybe she will tell them. Maybe they will cry. 

My bags are already in the car. I have written a note that I will leave by the kettle when I go.