Dithering Does Local (& Goes Global!)
Our involvement in the Bournemouth Writing Festival Flash Fiction and Poetry Competition this year has felt like a big turning point for Dithering Chaps.
We are proud and honoured to be mentioned in the same breath as this festival which, although it is only in its second year, is building from its local base to become a national fixture. Dominic Wong, the Festival Director, tells us that people are buying tickets to come and join us in April from all over the UK. And, of course, we will be there too.
It gives us a warm glow that, in our efforts to promote the competition, we showcased our respective brands to a global audience: we received entries from the ROI, the USA, Canada, NZ, Australia, Saudi Arabia, India… and many more countries!
And this network of writing has its hub in beautiful Dorset.
One great example locally is to be seen in the writing workshop groups that have sprung up under the BWF banner, through contacts the Festival has developed with local libraries.
So it was no surprise when David, our Associate Editor and first published poet, was invited to attend a writing group – Words for Wellbeing - set up and run by prolific local poet, CW Blackburn in Bournemouth Library.
While they were waiting for us to arrive, the group had been playing a ‘spot the poet’ game as each new person entered the library. Out of breath, papers spilling from his document folder, ink stains on his fingers … they had David clocked from the moment we set foot inside.
David had been asked to run a writing exercise and, inspired by the loss of the Sycamore Gap Tree, it was themed around the folklore and history of our native trees. A bit of argy-bargy about who got which tree before it was pens out and heads down - letting the sap rise…
The quiet hush of creativity was punctuated periodically by little giggles of happiness. This was David, who could be heard muttering, rather immodestly, “Genius idea…” or “Kerching!”. Gena, our Lead Editor, who trained as a librarian, was well-placed to shush him back into line…
The best part came during feedback-and-share, when we got to hear all the poems and ideas for poems that each member had created in only fifteen minutes. Words for Wellbeing is such a supportive group, so there was warmth, encouragement and hand-click applause. (Thank you, Gena, for keeping David in check!)
Dithering Chaps is all about publishing new work, so we’re delighted to share three original poems from the session.
CW Blackburn came up with a hazel haiku:
excited for spring -
the sweet hazel tree dangles
its quivering tails
Phoenix Ford channelled this densely-budded blackthorn-based mysticism:
Blackthorn houses spirits of the ancestors
Guarded by fairies to warn, repel evil spirits
Ability to purify the blood from the black bark of its bare bones
A witch’s tree connected by communication and inscriptions of Ogham through
wands and staffs
While the scarlet black saps unpin bridge divide spiritual and physical realms
Extend all corners of the earth and roots delve into the underworld of sacrifice
Interconnect and shelter all realms Celtic, druid and Vikings alike to symbolise
presence of various myth trials to extend all corners of their earth.
A lustrous apple pearl so sacred burning ash before regeneration concoction
through time and space.
And Scruff the Dyslexic Poet shared work that, like Mozart’s scores, came straight from mind to page, fully-formed.
Scruff said, “At the writing group, we were invited to write something about trees, and I came up with this and the others looked pleased, it’s called …
Can we save this planet, by planting a tree?
If I was a tree, I think I'd be an oak,
I'm tall and strong, I'm that sort of bloke,
I'm more than happy to stand on my own,
while trying to get some wisdom shown.
If you're planting a tree, it does need some care,
if you let it die, that wouldn't be fair,
can we save this planet, by planting a tree?
I will give a go, and I'll do that for free.
I will plant an acorn into a large pot,
while hoping it might start growing a lot,
I'll put it in the light and give it some water,
but will it grow like a son or a daughter?
If the shoots start growing out of the earth,
then I'm sure that can’t make things any worse,
it would be nice, if we all did our bit,
and stopped treating this planet like shit.
I try to be kind, I don't like being mean,
but I wish more people would learn to be green,
trees are cool, they help other things live,
it’s wonderful how they seem to give.
I don't know why but I feel that trees care,
they are happy to put oxygen into the air,
don't cut down trees, we should give them some help,
and I'm sure that our kindness, will be felt.
Copyright 2024 Scruff the Dyslexic Poet.
(This poem got a public airing later that week, as Scruff was invited to perform it as part of XR Wimborne’s “Will planting trees solve the climate crisis?” event.)
As for Dithering Chaps’ David, he’s still giggling over his last line, but, well really, Gena had to tell him to make like a tree … and leave!
PS: But here it is anyway ;)
Swinging the birches
You came up here for validation: light
and love. You’d heard her say, ‘This way!’
and had a friend called Chris you’d only met
that day, whose mantra, so he told you, was
to hug yourself, hug trees! don’t beat yourself
up here… I found the Lady of the Woods.
‘This way!’ she said, again. So up I went.
(Though, I had heard a tone behind her voice
an edge, still up I went. I needed love and light.
‘I am the Goddess Tree’, she hushed, and now
I knew the timbre of her words: the one
that Dante heard when he had climbed his way
up through Inferno, Purgatory; dark wood
to light upon his earthly Paradise. I opened out
my arms, to hug the silver crispness of her bark.
But, as they closed, they closed on nothingness.
‘Poor fool,’ I heard her say. ‘You look for light
and love: but first you pay. Down on your knees!’
I knelt within those circling silver trees. Not Goddess
Tree, not Lady of the Woods. More Witch…
I raised bare buttocks up and waited for
the biting of the birch… Switch Bitch.