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The Slug, a Plea

The Slug, a Plea - a new poem As a gardener I have treated slugs as the enemy. But without slugs there would be an awful lot of rotting vegetable matter cluttering up the garden. Perhaps, I need to rethink my relationship to slugs.

Slugs. Never been a fan. As a gardener I have treated them as the enemy. But is that fair? Without slugs there would be an awful lot of rotting vegetable matter cluttering up the garden. Perhaps, as this poem suggests, I need to rethink my relationship to slugs.

The Slug, a Plea

You squash us and slice us. You bash us and dice us. It’s almost as if you don’t want us around.

We gnaw at your…

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Fish 2

Fish 2 - a new poem Years ago I wrote a scathing poem about goldfish. Latterly, I have come to think the poem does fish a disservice. This sonnet, which looks at real piscine wonders, is the act of restitution.

Some time ago I wrote a rather scathing poem about goldfish, those dull yet troubling pets. Over the years I have come to think the poem does fish a disservice. This sonnet, which looks at real piscine wonders, is the act of restitution. In the final collection (yes, I am planning one, self-published if needs be) it will sit immediately after the original poem, which is entitled ‘Fish 1’.

Fish 2

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Packet Ninja

Packet Ninja – a new poem This is a found poem with each line coming from the safety warnings to a different object. I have collected the warnings, then arranged them to make what might be a set of instructions for a ninja.

This poem has taken me nearly ten years to write, because it is a found poem: each line is a safety warning taken from the operating instructions to an object. I collected the warnings as I came across them, then arranged them to make what might be a set of instructions for a ninja on an assassination mission. The original items are listed underneath the poem.

Packet Ninja

Keep hidden and away…

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We are the Little Birds of France

We are the Little Birds of France –new poem. At almost every meal eaten outdoors in France there are little birds darting in and out to snatch fragments of food. I felt they deserved a poem.

At almost every meal eaten outdoors in France, whether a rough snack outside a tent, or lunch at one of the restaurants in the Tuileries Gardens, there are little birds darting in and out to snatch fragments of food. I felt they deserved a poem, so I wrote one, in English. Then I thought they should be commemorated in something nearer to French. Finally, I gave them a full French version – which…

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The Beetle – a Poem for Two People

The Beetle – a Poem for Two People Ah, the little beetles that occasionally land on us in summer. For some people that’s not a problem. For others, it becomes a major life event.

Ah, the little beetles and flying insects that drift around us in the summer and occasionally land on us. For some people that’s not a problem, a gentle brush off is all that is required. For others, it becomes a major life event.

(And apologies for the ‘boldness’ of one of the speakers – I don’t have the time to wrestle the wordpress blockquote out of its default italics: also, there are no…

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The Cliffs of Machu Pichu

The Cliffs of Machu Pichu – a new poem. I have never been to the Inca citadel of Machu Pichu, and very likely never will, but, by the power of  imagination, I have realised this inconsequential poem about the wild life of the area.

I have never been to the Inca citadel of Machu Pichu, and very likely never will, but, by the power of  imagination, I have realised this inconsequential poem about the wild life of the area, rather than focusing on the ‘heaps of rubble’ some of those dear to me would see.

And my apologies to those who might have been wanting to learn about this very important Inca site.

The Cliffs of Machu Pichu

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The Misfortunes of Otters

The Misfortunes of Otters - a new poem. Do you know how sensitive otters are below that fun and frolic? This poem will open your eyes to their furry torments.

Recently someone tweeted a definition they had seen for the German word schadenfreude which contained a slight but wonderful misprint. The word was mangled to mean ‘laughing at the misfortunes of otters’. To think a language might have a whole word dedicated to such a rare phenomenon. (Of course, German doesn’t, the original definition should have read ’others’). That set me thinking.

And to the…

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The Crab of Thought

Have you ever found your thoughts have some how slipped sideways from that really important topic you should be working on, to some frivolous or irrelevant thing? Here's the answer in a new poem: The Crab of Thought

Have you ever found your thoughts have some how slipped sideways from that really important topic you should be working on, to some frivolous or irrelevant thing? I have, often. It has taken me a while to work out what is going on, but here’s the answer.

The Crab of Thought

You’ll find me lurking in your mind, I am the crab of thought. I’ll make you think of what you want And not of what you ought.

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The Yorkshire Terrier

The Yorkshire Terrier – a tale of true evil and revenge wrapped in a sonnet.

Have you ever hated a dog?

Generally, dogs and I get on fine. But a few years ago there was a Yorkshire Terrier that tormented me. There was a street I had to walk down every day, and every day this wretched little dog would rush out of its garden, yapping and howling, always circling to get a bite at my heels. Being a right-thinking person, and constrained by civilisation, I tried not to kick it…

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The Narwhal and the Unicorn

The Narwhal and the Unicorn – A fresh new poem

The narwhal and the unicorn, are clearly cousins, distant-born, as each one has a single horn.

The narwhal swims in arctic seas, beneath the bergs and floes that freeze. The unicorn likes magic trees,

elves, pixies and enchanted rings, but dislikes trolls and evil things. He loves princesses, can’t stand kings.

The unicorn is very proud of his great lance; he sings aloud to draw a big, admiring…

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Discourses of the Severed Head

Discourses of the Severed Head: a suitable poem for Hallowe'en, from my collection 'Minor Monuments'.

The Severed Head: by Luke Sewell

So. It’s Hallowe’en, which seems an appropriate time to post a poem featuring a severed head.

A bit of background. The collection of mediaeval Welsh myths know as the Mabinogion includes the story of Branwen daughter of Llyr(that ‘y’ should have a circumflex, but my Mac can’t seem to manage that today). To trim the story, Brân, high king of Britain – the island of…

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Angela Carter – Three Things I Learned

Angela Carter – Three Things I Learned from the recent BBC documentary: 1. Turn up. 2. Write what you want/need to write. 3. Make the most of the writer-reader contract.

Not actually Angela Carter

So. The BBC have just shown a cracking documentary about Angela Carter (available on iPlayer until early September 2018). There’s a lot of interesting stuff in there, but three things stood out for me.

1. She wrote a lot, consistently, over a twenty-five year writing career. That may seem a strange thing to take away from her life, but I am impressed that she discovered…

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I Bet I Can Make You Laugh

#IBetICanMakeYouLaugh poems by @joshuaseigal and friends is out 9th August. A bit about that, and one of my other projects: The Night Elephant.

So. This turned up in the post yesterday: I Bet I Can Make You Laugh, poems by Joshua Seigal and friends. Turns out I must be one of Joshua’s friends, as my poem Things Could Be Worse is in there (page 103, in case your looking). The book is available from 9th August from all good bookshops (as they used to say), and on-line from Bloomsbury.

I’m grateful to Joshua Seigal for including the poem…

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Launching Minor Monuments

The launch of Minor Monuments - my first poetry collection - is on 5th July 2018 at The Holy Biscuit, Newcastle upon Tyne. Come along for poetry, video, drinks and nibbles. RSVPs appreciated.

Minor Monuments – Huw Evans

So. I have written enough poems to gather as a collection; and I have published the collection as Minor Monuments. You can find all the details – including how to buy it – on its own page.

Every new creation needs a welcome, so there will be a launch event for Minor Monumentson 5th July 2018, 7 pm – 9 pm at The Holy Biscuit, 1 Clarence Street, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, NE2…

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On bees and republicanism

It seems a good time to think on #poetry, #bees and #republicanism

Illustration from Charles Butler’s ‘The Feminine Monarchie’

We have let poetry down.

That’s a big claim when there are probably more people writing poetry now than at any other time in human history. I am not talking about quality – I do not have the data to assess whether there is proportionally more bad poetry than there used to be – but about scope, subject, ambition.

Maybe it is fairer for me…

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An herb?

Why did Stephen Sondheim write 'an herb'?

So. A last (for now) comment starting from Stephen Sondheim. I was reading his book Finishing the Hat when I come across a line which includes an herb. Well now, that brings me up short. Sondheim’s pretty hot on grammar, so I know it’s not a mistake. A few moments of reflection and I remember that in American English herb has a silent h. Nonetheless, it’s disquieting, in the same way as hearing…

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The Secret Pages: Wolf

I was not happy when I saw the wolf ahead of me, as I walked through the forest to my grandma’s house for tea. I’d heard the scary stories told by both my mum and dad: the outlook for my grandma, and for me, was very bad. I clutched my basket very tight, between the wolf and me, and wondered if I had the time to clamber up a tree. The wolf stood up, pulled off his hat and held it in his paw.…

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