THUNDERBOLTS AND FLASHES OF INSPIRATION

On a Friday evening, during supposedly sunny June, the heavens opened on a small band of poets making their way to the Black Country for the second Purple Patch Poetry Convention. Clutching their poetry closely to their chests, they sprinted from cars and taxis towards the welcoming light of the theatre bar, looking forward to rekindling old friendships and finally putting faces to names read in small press magazines on many occasions.

Friday night was perfect for just such a purpose. I had attended the first Purple Patch Convention back in June 1999, reading my poems to an audience for the first ever occasion and being suitably inspired to go away , write lots more and look for suitable venues to perform them. So it was therefore great to see Geoff Stevens again who, incidentally, was the first editor to accept a poem of mine, (for Purple Patch 92). I also caught up with Pam Hewitt again (archivist for Blithe Spirit, the Journal of the British Haiku Society) who was also in attendance in 1999 running a haiku workshop and whom I hold personally responsible for my near obsession with the form!

After a couple of alcoholic beverages and a lot of catching up, the rest of the evening was devoted to an open mike session, in which each poet read a maximum of two poems. This allowed an opportunity to all those who wanted it and gave a sneak preview of the quality and diversity that was in store for the remainder of the weekend. My impression was that the signs were that the weekend ahead would be both stimulating and surprising and, after a couple more sociable beverages, everyone began to drift away to their hotels and friends' settees, eagerly awaiting the weekends' entertainment.

Saturday's weather was as dramatic as Friday night had been — from torrential downpours to bright bursts of sunshine. Somehow, the climatic extremes seemed most appropriate, considering the diversity of poetry we would soon be experiencing — from rustic to comic to gritty realism. I decided to begin with the workshop on concrete poetry. Run by Tilla Brading of PQR, we were encouraged to explore different ways of presenting poetry, other than as mere words on the page. Thus, we examined poetry in situ (be it on a plaque in the middle of a wood or spanning a bridge), listened to tapes of poetry supported by sounds/musical accompaniment and viewed pages of poetry overlaid with other poetry and analysed the impact that had on the reader. After a brief discussion, we were encouraged to experiment ourselves, cutting pictures and phrases from magazines and using objects at hand to produce some very pleasing 3D and visual pieces. A most enjoyable start to the day that really could have been greatly extended, had time permitted.

The rest of the afternoon was given over to readings in the theatre and the bar and I generally flitted between the two, trying desperately not to miss too much of anything. What was particularly interesting was listening to some of the Editors of small press magazines, able to give their own work an airing for a change. What gives an added spice to this, of course, is that virtually all of the audience will have been rejected by most of these editors at some point or another! (Indeed, Sam Smith of The Journal was actually called in from his stall in order to listen to a poem he'd previously rejected. Afterwards, he good-naturedly confessed to still not liking it — the moral of the story presumably being to quit when you're behind!)

Still, I must admit to being most impressed with the poetic offerings of a number of editors, in particular Martin Holroyd of Poetry Monthly, Jeremy Hilton of Fire, Sam Smith of The Journal and, of course, Gerald England and our weekend's co-ordinator, Geoff Stevens.

Speaking of Gerald, in between the readings people were free to peruse the numerous stalls manned by small press editors selling their magazines and I can only presume that Gerald spent much of a misspent youth working on a market stall, so honed is his sales pitch! Nevertheless, having now had the opportunity to peruse my purchases at length, I still believe I had a good deal and think, perhaps, the sales pitch was pretty accurate! (Incidentally, it was also really great to finally meet Kevin Troop of The Third Half, with whom I've corresponded for quite some time — another face to a name at last!)

The evening ended with a number of highlights — an excellent slot from the Ragged Raven Press poets (all of whom were most entertaining though, for me, Bob Mee stood out) and readings by a number of well-known poets including the talented musician/poet Maureen Weldon, the always eloquent Steve Sneyd and Birmingham's Poet Laureate of last year, Simon Pitt. Simon's humorous, tongue-in-cheek style of poetry is very reminiscent of Ian McMillan and provided an interesting contrast to much of what had gone before. The evening ended with a highly polished performance from the Spouting Forth quartet who, in a shortened version of their show 'Heat' offered a generous mixture of poetry, prose and musical moments.

For those who had not yet had to begin the long journeys home before the re-commencement of reality with Monday morning, Sunday's farewell consisted of another open mike session and a Spouting Forth led discussion on the pros and cons of Arts funding to small Presses.

The Purple Patch Poetry Convention coincided with the launch of Issue 100 of Purple Patch magazine in this its 25th year. While the magazine has been a stalwart of the poetry scene since its' introduction in 1976, the Purple Patch Poetry Convention is fast acquiring the same cult status.