Where were the bored teenagers, the drunks, shouting kids, people laughing, shouting into mobile phones? Stray cats. Lost dogs. Lost souls. In this city of banks, presumably there must be squads of stressy men and women in tight blue suits pushing through the crowds, busy busy busy? Where was the noise, the random, the edge?
Surrounding the wall, stubby ash and elephantine coils of Cherry Laurel gave a writhing border to the site, which, just for a moment, became an abandoned sacred grove. For some reason – the unnatural quiet perhaps – the spot felt like a Celtic ‘Thin Place’, or more accurately a broken thin place, as here it seemed, any doorway to the eternal world had been blocked by litter and forgotten.
Wherever you find yourself in Bristol, a hill will be lying in wait. South Bristol even has a whole area seemingly named in jokey reference to its steep streets – Totterdown.
My favourite though, will always be Brandon Hill – scene of public protest, fake duels, restrictive carpet beating and for a long time, hermit’s cells.
This post originally began as a rant about ‘gatekeeping’ in so-called ‘New Nature Writing’. Since then, I’ve tightened it up a little, and updated some of the links, esp. re lack of diversity in nature writing, creeping nativism and more.
As a reader some books are inevitable. This one had nagged at me for years, before finally, I plunged in and it felt like meeting an old friend.
I have three new poems up on Northern Gravy, in their 12th edition. I have an unfortunate tendency to dwell for longer on rejections than acceptances when it comes to poetry. I’m trying to change that way of thinking and to celebrate the successes. I’ve tried several times in the past two or three years…
Three of these poems, are short, poem-sketches of moments in time. Brief, lyrical, imagist observations about people and places. The fourth, is an attempt to address wider world events, the drum of bad news, war and death, which, much as I wish I could blithely ignore, I find I cannot. It isn’t pretty in the…
Skimmed past the latest bleatings from unfeasible PM Rishi Sunak this morning on a newsfeed. Apparently the UK is now subject to mob rule. Bit of a disaster if true – especially if you represent the government who’ve been in power the last 14 years and really ought not to have let this happen. What…
Four more poems, first shared via Blackbough Poetry’s Top Tweet Tuesday. The honest A-Z The honest A-Z is filled with empty pages, roads unwalked, unprinted. Areas ignored and little-known shrink, or vanish altogether. Whole postcodes are erased through lack of interest. While places you have loved, expand. Side-streets stretched into tree-lined boulevards. Market stalls, grimy corner pubs, exes’ flats, old…
Atlantic Ocean circulation nearing ‘devastating’ tipping point, study finds https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2024/feb/09/atlantic-ocean-circulation-nearing-devastating-tipping-point-study-finds
Writing poetry can be a strange and frustrating exercise. Sometimes lines, or even entire poems arrive like a kind of gift from the subconscious and you must record them on whatever comes to hand. Occasionally you might get one that feels complete from the off. Though in my experience this is rare. Even dreamlike poems,…
Three new poems: M4 at night, The next train, Moonset.
Rather than ranting on social media/shouting into the void about my frustrations with recent actions of the current Labour leadership – I was tipped over the edge by Starmer appealing to Tory Thatcher worshippers in the Telegraph – I’ve written to my local Labour MP Helen Hayes. Thought I’d share it here, on a slower,…
Four recently written poems, first shared via Blackbough Poetry’s Top Tweet Tuesday. A stunning fungi covered stump, golden Roman helmets, an attack on an iconic tree and a small French town in autumn.
A very thoughtful, considered review of my poetry collection ‘Street Sailing’ in Briefly Write. Click the link to read it on their site. ‘In ‘Street Sailing’, Matt Gilbert looks anew upon familiar streetscapes. His reader can’t not keep looking’ ‘Street Sailing’ is a puzzle with many readings and many answers. Matt Gilbert is a skilful setter,…
A poem about emotional austerity.
“a remarkable work for a first collection: thoughtful, profound, engaging, beautifully crafted, fresh”
Poetry Review: Rebel Blood Cells by Jamie Woods
A poetic-prose celebration of my local greasy spoon – The Electric Cafe. A classic of its kind. This first appeared in slightly different form within my feature on Black Bough Poetry’s Silver Branch series.
After a brilliant online launch in May, I’m having a live launch on 29th June at The Bookseller Crow, Crystal Palace.
Guests – Joe Duggan & Matthew M C Smith will both be reading, along with me.
I’ll also be interviewed about the book by Karen McCleod.
Tickets £5 – including a drink.
‘Street Sailing’ voyaging around the world. A selection of readers’ photos.
Delighted to have a poem ‘Highly Commended’ in the I Am Writing Poetry Competition. Extra special for me because it came off the back of this year’s I Am In Print Festival in Bristol. Here’s the poem… Early Walkers Two figures shimmer on the path ahead, struggling with a skittish charge, a team of walking echoes. Perhaps…
Review: The Birds, The Rabbits, The Trees by Briony Collins – shared as part of Black Bough Poetry’s Top Tweet Tuesday on Twitter to boost fellow poets.
Delighted to have a feature about ‘Street Sailing’ in Bristol 24/7′
Richly Evocative 