One Last Tango
Carol McKay is a storyteller supreme. She draws you in with these poems, into a world view that is at once calm and incisive and punchy. Her reflections on family weave from jeopardy to love to loss – and always back to love. Much of her work here is everyday: tiny acts, unseen and unrewarded; Remembrance Day in a supermarket aisle; the way Arran disappears in cloud. She is immediate, writes with such clarity, and her poems are beautiful.
(Charlie Gracie, poet)
£10.00
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Fessen'What a welcome second collection from Lesley Benzie. Fessen is a total delight. She melds her native N-east Scots with English in writing which is a keen observation of both the outside world and a close scrutiny of human behaviour and relationship. Her language is muscular, strong, yet tender.
She is interested in everything we know of life...walking on the high cliffs of Catterline remembering Joan Eardley, guillemots...perched on tiny ledges facin intae the scarp/like they hiv come tae worship/at the wailin waa...burnt umber plumage/like oiled velvet...and that final homage... a wee prayer for the coastline/that pressed itsel intae Joan's hairt.'
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Anthology Poets' Time
This anthology has poetry that considers a Cause in its Time, the time of Covid 19 and what time itself may mean NOW.
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Wanderlust Women
‘This is a collection by four women poets: Linda Jackson, Donna Campbell, Tracy Patrick and Lesley Benzie writing about travel and dreams…Each journey is memorably significant to the speaker and evoked in sharp and striking detail.’
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Unshackled
In this fine first collection of lyric poetry, Goldie explores the contrast between the urban experience - the ravages of post-industrial economic decline, and the liberating, rugged landscapes of Scotland, with a range of precise imagery and deft phrasing that examines the complexities of both, and the relationship between them.
We also glimpse tender family vignettes, which are all the more moving for being set against this wider historical backdrop.
Rhythm is deployed with great skill, and underscores time’s relentless onward movement in Conachair (‘Saint Kilda’s screaming cliffs and stacks,’) and in Sligrachan (‘the screams of ghosts from empty yards/through the pulsing heart of that great city’)
A very impressive debut indeed.
(A Breckenridge, poet)
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