‘Throughout ‘The Sounds That Men Make’ Allan Gaw, like a ethnographic cartographer, maps the difficult, often treacherous and at times absurd landscape of contemporary masculinities. Inhabiting diverse personae and positions, including alien observers, he navigates the sensitivities and conundrums, the bonds and the rivalries, contradictory role models, the inherited behaviours and prejudices, internal conflicts, the joys, desires, the fears, along with the silences and struggles to overcome expectations and stereotypes. Gaw presents a topography of masculine voices, asking which we identify with, which we recognise, which we react against, and in doing so opens up a much-needed discussion on what it means to be a man in the 21st Century.’
(Bob Beagrie, writer)
£12.00
The three poets in this collection have a lot in common. They’re gritty, tough, their observation is born of personal experience, not all of it pleasant. That is recommendation enough but there are many moments too of pure revelation. Donna Campbell’s pearls brimming with moonlight that are the bi-product of pain, the stark beauty of Lesley Benzie’s poem about a father’s death ‘Fan she an her sester met their faither’s unbent gaze…’ and Linda Jackson picking up ‘petals of words from smart-dressed lovers’. Such simple beauty is not easily achieved. At its best poetry can be both empathetic and transformative. This is it, at its best.
(Hugh McMillan, poet)
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Linda Devlin’s Clota is a bold rush at the world, like the collection’s namesake: goddess of the River Clyde. A mirrored ball reflecting numerous versions of ourselves and the spaces we occupy, this collection invites the reader to look closer, question ‘laundered thoughts’ and admit the dark truths of damage received or delivered. There is an undeniable fragility but, like the river, currents of strength run deep and fast. Renewal’s All I can do is add my fragment to the whole lingers long after reading. (Morag Anderson, poet)
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5 new poems by the acclaimed poet, Graham Fulton, work by Charlie Gracie, Magi Gibson, Jim Ferguson and many others. A truly engaging anthology.
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If you want your poetry as a lulled accompaniment to whatever you happen to be doing - don't read Jo Gilbert. If you like your Doric couthie and couth, paired with a wee sepia photo - don't read Jo Gilbert. But if you need poetry that makes you 'Get aff that fuckin horse. Now!' , and opens your 'kohl clarted eyes' to garr ye greet and laugh aloud...then read Jo Gilbert. And what a titular poem. Three lines, punching hard with every word. What a debut.
(Beth McDonough, writer)
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