Details of the challenge itself can be found below, and also at http://www.indiegogo.com/100-poem-challenge
We spent biology lessons in summer months
exploring rock pools. Prefect ties to hold
our hair up. Fishing for pound coins
as though they're wishing wells. Instead
claimed witch hair, wet ankle socks.
Salt living under finger nails.
On the 5th and 6th November 2011, I wrote 100 poems in 48 hours to raise money for EEC International, a charity who fund research into EEC Syndrome [a condition I have], especially eye sight problems to do with gene p63. It is likely that people who have EEC Syndrome will lose their sight. If a cure could be found for this then it would benefit thousands of people [not just those with EEC] worldwide.
All proceeds from the sale of these poetry collections will go to EEC International [that's £8.60 per sale after printing costs].
This is a limited print run of 200, with a cover designed by Greg McLeod [also illustrating Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops]. They are numbered, and signed. £10, plus postage.
It's printed high quality, 52 pages, and contains all of the poems from the challenge. If you liked the poems and you'd like a physical copy of all of them, then this is for you.
PAMPHLETS: SOLD OUT
[If you'd like to order more than one copy, or you don't have a paypal account/paypal isn't working, then drop me an email]
[Bear in mind, if you're buying for Christmas presents, that these are being posted from the UK. I will have the pamphlets by mid-week, and will be posting them out to you straight away.]
In those days we'd sleepwalk.
It was easier for us to see the city that way.
The daytime gave us kitchen steam,
flour tilting like November snow. At night
we'd trudge through gardens
that our house had never seen.
We would run and cup non-existent light.
Mostly, we dressed up as birds. Mary's favourites
were the leather swans. Black feathers in her bedsheets
and a zip up to her neck. We'd walk
together and in lines -
our wings hooping every lamppost.
In the mornings we'd bathe our swollen feet. Inch
our claws along the frozen tiles -
make-believe that we could fly again.
[tag word: SNOW]
Any questions, please feel free to email me.