A brand new UK tour of poetry & performance – from Lydia Towsey, Shruti Chauhan and Jean Binta Breeze MBE

Last Three, Three…

Tomorrow, October 29th we come to the Drum in Birmingham – a theatre we’ve both been to and performed at before individually, so know to be wonderful.

The next day, on October 30th we’re in Northampton – working with the wonderful BMR SRP.

Then on Monday, November 2nd we have our last date with Loughborough University in association with LU Arts.

How can this second part of our tour be nearly at an end?!

Knee deep in some very exciting developments with the show, we’ll post again soon but for now really wanted to share a small sample of work arising from the workshops we’ve been taking round the country too.

If you are considering coming to any of our remaining dates, it might interest you to know that each of the shows will be accompanied by a such a workshop. To book a place, free in all cases, contact the respective venue (see tour dates, linked to above). Now for those amazing pieces, with great thanks to three talented writers who produced them…

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BRIGHTON/ Neighbour/ Patricia Childerhouse

I move into a quiet street.
Each night at 3am your dog
barks for (what feels like) hours
outside my bedroom window.
I put a politely worded note
through your door. You write
a complaint about my clematis
that’s rampant over your wall.
(Your backyard shows a love
of bricks and concrete slabs
no plants at all.)

Each night the dog barks
and I lie awake, and so I try
another note. You ring my bell,
introduce Queenie who wags her tail.
“She’s a rescue dog,” you say,
“not young. She can’t get through
the night without a pee.”
(I know that condition well.)
“She has to have a dog-flap,”
you say, “then cats upset her.”
I stroke Queenie’s willing nose,
sleep deep that night, and
in the morning trim the clematis.

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SHREWSBURY/ Home / Penelope Simpson.

is where we open hands
no need to close up doors or fists,
unlock, unwind, unravel.
Holding hands together
on the sofa, passing
love from hand to hand.

Home is kitchen heat and water,
chop and cook it, plate and clatter,
hands pass salt
around a table.

Home is sleeping
soft together, now and now
and tomorrow,
falling gentle always
home

is waking in the morning
sun in window,
love is sunshine
morning breaking darkness,
waking hearts.

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LONDON/ Home is/ Charmaine Brown

Home is my body wrapped tightly in my arms as I embrace my spirituality. My body is a temple so sacred that it gives me great comfort.

Home is the blissful feeling of being at one with myself and God.

Home is the joy of being with my Riah ‘Boom Boom’ and Gasi ‘Goo Goo’, two cherubs with infectious smiles, mischievous and entertaining, whilst at the same time full of fun.

Home is being in the comfort of my bed, wrapped in an exquisite duvet, lying on my nugabest heated infrared mattress.

Home is living in peace and quiet as I watch the crazy world go by.

Home is…

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