Please scroll on down for the latest poetry news and events.
If you write poetry and live in Exmouth or nearby, and if you would like some of your own poetry to feature here, do please get in touch - email john.hunt@gmx.co.uk . Below here are poems from four local poets - Jennifer Keevill, Jenny Johnson, Barbara Hunt and Roger Homer, plus details about another local poet - David Woolger (just scroll on down).
Contents
The next poetry event is Poetry and Jazz at the Bicton Inn, Exmouth after National Poetry Day. It's on Friday 3 October 2025 from 1.00 pm to 3.00 pm.
And take a look at our Exmouth Arts Facebook Group to see the latest news and events - https://www.facebook.com/groups/exmoutharts
If you know of any poetry news or events which you would like to see featured here, please email john.hunt@gmx.co.uk
The most recent poetry event was Poetry and Jazz at the Bicton Inn, Exmouth on Wednesday 6 August with local poets Roger Homer, Barbara Hunt, Jenny Johnson and Jennifer Keevill. See the poster below for further details.
Local poets Roger Homer, Jenny Johnson and Jennifer Keevill performed in the Words tent in the Manor Gardens at this year's Exmouth Festival on 12 July.
There was a Poetry & Afternoon Tea event at Exmouth Library on 21 March 2025 to celebrate World Poetry Day where local poets Roger Homer, Barbara Hunt, Jenny Johnson, Jennifer Keevill, David Woolger and Maslen Georger read some of their poems. More details and the links to an audio recordings are below.
On last year's National Poetry Day on 3 October 2024, Jennifer Keevill talked to BBC Upload's Catri Fox about her book 'The Estuary and the Sea', a collection of poems about the Exe estuary and the Devon coastline. You can hear a five-and-a-half minute extract on BBC Upload by clicking or tapping here or on the image below - https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/p0jvlvp1
It was an evening of poetry (and music) at The Grove on Thursday 4 July 2024. It was the launch of Jennifer Keevill's poetry book 'The Estuary and the Sea' (see below). She read some of the poems from her book, and two other local poets read too - Jenny Johnson and David Woolger. https://www.exmouthjournal.co.uk/news/24383589.discover-exmouth-via-poetry-jennifer-keevills-new-book/
To listen to audio recordings of this World Poetry Day event, click or tap on these links:
Website - https://www.stairwellbooks.co.uk/product/estuary-and-the-sea/
LiteratureWorks - https://literatureworks.org.uk/writer/keevill/
Photos above by Jennifer Keevill
Photos above and below by Jean Holden
THE CRUISE SHIPS
They arrived in August, bringing a touch of glamour
and disbelief to the summer season:
two sleeping giants suddenly on the horizon.
We were amazed and baffled by their presence.
They were redundant, we were told, but still performed
manoeuvres daily with a skeleton crew.
Tour boats, like lilliputians, laid on special trips
to see them towering above,
their many decks rose up like beanstalks in a fairy tale.
Another ship arrived and soon their numbers grew.
All through September cruise ships came and went
like lovers’ quarrels, some sulking out at sea
while others guarded jealously the cliffs
of Babbacombe and Teignmouth and Torbay.
At night they were spectacular,
ghost ships lit up like giants’ palaces,
their lights shone through our darkness
as the nights drew in.
One day there will be passengers again
and they’ll return to more exotic destinations.
When the pandemic ends.
But until then, perhaps they will watch over us.
Jennifer Keevill
You can hear Jennifer Keevill reading her poem by clicking or tapping here: The Cruise Ships
Website - https://www.jennyjohnsondancerpoet.net/
CARTOON
Home from hospital with a new hip –
with Arnica Montana on my bruises and swellings –
I sleep fitfully….
It is noon in the village: I recognise the place
by its various gables and chimneys,
by the pinks of its paving stones.
The hurdy-gurdy resounds before I observe it:
gliding into view is a childhood float
complete with its cartoon cast.
A plastic rabbit with an oval face
and a pompous voice
climbs high above the rest.
I feel so uneasy about this buck
that I cannot speak. Half awake by now,
I register the pain in my bones:
how it throbs in time to the music.
At regular intervals, the buck’s head sinks
into the huge, blueing dewlap –
only to emerge with a sickening judder….
I try to wake fully but am led towards a dwarf cottage
where the cartoon menagerie waits for its feast.
I listen to the woman with the ebony hair
that sticks out from her temples.
She resembles one of those monochrome gables –
is entirely unaware that I will occupy her psyche….
The music stops: the rabbit responds with a fattened yawn.
My pain gone, I anticipate nothing but food.
A straw man limps past.
I glance out of the lattice window
in time to see the raven poised on a gatepost.
A clock strikes. I am brought back to the otherlife,
knowing that my keywords – little, and slow –
are ones that I like.
Jenny Johnson
First published in Anthology of Poems for GreenSpirits
Jenny Johnson is a published poet who loves sharing her work with an audience and is interested in taking part in charity events as well as those where payment is possible. Please see her website - www.jennyjohnsondancerpoet.net - for a sample of her poetry.
Artist - Antony Wootten
When will it be?
When shall we meet again for tea?
Please let me know when you'll be free,
And if you fancy something light
I'll bake a sponge the previous night.
But if you're in a downbeat mood
And needful of some comfort food,
We'll have jam tarts and brownies too
Left soft so they're not hard to chew.
So please get back in touch with me
Suggesting when the date might be,
To have our cup of tea and cake
And chew the cud for old times' sake!
Barbara Hunt
Website: https://www.homerite.art/
Rain rhythms
Night rain at wind’s whim,
rolling regal across the sky,
hunting down in seething billows,
bucks, plunges, mane-tossing,
all drunk with freedom
then melts to mist,
hangs, coils, writhes,
wringing heart for its heart-ease;
picks at windows,
scampers over,
oddly comforting …
Then, shattering on glass, brain,
jolting you from armchair thoughts,
comes thicker, faster,
lashing house facades
till ripped away, it tears off,
swept against the racing moon.
Roger Homer