Vivien Jones lives in Powfoot on the north shore of the Solway estuary. She came to writing for herself, prompted by a Creative Writing course at university, after many years teaching in alternative education. A late start as a writer didn’t stop her firing a literary blunderbuss at the publishing world. She has had plays performed, a short story on Radio 4, been short-listed for the Scotsman-Orange award, acquired a Scottish Arts Council grant and so on...
The themes of her poetry are domestic; the rituals of family life, the association of food and nurture, and latterly, experimentally, the experience of making and hearing music. Hare brings together a sample of her work that ranges across her many interests and includes some flash fiction pieces. She is a regular performer of her own work, often in collaboration with musicians, and is constantly devising new programmes of poetry and dramatic material for production in arts festivals.
My friend, who knows,
says these very round pebbles
are not the work of the sea,
but the great scrapings of a glacier
that shrank away from here.
An ancient dry grinding that
happened beside the oaks
that now lie as rock in the bog.
The water that worms
through the peat to the sea,
is orange brown.
It is taking the cliff to the sea,
so that the yellow gorse
that pins the turf in place,
waves its naked roots in the air,
sketching curves on the bank
Robert Leach: 'Sharp as a stiletto, these poems show Vivien Jones casting an inquisitive eye over the small print of existence.'
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