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The Book Bag: The Oasis by Charles Lang

Welcome back to The Book Bag. I hope you’ve had a poetic week.

This week has been busy with editing, submissions, August’s Poetic Voice feature being launched, the remarkable Rishi Dastidar. I also had one of the loveliest rejection letters I’ve ever had (although I did make the shortlist for consideration which is an achievement in itself). At home we celebrated Brody’s 2nd Birthday – he enjoyed his salmon lunch! We also took a trip to Stanton Gardens and Nursery, Bide-A-Wee Garden near Morpeth and the tremendous Fieldhead Farm to pick wildflowers. We also had some time to relax and harvest the last of the new potatoes that we enjoyed with some tapas.

On top of that, I’ve been reading;

The Oasis

  • Poet: Charles Lang
  • Press: Skein Press

I picked up my copy of The Oasis at the Len Pennie event at Jesmond Library a couple of weeks ago – the Poetry Book Society was selling several titles and I went for this – ( I have a connection to the city it’s based in. My maternal Grandfather and his family were originally from Glasgow where this is set). So let’s dive in, also the playlist has returned…

One of Charles Lang’s great strengths is his humour. The opening piece ‘The Chase’ had me reliving my youth, laughing at myself through the poem. ‘Stickers’ had me laughing too, such an authentic poem – I once completed a panini album apart from a handful of stickers in a hospital bed when I was about 12. The use of Glaswegian dialect reinforces the humour especially when reading out loud and realising that your Scot’s accent needs more work.

Glasgow is a city much like Newcastle; built on the backs of working-class families. A key theme throughout is that of strength of character and resilience in the face of challenges. ‘Glasgow Sonnets’, a sequence of sonnets paints the city with respect and authenticity. The collection’s title poem ‘The Oasis’ spotlights the sense of community which is present in the majority of working-class cities. Then in ‘Disturbia’ we are treated to the grit of a city at night.

A theme that’s explored terrifically well is masculinity, a subject that is multi-faceted especially against the backdrop of a working-class culture. Pieces including ‘Boys’ and ‘Darts’ showcase this greatly. Again, the use of dialect adds texture and dimensions to the poetry.

Imagery throughout the collection is vivid. In the poems ‘Spring’ and ‘Helen’s Bay’ familiar scenery unfolds quickly. ‘The Sabbath’ is a snapshot of a poem and is similar to a relaxing Sunday routine at The Book Bag HQ. ‘In Death of A Field’, I felt a pang of nostalgia for the ‘Rec’ me and my friends used to explore daily.

In terms of form and space, they are used in a variety of ways throughout the collection. ‘Thistles’ is a prime example, which takes over a number of pages. Much like a thistle patch taking over land. Another piece ‘A Mess’ is the same poem presented in three different ways, each with a different emphasis in the voice of the narrator.

This book will appeal to people who appreciate themes of identity, masculinity, belonging, class, city life and vivid imagery. For people who appreciate form and style, this book will appeal. For those who love dialect poetry, this will appeal. It sits comfortably in my top 10 from the year so far.

Favourite Poem:

I’ll stick to five this week but it could very well be the whole collection. ‘Lily’, ‘Nightclub’, ‘Scaffolding’, ‘The Oasis’ and ‘Birds’.

To learn more about Charles Lang, click here.

To buy The Oasis, click here.

And here’s a playlist nobody asked for but everyone really wanted;

Gerry Cinnamon – Belter
Amy MacDonald – This Is The Life
Lewis Capaldi – Wish You The Best
Chvrches – Over
Simple Minds – Don’t You
Travis – Flowers In The Window
Deacon Blue – Dignity
Texas – Black Eyed Boy
Primal Scream – Rocks

One More Thing…

There’s still tickets available for the launch of Beautiful Little Fools on Tuesday 5th August 2025. Grab them here.

And Another…

Last week I mentioned the new substack ‘We Are The Choir; Poetry of Witness’. This week one of my pieces will be featuring. ‘Non-Hazardous Product’ is a poem on the destruction of a river and the commodification of water.

And Another…

Full House Literary are open for Submissions from 1 August to 20th August 2025. Details here.

And Finally…

The Black Cat Poetry Press have a competition with the theme ‘Turning Points’ open until 30th September 2025. The brief is broad, more details here.

Next Week’s Read

  • Title: Vanishing Point
  • Poet: Colin Bancroft

Take it easy and stay poetic, I’ll catch you next week.

Paul

The Book Bag – The Keeper of Aeons by Matthew M.C. Smith

Welcome back to The Book Bag. Last week, I enjoyed Damien B. Donnelly’s Back From Away.

This week, I’ve submitted a poem to the Starbeck Orion #NotAdvent edition (accepting submissions until 16th December 2024 on departure, disappearance, abandonment, withdrawal, exodus, evacuation, absence, Extinction Event. submit – you know you want to, details here), done some Christmas shopping, made a delicious fruitcake and got valuable feedback on my writing plans. Among all that I’ve been reading;

The Keeper of Aeons

  • Author: Matthew M.C. Smith
  • Press: Broken Spine

I’ll start by saying that Matthew is a huge figure in the poetry community. He is a publisher extraordinaire through Black Bough Poetry and the architect of Top Tweet Tuesday on Twitter/X, where a community of poets can share poetry and receive weekly feedback from guest hosts and peers.

He is also a workshop facilitator, a campaigner to return The Red Lady of Paviland and Paviland relics to Swansea, an open mic host, a Poetry Party organiser, a mentor, an editor, and, most importantly of all, a genuinely top man who celebrates others’ successes and encourages people to do well. He is one of the people who have had a positive influence on my poetry for which I’m truly grateful.

The Keeper of Aeons takes the reader through space, time, myth, pop culture, the marvel of Welsh landscapes and beyond. The scale of the collection is introduced immediately in the poem ‘Astronaut’ followed by ‘Aeons’ in which past, present and future clash in marvellous sensory descriptions.

As an advocate for imagism through Top Tweet Tuesday and Black Bough Poetry, it is unsurprising that Wales’s vivid, rugged and sometimes dark landscapes are described in such incredible detail. Poems and prose including Mynydd Drummau / Drummau Mountain, ‘Henrhyd Falls / Annwn’  and ‘Sweyne’s Howes’ treat us to explorations of glorious places.

We are treated to nostalgia in ‘Fixing the Hyperdrive’, a piece that pulls us into the family home and the receipt of a Millennium Falcon. References to parma violets  (the most underrated sweet there is) the newsreaders of the era, and obviously a catalogue of Star Wars characters, but the star of the poem is undoubtedly Uncle David. 

The romantic in me admires the inclusion of some exceptional love poetry, notably in ‘Ancient Navigations’ a poem that guides the reader on a road trip around the countryside, and ‘Reunion’, a poem about Penelope and Odysseus reuniting (The Odyssey is my favourite of the epic poems).

In the poem Towards Night: from The Space Station, the question of human progress being too rapid and the potential aftereffects. Again, razor-sharp imagery and language throughout. 

Buy this collection. It’s visceral, thought-provoking, philosophical and clever. Also, it depicts Wales so beautifully and the next time I visit, I’ll have an itinerary as long as my arm. You could describe Matthew as the twenty-first-century RS Thomas.

Favorite Poem:
Reunion. Followed by Ancient Navigations, then The Blue Hour. 

One More Thing… 

I’ve already mentioned Matthew is a campaigner for returning the Red Lady of Paviland to Wales. More information on this campaign can be found here; https://x.com/PavilandFutures and the illustrated pamphlet Paviland: Ice and Fire  (currently on sale at a reduced price) can be found here; https://www.amazon.co.uk/Paviland-Ice-Fire-Matthew-Smith/dp/B0BRSG6ZLF 

And Another…

As stated earlier, Matthew is also the man behind Black Bough Poetry. You can learn more about him and Black Bough here; https://www.blackboughpoetry.com/  


And Finally… 

If you’re free on Thursday 12th December 2024, the super-talented Louise Longson is hosting a poetry event on Zoom. Called Human / Nature, the poems explore a sense of place and space. I am one of the readers alongside a stellar array of poets and tickets can be snapped up on the following link for free: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/human-nature-poetry-readings-exploring-a-sense-of-place-and-space-tickets-1094310144099 

The Book Bag will be closed for the next few weeks but don’t fear it will return on 5th January 2025. Thank you for delving into The Book Bag with me in 2024.

Drop a comment and let me know what you’re reading plans over Christmas. I’ll be reading the Black Bough Christmas/Winter Anthology, and this book from Hedgehog Poetry Press which I’m in.

Take it easy, stay poetic and have a very merry Christmas,

Paul

Ascent

This time
the climb felt easier
the incline didn’t seem to stretch for a year
my legs keeping feeling without force.

This time
my dewy eyes were due to a biting wind
     rather than the noose of grief
that swallowed the air from my body
           and the right words from my lips
like the last time.

And this time our hands held gentler
and it wasn’t to do with the new gloves
we are stronger now.

I Can’t Believe It, I Came 3rd!

On Sunday (Halloween), I entered Black Bough Poetry’s #BBMicro2 contest.

The premise and rules were to create an original 4-line poem about Autumn or Halloween, post it on twitter using the above hashtag.

There was a panel of judges working throughout the day, all of whom are really talented poets.

A shortlist was announced on Monday and that’s when I got the first shock! I had made the shortlist! I couldn’t believe it as I’d read some of the other entries and I thought they were outstanding.

On Tuesday evening, the winners were announced. I came in 3rd. I will be celebrating this achievement at the weekend with my wife. It hasn’t really sunk in because I never imagined I’d get anywhere near the shortlist or finalist. It has given me a lot more self-belief in my writing! Hard work pays off.

You can see all the winners on by visiting @blackboughpoems on twitter. Or visit their website (blackboughpoems.com) to view the current books and anthologies they have for sale. Their Christmas/Winter edition has just been released and has some stunning artwork alongside incredible poetry.

Take It Easy,

Paul

Autumn & I

I welcome Autumn
as she drapes me
in a blanket of bronze and straw-gold
whispering seductive sweet promises of
late lavender sunrises
and delicious red sunsets
she mentions velvet night-skies flecked with tiny diamonds
and an occasional silent symphony by the Northern Lights
even the rain softens under her presence
guiding acorns to ground
while winged sycamores float safely down
and when the wind wraps itself around her
it whistles happily
carrying her scent of blackberry and pear
feeding my nostalgia of years gone by
everything about Autumn is chaos
everything about Autumn is just so
I long for her and her embrace to return
by the time Winter shakes my hand
with his icy fingers.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem , I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave any comments you may like.

Take It Easy,

Paul

Reincarnate

The last of the dahlias
were picked last week
ruby red, imperial, majestic
they ruled the garden
so to let them drown
in the relentless October rain
would have been sacrilege
instead, we slipped them into a glass-vase coma
keeping them alive
until scarlet turned to rust
and petals slipped away
and we were ready to say our farewells

softened stems were carried
and placed among the compost pile
so memories of their life
can grow a new family of flora
and their majesty return.

———

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. Please feel free to have a look around my site for more of my work.

Take It Easy

Paul

The Bench At The Harbour

We sat under a steady autumn sky
watching the tiny acts of rebellion
as young clouds broke away from old
grey from white, white from grey
and the sun threw firecrackers
at the surface of the sea
silent, straw-gold crackling amid the calm
we stole glances from each other
as the tender harbour breeze
kisses our cheeks turning us blush-pink
the terns and gulls played tag
swooping too close to earth
that the seagrass stole some feathers
and – as nature misbehaved all around us
I softly gripped your hand
knowing you’d never let me go
because I was falling in love with you even more
and this falling will go on forever
like the marble-blue horizon

– under the steady
autumn
sky.

Thanks for taking time to read my poem, I hope you enjoyed it. While you’re here, why not check some of my other work out.

Take It Easy

Paul

The Shows

We called the travelling funfair
“The Shows”
the same way our parents did
when they arrived in The Wick
late summer excitement
that smelled of hot sugared doughnuts, flowing diesel and damp trampled grass
the air was always a kaleidoscope
of flickering lightbulbs and brightly painted plywood
shrill screams of exhiliration could be heard over a mile away
layered over a techno soundtrack
thumping with the pulses of waltzer-spun teens
and kids riding the ghost train anticipating the supersoaker squirt on exit
sometimes I liked to play the bandits
tuppence to ten-pence a go
so nothing to lose really
the games were good to –
one night I hooked six banana-yellow ducks
and walked home with six goldfish
struggling to hold the punch balloon and pink-pillow candy floss in my other hand
it was a great time to be alive
amongst crowded smiles and double denim
spending my paper round and pocket money like fun was going out of fashion
and just the other day
I saw an internet flyer
“The Shows” are back this year
travelling up and down the coast
and although I’ll not see them
I can taste the air –

the flavour of excitement.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem and feel free to check out some of my other writing.

Take It Easy,

Paul

Wetland Character Building


I almost drowned once
down near the mill
swimming the current of the Coquet
three quarters of the way across
my legs lost power
against the undertow
I’m lucky Peck kept his eyes on me
as the river reeds
wrapped around ankles
my head bobbing up and down
like a braeburn on bonfire night
and the rest of the boys
jumped back in
like working-class Hasselhoffs
and pulled me to the side
they were much stronger swimmers than me

a quick rest and pat on the back
spitting up some of the river
then swigging back
some calming Carling
the realisation – dawned on me –
I had to swim back
facing a new fear head on
because backstroke was no good
I’m lucky I’ve got such great mates
we swam back together
like geese fly
    – in formation –
reaching the riverbank’s safety
and although my swimming didn’t improve that day
my character did.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem, an autobiographical piece of my younger days.

Hope you liked it and if you did, feel free to leave a comment.

Take It Easy

Paul x

Pre-Dawn Swimming

As teenagers
we swam the river at 4 in the morning
the cold pink pre-dawn watched us flail
our underage drunken legs unsteady in the calm water
feeble attempts to wash away the taint
of cheap vodka, value cola and sleeping bag sourness

we were like calves
breaking away from the protection of our parents
arrogant and unwise to the world we thought we knew best
but even the young Shorthorns upstream had more sense than us
because they knew better than to bathe in others shit

I don’t know whose idea it was
for all of us to jump in fully clothed
probably Dave’s – he was partial to a plan
– and vomit
he was a puppet king of sorts
living in the shadow of the castle

we were a sight
walking the back lanes to drip dry
crumpled kids carrying crumpled tents and crushed up sleeping bags
stumbling home without words spoken
the only sound heard was the clanging of dragging pegs and poles
chittering out a slurred morse code that forces a gang of grins
a simple message
– ‘Same again next week’.




Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. I love hearing your comments and feedback.

Also feel free to share.

Take it easy,

Paul