Eight lines fall out of me and gather themselves and whereas normally I would put them in the oven to cook, so the chemicals react to the heat of time, by six pm I have pressed send. The poem is called Rest.   more »

I am proud to be the north west ambassador for Anthony Gormley's 4th Plinth in trafalgar Square. The Manchester Evening News covered it today.

But I maintain that if I treat any reading as “just another event” then my days are over. It would be as if the heart of what I do had been cut from its blood supply. It doesn’t matter if it is a library in Wigan or an international festival in South Africa it is never "just another event."   more »

The most outstanding for wit and downright zeitgeist poignance was by Naomi Klein in The Nation where she forms new words with reference to Hope and Obamafans. Here's the first. 'Hopeover. Like a hangover, a hopeover comes from having overindulged in something that felt good at the time but wasn't really all that healthy, leading to feelings of remorse, even shame. It's the political equivalent of the crash after a sugar high. Sample sentence: "When I listened to Obama's economic speech my heart soared. But then, when I tried to tell a friend about his plans for the millions of layoffs and foreclosures, I found myself saying nothing at all. I've got a serious hopeover."'   more »

Why have ten words when one is enough. Here it is “arghhhhhhhh”. Each morning I forget as my foot slides out of bed and finds the floor that blood will rush downwards to feed the infection. My foot erupts into a block of burning lava and I lie back on the bed chewing my forearm so not to scream.   more »

It’s 7.30am and two hundred yards from Galway airport sheep are grazing in the field. The sun is scorching the sky. It’s a beautiful sunrise.   more »

I meet Geroid MacLochlainn. He’s a good man and poet and we have met sporadically over this past five years. I have read with him variously in Ireland. The last place was Kilkenny. He once flew kites with my uncle on the beach. It’s an enjoyable reading.   more »

At 10am towards the end of the press conference I am called - the finale. I read my poem and leave immediately. It was part of the plan that I would rush off. But I actually needed to rush off. It's all strangely perfect.    more »

I haven’t to date talked in the blog about books I read or my creative process. It’s extremely private to me. I am never without a book nor notepad to jot ideas down.   more »

The party is merry. Nods family are here. All the sections of the night are united and conversation food and drink are flowing in the same river. It’s a joyful noise. Quietly but not like a shadow though a guy walks onto stage as if oblivious of anyone else.   more »

Security is tight. We hand our cell phones to the s and enter the art deco theatre. There are mounted cameras trained on the audience. Security guards with night vision binoculars stand in the side aisles. Nobody but nobody is going to record the film for Youtube.   more »

I thought I would spend this entire week avoiding facebook but this morning I faced up to facebook cause lets face it, on the face of it, I made a mistake   more »

A curious event occurs in early afternoon. I have a friend request on facebook. It’s Mrs Catherine Greenwood, my foster mother of the first eleven years. It’s a bolt from the blue.   more »

I receive a text from Sonita Alleyne, someone I haven’t seen for ten or is it fifteen years. Sonita is head of the largest independent production company outside of the BBC. It’s called Something Else, and she’s ace.   more »

I wake and tiptoe down stairs in the cottage smell of woodfire . The front room is tinged with the red dying embers from the hearth and the Dawn Chorus begins reminding me of dawn chorus’s of before   more »

It’s 5.30am and I am stood with a  cup of tea outside the cottage on fishermans row by the east coast  as the dawn chorus fills the air.  The sky is  blood blue waiting for the crimson sun to rise. It is quintessential England at its best,  simply an aviary.

Shut up and listen. Shut up and watch. Shut up and experience. Shut up and open. We are so busy projecting that we forget to shut up and look at what is   more »

The profundity of experience in the richness of talent that swirls in ever changing configurations around me is never less than.... amazing.   more »

As Southbank centre artist in residence I have given approximately seventy thousand pounds to new and/or developing artists.   more »

Hold on a minute I’ve just got a call. It’s my future. And it’s here!!   more »

I’ve been to the Millbank studios before for a bbc radio interview on The Today Programme with Jimmy Tarbuck of all people. A car awaits and drives me back to the southbank.   more »

We sit and watch the sun go down over Charing Cross station across the river. The day turns red and then dark. She has a cocktail and I water. I   more »

By 6pm I am in Soho on D’arbly St at The Screening Rooms with The Journalist and two Eritrean friends to see Heart of Fire a film written from the original book by Senait G Mehari. Her book has caused a furore in the Eritrean community and so too the film which libled an Eritrean fighter who won damages against it.   more »