
Why I Write: A poem by Ivana Domozetska
Can you learn how to be a good writer? Yes and no. You can learn the skill, but you can’t learn the creativity. A good writer has creativity, thoughts, feelings, passion. A good writer has [… read more ]
Can you learn how to be a good writer? Yes and no. You can learn the skill, but you can’t learn the creativity. A good writer has creativity, thoughts, feelings, passion. A good writer has [… read more ]
There are ten days to go before the Portsmouth Performers for Palestine event and tickets are still available. In advance of the event, which is brought to you in association with Star & Crescent, the [… read more ]
There are ten days to go before the Portsmouth Performers for Palestine event and tickets are still available. In advance of the event, which is brought to you in association with Star & Crescent, the [… read more ]
In advance of the Portsmouth Performers for Palestine event, brought to you in association with Star & Crescent, the University of Portsmouth, the Universities of Sanctuary and Unite the Union, we present a poem by writer and academic [… read more ]
In advance of the Portsmouth Performers for Palestine event, brought to you in association with Star & Crescent, staff and students at the University of Portsmouth, the Universities of Sanctuary and Unite the Union, we present a poem [… read more ]
In advance of the Portsmouth Performers for Palestine event, brought to you in association with Star & Crescent, the University of Portsmouth, the Universities of Sanctuary and Unite the Union, we present a poem by [… read more ]
By Carole Carrell Born in Pompey was I, with the Luftwaffe on its way, Elm Grove it was, number 27A. There came bomb sites on which to play, full of butterflies, nettles and dens, [… read more ]
Penhale Road when I was a girl we played in that street skipped along pavements hopscotched chalky squares trickled shiny, coloured marbles along broken slabs when I was a girl we zigzagged around the occasional [… read more ]
By Jackie Green Quips that slip from pompous lip, Wide eyed lies that slide like flies From piles of dung, publicly flung At the tufty hair and vacant stare, Of our PM from number [… read more ]
By Margaret Jennings Mr and Mrs Portsmouth are kirtled by the sea proud of their ironclad links to Nelson and Victory, Looking down on their sister, Gosport. Dismissive of the Scummers. Mr and [… read more ]
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