On being ‘website official…’

Hello! I’ve decided it’s time to have my very own website. I’m immediately inclined to apologise for my decision - just as I’m immediately apologetic that selling a poetry pamphlet costs money. And yet I’ve been writing for over thirty years, and have been published now in quite a lot of places, and have long since stopped alluding vaguely to poetry as a hobby. Still, the imposter syndrome is strong with me - like the darkside of The Force in operation. We can just acknowledge it and move on.

It seems time though, with two chapbooks published published, one due out next year, and a few readings in the works, to have a page through which I can interact with people. And maybe a nice place to put things during NaPoWriMo and such. I also love to read poetry - you can’t write it without loving to read it, or not well! So I’d like to use this blog space as an occasional virtual dancefloor for celebrating other authors and their words.

So come and join me, by checking in for the odd new poem, acquired wisdom, upcoming event, or musings on cheese.

When we decided we wanted you

You could say it started with a charming American
in a student bar in Chorlton, or perhaps
when I said sure, I’ll go live in Los Angeles, 
city sight unseen. 

You might begin the story with a marriage proposal
on top of Catalina Island, land of bison
and chewing gum magnates;
the thought of you, bioluminescence in the waves.

Maybe it was when we decided that thirty-two
was the right age to go from two to three-
that was the end of trying not 
to be pregnant,

But sometimes an absence of obstacle
isn’t encouragement enough.
You could say it started with a diagnosis
of the issue, with a plan,

with some needles, scans,
ovulation testing kits,
with hormones in pills-
with advice and good timing.

I saw you as a tiny moon on screen-
‘a promising egg’, they called you.
A gift, to see you so early in your journey
from cells, moving over time to yourself.

You were a conscious choice and a surprise,
you were love, and science,
you were every bit of glittering, scattered light
I saw in the waves that dark night.

V Napolitano

First published by The Mum Poem Press ‘Choices’ Zine, edited by Liz Berry

I’m a New Northern Poet

I'm really excited to share that I'm a 2025 @thewordupnorth New Northern poet!

Not to be melodramatic (though really, why break the habit of a lifetime), when I found out, I was in my mum's kitchen and I had a small cry. I'm so looking forward to the mentoring, workshops and networking with the other incredible poets. Imposter syndrome is an issue for me (as for many other poets I know), but I'm just going to enjoy this, and banish that unhelpful feeling!

Thanks to @chris_duffy_photography for my lovely new author photo!

Some reasons for joy.

After a clare shaw prompt and an after of Ocean Vuong

Because the bluebells are out late, and in force,
and the woods are ringing -

because my daughter has shared five documents with
me, all about horses,
all of which I must print,
and all the titles are questions,
What does a grey horse mean?

because I still have so many questions.
Because riding the train into the city
shows the city to be spectacular
like silver steel pine trees and dirt and women in neon
crop tops
which I am not yet brave enough to wear;

because I can do some small good
and because I love the word ‘alight’
and because one day I will make sourdough
when it’s unfashionable
and because the car is hot when I get in
like soft baked air -

because a baked potato and cheese sauce
restores my balance and good humour
and because some of my feelings are tiredness
and I can sleep, and make them better.

V Napolitano