Vile rumours about Marjorie

Rumours that Marjorie Pickering is currently enjoying the hospitality of Her Majesty's Prison Service are entirely unfounded.

Poetry Evening at the Cumberland Arms

How exciting! My friend Amina is arranging an evening of poetry at music at the Cumberland Arms in Ouseburn (or is it Byker) to raise awareness (and possibly funds) for her Borderline Books project. And what is even MORE exciting is that she has asked me to host the evening!
Well goodness gracious me, that sound like lots of fun.

She has made a rather odd poster for it, but she means well.

Proud Poets

Well I had an absolutely splendid time at the 'Northern Pride Festival' on Saturday. I was engaged, along with some other notable local poets, to perform in the Womens' Tent. First of all the weather was gorgeous, which made a huge difference. I didn't have to wear my new, terribly costly Wellington boots, and had a little time to potter in the garden before coming on stage. In fact I still had my gardening gloves and my sun hat on! This charming photo was taken by Roweena Russell, bless her.

Now, I was a little perplexed by the title of the festival, since I had assumed it had something to do with being delighted with being British, proud of our Empire and generally celebrating this historic Jubilee, Olympic year. (Oh, Amina tells me I might not be allowed to use what she calls 'the O word' at the moment. How very silly.
It seemed, however, that the festivities were about something a little different - there were lots of young men walking around holding hands (such a nice change from all the aggression we sometimes see) and a number of ladies doing the same. It occurred to me - on further investigation - that young people these days have so much more choice than we had in our day. L - G - B - T - Q? Heavens above! When I was a gel, ladies had companions and men - well that was illegal, so the less said, the better.  Good for Queen Victoria, if you ask me.

Amina kindly bought me raffle tickets from Newcastle Carers Centre. The top prize was a Jubilee Tea Set.  Unfortunately the telephone has not rung, so I am afraid our luck was not in this time.

This teapot, however, seems much more dignified, so perhaps I may purchase it as a memento of this historic year.

Rain Stopped Us Playing

Oh, what a shame! I had an engagement on Thursday at Studio Q in Sunderland and was looking forward to it so much. But what should happen than we had the most amazing storm from about 4.30 til 6.30 (just when we should have left). There were floods all over the place, public transport was in chaos and traffic was backed up for miles so that it was impossible to get there on time. Our hosts phoned to say that so few people had managed to come that - unless we were already almost there - there was little point in our going.
They have said they will reschedule the show - and I jolly well hope they do. I had some wonderful new items to show everyone and I was so excited.
Never mind, we weren't washed away, so everything is all right.

A Delightful Evening

My goodness what a delightful evening we had. I was invited to give a poetry lecture at Floor 6 of Commercial Union House in Newcastle.
Since young people have quite a short attention span it was agreed that the lecture should be punctuated with interludes of music and dance by some dear young people called Neal, Lee, John and Alex - Alex is of the female gender, by the way and wears some quite startling eye make-up.


Neal and Lee are very accomplished musicians playing a range of instruments from 'cello and viola to trumpet and trombone - such talent and virtuosity! I do hope that we will have the opportunity of sharing a stage again in the future.

The audience was very friendly and responsive - though for the life of me I never understand why people are apt to giggle at some of the most profound of my poems. Nonetheless, many of them came to me later to say how much they had enjoyed it. I am thinking of starting a writing group of my own since these youngsters are clearly hungry for literary education of the kind that only I can gi ve.

I took the last two Jimmys along - Jimmy 25 in his glass coffin, and Jimmy 26 who was turned into a keyring by a clever taxidermist. Jimmy 28, still in a bag of water came along for the ride as well.

Thank you to Jonathan at CU House for the kind invitation and generous remuneration.

I was also able to announce that I will be appearing again at the Gay Pride Festival in July which is exciting, though I'm not sure what it's all about. Never mind, as long as they are eager for some real poetry I'm sure we'll all have a lovely time.

A new poetry season

Frankly, the less said about the ARC Debacle,
 the better.

*********

May is a new season with new possibilities and we are delighted to have been invited to two very exciting events - first, on Empire Day one will be reading at the Cumberland Arms. This is so terribly appropriate for a patriot such as myself. Empire Day has been largely forgotten, which is such a shame. It was Clementina Trenholme who first had the foresight to introduce the celebration in Canada back in 1898 - a little before my time. By 1904 Empire Day started being celebrated in the United Kingdom - particularly in schools, and from there it spread across the entire Empire. May 24 was - as of course you know - the birthday of our dear Queen Victoria.

In 1958 the day was renamed Commonwealth Day - definitely a little common if you ask me - but I suppose we had to keep up with the demise of the Empire - otherwise known as 'post-Colonialism'. 

Frankly I think the rest of the world didn't know when they were well-orf. All that independence nonsense - where has it got us in the end?

Worse was yet to come, when in 1976 'Commonwealth Day' was moved to March, thus losing its connection with the Empress of India. Well, I ask you, what have things come to? For me 24 May will always be Empire Day.

But let's leave politics aside, it's really not a suitable subject for nice women. Speaking of which, one has also been invited to read at the Women's tent at the Northern Pride Festival. Now that seems a splendid idea. We should all be proud - especially in this Jubilee year! - Aren't you all frightfully excited?

I have been knitting Union flags ever since January and will be stringing them up outside the house at the beginning of June. By then I hope my window boxes will all be blooming red white and blue, in spite of the very difficult weather we've been having.  I have also been teaching Jimmy to swim in time to the National Anthem, which he is managing quite well...

considering.

Excitement!

Oh my goodness, this is all so exciting. I think some of you already know that I will be appearing on stage at the ARC in Stockton on September 22nd. The programme was supposed to be called 'A Moment with Marjorie', but due to an industrial dispute it has been advertised as 'Funny Haha, Funny Peculiar'.
While I find this distressing and upsetting, I have decided to keep a stiff upper lip and not complain to the management.
As long as everyone understands that this is really Marjorie Pickering's recital, with support from some nice young men who call themselves King Ink and another young man from Bristol who wears a lot of badges and calls himself Byron Vincent. He claims to have two ears and no club foot, but with a name like that you never can tell what might be missing.
Having also paid another nice young man to make portrait photgraphs of me, I am surprised that they have not appeared in the programme either, another thing I need to remedy.

What a week! I had the great honour and pleasure of appearing at the Leazes Fringe edition of Jibba Jabba and a few days later at Pink Lane - two shows in a week!
At Jibba Jabba, Jennifer was looking particularly perky as it was a kind of anniversary for her and Steven. Unfortunately someone who will remain nameless, since almost everyone knows who it was, managed to offer me a glass of vodka and cranberry - all down my left side. I had to spend the whole evening feeling damp and sticky, not pleasant at all.

Pink Lane on Thursday was most exciting. Of course I had to come later in the evening as Amina appeared in the first segment of the show. Actually I was glad I missed her performance as I understand she did some quite unsuitable material. People may have been amused, but I still think it sounds as if she disgraced herself. I may have to seriously reconsider our friendship.

But as you will see from the photograph, I am having to carry my telephone around at the moment. Jack has gone missing. I mean a lot more missing than usual. A few days ago there was a strange phone call saying that L. Grando was holding Jack and that he proposed removing some of his cahonies (if I understoon it correctly). Following that I received two small round softish objects in a bag and am afraid they may be Jack's. The strangely phrased note accompanying them suggested that I could have him back if I pay a rather large sum of money. It's is all rather worrying - and of course I am not supposed to tell anyone or get the constabulary involved, but this blodge is all between friends, so I don't suppose that counts.
After the way Jack has behaved in the past I am not at all sure I want him back but on the other hand I don't really want too much more harm to come to him.

I had better stop here. The telephone could ring at any time and I have much poetry to compose before my next engagement.

Goodness gracious! I can hardly believe that I haven't written in my blodge since March. It's true I have not been on the performance circuit for a few weeks. An artist needs to withdraw from time to time to get in touch with the Muse again. I also had to speak to the press about the misinformation they were spreading about my appearance at the Edinburgh Festival. This was a complete fabrication and I am thinking of taking out a super-conjunction or sewing someone.

I have been most honored to hear from the Oxford Dictionary of Poetic Quotations that they plan to use some of my most memorable lines in their next edition. In addition to that I am in negotiation with the Goldfish Society of America about the possibility of giving a recitation at their next Annual General Meeting. Practical Fishkeeping Magazine may also publish one or two of my poems in a future issue.


My many fans may be happy to hear that I will be appearing at Trent House on 5th June as part of the Leazes Fringe and again on 9th June at Pink Lane. That will be very exciting - my good friend and agent, Amina is appearing on the same bill! I haven't heard her perform for a very long time - she seems to be using all sorts of strange modern technology which I don't begin to understand but it keeps her in a good temper, so I suppose that's a Good Thing.

Amina thinks this is funny

Goldfish 1: Hey, look at that castle!
Goldfish 2: What's a castle?
Goldfish 1: I don't know, why d'you ask?
Goldfish 2: Ask what?
Goldfish 1: Hey, look at that castle!

- personally I  find it quite insulting and politically incorrect. I will ask Avaaz to start a petition and take the matter to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Goldfish.

Well, enough of my little grumbles - hope to see you next week at Trent House and Pink Lane.

'Rave Reviews'

Goodness, me, it has been a jolly month! In the end Amina couldn't make it to Radikal Words at the Tyneside Cinema, so I stepped in so as not to let that nice Jeffrey Price down.
The audience were quite appreciative which was nice as I had written some new poems specially for the occasion - a trionelle and a villanette. The latter was rather difficult, so I patterned it somewhat on a poem by Dylan Thomas. I am sticking to what I know - writing mainly about Jimmy the goldfish and Herbert, my cat, but at the same time I am exploring life's eternal verities.

The women's night at the Cumberland Arms was also most enjoyable, although the audience there was really rather rowdy - quite a different class of people. It is quite hard to get them to settle down and listen - they behave a little like school children. Nonetheless I had splendid reviews, one of which I am putting here.

Howls of laughter and tumultuous applause greeted the poetry reading of
Marjorie Pickering at the Cumberland Arms last night.
The variety of poetic forms she uses and the deep simplicity of her
subjects - life, death, love and goldfish are impressive.
Her audience were heard to remark 'I bloody wet meself' and 'Eeeeeeeee I was
fair crying' and 'Marjorie, you HAVE to write more Haiku'.
Marjorie herself said later, 'The audience were very unruly. They will
keep giggling when I'm trying to read. But they do seem to like my work'.

Rumours that she has been invited to have a one-woman show at the Edinburgh Festival are unconfirmed.

Time is Marching on

How droll.... Marching on - it's March. Yes, of course you understood that. Well it's a busy month because last week there were all kinds of celebrations for International Women's Day. I suppose I could think of myself as an International woman since I have lived abroad for nearly half my life.

But this month there are all kinds of poetry events - Amina has been invited to take part in Radikal Words at the Tyneside Cinema tomorrow. I hope she makes it - she has been a little sad just recently. But I suppose it will blow over.

I am taking part in the Women's special Take Ten at the Cumberland Arms on March 24, which is really jolly exciting. Originally they had invited Amina, but - and I'm a little hestiant to say this, after hearing me at a workshop Poetry Jack insisted that I come myself.

Of course Amina was a bit hurt, but what can I do if my genius begins to shine through? Golly, I hope I don't sound conceited - I certainly don't mean to be. After all, I am but a beginner on life's poetic path and have so much to learn.

I was happy to hear some nice people from Scotland praising my hero William McGonagall on Facebook last week. They said he was one of the original stand-up poets, which I suppose he was, if you don't count people who wrote in Latin or Greek - or Sanskrit... or Chinese...

Out and About

Well, what a jolly month we are having. Of course, you know February is LGBT History month - delightful that there is so much choice these days. It wasn't that way when I was a gel - I mean some people were that way, but we didn't actually talk about it.

I had a surprise appearance at the comedy night at Trent House at the beginning of the month. Well, it was quite a surprise to me as I thought I was supposed to be part of a string quartet playing at the Sage, but ended up all by myself at the Trent. Never mind, we had lots of fun and I think I even made some new fans.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm off to Scratch Club 2 where artists gather to rehearse new work and get feedback from their fellows rather than from the microphones. I didn't manage to go to the first one as my alter-ego decided she was going, but this time it's my turn.

Jimmy, my dear goldfish (photo on previous entry) is doing well after suffering a cold and a touch of fin-cramp. Thank goodness for homeopathic medicine!

Well I must dash off and pen another masterpiece in time for tomorrow. - Oh, I have been invited to take part in a local radio show called Celestial Navigation, which is frightfully exciting. No date set yet, but I'll let you know.

Cheery Bye!

Hello, I'm Marjorie

Hello everyone, I'm Marjorie Pickering. Last year I came back to England after living in Amsterdam for rather a long time. My husband Jack was working there. I'm not sure exactly what he does as it's sort of classified. I mean, that's the way he describes it.

Anyway, while we lived in Amsterdam I was on my own quite a lot, so I took a number of evening classses - Madrigal singing, Medieval History, Yoga, Pottery and Creative Writing. It was this last class that launched me on my career as a poet.

We were always told to write about what we know so I started out writing, mainly about my little cat Herbert and Jimmy the Goldfish.

this is Jimmy. Herbert was hiding somewhere. Maybe I will be able to show you a photo of him later.

Here are my first two ever poems:

My Little Cat Herbert

Oh Herbert, how furry you are

I wish you hadn't got squashed by a car

Dear Herbert, how furry you were

How sad you don't purr

any murr (more)

Jimmy the Goldfish

Splish, splash I see you swim

My lovely, shiny, fishy Jim.

What a pity I introduced you to Herbert.

Well, that is quite a long time ago now - I have written lots and lots more poems since then. Now that I live in England I have been able to sign up for writing courses at the William MacGonagall School of Poetry and even perform on stage sometimes! I like to experiment with different forms, from Haiku to Sonnet, Villanelle and many more.

I will share more of my poems in the next blog and I hope I will build up what they call a 'fan base' and get even more people coming to my poetry readings.

It's all frightfully jolly!