5. Issue 1
a 27 page sample of the full 70 page annual
to be published in Spring and launched at 5:30 am 2nd May
on the first day of the Swindon Festival of Literature 2011.
6.
7. Domestic cherry is the name that many gardeners give to the Prunus avium, also known as Sweet
cherry tree. In a recent study, sweet cherries were characterized by two dominant phenolic
compounds, caffeoyltartaric acid and 3!"™-p-coumaroylquinic acid, which are recognised to have
anti-carcinogenic properties. This is pure poetry and a reason for me to become involved with The
Domestic Cherry magazine. Like the Prunus avium, the publication is promising to be full of lively
wise sap, grow vigorously, claim its own space, and produce fruit of intense complex flavour. It may
be the case that before you get to the fruit the birds would have had it. But even in that case, you will
have to admit, it is hardly wasted.
Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
Paper cut out cherry tree
Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
8. Domestic Cherry
c/o Mrs. Watson
Lower Shaw Farm
Old Shaw Lane, Shaw
Swindon, Wiltshire
SN5 5PJ
Contact by email: domesticcherry@rocket.com
Copyright remains with the individual authors and artists in this edition 2011
ISBN: 978-1-4467-2746-1
Supported by:
Mabel Watson is the alter ego of Hilda Sheehan
9. Contents
10 About Domestic Cherry and submission guidelines
Image
Jill Carter
11 The Watson Sisters in Camper Van
Poetry
Mabel Watson
12 Domestic Cherry
Image: Page 13 Paper cut out ‘Cherry Tree in Summer’ Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
Poetry
Anna Wickham
14 Meditation at Kew
Myra Schneider
15 Forest
Lesley Saunders
16 Harvest Supper
Cristina Navazo-Eguia Newton
17 Literal Translation
Tatjana Debelja!ki
18 Japan u Aprilu/Japan in April
Hilda Sheehan
19 Beautiful is told a thing or two
Claire Dyer
20 Burning the war
Heather O’Neill
21 A Housewife’s Meditation
Blog
Jill Carter
22 We all want to be someone different
Image: Page 23, Drawing 1, ‘Dreams & Wishes’ Jill Carter
Playlet
Mabel Watson
24 The Rise of Domestic Cherry
26 Letters
27 List of contributors
10. About Domestic Cherry
Domestic Cherry is a new annual book that will be published each May as part of
the Swindon Festival of Literature and welcomes submissions of previously
unpublished poetry, flash fiction and playlets by women writers. Also, black and
white ink/crayon/charcoal drawings with a touch of red to celebrate cherriness.
The editor Mrs. Watson enjoys being astonished and marvels at women who can
be creative while scrambling over their kids or gasping from the bottom of a
washing basket! She also marvels at women who write with vibrancy, energy and
originality. Mrs. Watson also believes that more fun needs to be had in the
publishing business, so feel free to be playful, happy, edgy, experimental as well
as dark and thick as treacle (Mrs. Watson loves treacle).
What else needs to be said? Mrs. Watson needs your wisdom, because at times
she doubts her own, like lots of women numbed by too much to do. If you have
anything inspirational to add to her submission guidelines then please do share.
Mrs. Watson likes to celebrate sharing!
Submission Details
Please send to domesticcherry@rocketmail.com:
Poetry - of any length sent in the body of an email
Flash Fiction - up to 1000 words sent in the body of an email
Playlets - one side of A4 in one act sent in the body of an email
Black and white line drawings - sent as good quality scanned in Jpeg attachments.
The deadline for issue 1, 70 pages of online and hardcopy writing by women, will
be March 31st 2011, launched at the Swindon Festival of Literature, May 2011.
11. Domestic Cherry is an annual inspired by ‘The Travelling Museum of Possibilities’
Jill Carter, September 2010
The Watson Sisters in Camper Van, Jill Carter, 2010
12. Domestic Cherry
how vertical the cherry ever
domestic and ripe
rises for picker
bursts for picker
hangs up high and different
frequently cherry frequently picker
cherry movement domestic and easy
iron on red placed with cherry
part picker part boom!
on bite of cherry
most vertical for place
let me hang in the ordinary world
dullness swallow a red
swallow a sweet you
hate the syntax of my fall
cart safely the cherry
in his type of diesel
to carry a cherry careful and quiet while
lipstick bleeds all cherries home by nightfall
so sit in their bowls or bottled
these types thissle these
types sonic either
control our cherry inside
sounds so woman sonic
so domestic stuff unwanted landscape
distant cherry in the wind
this cherry scenario is only
one type domestic cherry’s out the box
Mabel Watson
13. Paper cut out cherry tree in summer
Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
14. Meditation at Kew
Alas! for all the pretty women who marry dull men,
Go into the suburbs and never come out again,
Who lose their pretty faces and dim their pretty eyes,
Because no one has skill or courage to organise.
What do these pretty women suffer when they marry?
They bear a boy who is like Uncle Harry,
A girl who is like Aunt Eliza, and not new,
These old dull races must breed true.
I would enclose a common in the sun,
And let the young wives out to laugh and run;
I would steal their dull clothes and go away,
And leave the pretty naked things to play.
Then I would make a contract with hard Fate
That they see all the gay men in the world and choose a
mate,
And I would summon all the pipers in the town
That they dance with Love at a feast, and dance him
down.
From the gay unions of choice
We’d have a race of splendid beauty and of thrilling
voice.
The world whips frank, gay love with rods,
But frankly, gaily shall we get the gods.
Anna Wickham 1884 - 1947
15. Forest
The held-out arms of oaks promise quietness
but I can hear lorries rattling their bones,
kids shrieking at the bottom of a garden
too near this wood. I walk fast and at last
silence is let loose. Its leafiness cleans
my lungs and I trudge soft red layers
unthinking of decay until the trees close ranks
and I peer through firs whose low branches
are mean wires into a darkness thick as serge.
Ambivalence creeps in – no birds sing here,
no flowers bloom in the straggles of grass
between the bramble loops lying in wait
and the silence is so dense now it’s a burden.
Among the witchy trees I glimpse eyes
glittering with threat – deer, wild cat, devil?
The truth is this forest of fears can never
be undone and although I don’t trust the path
I start to run, straining to hear human sounds,
run until breath scrapes against my throat
and my alarmed heart drums in my ears,
run until I see a solid man sitting on a log
eating sandwiches. ‘Lovely day for it,’ he says.
‘Lovely,’ I echo, and not far away I hear
car swish lovely as a rushing stream, as music.
Myra Schneider
16. Harvest Supper
Moments before the first knock at the door
and the moon looking in through the window,
I’ve forgotten who was invited.
Apples ripen and soften in candlelight, their seeds
swelling a little and a little in their star chambers.
The garden is asking to be let in,
wants to know if I’ve laid the table with the old silver.
Six chairs are standing round with their arms open.
I turn up the flame and wait.
Lesley Saunders
17. Literal Translation
Never had the.
My ungoing blistered in the burn of yet.
What-some had often this close
and the closer was the more other than,
the more not really the, the more not quite.
Each time expected having just
that if, then the. But.
Yes, some, like.
Yes, at times, a while, a certain or.
Still, how season, and inasmuch again,
less mean, less waterfall, less.
Bees, without.
Also might a variation of
another not-have.
Unrepairedness, unrepairingness,
wholefailtility,
brokenhood.
Not whether, not whether, but how.
Who does, if at all,
if any ever.
Is it truly thus?
Thus really so like?
Is this it?
Should then no more for?
But why then still out to,
up to.
Where, when, if.
Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
18. Japan u Aprilu
Istinski silna, neoprezna ponekad,
!udim nema i daleka!
Obna"ena, ispunjena savr#enstvom,
Poha$am u"ivanja!!!
Gde ima poverenja ima i radosti.
Nikad nije slikao moju strast,
Snove od boje do re%i,
Bez neizvesnosti i jeze.
Trenutak svetlosti me pogo$a.
Utiskuje japanski zrak na lice.
April lagano izliva boje,
Nad udvojenim senama #to ple#u.
Japan in April
Truly stunning, sometimes careless,
I crave silently and far away!
Naked, filled up with perfection,
I am attending enjoyment!!!
Where there is trust there is always glee.
He never painted my passion,
Dreams from the color to the word,
Without suspense and shivers.
The moment of light strikes me.
Pressing Japanese air onto my face
April is slowly spilling its colors,
above duplicate shadows dancing away.
Tatjana Debelja%ki
Written in Serbian and translated into English by Tatjana Debelja#ki
19. beautiful is told a thing or two
1.
beautiful I’ll wait for you until the clock strikes beautiful at midnight and one
2.
beautiful all we want is jewel lipped laughter glossed away why wasn't your
father told
3.
beautiful I want to lay beside you take my small tongs curl your hair to swans
4.
beautiful something tells me the gate was locked behind you forever
lights left singing
5.
beautiful I'll buy your children things of gold shops dug up treasure
why not take them
6.
beautiful we must make a cloud burst make a river make a whole mountain
climb up between
7.
beautiful I will alter you up like a god like sweet things gifted dressed
to stop the world beautiful
8.
beautiful Pete told you I told you each day will always be a beautiful place to
picnic in your perfume
9.
beautiful I will hang you up above a shelf of things that describe your face
my wall loves you too
10.
beautiful if you go down the shops the ugly might buy you with biscuits
a paper and a coffee
Hilda Sheehan
20. Burning the war
for Dad
I am eight. It is November. There are
three feet of safety between me
and the flames and the air is brittle
with heat. We’re at the end of the garden
under a rib of trees, and he’s wearing
trousers the colour of fudge, a wax jacket
which tinsels when he walks. We’re burning
the war, his father’s death, the man
he used to be. My face is hot, frost stabs
the back of my knees, leaves curl,
twigs snap; there is percussion here, and
melody. This is when he can see through walls,
and skin and bone, can hold a star
in the palm of his hand, knows
everything there is to know. He smiles,
adds wood. The smoke thickens, rises, hides him.
Claire Dyer
21. A Housewife’s Meditation
His pants, my knickers, paired, pegged
hang damp, unripe. Sadsacks
along the line. The prayer spreads
away away – fill with air, folded hearts!
‘Come back’ caught in my juju cloth:
his pants, my knickers. Paired, pegged
each bead adds weight to the last
I sow certitude, to harvest
along the line. The prayer spreads
dancing. Frankenstein, fluffed live
awake and pulling shapes, swell-full
his pants, my knickers, paired, pegged
magnet realign our filaments:
our wills. Cause moving, mirroring.
Along the line the prayer spreads
out my mind to ride your voice
together a storm of murmuring noise:
his pants, my knickers, paired, pegged
along the line the prayer spreads.
Heather O’Neill
22. We all want to be something different
13/Jan/11 09:11
Talked to Ali today, mum of the friend of the mysterious girl. She was delighted
to know that portrait images of the community were to be in an exhibition at the
Royal West of England Academy. I told her I was hugely excited and that the
first person I shared the news with of the exhibition Dreams, Masks & Mirrors
was Lennie, my window cleaner. I’m coming, he said, I’ve never been anywhere
royal. Whilst there was something burning under the grill, we discussed on the
phone the desire to be 'Other'...Well, we all want to be someone different - don't
we said the Mum of the best friend of the mysterious little girl, who had appeared
as though from nowhere, dressed in a different outfit over ten times. I explained
the photographs taken during the ten day art/works festival was to explore the
theme of a contemporary take on fairytale & myth. Isobel loved the Travelling
Museum of Possibilities, she still talks about it...told her Nan on Christmas Day
all about what took place, dressing up, in the media bus. She wore her Travelling
Museum badge on her Christmas dress. ‘I dream of being on the Front Row,
she’d said.
Jill Carter
24. The Rise of Domestic Cherry – a Playlet
Monday evening, Mabel is loading the twin tub and the phone rings. It is
Geraldine.
Mabel: Mrs.Watson speaking.
Geraldine: Mabel!
Mabel: Yes, speaking.
Geraldine: Mabel, I've just been reading that magazine you talked about at last
week’s knitting group. You said you didn't think much of it and, having read it, I
agree.
Mabel: Well yes, it's all a bit dull. I had to keep putting it down, clean another
window then struggle through another poem. Not a good sign.
Geraldine: I'm much less impressed than I was with issue 35 (the first one I've
subscribed to). What struck me this time is just how many of the poems are by
men - so I counted, and then counted in issue 36, which is also unbalanced but it's
not quite so obvious.
Mabel: That's terrible. Poor Ursula has been rejected by them no less than seven
times and she's a master of haiku!
Geraldine: I've also just subscribed to Brittle Star - which has poetry and short
fiction, which also has a male/female ratio of 11:7. Can't draw conclusions from
one issue, of course.
Mabel: No, quick conclusions are never good.
Geraldine: Do you think this is common in small poetry mags? There are, now,
short story mags that are only open to women, in an effort to combat undercurrent
sexism in fiction. Is it just as bad in poetry - or is there a women-only poetry
mag somewhere?
Mabel: What’s needed is a totally fabulous magazine full of brilliant work by
women. An annual perhaps, nicely retro.
Geraldine: Yes! it makes life even more difficult if we are disadvantaged by our
gender before we even pick up a pen! (Or maybe this is just a gap in the market?)
25. Mabel: Gap in market. Certainly, there's a lack of fun as well as a lack of writing
by amazing women. But how about Myslexia. That's a lovely one.
Geraldine: I've subscribed to MsLexia for a couple of years now, and think it's
wonderful - but it's a drop in the ocean compared with the need, and the standard
is so high that's it feels almost impossible to get published there (although I sent
them 4 poems on the Departures theme in the summer and they haven't come
back yet, so maybe they are shortlisted, and I did have a story shortlisted once!)
Mabel: Hmmm. You know it brings me back to a comment made by the totally
lovely poet Ros Barber. She said, 'Mabel, your poems are full of strength and
originality but male editors may dislike the domestic theme.'
Geraldine: Goodness Mabel. Something needs to be done! A poetry magazine
for women - along the lines of The Yellow Room, which is short stories written
by women, would be wonderful. We can dream!
Mabel: Let's do more than dream. Let's do it! Let’s have our own magazine, call
it 'the domestic cherry' or something like that. A vibrant source of writing by
women of any age, any culture, any background.
Geraldine: It's a great idea. Not sure I know enough about poetry? Can I really
edit short fiction when I've had so little published myself? All the usual doubts
you'd expect from any woman brought up in the 50s in a household full of men.
Mabel: Darling, we can do it. We know what's what; my bedside is a mountain
of poems. I know what moves me and that's a great place to start. Away with the
‘Kingdom of Dullness!’ A magazine to cause a gasp in the poetry world.
Geraldine: Are you serious Mabel?
Mabel: I'm VERY serious Geraldine Watson. Sisters in domestic dirty washing
poetry crime: bring your dirty washing here, Objectivists at large! We want
sincerity and freshness more than anything; a feather duster on the art world!
Now must get back to the spinner…
26. Letters
Dear Mrs. Watson
May I call you Mabel?
Indeed, you are right. In fact, it goes without saying: the female writing voice is
a great one, as great as any, provided the person behind it takes writing seriously,
knows how to be free and disciplined at the same time, and also knows how to
laugh.
For these, and many more reasons, I certainly do ‘enjoy, encourage, and
celebrate’ such voices in the Literature-related events that I seek to put on.
As to your new magazine, I think it an idea whose time has come, whose cherry
is ripe, and promises fruitfulness to follow.
Since you say you like sharing Mrs. W and welcome comments, I would be very
pleased to go through the DOMESTIC CHERRY (brilliant name!) submission
guidelines with you but best by phone, because just now, on this cold wet night at
Lower Shaw Farm, I am off to put another log on the fire and run a reading
group. (Maybe your mag could also have a ‘Recommended Reading’ section,
because I believe that you believe that a belief in reading is a necessary belief for
writers who believe that, through a belief in the value of reading the work of
other good writers, their own writing can improve, to unbelievable levels of
beauty, sense, and completeness.)
Must go. My children may be grown up but my books are still babies that need a
gentle hand and careful preparation before they can be presented to the doubting
world.
All power to your elbow dear Mabel.
Matt Holland
Director, SWINDON FESTIVAL OF LITERATURE
Lower Shaw Farm
Shaw
Swindon
Wiltshire SN5 5PJ
01793 771080 or 07940 827624
matt@lowershawfarm.co.uk
www.swindonfestivalofliterature.co.uk
27. List of contributors
Myra Schneider’s tenth collection of poetry, ‘Circling The Core’, was published by Enitharmon in
2008. She also writes fiction for children and personal writing. These include ‘Writing My Way
Through Cancer ‘(Jessica Kingsley 2003). Most recently ‘Writing Your Self’ (with John Killick)
published by Continuum International at the end of 2009. s www.esch.dircon.co.uk
Lesley Saunders’ poems have been widely published, including in the London Review of Books,
Magma and the Rialto. Her books include a co-authored volume with Jane Draycott and artist Peter
Hay, ‘Christina the Astonishing’ (Two Rivers Press, 1998); ‘Her Leafy Eye,’ collaboration with the
artist Geoff Carr (Two Rivers Press, 2009); ‘No Doves’ (Mulfran Press 2010); and most recently
‘Some Languages Are Hard to Dream In’, a pamphlet with images by Christopher Hedley-Dent
(Mulfran Press 2010).
Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton published poetry in Spanish in two collections and five anthologies
before moving to Swindon, where she is involved in education, wildlife projects, flamenco singing
and raising her children. Some of her English poems have appeared in journals and become finalists at
Bridport, Gregory O’Donoghue, Strokestown and Aesthetica.
Hilda Sheehan lives in Swindon with her five children and has had poems published by Rialto,
Poetry Society Website, BBC Website, South and The New Writer. Hilda is the MC of the popular
BlueGate Poets’ Open Mic Nights, an assistant to the Swindon Artswords Literature Development
Worker and chair of BlueGate Poets: www.blueghatepoets.com
Tatjana Debelja!ki was born in 1967 in U"ice and is a member of the Association of Writers of
Serbia UKS since 2004 and the Haiku Society of Serbia. She has published three collections of poetry,
‘A House Made of Glass,’ published by ART – U"ice; ‘Yours,’ published by Nrodna Knjigna, and
‘Vulcano’ by Haiku Lotos, Valjevo. "AH-EH-EEH-OH-OOH" published by Poeta Belgrade in 2008.
www.poetabg.com
Claire Dyer writes women’s fiction and poetry and works very part-time for an HR research forum in
London. She is widely published and is a member of the Brickwork Poets, a group who perform
conversations in poetry on set themes at venues around the UK.
Heather O’Neill was one of last year’s winners of the Battered Moons Competition. She has worked,
among other things, as a secondary school teacher and a 70’s disco wedding singer. Currently she is
raising two small boys and has only been writing a short time.
Jill Carter, MFA is a visual artist, facilitator & educator: delivering social engagement projects,
performative interventions, workshops & photographic exhibitions. Jill engages with people through
light-hearted playfulness and sensitivity, bridging artistic, social & therapeutic values. Inspiring others
to share stories & hopes, exploring the space between the real and imaginary, playful and poetic.
