In August I became Poet-in-Residence at Chester Cathedral, a year’s appointment. The role is a relatively new one at Chester Cathedral. I am only the second in post, and feel privileged to be invited to contribute to the rich and varied life of this unique space in Ches
A Residency can develop in various directions, alongside the opportunity to work on one’s own writing. Initially my focus is particularly on starting a monthly discussion group to explore Faith in Poetry, and running occasional Writing Workshops hosted at the Cathedral.
You can read some reflections here
You can find more details of the final Writing Workshop of 2019 – Writing Spaces at the Cathedral with myself and Manchester Cathedral Poet-in-Residence Andrew Rudd on Saturday November 16th on the workshops page here .
The Faith in Poetry Discussion Group is a lunchtime meeting that will run on the second Monday of the month, in Chester Cathedral’s Library, from 12 noon to 1.30.
Each session will introduce an aspect of poetry to enrich our appreciation of how it works, followed by reading and discussing some faith-related poems. We will cover a range of poets and approaches, chosen mainly from a Christian perspective.
All are welcome and the event is free, but please register that you’re coming. Spaces are limited and I also need to know how many hand-outs to bring!
From the Residency…
Hope
Fingers slip; coins drop in a slot
with a flat metal splash, cash boxed.
His deposit for the upturn of days.
Silence swallows the moment.
He cradles a candle, egg-light.
Paraffin-wax sheens onto his palm.
He pushes it hard onto a dark spike.
Stillness holds a body pinned with pain.
Now he tastes vertigo; his taper wavers.
Even his flame must be borrowed,
a pinprick flicker caught from its neighbour.
Sighs soak into the flagstones.
Giant-clumsy, he threads a needle of light.
Prayer steadies on its tightrope wick,
joins the whisper of pearl-bead ranks.
Shadows absorb the waiting.
Julia McGuinness
Chester Cathedral has adopted the theme of Waves for 2019. As part of this, the Cloisters have been home to a Saving the Deep sculpture exhibition, the work of sculptor Jacha Pottgieter. It comprises a collection of sea creatures created entirely from re-cycled materials that Jacha picked up on Criccieth beach over a period of just three days. The exhibition is a wake-up call to care for our environment. If we do not change our ways, the sea will contain more plastic than fish within decades.
On my Tuesday mornings in Residence at the Cathedral, I’ve regularly seen these works of art. One, the Mediterranean Monk Seal, has been calling out to me every time I’ve passed by. My response is the poem Beached, which you can find alongside a picture of Jacha Pottgieter and his unique piece, here
It’s amazing what you find around a Cathedral. One morning over the summer, as I wandered around looking for poems, I thought about sculpting a poem from the words already there on screen, wall, noticeboards and displays. The result is this Found Poem. Its title, Ingredients Present, is from a notice giving dietary information located in the Cathedral Refectory. Other sources include information on exhibits and artefacts, fire regulations, leaflets and words on the walls – but what each was and was originally about, I will say no more…
Ingredients Present
A Guide makes good use of time.
Do thou likewise.
What time do you wake up?
Arise and eat.
Set out to explore
through the black gate.
Mind the step.
Join in the conversation.
You can be part of it,
do not have to tell us your name.
Become a Chorister.
Only if competent.
Help us build.
Only if safe.
Please give generously,
exciting holiness.
Take off any shoes.
Two remain in this Chapel
God is worshipped
in this place,
the start or finishing place.
Share its peace;
earth below, stars above.
Enjoy the Deep.
Do not leave without praying.
Jesus heals everything,
originally handcrafted
to the glory of God –
no two are the same.
Walk straight ahead.
Julia McGuinness
As part of the Residency, I asked if I might make a poetic contribution to Chester Cathedral’s worship life. In response, I have had the opportunity to offer a poem at a Sunday evening Compline; a lunch-time Eucharist on National Poetry Day, and at one of the monthly gatherings of the Benedictine Group . For each occasion, I was given the Bible reading as a starting-point for a poem. The first of these, on St Michael and All Angels’ Day, was the most daunting – a section of Revelation 12 covering the war in heaven with all hell breaking loose and Satan overthrown. Somehow, from this, Hollow emerged.
Hollow
This was surely the place:
Earth hollowed by force of a fall.
Trees uprooted, branches ripped
to contortions of spent limbs.
It had been a thunderous night:
Stars shook, sky shot with fire.
Sharp as glass, glittering white,
a crazed whirlpool of wings
dizzied round a cloud of rage
that hurtled towards earth’s quake.
They found this crater, followed
ground gouged in a long wound
down to a steaming hiss of sea.
But harder to track a new hollow
within; silence where that iron voice
used to pummel their souls
to a worm’s meat of frailties berated.
Now, this sunrise, and a fresh breeze
filling every space with song:
Salvation; Life; Beloved, Rejoice.
Julia McGuinness
