Matt Harvey
In 1992 began performing poems and is now a veteran of the UK festival circuit.
He is President of MIND in Exeter and East Devon and helps organise its regional Off the Wall comedy festival. Since co-writing and co starring in two series of One Night Stanza in 2001/02 he has become a regular Radio 4 voice, contributing to programmes such as Off The Page, Word of Mouth and A Good Read. He writes songs too. Matt has published five books; Here We Are Then, Songs Sung Sideways, Standing Up To Be Counted Out, Curtains and Other Material and most recently The Hole in the Sum of my Parts which contains a selection from the previous four books plus some new bits.
Here are Matt's poems from Saturday's programme:
Holy Saturday
I wonder where Lent went
And what Lent meant
And whether they way that I spent Lent
Will make even a tiny dent
In where I鈥檓 ultimately sent
贬别谤别补蹿迟别谤鈥�
Cuddling With Humans, or The Road Less Cuddled
Though the thought of no more cuddling
Is seriously troubling
When it comes to cuddle parties鈥�
鈥 am struggling
I may well be molly-coddled
In my own way jolly-muddled
And perhaps not fully-cuddled
But I get the collywobbles
So if you think there鈥檚 any chance I鈥檒l ever join the cuddle party?
I think: hardly
I鈥檓 not a cuddlebug, or snugglegrub
But yes, we all need creature contact
In a safe consenting context
To engage in creature antics
But without a sexual subtext
Far from thoughts of sin and syntax
Don鈥檛 we?
We all need gentle jostling, and snuggling and nuzzling
And any voice that says we don鈥檛 - I think that voice needs muzzling
But because it鈥檚 so embarrassing the benefit鈥檚 debatable
I鈥檇 rather people thought I was at home with an inflatable
(than at a Cuddle Party in pyjamas)
I admire those who attend them for the humble path they鈥檝e chosen
That of touchy-feely fellowship 鈥� it鈥檚 called the road less frozen
They鈥檙e just saying: Don鈥檛 ignore me, 鈥淚 am hurting, Please unthaw me
I鈥檓 just saying: I鈥檓 unthertain, 鈥淧lease don鈥檛 call me
Reflections on the discernibly different thicknesses of blood and water
and how we can tell from DNA samples who is whose father and who whose daughter
Consult the retrospective oracle,
the new post-cognitive technology.
Our latest scientific miracle
sees portents in micro-biology.
There鈥檚 DNA hidden in dynasty,
the helix speaks, the twisted ladder talks.
It spills the intimate beans on ancestry
and tracks spilt seed up tendrils and down stalks.
I know who I love, who loves me, but need
to know, too, my genetic oddities,
the family hand-me-downs. And, when I bleed,
I need to know whose bleeding blood it is,
where I stand in relationship to you,
what鈥檚 what, who鈥檚 who and who begot who, too.
where are the poems, will they up soon?
Complain about this postI wanted to read the sonnet, please.
Liked all the poems, cuddle party made me laugh, but really wanted to have a slow read of the dna one -
Thank you