A Tale of Three Cities Competition and Book
The competition is now closed. Over 250 entries have been received. There was a huge range of styles, subjects and voices. A Tale of Three Cities have been humbled by the variety and wealth of work you sent in!
The competition is judged solely on literary merit. A Tale of Three Cities co-ordinators are currently producing a shortlist of pieces, which are being read anonymously (writers' names were hid where they appeared, so the judges couldn't be influenced by seeing the name of a writer they knew). The shortlisted poems will go forward to be judged on the 2 February by the six writers who took part in our project - Karen Buckley, Rod Duncan, Jeremy Duffield, Rosie Garner, Kevin Fegan and Mike Wilson. It is hoped that Ian McMillan, Poet Laureate for the Three Cities, will help choose the final winner. Winners will be notified in mid-February, and their names will go up on this website.
Even if you are NOT a winner you may still see your work in print. As a fitting conclusion to A Tale of Three Cities, a beautiful book is being launched on March 31st which will include a selection of writing from the competition, the workshops and from all the professional writers. Pieces from the competition which didn't win, but which were interesting, funny or provocative - and there were a lot of those will also be included! It will be a beautiful, well illustrated book and the launch in Nottingham will be a public one, so come along to show your support and see if you made it into the book.
The adult winners are:
1 River Lost by Carol Beadle
2 Festival of Light and Water by Pam Thompson
3 Frog Island Lessons by Siobhan Logan
Ian McMillan's Poem
HERE. NOW. THEN
The train slows, and a voice
Tells me where I am this early Summer morning:
Leicester, or Derby, or Nottingham
Real places, and places of the mind.
Tell me about your city
And I'll tell you about your city
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
The train stops, and I climb off
And I'm surrounded by poetry this Summer morning:
A man embraces a woman and says
'You look gorgeous this morning, you do'
Tell me about your city
And that 'you do' at the end of the line
And the way the words hang in the air
And the way she looked at him
As he turned to go into the station
And I'll tell you about your city
Is pure, beautiful East Midlands:
You look gorgeous this morning, you three cities do
As I wander through Nottingham
And hear vowels dancing, consonants clicking
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
And see faces shining in the sun,
And I stand in Leicester Market,
And take a central Derby walk
And thrill to the pride in the East Midlands talk
The train slows, and a voice
Tells me where I am this early Summer morning:
Leicester, or Derby, or Nottingham
Real places, and places of the mind.
Tell me about your city
And I'll tell you about your city
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
The train stops, and I climb off
And I'm surrounded by poetry this Summer morning:
A man embraces a woman and says
'You look gorgeous this morning, you do'
Tell me about your city
And that 'you do' at the end of the line
And the way the words hang in the air
And the way she looked at him
As he turned to go into the station
And I'll tell you about your city
Is pure, beautiful East Midlands:
You look gorgeous this morning, you three cities do
As I wander through Nottingham
And hear vowels dancing, consonants clicking
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
And see faces shining in the sun,
And I stand in Leicester Market,
And take a central Derby walk
And thrill to the pride in the East Midlands talk
Tell me about your city
And I'll tell you about your city
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
'There's this bloke. Bloke from Yorkshire.
Poet. Makes a living from rhymes.
Coming here to depict our lives and times,
He is; something about 'an outsider's eye'
Well, I've spent all my life under an East Midlands sky
And I'd like to see him try.
Oh yes: I'd like to see him try.'
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
'Started off in Leicester. I did. Good place to work.
Prosperous. You could make a living there.
A sense of welcome in the bustling air.
Then Nottingham: Castle's an impressive sight
As you roll in on the train on a Winter's night
And somehow this region feels right.
Oh yes: somehow this region feels right.
Tell me about your city
'Then Derby: they've two cathedrals, you know.
True. One praising God with a burning voice.
The other one the temple we call Rolls Royce.
And for years I lived in one or the other
And there's lots to know and more to discover
I could write a book: yes, and draw the cover
This region's my family, my father, my mother...'
And I'll tell you about your city.
Everyone's a poet, of course; everyone I meet
Has got a poem in them, waiting
Like Dawn waits to become dinnertime.
And I looked and listened. In Derby they said
'tell them about the traffic' and in Nottingham
they said, 'we're more than Robin Hood, you know,
much more' and in Leicester they told me
not just to go to the clock tower, but to go further,
And I'll tell you about your city
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
'There's this bloke. Bloke from Yorkshire.
Poet. Makes a living from rhymes.
Coming here to depict our lives and times,
He is; something about 'an outsider's eye'
Well, I've spent all my life under an East Midlands sky
And I'd like to see him try.
Oh yes: I'd like to see him try.'
And let's meet somewhere in the middle
'Started off in Leicester. I did. Good place to work.
Prosperous. You could make a living there.
A sense of welcome in the bustling air.
Then Nottingham: Castle's an impressive sight
As you roll in on the train on a Winter's night
And somehow this region feels right.
Oh yes: somehow this region feels right.
Tell me about your city
'Then Derby: they've two cathedrals, you know.
True. One praising God with a burning voice.
The other one the temple we call Rolls Royce.
And for years I lived in one or the other
And there's lots to know and more to discover
I could write a book: yes, and draw the cover
This region's my family, my father, my mother...'
And I'll tell you about your city.
Everyone's a poet, of course; everyone I meet
Has got a poem in them, waiting
Like Dawn waits to become dinnertime.
And I looked and listened. In Derby they said
'tell them about the traffic' and in Nottingham
they said, 'we're more than Robin Hood, you know,
much more' and in Leicester they told me
not just to go to the clock tower, but to go further,
and that's what I tried to do. In Derby I found
a secret garden as big as a tablecloth
and I sat in it to think; In Nottingham somebody
told me a story in an old, old pub and I listened,
and thought, and in Leicester, in the market
I heard the voices of the world raised,
and I thought and thought, and tried to go further,
tried to come to a conclusion,
like you might come to a city on a train.
Tell me about your city
And I'll tell you about your city
And let's meet somewhere in the middle.
So how's this; this feels like sacred ground,
Old country. The way you speak, the ducks
Flying in formation through your conversation
Feels like I'm tuning in to something ancient,
Something real.
And how's this: this feels like an open place,
A map without real boundaries, taking the world in,
Shaking its hand, giving it a kiss and telling it
It looks gorgeous today, it does; that East Midlands emphasis
Like a maker's mark.
And how's this: remember the forest
That covered all this area once, the deep wood,
The wildwood? It feels to me that the
East Midlands is still a forest, a forest of stories,
A forest of poems, a forest of tales not yet told,
Waiting, waiting.
Tell me about your cities.
Tell me how I can know them.
I'm listening, I'm listening.
You sound gorgeous, you do,
East Midlands:
Now shape the sounds into stories and poems.
'Some bloke from Yorkshire.
I can do better than that.
I'm full of ideas,
I've had a right life,
I have...'
Now tell it.
Use this as a draft
And tell me more...
a secret garden as big as a tablecloth
and I sat in it to think; In Nottingham somebody
told me a story in an old, old pub and I listened,
and thought, and in Leicester, in the market
I heard the voices of the world raised,
and I thought and thought, and tried to go further,
tried to come to a conclusion,
like you might come to a city on a train.
Tell me about your city
And I'll tell you about your city
And let's meet somewhere in the middle.
So how's this; this feels like sacred ground,
Old country. The way you speak, the ducks
Flying in formation through your conversation
Feels like I'm tuning in to something ancient,
Something real.
And how's this: this feels like an open place,
A map without real boundaries, taking the world in,
Shaking its hand, giving it a kiss and telling it
It looks gorgeous today, it does; that East Midlands emphasis
Like a maker's mark.
And how's this: remember the forest
That covered all this area once, the deep wood,
The wildwood? It feels to me that the
East Midlands is still a forest, a forest of stories,
A forest of poems, a forest of tales not yet told,
Waiting, waiting.
Tell me about your cities.
Tell me how I can know them.
I'm listening, I'm listening.
You sound gorgeous, you do,
East Midlands:
Now shape the sounds into stories and poems.
'Some bloke from Yorkshire.
I can do better than that.
I'm full of ideas,
I've had a right life,
I have...'
Now tell it.
Use this as a draft
And tell me more...