NIC STRINGER
Books &c.
Nic Stringer is a poet who also creates visual & sound compositions as well as events and exhibitions as part of Corrupted Poetry & Fractured Strings
A day that you happen to know
Highly commended in The Forward Prizes 2018, best first collection
''Ambitious and engaging'' Rupert Loydell, Stride magazine
''Various and intriguing'' Martyn Crucefix
Hemispheres
COMING IN SUMMER 2021
Guillemot Press
Three poems from Hemispheres
will be published in the next edition of Under the Radar magazine
Music: we are instruments of inquiry
In the half-light, soundtrack to A day that you happen to know recorded by Fractured Strings at Surrey Studios
''An intriguing mix of John Cage meets Tangerine Dream with a little bit of Nurse With Wound thrown in'' (Rupert Loydell, Stride Magazine)
Get the CD, email your address to corruptedpoet@gmail.com
Suggested donation £5 using the button below
J'ai baise ta bouche © Nic Stringer
In print
Guillemot Press
A DAY THAT YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW
and THE CREEL
https://www.guillemotpress.co.uk/
Pamenar Press
ANTHOLOGY OF VISUAL POETRY
(Editor & contributor)
https://www.pamenarpress.com/books
Valley Press
ANTHOLOGY OF PROSE POETRY
https://www.valleypressuk.com/
Crested Tit Collective
REWILDING
https://crestedtitcollective.com/
Faber & Faber
THE FORWARD BOOK OF POETRY 2019
Poems and reviews have been published
in journals, including The Stand, Magma,
Interpreter's House, Structo, Eborakon
and Tears in the Fence
Artwork from the project Some parts have
been removed is in Issue 69 of Magma
Interview by Euan Monaghan at Structo
https://structomagazine.co.uk/blog/
Review: Aubrey Beardsley at Tate Britain
https://ab2020.org/aubrey-beardsley-and-the-spirit-of-prog/
Content on this website © Nic Stringer 2020
All rights reserved.
Please contact us with any questions
regarding reproduction.
Icebergs in Illulisat
In Disko Bay the growlers and the bergy bits
crack their knuckles, assemble for the birth.
It takes a musician’s ear to separate
the pattern – the falling notes from echoes
and returns, passed on by the underside
of waves. Not random but arrhythmic,
a natural if not melodic measure. We call
this an adventure, a reason to travel, but
remain as abstract as the lines of saturated
blues and bone-dry whites, drifting together
and apart.