Seán Street is a writer, broadcaster and poet. He is also Emeritus Professor at Bournemouth University, and now lives in Liverpool. This site profiles some of his work in prose, poetry and sound.
It's a long cold swim from here to bright late April.
True, there are islands full of wine, warm candles,
but once beyond the shallows harsher waves will take
us with their iced deep-water winds into the lake.
You see it's post-December battling really starts –
all weeks are killers, but it's New Year breaks most hearts.
Spring tides can rise, drown hope without a fight –
I've seen it sink for the third time, the end in sight.
Just when there's warmth again, gold from a brighter sun,
when there's green on distant land, comes crucifixion.
Beyond this, other dreams defying fact;
beyond this Hellespont perhaps light, let's drink to that.
From Radio and Other Poems (Rockingham Press)
Street unearths loss, memory and redemption from English terrain like few other poets.
The formal precision...and the burnished language are reminiscent of Geoffrey Hill...Cello is a beautifully achieved collection infused with all the craft that Street has acquired throughout his extensive career. The poems are both detached and perfectly crafted.
Seán Street's poetry collections can be bought through the following sites:
Rockingham Press titles Cello/Time Between Tides/ Radio & Other Poems may be purchased from Inpress Books:
Lapwing Publications' Jazz Time, available direct from the publisher: https://sites.google.com/a/lapwingpublications.com/lapwing-store/sean-street
For further details see Poetry
On The Memory of Sound:
Street's profound insights weave through every chapter in this masterful work, each a cherished ode to the documentation and preservation of sound. For that I thank him.
Dmae Roberts, (Peabody Award winning Independent Public Radio producer.)
An important book by a writer who understands the power of sound as a broadcaster, as a researcher, as a listener, and, above all, as a poet. Seán Street brilliantly illuminates how sound, our first and last sense, runs like a flash of lightning through time lost and found.
Piers Plowright, (Radio Features Producer)