Robyn Radcliffe

We invite you to attend a special workshop for the child within all of us. As adults, we are often bogged down by the drudgery and disappointments of having to contend with "life."

We long for the innocence, purity, fearlessness and unrelenting wonder of childhood, where anything was truly possible.

This free exploratory session will foray into a re-imagining scenario, using storytelling and active participation from all present, as we journey gently and with child-like anticipation, into alternative outcomes.

It is Heritage Month, but we welcome you to join us in rediscovering the parts of you inherent to your unique identity, through poetry, the power of the imagination and the beautiful process of reconnection.

Please contact Pendleton Poetry & Prose Productions or me to save your seat at Central Library, Seminar room 1.😊

These are the moments where nothing else matters, besides the "work." ❤️

Every small step is a win. Getting a poem published in Stanzas quarterly magazine.

Yesterday, we showcased some snippets of a few scenes by our amazing, hardworking young performers from "Macasser's Secret", the play. Proud of their progress!!

I offer private English tuition for both Primary and High School learners. Send me a DM and I'll respond with my rate and more details.

I have English Honours as well as over 15 years of diverse teaching and tutoring experience. Let me help your child improve today!

There are indelible moments born from not only the sharing of experiences through poetry, but the profound connection forged and held within the intimacy of speaking personal truths.

My co-poet/author and facilitator, Shaun Warner, affected all who gathered on Saturday, to discuss and reflect upon not only Mothers and Daughters, but Mothers and Sons as well.

His poem, "For Maria. In memoriam" in honour of his late mother, was a heartbreaking, heartfelt piece that was read with equal parts courage and vulnerability, as was the discussion that stemmed from it. Every single person was touched by his words, both poetically and prose-wise.

I shared a poem entitled "The Birth" where I requested the participants to close their eyes and imagine the journey of the girl/boy child from womb to world. Some of the women shared their own birthing experiences, harrowing and triumphant, shattering and deeply moving.

Central Library, Cape Town was the perfect venue to close off Women's Month, with a topic that spoke into the souls of all those that communed with us. Thank you, Mike Klink for hosting us.

The Birth of our first collaborative workshop event paves the way for many future endeavors, not only geared towards and committed to the highest form of literary pursuit, but to shifting and uplifting mindsets as well.

We are super excited for our Women's Month Workshop event, where, through poetry and prose, we will be sharing and creating discussion around the focal point of Mother and Daughter relationships.

Here is a sample of a few goodies that participants will receive in this interactive speaking and writing space.

There are still seats available.
This event is also open to boys/men.

Please RSVP with Shaun or with me.

See you at Central Library on Saturday!!

Things are shaping up for our first collaborative endeavor - "Mothers and Daughters." A successful venue visit at Central Library and meeting with FOCAL chairperson, Mike Klink, takes us one step closer to Saturday's workshop event.

Join us for an intimate, interactive session of poetry and connection. Details on poster!!

Thank you Bruinou.com for this write up. 💖

Explore Mother & Daughter Relationships at Interactive Poetry Session You are invited to Explore The Dynamics of Mother & Daughter Relationships presented Robyn Radciffe & Pendelton Poetry & Prose Productions on 26 August at the Cape Town Central Library. Poets Robyn Radcliffe and Shaun Warner will be presenting a Free Interactive Poetry and Prose Presentation, where....

This is what went down on Women's Day.

Things are revving up a gear in preparation of Macasser's Secret. Here are some of the cast members in a lighthearted moment. Some serious work still lies ahead!! 💪🏽

I'm really enjoying being in a space where I get to do online voice dialogue coaching with some of the cast members. My teacher roots prevail.

It's an amazing feeling assisting these talented youngsters in gaining more confidence with the English language and to feel more comfortable using "big words."

Today was drawn
with the painstaking care

of a young child's perfect
concentration

crayoned within the lines
of its distinctive silhouette

There is a glossy sheen
a green defiance of Winter

that even the toss of wind
and scant warmth cannot erase

As dusk will later lovingly
take the sun into its lap

cradling her into contemplative
serenity

Our thoughts could follow
in a flurry of to-do lists, met

Our minds might meander
into reminders of unspoken regret

We hope the lilt of a lullaby
composed in languid admiration

Of four seasons spilling fourth
In a single, effervescent day

and crooned into the eventide quiet
Will caress us as a song of comfort

E(merging) Memories

In the twilight of your daydreams
when dusk has dawned like shaded gold

Quiet keepsakes, haloed memories
flit across your mind in bold

Precious nuggets of the bygone
gleam and gently mock, then fade

As recollection grows a shadow
bittersweet its time has made

In the latent forming moments
of a deeply longing sigh

Just before the fading light
of yesteryear bids a fond goodbye

All nostalgia laced in remnants
of what was can now not be

Dusk and dawn become a sameness
past and present - mystery

Are you aware
of how the seasons swallow?

How light and dark
peak through a slit of
exposed curtain
groping frenetically
but seemingly uncertain

The sliver of moonbeam
might only be flirting
with a dancing shadow
dreaming of un******ng
unfettered on my pillow

Are you aware
of how the seasons swallow?

How Summer slakes
her ravenous thirst
ravishing lakes
and lapping at rivulets
golden tongue
catching droplets
dripping from the sweat
of your brow

Are you aware of
how the seasons swallow?

How Winter burns
to burrow
into the crevices
of your calming chaos
gentled in the unfurrowing
of its storm splattered face
nestled in the warm warren
of your safe haven

Did you know?

Written 12 June, 2022

A TRUE STORY

I was dreaming about the sea
When I coughed
And warmth spilled over me
Thick and sticky
Drowning the bedsheets
Soaking my pantaloons
Waking me from my reverie

I was dreaming about the sea
When I coughed
And the Red Sea parted
Drops of divine feminine
Life force
Spilled on the carpet
As I rushed to the toilet
Leaving a crimson trail
Of evidence in my wake

I was dreaming about the sea
When I coughed
Riding the waves
Turned into ridding stains
With bucket and cloth in tow
A monthly flow gone
Out of control
All because I
Bloody-unwell coughed

I was honored to share poetry at this Celebration of Life. Thank you dearest Carol for including me. Videos of the reading in the next update.

Your crows feet flew away
As your smile grew more fleeting

Life's lines drawn by a kaleidoscope
Of colourful crayoned
Happiness
Replaced by the smooth
Grey expanse
Of mental stress

Crinkling corners
Speaking of shared secrets
And memory pictures
Caved
Enslaved to a poker visage
Veiling the inner fight

A silent flight, leaving you feeling

like
so
much
less

Of a Man

The Transient Nature of Fame.

When all the world has placed you on a pedestal and you're looking down
At accolades, unending praise, achievements made of great renown

From high above, the perch you occupy will feel like a second skin
The bowing of your head a remnant of the humble you within

And as you gaze upon your glory days unfurled in full technicolour
The wise will also watch, their bones will chill in knowing, knot and groan and shudder

For just as the world has placed you far atop, it shall surely watch you drop
Perhaps because you looked askance and fixed your eyes on things more clearly

Maybe the perch grew heavy with the price of fame and you grew weary
The world will watch indifferently as its man-made god completes his fall

And with the former worship shattered now, the world won't care at all

We held our first round of auditions on Friday at the community centre in Macassar. The youngsters brought their best acting skills forward and fun was had amidst the seriousness of the moment. What an awesome bunch!!

Here's a sweet, nostalgic throwback to my 1996 lockably diary. The entries are for May 24-25. I was all of 14 years old and wrote diligently every day, recording the highs and lows of my adolescence.

I was quite the disciplined writer, back then. Could take a page out of my teenage book and apply it to my adulthood.

Write. Every. Day. Robyn.

So, We (The Future is now)

find our South African form
Fresh off the burial of the

still-warm
Body
Cadaver
Carcass

Choose your preferred synonym norm

Of "de-mock-race(Y)"

[Founded on derailed paper trails
The ideals of saints
And poverty's grip paved by ignorance]

The word has mocked (and for Y?)

Ever since

We have divested our pysches
Of this Dark Age
Tradition

One blackout too many...now we see

See?

So, We

Sought the wisdom
Of the ages
From those in existence
On society's periphery
Sages within our own sight

They brought a seer sense of knowledge
Taut with untaught intuition
Into hours sans electricity
Their foresight foreshadowed the light

So, We

Wrought with the underbelly
Of every Old Wives tale
Impaled on the backbone
Of fear based superstition

Found it fit to revolutionise

Fought the fourth wave of a stench so putrid
We gagged on the essence
of every quintessential act of stupid
Disguised as progression and providence

Every intake indeed made us wince

They didn't know
we had our own sorcery

Sourced directly
from a state of divinity

The state couldn't switch off this ability

Poised to alchemise
every poisoned inhalation
Positioned to blow
The counterfeit charm
Off every charlatans forgery

But, We

Lit all our candles in 2007
Didn't charge up to parliament
Like God's children to Heaven

Now we charge up our torches
And stock up on gas for our stoves
We've acquiesced since the beginning
We've bowed down in droves

We shed our loads on
Social media
An outlet without a socket
We're not plugged in at all
Yet surely we need this venting pocket

Shall, We

(Resignedly)

Check which stage we're in?

I love interacting with the youth. These talented individuals are on a journey of self expression, the beginning of unearthing their God-given gifts in a safe and conducive environment, and in an infinitely exciting way.

Throwback to some of my Poetry and Performance Masterclass moments at the U-khâi Arts and Culture Development event earlier this year.

To book me for any of my services, drop me a message here or email me at [email protected]

Yesterday, the Macassar Arts Project moved into its next new and exciting phase. We addressed the participants and their parents, outlying the plan for the next few months and I was given the opportunity to introduce myself and the role I have/will be playing.

In honour of World Poetry Day

Poetry is the resigned goodnight
when daylight has not left
a remnant of remembering

It is the whispered good morning
when the night has screamed
foul utterances into the sleeper's ear

It is the sound of waking, not quite
between the dawn and dusk
of the day's sentencing

Poetry is the beginning and the end
of the twilight world
of living and loving

It is the breath and release
That all-encompassing idea
Forever in flux, etched in feeling

It is the resonance of a million
Echoed hopes and dreams
Unencumbered yet fully enshrouded

By shadow and light

Poetry is the respite

Did your childhood capture itself
In lasting imprints
Of fleeting impressions
A photo faded album
Bound in the winsome

A time capsule created
Kids story
Carefree
The infinite of possibility
Forever buried beneath
The rubble of growing up
It seems like we're growing under

Adulthood seeks
That treasure filled trove
We dig a little deeper
But the dirt scares us

Out little selves
Would have laughed at the fuss

MONDAY MUSINGS from the mind of moi.

As a creative/writer/poet, I can support people, tune into a space of empathy (and create from that connective point) without having to identify as them.

It's part of my craft. Part of my being. From the outside, looking in but being able to feel everything.

I had an absolutely amazing time performing and engaging with fantastic people at the U-khâi Arts and Culture Development event held at Bellville South Community Centre yesterday. What a fitting way to spend Valentine's Day!! The love experienced was palpable. Thank you to Ralton and Ashwill for really bringing a wonderful day to fruition. ❤

Happening soon in Bellville South!!!

I'm super excited to be performing and facilitating at this awesome initiative.

I was so honored to share some of my more serious poetry, of a very sensitive nature, at a GBV awareness event held in Belhar by an amazing organisation called PRECO ( Poverty Relief and Empowerment for Change) founded by Aunty Faghmieda. The speakers were actual community workers, working tirelessly in the trenches and I was also impressed with the young lady from SAPS who spoke so passionately about GBV and what the procedures around these issues are.

16 days of activism should really be 365 days.