My most recent collection The Tempest Prognosticator is published by Salt in the UK and Random Umuzi in South Africa. My earlier collection A Fold in the Map is published by Salt in the UK and Jacana in South Africa. You can read more about these books and other publications (like joint work on the sinking of RMS Titanic, The Debris Field, published by Sidekick Books) here, along with poems, details of forthcoming readings and the odd snippet of news (for more, you can visit isobeldixon.tumblr.com).

I am currently working on a collaboration with Scottish artist Douglas Robertson, inspired by DH Lawrence's poems in Birds, Beasts and Flowers. More detail and images can be found here and in forthcoming journal publications.

 

New Work

 

2 Poems in Prairie Schooner

2 Poems in Magma 59

3 Poems in The Interpreter's House, Issue 56

'Stars, Flowers, Grass & Us' in The Dark Horse

'Nobodies' in The Mimic Octopus

 'Suitcase Heart' in Popshot 11

 Other work forthcoming in:

Verse Junkies

The New Statesman

 

Events 


25 July: 'The Twilight of the Iguana'

Poetry School Summer School Workshop

Friday 15 August, 8pm:

6 Poets at the Fruitmarket Gallery, Edinburgh,

See more on events here.

 

Some Reviews

 

Interview on LitNet, May 2013

Debris in The Island Review

British Council Writers

The Tempest Prognosticator

'Dixon's Strange New World'

'Rich Reward for Readers'

A Fold in the Map:

The Mail & Guardian

The Financial Times

 

  Every Valley Shall Be Exalted


Ours still surprises – fantastical towers,

the stacked volcanic chimneys

and that miraculous answering voice,

 

a valley to rejoice in, something known

beyond our town, a cause for small renown

in tourist brochures. And its poetic name –

 

The Valley of Desolation – some

geographical gravitas

lent to us by prehistoric forces.

 

The steep and twisting drive, and the walk

to the peak, where they built a hyphen

of a wall to keep us from the irresistible,

 

the fall, to the tumbled heaps of rocks,

below the Paolozzi pipes – the height

making the spekboom and acacia thorn seem soft.

 

Euphoric vertigo, the plunging view,

the letting go: into the echo’s

duplicating source, the granite heart

 

of the Karoo where the lizard shimmers,

liquid, in the drought.  The road

to home has not yet been made straight.

 

 

From The Tempest Prognosticator