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This issue of PULSAR, the magazine of the Ligden Poetry Society, includes five poems from the 2003-04 Pulsar Poetry Competition, in addition to the usual mix of poetry, reviews, and news.

The winning poem in the competition, JAZZ, by Marc Swan, is jazzy-written without any punctuation, meant, perhaps, to be read aloud, with a bit of onomatopoeia and lots of repetition, but also clearly designed for the page and the eye, with its beguiling central justification. The poem is both a description of jazz itself, and an improvisation on a relationship:

	like a meringue
	or a soufflé
	done just right

Second prize was awarded to Louise Bent, whose poem DISCOVERY describes a poignant incident in a nice rhythmic style, while third prize went to Ruth Hall, for her poem LIGHT ON WATER, which celebrates a natural phenomenon, as does FOXGLOVES, by David Duncombe, FOXGLOVES, which is included here as a Recommended Poem from the competition.

Blair Ewing has two poems in this issue, one of which, REFLECTIONS IN THE AFTERMATH: ON NOT BEING ABLE TO BE MYSELF, is also a Recommended Poem. He has a talent for memorable phrases; in REFLECTIONS he writes:

	Knowing too many useless things
	strips the will like wire.

	...Pieces of
	language gleam in the
	river of tongues.

Other outstanding poems in the issue are UNREAL COMPETITION, by Frank Joussen, of Germany, who gives English words an altogether new look; ON READING RUSSIAN by Edward McAlonan, a story told in a dense prose-like style; and the short and spicy SWEET GIRL by Jennifer Harrington.

The only information given about the poets is their place of abode. Most of the poets are based in England, but there is work from poets in Scotland, Wales, Ireland (north and south), Italy, Austria, Germany, France and Shetland. For all the diversity of nationalities, there is a uniformity of style, which is not necessarily a bad thing — no nasty surprises between the covers for subscribers, anyway. However, a few good poems in other languages or dialects, or poems which take a few more stylistic risks, might not go amiss in a future issue.

Pulsar is published quarterly by Ligden Poetry Society. It is nicely produced with a full cover card cover and a pleasing layout. The first few pages are devoted to news and reviews, though there is no editorial. The inside back cover is devoted to a fascinating circulation list of magazines and organisations that receive Pulsar. The featured poets come from New Zealand and the USA as well as from across the UK, including a good showing of Scottish poets. The poems cover a variety of styles and subjects, though many are more or less domestic in scope, covering the familiar grounds of family life, ageing, love and moving house. Some of the poems are not particularly memorable, though almost all are well written. There are a number of more powerful poems that have something significant to say and say it well. Particularly striking is SICK by Karen R Porter, which begins:

	we admire the beauty
	of the injured sky
	jet trails
	carving it
	like razor tracks

	Orinoco brilliance,
	that elsewhere magic.

	They have their ruined Norman tower,
	the raucous tribe of rooks, endlessly circling,
	a blanket of lichen and old grey stone.

	We ate the nettles that night.
	It was just as he had said.
	Boiled down there was no bite.

Pulsar compares favourably to many other small press poetry journals and has enough poetry with bite to make it worth going back to.

Forty issues and ten years down the line, Pulsar has become a fine North Wiltshire institution. While its production values are high, it remains a very reasonable purchase and an enjoyable and varied read.

In this special issue, David Pike emerges from his normally self-deprecating editorial shadows to reflect on the magazine. His tone is bright and concise and, in a question and answer format, the magazine's history, tastes and character are outlined. In noting that Pulsar is not self-financing, the editorial also rather dryly points out that most of the contributors to this edition are not subscribers. Fair comment!

Unsurprisingly, Pike allows himself only a couple of hundreds words, to clear immediate space for one of Pulsar's specialities, the 'Live' Poetry Reviews. There are accounts of two events, with an emphasis on content, rather than judgment. David Johnson, for example brought humour to the verbal medium, in a piece about a school-based infatuation:

I looked for a sign from her, she gave me a tangent ... all she wanted to do was put down square roots

let the lard come into your life, you may despise malted bran ... for pepper and pepper, ah-Bisto.

Pulsar's reviews sections is also distinctive, covering a lot of ground in a few pages. Each contributor concentrates on honed and helpful commentary on the reviewed materials.

Ultimately, of course, poetry speaks the loudest volumes, and it occupies the twenty-four remaining pages of the magazine. This selection is both cosmopolitan and diverse. I SAW THE KLAN TODAY, by Cliff Brooks, makes a sinister opener, combining some stark imagery with a vivid recollection of the

	violently dancing phantoms
	in wedding white

	the slurs crept in but quickly moved out
	as my heart is a blade against them.

				... we pin
	our hopes on Vilny, a frontier town
	we think we've seen on maps.
	Or is it a terminus of the mind ...?

	That day, the motorway, weird urge to stop;
	The hospital, mere ambulance away.
	Caved in; no notion of who or what he was.

	Even anarchists ...
	... are crap now.

	more important than
		he Cause.

					You kicked me
	chiding me for a brief and bitter judgement I had passed,

	a small satire much needed in that room, and in that moment
	as the whole world wobbled and settled, I knew I was in love.

	could be envisaged,
	but not admired.

Congratulations to Pulsar for ten fertile years, a broad-minded, astute and professional house style and, most importantly, the provision of a platform for a wide variety of good writers from across the globe.