Oh dear, once again only a sentence, but as my friend Niki has just pointed out, a badly conceived sentence will often sprawl into a well conceived paragraph….not, however, on this occasion…

ARGH!

November 7, 2007

Oh no! Nearly outta time before I miss todays Nablopomo deadline!

Happy Guy Fawkes

November 6, 2007

knife –
Forks,
Snide-Talks,
Glide-Hawks,
Happy Explosions –
Acrid Air, Burnt Night.
Happy Cut-Up-Skies.
Happy Fried-Porks,
Died-Thoughts, Cried-Corks.
Happy Charred Bodies,
Quartered Conspirators,
Twisted Sparklers,
Men on Pires.
Happy Day of the Dead,
Fire in the Dark,
Necessary Flickering,
Desperate Measure.
Happy in-the-dark
but-don’t-leave-us-’cause
roars, balls, claws –
Fawkes.

With the Bodies

November 6, 2007

With the bodies
of my discarded pages

I could cut a
school of slanting fish

I could lift
a flock white bone of bird,

I could rain
crumpled moons,

watch them sink.

With the bodies
of my discarded pages

I could collate
a book of ‘the’

the letter ‘a’ the word
‘and’. I could sift

a lexicon of new starts
slip them over lines of grey strung chords

With the bodies
of my discarded pages

I could tear out lines
like babies’ hearts.

I could crush
their paper weights,

I could tip
their tangled sighs and darts,

their breathy throats
into the waste

disposal of my building.
I could let them fly

the long way down.
If I could bear

to see their faces.

Gig-a-gig

November 4, 2007

Apparently, 4ish in the afternoon appears to have become the blogging hour. At least for me. At least this weekend. It seems to slip quite neatly into my weekend routine of: getting up late, wandering into town, coming home exhausted and encountering the computer.

Yesterday, I slipped a 4 o’clock post between arriving home, falling asleep and waking up, with only a quarter of an hour to spare before the start of the Hindmost film screening, I’d been planning on going to. This wasn’t a disaster. It did however mean wolfing down a half cooked stromboli (posh part-baked Marks and Sparks bread) and legging it out the house …only to miss the first half of the being screened films.

But let me go back a bit: Hindmost. Hindmost was a short film, written and directed by Alison Dunn (genius of the many creative talents) and featuring me as the devil. It was being screened at Leicester’s Phoenix Arts as on of the chosen CAN International films. The festival culminates tonight with an award ceremony, but awards aside, being part of the project was great.

After  last night’s screening, I and Alison were interviewed, upstairs in the Phoenix Cafe. I could have acquitted myself with slightly more decorum than my rather churlish: “Noooo-not without my makeup” but to be fair, I had only just rolled of the sofa, and wasn’t wildly keen on having my un-brushed, un-washed, un-made-up in general and only one step above pajama-suited-self exposed to any kind of permanent preservation. I did of course, sound incredibly vain.

In the end the interview was actually fine. We were asked us for our film festival favs, aswell as the best and worst parts of making Hindmost. All good fun-as was seeing the film up on the big screen.

To be honest this weekend’s been quite exciting for arty type gigs. I don’t think I mentioned before, but on Friday there was the Tripod Launch – (the magazine I got a piece into) and I was asked to perform as part of it. Was really great to do.

The launch event was actually pretty unusual. A good number of people packed into the Leicester Depot, and 4 of us took to the (movable) stage to perform, one after another. I say movable, because due to the non-performance suited nature of the venue, there wasn’t really an obvious or ideal place to stand-so people just took their pick and the audience shuffed and spun to accommodate. Oddly, I reckon this actually worked. Gave the whole gig the atmosphere of a house party, all laid back and lovely. But it did go on a bit longer than the promoters had had in mind, I think. Still, one of the nicest gigs I’ve had lately.

This Wednesday, they’ll be another one: WORD! at Bambu. I’m down to compere so I’ve got to sort some decent poems for the first and second halves, and the planning of this months gig, has not been problem free…

We had had Malika Booker down as booked act-and also to deliver a poetry masterclass on the same day. I’d been particularly looking forward to seeing her again, because she’d mentored me on the Freedom Showcase, and we’d really got on. Sadly, she cancelled at the end of last week, due to an unexpected commitment elsewhere and we’ve had to scrabble around to rearrange.

We’ve been ridiculously lucky to get Zena Edwards instead – a remarkable performer with sizable profile and growing reputation. So, all’s well, blah blah…it’s still, however going to be an effort with the compering, as many of the (even larger) expected audience will be coming expecting to see Malika-and we’ll have no way of letting them no in advance about the change. Prob won’t be a huge prob-it’s just ANOTHER thing to work into the presenting (sigh)

Right. Still no poetry in this Nablo posting thing, but still another post done. Off to the gym now, but expect I’ll be back typing here soon…

Quite tired

November 3, 2007

I’m lying flat out on my crumpled sofa. Back seat cushions, lolling over the keyboard. Typing hands, pinned to the sides of the keyboard. I am very, very, tired. Not done much in the way of writing today, but alot seems to have got done nontheless. The main thing to have happened, is that I and Damo have booked a holiday.

We’ve been thinking about going away for ages. We never used to but this time last year we went to Wales. It was great. Stupidly lovely in fact-afterall, Wales in Winter is not a typical holiday destination. We were actually thinking of going back there again…but  then we started thinking last minute deals. We popped into the travel agents this aft; came  out with a holiday to Egypt! We’re going to Luxor! Can’t believe we just booked it, but  think it was a good choice. We got it for nearly half price and I’ve hardly been anywhere abroad so far-so this’ll really allow me to continue with the wing spreading:)

In a bit, I shall be off to see the short film wot Alison made and wot I’m in. For now though, I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit. This tiredness, could be the walking around all day in negative heel trainers…or it could be the half box of tiny chocolate teddy bears I’ve just consumed. Ah well…

Bad Day Heavy (2)

November 1, 2007

Last night,
balmy weather and we
left the window open like a
cats square mouth.

We lay against each other
folded in the sofa,
broken down and old-
but we were dark. We were

bad day heavy –
but you always know
how to pick me up.
We were holding hands.

We were leaning arms.
Resting trees, we were
twisted plants,
last night

when the grey ran heavy
and the air pitched tight
in the balmy weather
that you always make –

’cause you always know
how to pick me up –
Shall I tell you what?
From that dark blue feeling

shall I tell you how
that we made it out?
Well we just did nothing,
we just sat down tight

two bright figures,
sitting in the dark-
but we always know
how to pick us up.

Open palm pressing open joint
while the soft wind rustled,
and the curtain blew
open like a mouth.

We just flicked the heating on-
soft glow beating
on our bare white parts
we just

curled around the cars
gliding through the night-time
with their airline blast.
We were

good day heavy.
We were
‘A’ alright,
we were ok.

We were gonna be
we were gonna climb-
we were
just fine

’cause we picked each other up
’cause we always know
’cause we always are.
then we went to bed.

Bad Day Heavy

November 1, 2007

Last night,
balmy weather and we
left the window open like a
cats square mouth
patched against the darkness
curtain like a flag,

we lay against each other
folded in the sofa,
broken down and old-
but we were dark. We were
bad day heavy –

but you always know
how to pick me up.

We were holding hands.
We were leaning trees.
We were twisted plants

last night,
when the grey ran heavy
and the air pitched tight
in the balmy night-

that you always make
when you pick me up

Shall I tell you what?

From that dark, dark feeling
shall I tell you how
that we made it out?

Well we didn’t do nothing,
we just sat down tight
two bright figures,
so damn tired-

but we always know
how to pick us up

we just waited quiet-
open palm
pressing open hand
and the wind rushed,
through the curtain billowed
open like a mouth and we

flicked the heating on-

we just
lay down gently, warm glow
on our white parts
we just
curled around the cars
blowing through the night-time
we were
good day heavy
we were
‘A’ alright
we were ok,
we were gonna be
we were gonna climb-

Like we always know
when we pick us up

then we went to bed.