Showing posts with label paul cree. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paul cree. Show all posts
Monday, 25 May 2015
Sunday, 30 September 2012
A Pale Shade of White
On Wednesday this week, whilst at the launch for the Ryming Thunder book, my friend and fellow Rubix member Bridget Minamore performed a poem called Melanie. It's a very good piece of writing and inspired me to dig this one out, which isn't actually that old, I'd just forgotten about it
You can read and see more of Bridget right HERE
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Words From The Archives: #2 The Boy
Continuing on from last week, here's another old one I have drawn for.
Again, I wrote this during the 1st term I did back in 2009 with The Roundhouse Poetry Collective guided by Polabear. We were specially asked to write a piece, from the 3rd person, purely descriptive and without giving a voice to the characters thoughts.The Leisure centre and snooker room I was trying to describe was based on the old Crawley Leisure Centre, which is now long since gone and made way for a new build development.
This was still around the time when I used to write entirely in capitals.
3RD PERSON (THE BOY)
THE BOY WALKS THROUGH THE AUTOMATIC DOORS
TAKING NOTE OF THE WHITE STICKER'S ON BOTH DOORS,
THEY SAY "AUTOMATIC DOORS"
AS BOTH DOORS GO TO THE LEFT AND RIGHT RESPECTIVLY
THE PARTING OF THE DOORS LIKE THE PARTING OF THE SEAS
THE SMELL OF CHORLINE HITS HIS NOSE,
AND THE DISTANT NOISE OF ADOLESCANT SCREAMS
TICKLES HIS EARS DRUMS
DRESSED IN JEANS AND A JUMPER
THE JUMPER FAILING TO DISGUISE THE EXCESS WEIGHT ROUND HIS WAISTE
HARDLY THE ATTIRE OF A LESIURE CENTRE GOER
HE HEADS FOR THE YOUNG LADY AT THE RECEPTION DESK
THE LADY BEHIND THE DESK,
DRESSED,
IN A SPORTS POLO AND TRACKSUIT BOTTOMS
ANSERWS THE BOYS REQUEST,
TO COMMANDEER THE SNOOKER TABLE FOR THE NEXT 2 HOURS
THE BOY COLLECTS,
THEN INSPECTS
THE BLACK TRAY OF SPINNING BALLS,
2 QUES AND A BLOCK OF CHALK
AS HIS PODGY FINGERS PART WITH HIS CASH
THE BOYS TAKES A GLANCE BACK,
TOWARDS THE ENTRENCE THEN HE DRAWS A DEEP BREATH
THE YOUNG LADY BEHIND RECEPTION,
THEN BEGINS TO ISSUE THE INSTRUCTIONS,
DIRECTING THE BOY TO THE SNOOKER ROOM
BEFORE SHE HAS EVEN FINISHED,
THE BOY IS A QUATER OF THE WAY UP THE STAIRS
FACE CONCENTRATED LIKE A MAN ON A MISSION
HOLDING THE TRAY FULL OF SPINNING BALLS
LIKE A WAITER BALANCING A DELICATE PLATE
THE BOY MAKES HIS WAY
HE WALKS DOWN A CORRIDOR
THROUGH THE BROWN FIRE DOOR DOUBLE DOORS
AND OUT ONTO THE NEXT CORRIDOOR
WHICH SERVS AS A PROMENADE
OVER LOOKING THE SWIMMING POOL
THE BOY LOOKS OVER THE EDGE,
4 VERICAL LINES OF SEGREGATION SLICE THROUGH THE POOL
PARTITNIONED ACCORDING TO LEVEL OF PRACTICE
THE LANE AT THE FAR END SEEMS TO CATCH HIS EYE,
BEGINNERS,
SMALL GROUPS OF MOTHERS AND FATHERS,
SPLASHING ROUND WITH RELUCTANT INFLATABLE ARM BAND CLAD KIDS
WHILST THE REST OF THE PEOPLE JUST GO UP AND DOWN,
BACK AND FORTH
THE BOY JUST TUTS AND TWISTS
THE TWO SNOOKER QUES GRIPPED IN HIS RIGHT HAND,
AS THE PROMENADE ENDS,
AND JUST BECOMES ANOTHER STERILE CORRIDOR
3 WALLS TURNED BACK TO 4
ORDER RESTORED
THE BOY WALKS FORWARDS,
AND SEEMS TO IGNOIRE
THE POSTER CLAD WALLS OF KICKBOXAISE, KEEP FIT AND PILATES
UNTIL HE STOPES AT THE DOOR THAT INDICATES "ROOM 19, SNOOKER"
HE WALKS THROUGH THE DOOR AND ENTERS THE ROOM,
HE CASTS A GLANCE LEFT AND RIGHT
ALL HE SEES IS TWO FULL SISE SNOOKER TABLES,
DOMINATING THE SPACE
HE HEADS TO THE TABLE ON HIS LEFT
AND RESTING THE QUE'S UP AGAINST THE EDGE
HE PLACES THE BALLS AND CHALK ONTO THE GREEN FELT
THE BOY THEN HEADS TOWADRS THE SCOREBORAD,
AND THEN SLIDES ALL THE GOLD SQUARES BACK TO 0
HE WAITS
THEN HESITATES
HIS EYES MOVE BACK AND FORTH TOWARDS THE DOOR
THE BOY TUTS AND THEN MUMBLES AN EXPLITIVE
AND TAKES A RED BALL FROM THE TRAY,
AND LINES IT UP ON THE D
HE PLACES THE WHITE BALL,
AT THE OPPOSIYE END OF THE TABLE
AND ASSUMES HIS QUEING POSITION
THE BOY SMAHES THE WHITE TOWARDS THE RED
THE RED AND WHITE COLLIDE WITH FORCE
AND RIQUOET OFF INTO DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS
THE BOY THEN REPEATS THIS SEVERAL TIMES
WITH EACH STRIKE MORE AGGRESIVE THAN THE LAST
UNTIL FINALLY
HE MIS-QUES HIS LAST HIT
ONLY SKIMMING THE TOP OF THE WHITE BALL
THE WHITE THEN FEEBLY ROLLS TOWARDS THE RED
POSITIONED NEAR TO A CORNER AT THE FAR END
THE WHITE MISSES THE RED
AND ROLLS INTO THE EMPTY POCKET,
SUNK
Again, I wrote this during the 1st term I did back in 2009 with The Roundhouse Poetry Collective guided by Polabear. We were specially asked to write a piece, from the 3rd person, purely descriptive and without giving a voice to the characters thoughts.The Leisure centre and snooker room I was trying to describe was based on the old Crawley Leisure Centre, which is now long since gone and made way for a new build development.
This was still around the time when I used to write entirely in capitals.
3RD PERSON (THE BOY)
THE BOY WALKS THROUGH THE AUTOMATIC DOORS
TAKING NOTE OF THE WHITE STICKER'S ON BOTH DOORS,
THEY SAY "AUTOMATIC DOORS"
AS BOTH DOORS GO TO THE LEFT AND RIGHT RESPECTIVLY
THE PARTING OF THE DOORS LIKE THE PARTING OF THE SEAS
THE SMELL OF CHORLINE HITS HIS NOSE,
AND THE DISTANT NOISE OF ADOLESCANT SCREAMS
TICKLES HIS EARS DRUMS
DRESSED IN JEANS AND A JUMPER
THE JUMPER FAILING TO DISGUISE THE EXCESS WEIGHT ROUND HIS WAISTE
HARDLY THE ATTIRE OF A LESIURE CENTRE GOER
HE HEADS FOR THE YOUNG LADY AT THE RECEPTION DESK
THE LADY BEHIND THE DESK,
DRESSED,
IN A SPORTS POLO AND TRACKSUIT BOTTOMS
ANSERWS THE BOYS REQUEST,
TO COMMANDEER THE SNOOKER TABLE FOR THE NEXT 2 HOURS
THE BOY COLLECTS,
THEN INSPECTS
THE BLACK TRAY OF SPINNING BALLS,
2 QUES AND A BLOCK OF CHALK
AS HIS PODGY FINGERS PART WITH HIS CASH
THE BOYS TAKES A GLANCE BACK,
TOWARDS THE ENTRENCE THEN HE DRAWS A DEEP BREATH
THE YOUNG LADY BEHIND RECEPTION,
THEN BEGINS TO ISSUE THE INSTRUCTIONS,
DIRECTING THE BOY TO THE SNOOKER ROOM
BEFORE SHE HAS EVEN FINISHED,
THE BOY IS A QUATER OF THE WAY UP THE STAIRS
FACE CONCENTRATED LIKE A MAN ON A MISSION
HOLDING THE TRAY FULL OF SPINNING BALLS
LIKE A WAITER BALANCING A DELICATE PLATE
THE BOY MAKES HIS WAY
HE WALKS DOWN A CORRIDOR
THROUGH THE BROWN FIRE DOOR DOUBLE DOORS
AND OUT ONTO THE NEXT CORRIDOOR
WHICH SERVS AS A PROMENADE
OVER LOOKING THE SWIMMING POOL
THE BOY LOOKS OVER THE EDGE,
4 VERICAL LINES OF SEGREGATION SLICE THROUGH THE POOL
PARTITNIONED ACCORDING TO LEVEL OF PRACTICE
THE LANE AT THE FAR END SEEMS TO CATCH HIS EYE,
BEGINNERS,
SMALL GROUPS OF MOTHERS AND FATHERS,
SPLASHING ROUND WITH RELUCTANT INFLATABLE ARM BAND CLAD KIDS
WHILST THE REST OF THE PEOPLE JUST GO UP AND DOWN,
BACK AND FORTH
THE BOY JUST TUTS AND TWISTS
THE TWO SNOOKER QUES GRIPPED IN HIS RIGHT HAND,
AS THE PROMENADE ENDS,
AND JUST BECOMES ANOTHER STERILE CORRIDOR
3 WALLS TURNED BACK TO 4
ORDER RESTORED
THE BOY WALKS FORWARDS,
AND SEEMS TO IGNOIRE
THE POSTER CLAD WALLS OF KICKBOXAISE, KEEP FIT AND PILATES
UNTIL HE STOPES AT THE DOOR THAT INDICATES "ROOM 19, SNOOKER"
HE WALKS THROUGH THE DOOR AND ENTERS THE ROOM,
HE CASTS A GLANCE LEFT AND RIGHT
ALL HE SEES IS TWO FULL SISE SNOOKER TABLES,
DOMINATING THE SPACE
HE HEADS TO THE TABLE ON HIS LEFT
AND RESTING THE QUE'S UP AGAINST THE EDGE
HE PLACES THE BALLS AND CHALK ONTO THE GREEN FELT
THE BOY THEN HEADS TOWADRS THE SCOREBORAD,
AND THEN SLIDES ALL THE GOLD SQUARES BACK TO 0
HE WAITS
THEN HESITATES
HIS EYES MOVE BACK AND FORTH TOWARDS THE DOOR
THE BOY TUTS AND THEN MUMBLES AN EXPLITIVE
AND TAKES A RED BALL FROM THE TRAY,
AND LINES IT UP ON THE D
HE PLACES THE WHITE BALL,
AT THE OPPOSIYE END OF THE TABLE
AND ASSUMES HIS QUEING POSITION
THE BOY SMAHES THE WHITE TOWARDS THE RED
THE RED AND WHITE COLLIDE WITH FORCE
AND RIQUOET OFF INTO DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS
THE BOY THEN REPEATS THIS SEVERAL TIMES
WITH EACH STRIKE MORE AGGRESIVE THAN THE LAST
UNTIL FINALLY
HE MIS-QUES HIS LAST HIT
ONLY SKIMMING THE TOP OF THE WHITE BALL
THE WHITE THEN FEEBLY ROLLS TOWARDS THE RED
POSITIONED NEAR TO A CORNER AT THE FAR END
THE WHITE MISSES THE RED
AND ROLLS INTO THE EMPTY POCKET,
SUNK
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Crawley Wordfest: Spoken Word Sunday 1st April
Greetings!
This Sunday (1st April 2012), at Adelio's Open House in Crawley, I've asked to put together a spoken word evening as part of the ever expanding Crawley Wordfest. Now in it's second year, it's come on even stronger than last, all you need to do is have a look at the programme of events on the website. This is a great thing for me to be part of as Crawley is the town where I did a lot of my growing up. I went to school there, I had and still have, good friends there, I first MCed in Crawley, I played football in Crawley, I went to cadets in Crawley, I got drunk (many times) in Crawley the list goes on....
I've called upon some good friends and some of London's strongest performers to come down and grace the stage, they go by the names of Dean Atta Rob Auton and Sean Mahoney.
Doors open at 7:30 and it's a mere £3 on the door!
This is a video I did for last year's festival with Simon Edwards from Pop Up Media.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)