Words From The Archives: #4 Coffee Shop

Around about this time, in 2008, whilst on a work / birthday doo at the roller disco in Vauxhall, I fell over, fractured my elbow, got put in plaster and was signed off work for 2 weeks. Despite the inconvenience of not having the use of my right arm for a while and some extremely intense physio afterwards (I was in tears every week) it was one of the best 2 weeks I'd had in years...

I was living in Brixton at the time and had borrowed 2 books from Brixton library which were on the required reading list for this creative writing course I was due to attend at Birkbeck college. The cafe in the poem was on acre lane and had only recently opened.

The poem itself was typical of the kind of stuff I used to write back then and does make me cringe a little bit. The course I took marked the beginning of the end of this sort of thing for me, for now anyway...

COFFEE SHOP

IM OFF WORK ON THE SICK
I WAS IN THE FLAT WANTING TO ESCAPE
IM STARTING A COURSE IN A WEEK
GOT BOOKS FROM A LIST THAT I NEED TO READ

SO TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THOSE FOUR
I STEPPED OUT MY DOOR
PUT MY FEET TO THE STREET

NEAR WHERE I RESIDE
SITUATED ON A CORNER
IS A LITTLE COFFEE SHOP
WHICH I'VE NEVER TRIED

NOW IM NOT MR CULTURE
AND CERTINLY NOT SPOHISTICATED
BUT I'VE TRIED A FEW THINGS
HERBAL TEAS AND SOYA BEANS

ONE OR TWO VEGGIES DISHES
AND FROM MY FREINDS I'VE HAD MANY SNIGGERS
I JUST TRY KEEP ON OPEN MIND
BUT I DON'T WISH TO LEAVE CERTAIN THINGS BEHIND
IM NOT ADVERSE TO A GEASEY SPOON

BUT COFFEE SHOPS?
ONCE OR TWICE MAYBE
DUNNO 
I GIVE EM A WIDE BERTH REALLY
I DONT DRINK COFFEE

BUT IM OFF WORK
AND I NEED TO READ 
AND I DO LIKE
A NICE CUP OF TEA

SO WHY NOT?
I ENTERED IN
ASKED FOR A CUP OF TEA
THE LADY BEHIND THE COUNTER
THEN ASKED ME
CAMMOLILE, FRUIT, EARL GREY, BEAKFAST OR GREEN?

IN MY HEAD I REPLIED "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?"
"I WANT A CUPPA!!" BUT THAT WAS IN MY DREAMS
I POLITLEY REPLIED "BREAKFAST PLEASE"
SHE THEN SAID "WOULD YOU LIKE MILK WITH THAT?"
IN MY HEAD I SAID "THATS A STUPID QUESTION YOU SILLY PRAT"

BUT IM NOT LIKE THAT
SO I POLLITLEY REPLIED "YES PLEASE"
I UNDERTAND THESE COFFEE SHOPS CATER FOR A DEMOGRAPHIC
FAR WIDEER THAN THE LIKES OF ME
FROM A SMALL INWARD LOOKING A TOWN AT THE ARSE END OF SURREY

I THEN HAD A QUICK GLANCE
AT THE FOOD ON THE MENU
NOW IT OFTEN BAFFLED ME AS A CHILD IN CHURCH
THE PROCESS OF A WAFER SUDDENLY BECOMING 
A SMALL SLICE FROM THE BODY OF CHRIST
I BELIVE THEY CALL THIS TRANSUBSTANTIATION

CURIOUS AGAIN I WONDERED HOW
SOME CHEAP WHITE BREAD, OLIVES AND PESTO
MAGICLALLY BECOMES MEDITERIANIAN
AND £4.50

SO WHEN THE WOMAN SAID "ANYTHING ELSE?"
I SAID NO THANKYOU AND PAID FOR MY TEA


SO I GOT MY TEA
AND SAT ON THIS AKWARDELEY HIGH
UNCOMFORTABLE STOOL
WITHOUT A BACK
ON A BENCH SURFACE
BY A WINDOW
AND PROCEEDED TO GET MY BOOK OUT OF MY BAG

TEN MINUTIES PAST,
AND THAT STOOL WAS HURTING MY ARSE
AND THAT LACK OF A BACK WAS HURTING MY BACK
NOW I UNDERSTAND THEY WANT AN INTELLIGANT CLINETLLE
AND TO DISCOURAGE THE RIFF RAFF
BUT DO THEY REALLY HAVE TO INSIST ON PLAYING THIS PONCY JAZZ

I LIKE MUSIC BUT NOT THIS
ITS GETTING ON MY NERVS
IM TRYING TO READ 
BUT I CAND CONCENTRATE ON THE FLIPPIN WORDS

HONESTLEY,
THIS COFEE CULTURE
WHATS IT ALL ABOUT
A COFEFE HOUSE
ITS A CAFE

BOLLOX TO AN OPEN MIND THIS IS CRAP

THE WHOLE THINGS A PARADOX, A MUG OFF
FUCK THIS
IM NOT A MUG
SO I FINISHED MY TEA
POLLITLEY SAID
"THANKYOU"
AND WENT TO THE PUB

Music, it's all gone full circle!

Greetings!

This is a little update to let you know about some music projects I've been working on of late...

For anyone that's known me for a while, or for that matter has ever listened to me talk about myself, which, I do, erm, probably a bit more than I should... the'l know prior to entering the world of Poetry and Spoken Word, I was a rapper and an MC, prior to that I was a drummer, prior to that I was a fan of music! I've been lucky enough to be born into a family of music and have had many different influences around me my whole life.

So about 18 months ago I was offered the chance to go into the studio of Conrad Murray aka Cakey Monkey. I knew Con through working on theatre projects at BAC, and together with Dani Marshall whom I also know from BAC (but did'nt know at the time she possessed the voice of an angel) we put this track together (the working title is Outcast) as a little experiment, it was the first time I'd been 'in the booth' rapping for a few years

We all clicked pretty quickly and soon enough a whole project was born. At the moment, a lot of it is still under wraps but here's another work in progress track (Working title Time, Blood Sweat and Tears). 



and then finally, as if going back to rapping wasn't enough, I was just last week invited to play drums on the video shoot for Conrad's Hip Hop group Rodium (Cakey Monkey, Joypad B and Killer PLO). I must say, I was a bit rusty too begin with but it was a lot of fun in a dirty old studio round the back of the legendary Tin Pan Alley!
Here's a sneaky behind the scenes video for the track You're A Star.



To top it all off, I've been working on my self produced EP which I hope at some point will see the light of day! Who knows...

Hope you enjoy these as much as I did!

Cross Roads

Greetings!

Last night I saw a screening of a very amazing documentary about the London riots called Riot From Wrong made by a group of very talented young people, in fact, just people. It's a mugg off calling them Young People because the documentary would more than stand on its own against anything  I've seen or read so far on the riots. I was very moved by it! If you get a chance, watch!

I was a fortunate enough to be asked to perform as part of the screening which was a real pleasure. Funnily enough, I'd just finished recording the video to Crossroads last week when I got the email asking me to take part in the screening. 

The video below was filmed by Mellow 9 Productions. Hope you enjoy!

Words From The Archive: #3 Gill's secret Santa

So this one here I must have wrote back in 2006. It was before I'd ever gone to a single poetry night because I read it out the first time I performed at Poetry Unplugged, and that was in April 2007.
I have a whole file of these poems, mostly quite silly and generally with punchlines at the end and nearly all with unimagintaive titles like this one. 
It was written for a lady called Gill, unsurprisingly, who was the manager of the accounts department of a small finance company I used to work for. In that great office Christmas tradition we all did a Secret Santa and I drew her name. Instead of going for the usual wacky presents in the £10 region, like dildo's or penis enlargement kits, I opted to write her this and stick in a frame. I think I put some nice bath salts in with in with it as well so it was not a complete cop out. Anyway, she laughed when she read it and actually rang the number at the bottom, suffice to say I wasn't comedy enough to have used to a real one....


GILL'S SECRET SANTA

YOU SIT THERE WORKING HARD WITH ALL THE FIGURES AND THE FACTS
LOTS OF DIFFERENT NUMBERS MUST EQUATE TO A LOT OF MATHS
YOU SOUND LIKE YOU MUST KNOW KNOW YOUR JOB,
AND WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO
BUT IF YOU ASK ME WHAT YOU DO,
I REALLY HAVANT GOT A CLUE
WITHIN YOUR DEARTMENT
IBET YOUR INDESPNSEABLE
BUT YOUR ALSO ROCK'N ROLL
YOU WENT TO A FESTIVAL
YOU WONDANT DO NO DRUGS
'COS THATS AGAINST THE LAW
BUT IF YOU EVER CHANGE YOUR MIND
0774 - 503 - 7 - 44

MERRY CHRISTMAS

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

Words From The Archives: #1 Dial SOS For Mum

Today I was looking though my files trying to find an old piece I used to perform and came across a lot of old stuff I'd written that I thought would be nice to post up. Reading through this one, I can't help thinking how much has changed, my circumstances, the way I write etc.


This peice was written in the first term I did under Polabear at The Roundhouse, somewhere between September and December 2009. I've mentioned before when posting old stuff, that I used to always write in capitols back then. I think it was just a habit I somehow got into and was scared to break, for that reason though, I've left it as it is. 

DIAL SOS FOR MUM

SAT ON THE KITCHEN TABLE

PHONE IN MY HAND READY TO DIAL

EAGER TO TELL ANOTHER TALE

A SIMILAR STORY DIFFERENT PREDICAMENT

SAME THEME OF STRUGGLE AND STRESS

KEEPING UP WITH THE REST AND STAYING AFLOAT

I'D LOVE TO PHONE MUM MORE OFTEN

AND TELL OF HER SUCCESS

THAT I'M NOT SKINT, I'M HAPPY IN MY JOB

 AND I'M ABOUT TO SETTLE WITH A LOVLEY GIRL

BUT AT PRESENT

I DON'T

SO I DIAL AND MUM ANSWERS

CARM AND REASSURING AS EVER

HER WORDS GENTLY ENTER MY HEAD,

THOUGH MY EARS AND INTO MY OVERACTIE MIND

SHE'S LIKE A VERBEL RADOX, 

WARM 

AND NICE

I TELL HER WHAT I'M UP TOO AND WHAT I'BE BEEN DOING

I'M FINDING IT HARD AND THAT I'M PRETTY FED UP

MUM SAYS "YOUR DOING REALLY WELL, IT'S LOVLEY TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN,

PLEASE PHONE MORE OFTEN"

26 GOING ON 6

LIKE I'VE DROPPED MY LOLLY STICK SO I GO SCREMING TO MY MUM

MY HOLYWOOD TEARS POSE THE QUESTION

OF BEGGING MY MUM TO PRODUCE ANOTHER ONE

SO I'M TELLING MUM OF ANOTHER PENING ADDRESS CHANGE

BOTH ELBOWS ON THE TABLE TORSO BENT FOREWARD

I THINK OF THE ADDRESS BOOK MUM KEEPS BY THE PHONE

AND ALL THOESE ADDRESSESS UNDER MY NAME

EACH ONE WITH AN ARROW STRIKING THOUGH THEM

LIKE THE GRIM REAPER CAME TO VISIT EACH TIME

JUST AFTER I LEFT TOO MOVE TO YET ANOTHER ADDRESS

I WONDER IF MUM EVER THINKS WITH EACH NEW ADDRESS

"WILL HE EVER GET SETTLED"

GOD KNOWS I'M TRYING

MUM KNOWS I'M TRYING

BUT MUM ALSO KNOWS THAT THE ADDRESS BOOK,

IS RAPIDLY RUNNING OUT OF SPACE

AND I'M RAPIDLY RUNNING OUT OF FAITH

AND I'M RAPIDLY RUNNING OUT OF PATEIENCE

AND I'M RAPIDLY RUNNING OUT OF TIME

THE GRIM REPERS WAITING

26 GOING ON 6

LIKE I'VE DROPPED MY LOLLY STICK SO I GO SCREMING TO MY MUM

MY HOLYWOOD TEARS POSE THE QUESTION

OF BEGGING MY MUM TO PRODUCE ANOTHER ONE

I HAVE TO QUESTION MYSELF AS TO WHY I'M EVEN PHONING MUM

'COS I KNOW MUM AND DAD CAN'T PRODUCE ANOTHER LOLLYSTICK

IN THE FORM OF THOUSANDS OF QUIDS

AS MUM TELLS ME WHAT SHE'S UP

ENJOYING HER WELL EARHNED RETIREMENT

I CAN'T HELP THINKING THE REASON I'M PHONING

IS JUST A DEALY TACTIC TO SUPRESS THE REALITY

THE REASURANCE, WISDOM AND COMFORT THAT MY MUMS VOICE BRINGS

SHOULD BE MORE THAN ENOUGH

BUT IT'S LIKE I'M EXPECTING MY MUM'S VOICE,

TO HAVE SOME SORT OF POWER LIKE A SONIC MAJIC WAND

AND MAKE EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE ALLRIGHT

LIKE A NEVER ENDING LOLLYSTICK THAT EACH TIME I LICK

IT DOESNT REDUCE IN SISE IT JUST GETS MORE SWEET

SO I FINISH THE CALL

TELL MUM I'LL PHONE HER MORE OFTEN

AND THEN WONDER HOW MANY MORE KITCHENS I'VE GOTTA SIT IN

BEFORE I CAN PHONE HOME WITHOUT AN AGENDA AND JUST SAY

"HELLO ARE YOU"?