This guy is an inspiration. His perception, passion and drive are unique. I’m privileged to know Jamie. Can’t wait to read his debut book later this year.
Fiery like a dragon firing shots and drinking doubles till Last Orders,
Then onto Hairy Dog sipping cider without a hint of a worry,
Laid back stage performer slaying old selves and pig-faced bigotry with cold chilled tones of melancholy,
Laughing in the face of the dark gloomy reality,
Wit with the might to conquer the high and mighty,
Hair fully blue like a full moon shining through clouds of misery,
Magical bowler hat black like the starry night sky when it’s time to party,
We’re all confused as to how someone so talented can still be stuck in Derby,
Friends, poets and public bar owners hope you stay here forever,
You carelessly sinful nun,
Intensely real and non-pretentious like a female Bukowski,
Poking fun at life’s pathetic fallacy with a burning blue flame of integrity,
A gothic black comedy butterfly fluttering high above through the rain,
Drink up the pain of past days and live for the present,
For you’re proper fucking ace at poetry!
– Kyle Norbury wrote me this poem. It makes me sound pretty badass doesn’t it? I’m so incredibly flattered, my ego might well float off into the stratosphere. I’m lucky to know such talented people.
To read more from Kyle, check out his blog. It’s the least you could do.
There is no shelter from the earth
Each wand will cast spells to burn you
Every sword will cut
And you should drink your fill from every cup
Gulp it down fucking slut devour it all
You can be air you can dream fire
But even if you drown
There is no shelter from the earth.
Rage cry die whatever
Develop an emotion
Experience something relatable
In its banal horror
Swallow it all and spin it
Like a spider
Spin it out your arse
Some rarefied verbal silk
I hope it’s valuable
Even moths can earn you dollar
In this world.
Blue sky girl
blue head in the clouds
juices, destined to go to
far away lands, and
slather far away bodies as they sit
under palm fronds,
Naked, except for a smile
in an old car, on the same road home.
© Case Watson, 2017
Look at her
On her phone, the antisocial bitch
She should be acting like a normal person and making small talk on public transport
Like we do
I may be mentally ill but I’m not the kind that finds solace in strangers
I have the privilege of selecting my audience
The privilege of insight and inborn fear and being able to know
That I’m supposed to leave the general public alone
We’re an insular people let’s keep it that way, that’s what their straight-ahead gazes say.
So instead i watch em
Trapped together, still alone
And write notes about em on my phone.
Check out the whole of my NaPoWriMo effort, starting here.
Spine serpentine snakes coils flicks rigid
crawls through skin this
sweated penance crawls
into the heart
Remember the difference between arteries and veins:
veins go ve(IN) towards the centre of you
trying in vain to send a message of warmth to the core
Skin is permeable paper membrane
pierced by the faint glimmer of stars
the sharp ends of the moon’s whetted sickle
hundreds of hypodermics
Pierced by need
coiling kundlini rising from its fetid nest at base of spine
mouth agape fangs snagged on raw nerves
constricting crushing stomach ribs lungs liver to
from which it has sucked the stagnant blood
Serpent tongue flicks forked into thoughts
adrenal glands spasm faced with
horror. hardwired. primal.
A predator is close,
you are hunted
twitch like a rabbit. Break-
Dart free of your body, if you can –
O serpent of starvation, you will never be fulfilled