For Pippa (A poem by the wonderful Kyle Norbury)

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.

For Pippa (A poem by the wonderful Kyle Norbury)

NaPoWriMo 6

 

Look at her
They judge.
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.

NaPoWriMo 6

5. It slithers in at 4am.

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
Need
Need
coiling kundlini rising from its fetid nest at base of spine
Rising
Rising
Writhing
Writhing
mouth agape fangs snagged on raw nerves
constricting crushing stomach ribs lungs liver to
grey pulp
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
Wide-eyed prey
twitch like a rabbit. Break-
Dart free of your body, if you can –

O serpent of starvation, you will never be fulfilled

 

This is part 2 (Day 5) of the NaPoWriMo Poetry Dump. Read the first part here. It continues here.

5. It slithers in at 4am.

Being an Optimist for Once, in the midst of all this Shit. After all, there’s work to be done.

I braved it and made a video clip. First verse of my new poem, Faith in Humanity (People are Strange). This the first time I’ve ever done a spoken selfie video, so I apologise for my face.

 

We’re snowed under with desperate political commentary and the End of The World is being predicted again. Evil is afoot. But helping out with the thousands of donations given to just one grassroots charity, has really driven home the fact that there are a lot of people who do want to do a little bit of good. The world is changing, maybe in the cracks wrought by the earthquakes we can plant new seeds, seeds of a world where no one has to flee their home, no one is coerced, and no one has to see Donald Trump’s face ever again.

If you’d like to see me do more poetry, along with 13 super talented acts wh will put me in the absolute shade, come to City-Zen: One Mic! Rojava Solidarity Network fundraiser. Last One Mic! night was absolutely beautiful, so come on down to the Maypole in Derby tomorrow evening.

To sponsor me abseiling down a 110 foot building for Derbyshire Refugee Solidarity, go to this link.  You saw us in the video, please give us a hand.

To watch me (along with many other insane brave and committed people) abseil down the building, come to Jurys Inn, Derby, this Saturday at 1pm. It’s be a laugh. Or I might cry, who knows? It’s the suspense that makes it interesting, right?

 

Being an Optimist for Once, in the midst of all this Shit. After all, there’s work to be done.

Poem: 26

“Where you are is exactly where you’re supposed to be.”  Keep telling yourself that.

26 and I still don’t know where Dorset is

or how I got these bruises

Still can’t tell herpes from acne or remember

which scars came from which disease

I’ve destroyed more than I’ve created but at least  I’ve kept it cyclical

Pleasing symmetry, circling the drain

Charybdis is awful shabby these days  (it’s the drink that done her)

but on the other hands        and other heads

Scylla isn’t bad, for a hard place.

I’m 26 and still kicking at mythical monsters

from the childrens’ room of a smalltown library

26 and still hoping to score something

to shoot that fucking arrow straight into staring eyes

be phoenix fire ashes all at once                           dashed away on the breeze

Hell I Just want to hit something

After more than a quarter of a century I should have learned:

This is how you get bruises

Poem: 26