Posts Tagged ‘other people’s poetry’



September 3, 2010

Just back from the mighty Shambala festival where I did an impromptu 20 mins at the Wandering Word tent, was empty to start but packed by the end.

Also entered the slam on sunday to try to win tix, but lost out to the mighty Anna Friedmann‘s highly polished poetics and Jeffry Johns rampant freestyle ramblethon … no shame!

The last few weeks have seen a major performance every weekend, from rocking Monkey Business on a Saturday night (7th Aug) to a mad 19 hour roundtrip to do 20 mins with Hammer & Tongue at the Edinburgh Festival (13th) to hosting WordSoundHavePower at the Others with Dave Pepper and Blabbermouth (21st). August has been a spectacular month … next week am off back to Malaysia to carry on the revolution … watch this space …

From Shambala, the following acts were stupendous –

Dizraeli & the Small Gods – folk-poetry-hop with crazy harmonies and amazing storytelling. Get yourself a good god!

Sound of Rum – Kate Tempest’s band, intense and moving. Check out Cannibal Kids and Prometheus … or anything she does really, its all blinding … and she is so so humble …

Plus I got a haircut … punkrock dreadlock!


Word Sound Have Power

July 24, 2010


Right Wing Poet

May 4, 2010


Show Me Your Bronze

May 4, 2010

Hammer and Tongue London Slam Final –

Blazed through getting increasingly drunker to a packedout Green Note Cafe. People sat on the floor, on the stage, in the toilets, everywhere.

Came in third overall, got through to third round, but this means I’m still through for the nationals. Sweeeet.

Pete the Temp comes highly recommended as an ace poet and allround nice bloke.


Benji Zef

April 19, 2010


Benjamin Zephaniah, from “Too Black, Too Strong”


We first met on a golden night

As the moon radiated love light

On the dock of the bay.

Somewhere between the real deal and an illusion

We lay unapologetically

Stroking each others lack of responsibility.
‘I want to be a poet,’

She said looking over the mountain,

‘I want to be a hippy,’

She said checking out me natty dread,

‘I want to be political,’

She whispered as she admired my scars,

‘I may not look it, but I’m really oppressed,’

She said smiling,

Handing me her welfare book.
The sea lassoed the shore

Time and night hovered towards daylight

And bellyfilled foxes sniffed their way home.

She put the blanket over her head

Farted, and fell asleep.
The next time I saw her

She was trying to find The Goddess of Plenty,

Desperately seeking the freeway

And after me money.

‘It’s different for women,’ she said

‘We can use men for their bodies

Men do it to us all the time.’

The next time I saw her

She ran over me with her wheelchair.