HIDING IN SHADOWS

When I don’t call

It doesn’t mean

That you’re not there

In my thoughts

When I don’t write

It doesn’t mean

I have no words

In my heart

When I don’t answer

It doesn’t mean

You have no place

In my soul

When I keep silent

It doesn’t mean

I have nothing

To impart

When I don’t pra...

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I wasn't dead,

just never alive

Turner Prize

gold medal

all for a dive.

A dyspraxic in a speedboat

as I struggled to swim

in shark infested waters

but I won't let them win.

The rewards of success

for creating a mess

an unmade bed

for an economy's left.

People can study

and some even praise

others are starstruck

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Every new dawn brought you
a glass of sea in a knot
of salt, which squeezed
your breath while you sang
to make the unbridled fear
fall asleep in a whisper.
And we know the distance
bled  on that shore of hardships
by your trembling steps.
When the bread was crumbled
into nothing by the fangs
of war, which eat and kill
at the same time.
But in the secret shelter
of th...

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The soul of an artist,

famine or harvest.

An exercise in extremity,

symmetric serenity.

Raw yet crafted

a tool made from bone

fleshed out by interpreting existence.

The soul of an artist,

famine or harvest.

An exercise in extremity,

symmetric serenity.

A fusion of real and surreal

a soulful symbiote

intertwined with their v...

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Pop Up Poetry at the Bar des Arts in Guildford in October succeeded in raising £70 for Oxfam through voluntary donations at what is normally a free night of poetry, songs and spoken word. We had a great time, with the Leano, Cathy Flower and Steve Pottinger adding their magic to a line up of fantastic open mic contributors, including some new faces whom we're looking forward to inviting back as...

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We’re pleased to announce the following promotions for our 24th September OpenMind event at Fuel Cafe Bar.

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Noel Cowards' lyrics from his musicals are well known in the English speaking world and his phrases are now part of everyday English speech. Barry Day has collected here the definitive edition of Coward's verse including all the work in the three-volumes published in Coward's lifetime plus rare & previously unpublished material Coward sent to family and friends. 'Deidre' by his poet...

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Take a look at the poster for our OpenMind: Slamming September event at Fuel on Monday 24th September.

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OpenMind: Slamming September:

Following on from our highly attended and jam packed 2 year birthday show OpenMind are back at Fuel on Monday 24th September for OpenMind: Slamming September, our first ever multi-genre OpenSpace slam event. This event will be presided over by GrIm who's taking his first ever crack at presenting an event, so be sure to give him your love, energy and full ...

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On the island’s south side

a solitary town fizzes

like overloaded circuitry

on dark, motherboard hills.

Across a sticky, smooth-tiled walkway

an amusement arcade spills

a test of sexiness based on how clammy your palm is

and the hitting game.

You spin in coins so they register

on sensors worn numb. 

A padded stump protuberates.

The s...

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You can't get tits on a kindle,

so put that Amazon one down.

Your materialistic bullshit

truly does make me frown.

I got by on handmedown clothes,

chick sticks and Aldi own brand.

You really look silly with that massive phone kid,

it's bigger than your hand.

To me COD was a special chippy tea

on a Wednesday night, granddad got it for me.

...

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This is a poem that was written by an old friend of mine called Paul Nunn who I have a long music association with. He heard some of my performance poetry and asked if I would record this one. It is my pleasure to have done so.

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OpenMind return to Fuel Bar to celebrate our 2nd anniversary, exactly 2 years since the first ever OpenMind event at Earth Cafe.


To celebrate our 2nd anniversary we've created a few elements that pay homage to this number. Entry will be £2, we've got 2 headliners, 2 guests per genre, and raffle tickets will be 2 for the price of 1.


As always we'll begin the evening with the most...

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OpenMind return to Fuel Bar to celebrate our 2nd anniversary, exactly 2 years since the first ever OpenMind event at Earth Cafe.


To celebrate our 2nd anniversary we've created a few elements that pay homage to this number. Entry will be £2, we've got 2 headliners, 2 guests per genre, and raffle tickets will be 2 for the price of 1.


As always we'll begin the evening with the most...

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(A work in progress & in constant evolution...)

What would say William Blake if he saw this world post-revolution?

What would he say if he had been witness of the greatest cataclysm of

human heart?

What would he think about universalization when his gaze turned to

New America?

Can its spirit be dumb?

He  wrote an answer in the form of a lullaby.

Howev...

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Odorous under the towers
confounded misty teeth beyond the rain
the sin continues
quaking before the trees
you stroke dank vapors under the flowers
I reach insanity yellow about the land
as we dream of evil over the virgin
crazy, passionate, open-eyed, hungry
over the horizon
something missing
out of dreams
a stranger
takes comfort
he knew no-one
yellow about the lan...

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I have my own little piece of the world.
Sure, it has its problems, but nothin’ too much.
It has its pleasures and there’s more than enough.
And I’ll share them with you; I will share them with you.

So, put down that rifle, and put down that gun.
Let’s take back those words that hatred begun.
Let’s tear down those icons that make us ignore
The cries of our own, the cries of our ...

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It’s 1:30 am.

He takes me away from the others unpacking,

opens the front door to the first night

in our first home and squirts WD-40

over both hinges, explains

WD is water dispersal,

NASA concocted this stuff

to keep fields of rockets

from turning orange, then burnt umber.

He heard this on his pocket radio

cycling along blustery North London roads

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None of the class could put their uniform

on in under a minute, fit their gas masks

and speak in a BBC accent. Two ran off

to explore World War Two but got lost

in the Blitz. Boys cooed at machine gun

nests and gagged at the taste of canned beef,

mistaking it for mustard gas. Everyone

laughed at the tour guide's rendition

of "Oh! It'...

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So, I have two announcements to make.

One is that today marks the ten day countdown until OpenMind: Face the Music II, and that there are still a few OpenSpace slots available. Can people please message Vocal Strain (https://www.facebook.com/vocal.strain) if interested. I have a partial list so far but I have my end of year assignment due in 2 weeks so I won’t be doing as much promoti...

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New  blog up an running have a look  http://velvetmedia.wordpress.com 

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Health, Wealth, Happiness. 

Visit www.wellwarringtonnetwork.co.uk/8.html for details or read the instructions below. 

The Well Warrington Network helps people with chronic illnesses in Warrington. We do our best to make people feel better with the work that we do. We would ideally like Health, Wealth and Happiness for everyone that we help, which is why we want you to w...

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There's just over a week left to get entries into this creative writing competition. All proceeds will help to provide much needed funds for The Well Warrington Network - see the official write up from them below. There will also be a junior competition - details to follow. Stay tuned!

The Well Warrington Network, (a not for profit organisation that helps chronically ill people ...

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It was Dave who spotted it first. He’d been

out for a cig break, and there it was, in all

its glory. A bit later on, and it was Ben’s

turn to go out for a smoke. He confirmed

it. After I finished mopping around the

counter, I decided it was my turn to spark

one up, so I put my jacket on, rolled a roll-

up and stepped out. I stood in front of the

shop, pulli...

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He was a hooligan back in the 70s,

a real hard bastard, a member of the

Monte Carlo crew. Middle-age had

softened him, not just physically, but

spiritually as well. He swapped the

terraces for the suburbs, got himself

a wife and fathered three pretty girls.

Now, he works with children who have

learning difficulties, and harbours

‘literary am...

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The most difficult part of moving back to

the area where you grew up are

the people you bump into

who you haven’t seen for years.

Mainly, it’s people who attended

school with you, but occasionally

it’s a family member or an ex, and

they’re the ones that stagger you.

After saying a flustered

hello, the first and most obvious

questions are...

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Suffering with the thing that drives

fear into the hearts of most people –

‘toilet trouble’ –

I spent a couple of weeks

panicking and avoiding the

inevitable.

Eventually, I swallowed my

pride and made an appointment

with my doctor.

I rarely go to see the doctor. Like a

lot of blokes my age and of similar

background,

I...

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I don’t write poems,

I drink them like wine,

I become tipsy

with each coming line.

I don’t write poems,

I breathe them like air,

I become so happy

when each one I share.

I don’t write poems,

I live with them;

they prolong my years,

they are as true as I am.

I don’t write poems,

I weave into verses

sadness, joy, tea...

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My book - 'Your Sax Is On Fire' is now an incredible £3.99 when you type SAFIRE into the discount code box on

http://www.troubador.co.uk/book_info.asp?bookid=1594

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He charged down Anlaby Road towards

the woman, grabbing the bag from her

arm as he bumped into her.

Unfortunately for him, the combination

of adrenalin, exertion, and whatever shit

he’d been smoking that morning

conspired to make him trip over and

plunge into the pavement. He hit the

ground with a thunk. A bloke with

a tattoo of a pant...

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On Monday 21st May we’ll be celebrating the wide variety of musical talent in Manchester at NEW VENUE Fuel Bar in Withington with OpenMind: Face the Music II a year on from our first ever live music special. We’ve got a fantastic line up planned with amazing live music from the likes of vocalist Tsareeena Wimbush, acoustic and vocals from Tony Ward, poetry and loops from Martin Christie and poe...

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They released an album in 2005, back when

I had just moved into one of the first of many

dives. They’d finally 'arrived' of course; I sat

in on a few rehearsals and got involved in the

bottles of scrumpy cider and some lines we

snorted off the tops of speakers. They’d

just got back from London that week, had been

recording with the guy who engineered

...

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Baked by the afternoon sun,

withered yellow balloons

and ribbons bound to the railings

still jostle for attention along

with the wilting flowers and

blurred-ink cards held in place

by string and sticky-tape.

Still providing something,

even as their meaning becomes

weathered, they reshape

the concrete and steel

body of the bridge into a

...

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He surmised it had been done

by a couple of teenagers

with a lit rag, although it was still

purely conjecture on his part

at this point.

Unfortunately for him, what was

evident was that his blue recycling-

bin had been full, so he had put the rest

of the newspapers and magazines

in the main one.

The flame caught, and the full thing

w...

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I understand.

Believe me,

I understand.

I understand that the product you bought,

or the food that you ordered,

or the service we provided,

or whatever it is you’re returning

that you’re not happy with,

is defective,

deficient,

or you’ve got one already,

or you’re just not happy,

because what you got

was generally crappy,

...

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The sunshine madness has arrived again at last.

The lads who live out back

are stripping off to the waist and getting off

their face in the yard at the back of the flats.

And they’ve put a wheelie-bin on its side

and are using it as a table, and they’ll chat

and drink

and listen to banging tunes

for as long as they’re able

to stand without f...

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The nihilism girls are out in force tonight,

enjoying the first glimpses of the

warm summer nights. Looking good

in their tight leggings and mid-riff

baring tops, hanging about near the

corner shop, smoking fags and talking

too fast at all the lads as they walk past.

When I was at school it was cool to

drink too, but these girls are skipping

the m...

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the epic rolling green and brown,

the speckled rash of birds in the

distance and the rushing silence.

Here,

there is continuity and the

brutality of pure air

offset with the bitter-clean

aroma of fresh manure.

Trees are secured in fertile

soil, amid furtive teeming

multitudes of life that toil invisibly

a...

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I still use buses occasionally,

but thankfully I’ve got over the whole

‘trying to write about it’

phase.

I’m not making a statement as such;

If anything,

it’s almost an acceptance of defeat.

Nearly 35,

and I still can’t fucking drive.

I used to say things like:

I get a lot of inspiration from bus journeys –

seeing all the diff...

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Vertigo #2

With each panic attack,

I disassemble,

I break apart,

like glass slivers,

I am falling all around

There is a crowded bus ride ahead,

an elevator door closing behind,

5 o’clock traffic and all it’s stillness

waiting

The train with it’s voice letting me know that once again,

“the doors are now closing”

I find you there, ...

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The creation of art is the

placing of significance onto

place, a person or a moment in time.

Having a fleeting subjective

empirical experience

and trying to crystalise it,

trying to grant it immortality – 

that’s what artists try to do,

he says,

and I suppose he’s right,

in a way.

But everybody does that,

not just artists.

I do i...

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12 years he’d been there, and now he was moving on.

“End of era and all that shite,” he said as I filled a bin-liner

with some of the junk that inevitably accumulates after

spending more than a decade living in one place. I could tell

apprehension was creeping in a little; not so much the

moving out part as the moving in with someone else. It

wasn’t emo...

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The rag and bone man was a significant part of

my childhood experience. Every Wednesday I would

hear the familiar clip-clopping of hooves and the cry of

“rag n’ bone” mangled into a two-syllable yelp. He was

genuinely useful, mum would say. He got rid of fridges

and washing-machines far more efficiently than the council.

After not seeing or hearing a ra...

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These days my body is filling up with light,

I can’t even help it

It’s happening without trying

There seems no room for darkness

My feet are extending

white roots

are growing ever

d

o

w

n

w

a

r

d

like a pair of tubers in rich soil

The universe is funneling itself through me

There is black hole forming ab...

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Post Card Perfect

It was New Years Eve

when you dipped me.

 You leaned in for a kiss.

I should have known then that eventually you'd drop me.

And

 the snow fell all around

a sailor and a nurse.

After the war had ended,

she stopped bandaging his wounds,

he bellied up to a bar

&

the photographed just faded away.

...

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Just so You Know

The day you left, 

it rained for three fucking days

and man,

you still wouldn't wash away.


So I prayed out loud to the girls

with more grass

than that green grass

that we used to make love in.


I waited there sea sick,

in sea of emerald green

swaying back and forth

all around me.


Just then, the air p...

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I am an underwater creature

much faster than yourself

I am smoothed out

by the waves

your words a thousand dull lead sinkers around my neck

 I can not hear you here

Here, I belong to no one, 

not even myself

In fact, I do not exist

There is tranquility in nothingness,

no need for oxygen

or cigarettes

Clear

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Fireflies in Glass Jars

I wonder about you sometimes,

So…. I have to keep my distance

I don’t always return the phone calls

Or get in touch the way I use to

You see,

Just like fucking strange men

Or sleeping in abandon cars

You my friend,

are not good for me.

You bring me back to who I used to be

An almost extinguis...

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Word Experiment Three is up. Have fun. i think this one is gonna be a challenge for me, but I can't wait to see what the rest of you come up with. Here it goes. 

http://drivenbythemoon.blogspot.com/2012/02/word-experiment-3-clemency.html

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http://poetrylostock.blogspot.com/p/poetry-lostock-2012.html Poetry Lostock is poetry sailing down a river one childhood. Poetry Lostock is writing poems on the back of imaginary upturned boats. Poetry Lostock is invisible verse made transparent. Birds above the Lostock see birds inside the Lostock. Do you remember that summer? me you and the boy with the mad hair on a dingy...we ...

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Nothing happens, I have no answers

Only the great sadness seems to assist me

Faced with despair, people are losing their identity

The word violence plays its language

Everything is corrupted

Everything looks bad, aging

In the thunder of the night I discover that my brother is my enemy

The only thing real is this sad reality

©Noris Roberts

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I know you will think of me when they do not love you this way…

the infinite delight of my body on your breast

refreshing your soul with tenderness entirely

baptising your thirsty kisses without aspiring for one moment

to take control of your emotions.

I loved you entwining my breath in that furtive kiss

kindled perhaps by my devouring flame

riding my bod...

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Somewhere, the 9 till 5 office worker stops me with a deadpan stare,
Fixes me with the times of timetables passed, the graph paper squares
Of tomorrow’s schedule. The high-rise offices never bother to look down.

I never liked the city.

Never really cared
for the city’s callousness, its daily suicide,
the shadow at the top of each building that watches with certainty.

C...

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Twisted Maleficarum turned abomination

desperately seeking a return to one's humanity.

Expelling demons,

pumping passion like the blood that summoned them.

Bleeding tears, sweating fears

soaked in trepidation.

Summon some feeling

no time for healing

when paint is just pain with

twin pronged brush strokes.

Tattered, trying, tonal

...

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Dreamcatchers for Abused Children (an official non-profit 501(c)3 child abuse and neglect organisation in the US) has a Missing Persons Division. They have used my video poem 'The Missed' (top left) on their page : 

http://dreamcatchersforabusedchildren.com/media/missing-children/ 

I will be working with some charities and important organisations again in 2012. These a...

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Here's a poem narrated by the Head of the Hufflepuff House at Hogwarts. It was inspired by a radio sketch by Mitchell and Webb. I'm not sure how much I like it; the rhythm is a little awkward in places, but I'd be interested to know what you think.

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