What a great turnout again last night. As usual for Middleton there was a wide variety of theme and styles even if Paul thought there was quite a lot of death and depression - and yes I know that I was a major contributor to the sad stuff.

I'll try to add some comments later with more detail but wanted to kick off the discussion.

Seamus

Yes another brilliant Poetry Night at the Boars Head Middleton. New faces too and some cracking poetry.

To counteract all the death and gloom (guilty!) there was also some lovely music courtesy of Tabitha and some amazingly talented new writers reading their stuff. Another great night at the Olde Boars Head- cheers everyone!

Here's the more detailed comment I said I would post:

Newcomer (WOL Virgin) Ian Reynolds came along with a very confident rendition of a poem about the end of a marriage and in another excellent piece spoke of a £400 banjo in hock and “our Miles Platting mountain” which must be one of the most poetic descriptions ever of Miles Platting’s tower blocks.

Frank Chinn in his distinct humorous style delivered a story of his Grandad complete with Woodbines and Rum and also a tribute to Spike Milligan.

Dave Morgan brightened up the timely story of George and the Dragon, the last one in Christendom, ending with genuine dragon skin handbags for sale - “When they’re gone they’re gone. Later on he read Crazy Guys about war veterans which was both comical and very moving at the same time and thought provoking. War was just one theme to recur during the evening.

Mo Green read a “A youth in his tie” about a young man joining the fusiliers and his families worries which had a very clever powerful and surprising ending. Gordon Zola also included a poem connected to war with his protest piece about the sacking of Iraq “Who will be next” a poem which is sadly likely to be relevant for too long to come. Still with War Hilary Murray told a tale of an attack on a civilian convoy with a twist in the tail - very powerful and insightful and I look forward to seeing this one in its final form.

Hilary also gave us a lovely nonsense type verse and I for one would be absolutely “indignafurious” if one of her made-up words doesn’t find its way into common usage.

Linda Morgan has been quiet for a while but moved us with some lovely poems about her Dad’s Vest and “The Believing Heart” delivered in her natural and heartfelt style and she also made us laugh, and perhaps cringe, with “The Interrupted Fish”

Another newcomer to WOL, Gail McPhilips (no Paul, this isn’t a made-up name) dazzled us with a tale of a near drowning experience from childhood and being rescued by her “boy in shimmering armour”. She also performed a nice poem all about rain. In spite of her subject matter her delivery and presence was anything but wet.

Rod Whitworth gave a valuable and interesting insight into depressive illness in a poem that cycled round and round quite like the illness itself.

Tabitha Simms gave us two songs, accompanied by her guitar, having explained that most of her songs are protest songs, but they protest against individuals. Still with Music Gordon performed nis “Aging Rock Star” and “Blackpool Rock” accompanied by us the audience (that’ll teach him to forget his guitar gadget) and Gemma O’Neil sang her song “Your Song”. Gemma made an excellent job singing a capella. She says a capella means “I can’t play and instrument”. Gemma also performed “My first funeral” and left the phrase “a shut-up box with my friend inside” inside my head.

Val Cook and Paul Broadbent reminisced about the Lake District, David Ryder re-worked Shakepeare replacing a Summer’s Day with Winter (must have been influenced by the British weather). Katie Hague remembered her daughters earliest days and John Mather ranted (in his smooth and measured way) about the divorce of law and order.

There were many more poems I haven’t mentioned but suffice to say it really was an evening of excellent variety which I think is how I described my very first visit to a WOL session and I’m glad to say the tradition continues.


Compère Paul wondered how long Teflon Tony Blair’s first confession would have taken after his recent conversion to Catholicism. I imagine that as part of his agreement to sign up he probably negotiated a right to withhold anything relating to national security and only fessed-up to those sins which had clearly been identified by a string of expensive and lengthy public enquiries chaired by his wife’s legal cronies. Oh and of course rather than the usual penance he would instead take away the lessons to be learned and move forward with renewed vigour.

Pity his only convictions are of the religious type.

The night at the old boars head was a excellent and entertaining night, there was a lot of talented poets. I must conmend Gemma O'Neil on her poem about dyslexia, being a fellow dyslexic I felt her words were very true to form, the fact is many dyslexics are undiagnosed and made to feel lazy and stupid but I bet most of our write out loud poets didn't do excellent at school but are now brilliant poets. Well done Gemma for highlighting this issue.