James Dust Jacket

Updated: Sat, 7 Oct 2017 11:24 pm

http://dustjacketandinnersleeve.blogspot.co.uk/

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Biography

Leeds-based poet, I've been on-off writing for twenty seven years though only really putting myself out there (further out than ever before) since 2016. My poems tend to be about everything and anything, folding in references, sometimes slightly, sometimes shoehorn-like, alongside my observations. I took part in an explanatory exhibition about exoplanets beyond Pluto and Uranus called Planetine in May 2016, displaying my poems alongside the work of numerous other artisits (I've included one of my poems in the 'Samples of work' section). That was my first and since then when I've had the chance I try to push what I am doing. I'm looking to take part in spoken word events.

Samples

Sample #1: Yellow-Seventeen’s Entry in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy So, you’ve landed on Yellow-Seventeen, have you? Lucky. I doubt you quite planned it this way. Ran out of credit, Thrown off a spaceship, Regular stuff that happens, right? What we going to do now, says that little back-of-head voice. Loudly. You’re a frood on a mission, you need credits, There has to be entertainments - by which you mean drinks, And there has to be good company. That’s why you hike, right? Let’s find a bar, you need a drink or two. Or ten. Wherever in the unimultiverse you hail from, There’s an analogue beer, Or spirit waiting, Before you touch the local stuff. Be warned, that local stuff is pretty strong. Special. Locals say outlanders should only ever have one. I had six. Or maybe eight. Only out of it for three weeks. Months. Now, company, you’ve met Y-Seventians. Pretty. But they’re pretty unimpressed with drunk outlanders, Not paying tabs, Chasing folk around. Real unattractive, like. You’re not from Yellow-Seventeen but you want to learn. Knowledge. You hear about a couple of jobs for likely hands, Picking fruit, Servicing transports. End up invited to some social gatherings. You drink, sure, but not a ridiculous amount. You dance. With a couple of the other pickers you put on shows, Sing a song, Do a routine, Make everyone smile a little while. Yellow-Seventians like to smile bright. Wildly. Not a smile wider in the unimultiverse. You saw it firsthand, You made it on your own, On this yellow-green planet. Disaster strikes in the simplest of ways. Foreseen. Your ride off Y-Seventeen arrives. Say goodbye to the boss. Say au revoir to the lover, With a heavy heart - it’s just the take-off, you say - you’re off into the unimultiverse, And on to the next planet you touch down on. Sample #2: Press Play Again - Draft What shape does that sound have, Of the regular, rhythmic beat and the swish, swoosh, swoon of a melody. How can you leave me be, Opened up, bare, bear hearted to the world, With a glance and a glimpse, you are gone. Paused. Stopped. Press play again. Where do those words come from, The simple complicated way of saying complex, clear things. - "I never knew I was a lover" I always had an inclination, Cornered, not like the others, fighting, singing, I hold you are long as I can, you are gone. Fade out. Skipped. Press play again. Why do you leave me so messed up, Three, four minutes of joyfulness confusions, of love and Beatles references. - "Just because I stole the thing you hide" Did it take you long to write, The effect you affected, To completely change my life around? Repeat. Repeat. Press play again. After the world changed, after the noise and the words, I do not recall the before, I cannot recollect the silence. - "I want to be the King of Spain" I keep you in my head, I keep you in my heart, You may never know what you did to me, I may never even tell. I play your record again, Just once again. Press play again.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.