Monthly Poetry Jams

Now this is a magical evening! If you read and believed all those press releases about me being an ex-poet this event at the Royal Oak in York will prove that wrong. I am a big daft liar. Every third Monday of the Month (Please have a look through and mark them all in your diary) sees Adrian and friends meeting up in the lovely upstairs room of this quaint old pub. (If you are planning a trip over the water let me reword that olde worlde pubbe) The best performance poet on the planet humbly melds with smashing musicians and vocalists. Bring your instruments or songs to weave in. Friends who visit include Elaine Wallace, Julie Ellison, Dave and Graham of Restless Natives, Jane Hickling of Dark Heart, Dan Webster, Samantha, Chris, Lou and Melanie. 8 o’clock start – only a £1

Rumour: Yes members of the well known Yorkshire-based band Lucid may well be making an appearance, as might a former band member of the UK Subs.Be there around 7.30 if you want to order a meal (there is often a bit of free supper late on, although it is by no means obligatory).

Poetry and Music

A recent performance at Williams Bar billed as Adrian Spendlow and Guests went wonderfully well, the guests being Elaine of Lucid and Jane of Chechelele. It is expected to happen again so keep an eye open. Meanwhile here are some photos of the night.

Intro poems for bands

Recordings are now available. Poems for The Cutters, Pellethead, Golden Virgins, Ed Parrish, Cynic Guru and even Rudi Maggagar are available free to the bands, radio stations, promoters and anyone else with a good reason for having a copy. Give me a shout and let me know your address.

Poems

I was going to say that this was an odd one, but then again aren’t we all.
I say ‘We’ when I’m talking to myself.

Yes it could be the chocolate
I suppose it is quite possible
Chocolate being a catalyst
That swells up my belly
Slows me down
Not eating any for a full week
Would easily show this
But that just isn’t possible
So how will we ever know?

Here is an old home:

Home Building
Expecting a repossession order any day
I redesign the display in the window
Taking out fairy castles
And building a seascape for a change
Is this what you might call,
Having faith?

And an old man’s allotment garden:

Allotment Dilemma
I don’t have the need for an allotment
Not with my life
Not in this day and age
It is only worth keeping up
Because I need the exercise
Oh and the veg

And an old pal
The Dan Tragedy
Yes I really do remember it that way
We talk of the bakers
Of the tour, and the bakers
The places we’ve been, and the bakers
The gigs!
The venues!
And the pies and the cakes
Some of those places!
We recollect on our rule;
The poorer the area
The better the baker.
Then Dan mentions
That pie
Yes
The
Chicken and pork and stuffing pie
All in layers he says
He doesn’t do the Homer Simpson sound of course*
Because this is the pie that we never mention
Despite all its lovely layers
Because this is the pie that is related to the tragedy
That stirs up all the memories
I don’t know what of, I never dared ask,
I imagine,
They found it mouldering in the bottom of the car that everybody drowned in,
He forgot to light the oven and the house went up,
It got knocked off the table and killed the new kitten stone dead….
It must have been something as bad as this
I don’t know
I never dared ask
Because if you mention it
He just gets terribly sad
But now is the time
The time I should ask
‘Dan,
What ever happened to the
Pork and chicken and stuffing pie?’
He sighs
Stirrs
Breaths
My mum and my sister ate it all.

By the way.

Suffering from depression
Well no that’s not true
I’ve moved on from that
Into
Survived depression
Which is as bad really
You just won’t admit it quite
I look round
While on the loo
At all the books on array
And I realise
I don’t really read anymore
No – No
I really don’t read
I don’t read
Then I remembered – that
Magazine a friend left
That I looked at,
By the way
Do you call them – girly mags
Or – men’s mags? –
Got right through that
That raised a level of interest
So
So
I – don’t read
I – just look at the pictures.


By the way… this poem is actually entitled;

‘By the way… That magazine a friend left!?’
And an old love:
Eons on
I’ll be here
Trapped in the sand
Flickering through your hand
I look upon you
Darkened skies yield purple lines
As the orb of gold denies
The dark to rise
You stand there
Depths still hold your eyes
As waves of passion
Fashion tracts of rippling sand
I reach your hand
Dawn’s silhouette
Your hair within the breeze
Is flowing yet
Eons on
I’ll be here
Trapped in the sand
Flickering through your hand
I look upon you
Love you
Is this worship
Does love always echo deep
Am I within
Or without
I hurtle in
Lost in the vision of your eye
Love happened now
And in this moment
I can fly


A well old one:
Lycanthopy is
Not as bad as this
I’ve got the syndrome
I’ve felt the lupine kiss
When I get out there
Just on the street
I can’t help staring
At women I meet
Forget my family
Responsibility
Just keep focussing
Availability
I eat you up
I meet your eye
Undress/caress you
Or make you cry
No I’m not married
I make you worried
Oh I could love you
Until you die
Lycanthopy is
Not as bad as this
I’ve got the syndrome
I’ve felt the lupine kiss
They shouldn’t do it
The way they move it
Asking for it
And I’m the one
I change direction
For your attraction
Hear you move faster
I’m prowling on
Look you’re naked
And at my mercy
A prowling wolf now
You’d better flee
You’re all attractive
I’ll clock for later
But some reactive
Smile right back at me
Lycanthopy is
Not as bad as this
I’ve got the syndrome
I’ve felt the lupine kiss
Sometimes I’m cornered
Caught in lusting
Pretence is gone now
This one’s reacting
She’s looking at me
Oh no she’s smiling
My god she’s speaking
When am I free?
Well not tonight
I’ve got a family
My wife is waiting
I’ve got to cook tea
I run away now
Feel so embarrassed
I am quite harassed
But look at this one
Lycanthopy is
Not as bad as this
I’ve got the syndrome
I’ve felt the lupine kiss

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