A TURN UP FOR THE BOOKS

I've revised the last post's poem. I wrote at the time it didn't feel complete, not sure it is now but I think it's better.

all new borns have this old soul stare

as if they’ve not quite got used to being back in the flesh

or just where they’ve ended up this time

they look into our eyes and speak to us

so you made it here first this time

that’s a turn up for the books

no word of a lie

this place is a bit rum

but let’s make the best of it eh

and usually we do

I wanted to expand on the voice and I also thought that I took too much time getting to the gist. My aim is always to be as concise as possible. I also think that too much frame around the poem detracts from its impact. You need to interrogate every word, does it really need to be present? What does it bring? Does the poem work without it? 

I got a copy of the new Palooka 5 album Alien Grace this week, it's excellent. Rumour has it there is an ep in the can ready for an autumn release! The band goes from strength to strength! Here's the title song.

Until next time.

AN ECHO

Here's an older poem that I've finally worked into a shape I am happy with. You can read the earlier version here.

PERHAPS

Once more

the water called to him

to renew their pact

a life on the ocean

beyond the horizon

past the smudge of land and dust.

It was his repeating dream.

The Lisbon waterfront

after the great earthquake

early in the dawn

he walks to the cathedral

to give thanks for his son’s birth.

He knows in this instant

if he does not heed the salt water’s song

he will not visit that city until he is past thirty.

Catching in his first sight of the cathedral

an echo, nothing more

soon replaced by stone and mortar.

Few of us make the right choice.

I think this version is more compact and reads better. At the moment I am compiling a new collection. Watch this space for news. 

Here's some music from the wonderful Palooka 5! They have a new album out next week.

Until next time.

HONEY TRAPPED

The term honey trap relates to the act of luring an individual into a compromising situation and then blackmailing them. I know the term from watching too many spy films. Apparently it was a favourite tactic of the Stasi.

I was recently discussing the poem with the Secret Poets who were of the opinion that the poem is broader than the cold war terminology. I was not as sure. I shall leave you to decide.

honey trapped

someone is always alert

on the lookout to turn the weak

to inflame their hidden desires

a chink

a crack

a vector to the soul

and so they are compromised

then asset stripped

run through their upside down lives

mouths full of ash

I do know that the poem is complete, but it shall be going into the drawer for a couple of months anyway, just to make sure.

Here's the marvelous Palooka 5 and their new tune Possession of the Surf Tsar. Honestly this band gets better and better.

Until next time.

THE HANGING MAN

I have been polishing the poem for this post all week. This is unusual. I tend to write them and leave them alone for a time. This one demanded attention. Possibly because the narrative thread needed to be very clear.

the hanging man

the wallpaper will not hang today

reprieved beauty unseen

as it has been these past two Saturdays

it is the hangman, the handyman

who can turn his hand to all the things I cannot

whose future dangles by a thread

his disbelieving wife

long his sternest critic

has finally had enough

he stands in what is now her hallway

stuffing thirty years of life

into black plastic bags

I think that the narrative is clear. The breakdown of a relationship, wallpaper that is not put on the wall, the handyman packing his life into bags. Your thoughts, as always, welcome.

Here are Palooka 5 being splendid.

Until next time.

NO BLADES RUSTED INTO SCABBARDS

A sombre poem this post. It came from the first line that popped into my head one morning unannounced. 

Epitaph

we will behind leave no swords

blades rusted into scabbards

no carefully considered grave goods

to make our afterlives bearable

our ending will be obvious

before they sink the first exploratory trench

a whole geological strata of near indestructible waste

of things we once thought we needed

It is very much a tell not show poem. I think at times that this is the only way to get the message over, bluntly.

Palooka 5, those giants of psych-surf have a new mini-album out. I shall be reviewing it next week, but for now here's a taste

Until next time.

ROUGH MAGIC

Palooka 5 Somerset’s coolest band have done it again. They have just released an 8 track mini LP. Regular browsers of this blog will know that I have long been impressed by Palooka 5’s live shows. They are a tight five piece who play fuzzy organ surf psych with an Apocalypse Now twist, or at least that’s what the back of the record says! 

Live they are a powerhouse of good tunes, only rigor mortis could keep you from dancing. Although they subscribe to a psych surf aesthetic this does not mean they are merely copyists as their new album Rough Magic attests they can write a good, original song.

This could be one of the albums of the year for me. It has been on heavy rotation on my record deck.

The album kicks off with Cactus Blossom Heart and storms through the first side. I’ve been listening to it since Friday and I cannot decide which is my favourite song. Every time I play the album I am struck by the quality of the individual songs and the musicianship of the band.

The second side features three remixes from their first cd EP along with a stonking new tune Heavy Ju Ju.

 The band are touring all summer and I certainly intend to catch them live.

Here’sa link to their web site. You can download the album at all the usual places.

Here's a live set:

Until next time.

THE PALOOKA 5 EP!

It's been a great end of year for releases by independent artists, already we have had Brooke Sharkey's superb second album, then there's Vidar Norheim's ep to come next week and hot off the press is the wondrous debut ep by Somerset's premier surf band Palooka 5!
The 4 tracks on this beautifully packed ep are fabulous. Palooka 5 leap from the speakers, firing on all six and you have to dance. They take no prisoners. 
The ep kicks off with La Mancha a superb piece of surf music. The pace does not let up and we are straight into Little Frathouse, a great dance tune, that is followed by Dropzone, which could be the theme tune to a 60's crime show. Then we are presented with the kinetic beauty of Cindy joined a Surf Gang. 

Lyrically Cindy sees the band narrating the rock and roll epiphany of said Cindy. This is prime stuff in deed, every home should have a copy.

Musically Palooka 5 don't put a foot wrong. The guitar magic of T. G. Baigent channels the spirit of Dwayne Eddy and Dick Dale and quite frankly guitar licks doesn't get any better than this guy. The organ of A.J. McCallum is quite simply stunning, harking back to the glory days of garage rock but still managing to sound like no one else. All this is held together by the rock solid, on the beat drumming of the great S. P. Bide. The ghost of Ed Cassidy is sitting on his shoulder- yes, he's that good. Also rock solid is the dynamic bass guitar of H. P. Banes. The drums and bass are so tightly meshed you'll believe in telepathic communication. Rounding off this triumvirate is the soulful vocals of B. E. Baigent. 

Music doesn't get much better than this. These are the best live band in Somerset.

What are you waiting for?
Go get that ep!

WATER WITH ATTITUDE

I was fortunate to attend a writing workshop with Harry Parker this week. It was excellent and I would recommend his book Anatomy of a Soldier. It is beautifully written and thought provoking.
One of the exercises based around memories prompted this.

I remember mercury puddles on the mezzanine, mirrored, like water with attitude, that ran down a slope faster than a raindrop, splitting into hundreds of molten ball bearings that left a smear on the metal plates. 

I've been revising this poem. You can read the first draft here. 

it was one of those days

an i'm living in a novel type of day

that brought the realisation

he was a minor character

whose only function

was to be bumped off

by a more interesting protagonist

an act that would illuminate

a particular facet of his killer's personality

such days are not good

his head rests on the cold window pane

it is 4:13am not yet light

he will wander through today's chapter

carrying a sharp sliver of sleeplessness

Essentially I've changed the layout, I was not happy with the one long line. I think this version allows the poem to breathe and it is easier on the eye of the reader.
Tomorrow sees the launch of Palooka 5's first ep. I leave you with them playing La Mancha. They have to be one of the best live bands around at the minute.

SOPHIA LOREN ON A BICYCLE

One revised poem this post. Thanks to Juncture 25 for the constructive feedback. I know I am a broken record where this is concerned but your work will improve immensely if you can find a group of people you trust to offer constructive feedback.

The Theory of The Coulombs

or The Eternal Lust of The Electrical Engineer

He reduces electrical theory

to Sophia Loren on a bicycle

and all us students are Coulombs

chasing her inside the copper wire.

Obviously she's the attraction,

and we are racing to catch her.

Think of resistance as a steep hill,

we have to pedal faster

because we can't let her get away!

It works for him obviously, for he has the lust,

the dreams of what they'll do once they meet.

I am sat in silence,

thinking that she is old enough to be my mother,

noting the gleam in his eye,

as he talks of getting closer...

All his efforts to impart wisdom,

to day release apprentices

are met with blank faces.

He decides we are dullards,

with no imaginations.

You can read the original here.
So what is different? 
The whole poem is tighter. Several words have been removed and less is always better. The third to last line is gone. It was: It is all our fault. As was pointed out it adds nothing to the poem and introduces a new idea, never a good plan at the end of a poem.

Here is Anna Ternheim covering Shoreline, which was originally released by Broder Daniel.

Have a good weekend. 
I'm off to see the wondrous Palooka 5 this evening. I intend to dance the night away. Come everybody, let's go tripping!