It’s remains to be seen whether Frank arrives on the night in a pair of chunky platform boots and clip on ginger sideburns, but he says he’d like to sing like Noddy Holder, and that’s understandable – that Black Country barrel house bellow is awe inspiring.
‘I Wish I Could Sing Like Noddy Holder’ is Frank’s 5th or 6th book. I’m losing count. I know some people are waiting for the box set, but when poetry of this quality is on offer that would be foolhardy.
Frank will be reading from the book at this event, and other members of DIY POETS will also perform. Music from Pegefo, and vinyl spins by John Humphries.
On Saturday 18th July, DIY Poets shared the bill with James, The Specials and Bananarama, amongst others. We took to the stage at Splendour Festival, Wollaton Park. Okay, not the main stage, but we let Roots Manuva use that to warm our audience up.
Andy Szpuk introduced the set on the Fringe stage and we found the audience to be in fine voice through a bit of call and response audience participation. Next, Clare Stewart took everyone on an exhausting and squelchy walk through Scottish heather, heather, heather before leaving us to relax with a smooth whisky. Music was the theme of Frank McMahon’s trio of poems. It wasn’t all about the bass, ‘bout the bass, but also exploring the reactions to guardian angels in leather and denim as well as comments on Johnny Cash’s sartorial choices.
Next was Lytisha with her poems looking at relationships, both with people and food stuffs. John Humphreys embarked on an uncharacteristically short introduction, (he even kept within the allocated time slot and didn’t even need the ting of enlightenment!) to his poem celebrating all things Ska.
Trevor Wright took us into the home straight with cautionary tale of the migrating pink toed tarantula. Finally Captain Andy Szpuk was back and not only was Poetry Airlines literally launched containing poems from the Flight Attendants Richard C Bower, Hazel Warren,Chris Page and other DIY Poets, but the Best of DIY Poets book was launched too, and managed some chunky sales.
A great day all around and a fabulous audience.
DIY Poets would like to thank DHP for booking us and providing a super stage and sound man. Thanks too to Keith Turner for the photos and video.
If you missed it you can catch us and get your copies of Best of DIY Poets at The Maze on Thursday 13th August from 8pm.
Clare Stewart (photo by Keith Turner)
Frank McMahon (photo by Keith Turner)
Lytisha (photo by Keith Turner)
Trevor Wright
Richard C Bower and Hazel Warren (Photo by Keith Turner)
Andy Szpuk, launching Poetry Airlines (photo by Keith Turner)
Thanks to Lytisha’s application and subsequent bargaining, we have a crew lined up to perform at the Splendour Festival Fringe, Saturday 18th July, 4pm, somewhere near the main stage. Okay, we’ve only got half an hour to squeeze in as many poets as we can, but we’ll make the most of that and to be sharing the bill with The Specials, James and er Bananarama adds a certain spring to the whole thing.
We’ve got one or two surprises in store as part of our performance, some of them so secret that even the people performing them don’t know exactly how they’ll turn out. Yes, we’re gambling on use of heavy irony, props and possibly even some eccentric percussion performances. Could this be the moment when DIY Poets float towards a family fun form of technicolour psychedelia?
Be there.
Frank McMahon’s Fourth Published Volume of Poetry – ‘Forthright’
It’s Frank’s fab fourth, a typical collection of snappy verse, encapsulating the experience of a 20th century poet as he brings his unique world view into the here and now. Frank effortlessly sets his inner Tardis to random as he weaves tales from his more distant past and stitches them to the present day. Cultural references settle around the reader like winter snowflakes on a lumpy seventies football pitch, and mid way through the second half, Shane MacGowan almost ends up in a duet with Elvis – ‘Whole Lotta Snowman’ would have been a certain number one for them in more favourable conditions. Frank takes revenge on sadistic sports teachers, architecture and homophobic football fans in humorous, lyrical fine style.
However many billions UK politicians pledge to put aside to fund the NHS, even when the election is over, it’ll still only cost £3 to see DIY POETS perform at the Maze, and that includes a free copy of the latest magazine! The evening will conclude with live music from Louis Antoniou.
DIY POETS Maze gig 12th February 2015. Another great evening at the Maze, congratulations to all who read. It was fantastic that we had equal numbers of men and women. And nice to have some newcomers in amongst the old-timers…
Grace. Great set of poems for her first time at a diy gig. With honest and universal themes, she spoke about the evil in us all, but compassionately conceded that we’re all going through a hard time. (And ain’t that a fact!) Grace made a new year resolution to be a truer version of herself, and that seems to me to be the flight of stairs we poets are all trying to scramble up, so welcome to the party, Grace! Her last poem ruefully refused to tell us why she has a smile on her face, and I’m still wondering…
Steve R: Another first timer on the DIY stage and new to Nottingham, Steve, read his poem which conjured images of drugs, lost loves and the experiences of youth. Steve has only been writing a few months, but gave a confident rendition of his poem questioning allegiance of the furious flying fists with great alliteration and passion. We’re looking forward to hearing more in the future from Steve.
Alice S has been a part of diy for a few months but this was her first performance with us. She has set herself the task of writing a poem a day for a year, and is putting them up on her blog. Great thing to do. Okay, I have to admit to not knowing what a blog is, so have been on a little self-teaching journey and have found Alice’s blog https://aliceshortpoetry.wordpress.com It’s well worth a visit, too much to read in one sitting, and deals with, oh, so many ideas. Alice has a great poetry voice, and the poems she read at the Maze bear reading over again and thinking about. Her tagline is Let’s Do This, as she invites her listeners to share her poetry journey. She’s encouraging to us as well as to herself – this from her 4th Feb poem which she read at the Maze, Run Free ‘Fling doubt and fear from your mind’. Amen to that. Really like the poem about Split Second Judgments as well, which is her 30th Jan poem.
Lytisha is an experienced diy performer and gave us some characteristically wistful work. Poems that seem simple but pack a punch. We were all on a strict five minute slot (but see about John H below) so Lytisha did some short poems, the shortest being an excellent poem called Forgetfulness that she forgot to write, so it didn’t take long to read out. Lytisha is interested in perspectives and often writes from other people’s points of view. I really like the poems – which are in the latest diy magazine – Looking In and Looking Out, speaking with the voices of a child looking in and a fish looking out of a fishbowl, excited and funny, sad and winsome. Lytisha also does a good imitation of a clock being perplexed by the daft goings-on of us humans.
Orla Shorthall: – or Oral as her new stage name seems to have emerged, following a typo on the poster for the next DIY event. Interestingly, it features ‘Oral’ and the event is called Suck it and See on Friday 31st March at Jam Café in Hockley. How could that fail to entice?
After the levity of her introduction Orla launched into her set that she described as full of depressing poems. They were charmingly interspersed with humour and delivered in Orla’s inimitable way. We had tales ranging from an almost too real initial impression of Nottingham as full of tiny girls in tiny dresses vomiting everywhere to the surreal which involved giving birth to a calf, fathered by a Minator, whose bull genes were dominant.
Martin G is a thinker, and he thinks about thinking but he thinks he may have overthought this. Mixing the serious with the silly, the intelligent with the daft, you never know what’s coming next as words and images tumble over each other, all blended with a healthy dose of politics, the ridiculous and the profund. A 3D poet! He read three poems, Thinking about Thinking, The Sinkhole, in which members of the Bullingdon Club fall into a sinkhole (lol) but ends with a depressing thought about the popularity of someone called Nigel. And Divided We Stood, reflections on the death of Thatcher and Thatcherism.
Frank McMahon: after a glowing introduction from John, Frank did not disappoint. He delivered a fine set of short poems taking us on journeys through time and politics. As he said, It’s a marmite life […]some have taste / and there are the others. As we joined the Doctor on his Tardis we revisited sports teachers and the horrors of cross country, Tony Benn, noting that Labour isn’t Working concluding with a seasonal anti-valentine poem.
Clare S: delivered a colourful and thought provoking set with her architectural design for a Curly Fiery House which was certainly not bland, and indeed was the kind of space Gaudi would have been impressed with, to the poem Mobile Phone referring to building of an entirely different sort -an extension with more space to be lonely in. Clare concluded her engaging set with Mandela-Hitler Guilt. Her clever word play expressing that although no Mandela, she may have her faults but they are of being a whittler, but not like Hitler.
John H and his London Bones need one last dance. Although he only had one poem to read, John’s introduction was very entertaining. And long. So long that he’d gone over his five minutes before he’d even started reading his poem. Lights were flashed but to no avail. John carried on at his own pace anyway and why not? He described being nagged into internet dating and finding that thousands of women are interested in him but John doesn’t really do technology so it was never gonna work. Undaunted, he used the near-Valentine’s date of the gig to read his poem about love, London Bones. In it he expressed his desire to take these London bones out for one last dance, one last chance, take these London bones out for one last dance. We are never too old for love.
Featured poet of the night was Trevor Wright. Trevor took us through a fabulous set with quality poems on a whole host of themes. Delivered in his understated yet engaging fashion, Trevor told us tales of love, politics, filling time, Aunty Jeans colourful opinions, and all about the Chief Execcies who squeal bonus, bonus, bonus all the way home! Trevor discussed how the impetus to overcome his block at creating Haiku was delivered by way of several – fortunately- near misses whilst out on a cycle ride one afternoon. The result on returning to his pen and paper were several vitriolic Haikus aimed at the thoughtless and dangerous drivers in question. The set was concluded by two poems reflecting on how later events or revelations revised opinions of earlier met people. Well done Trevor, very entertaining.
The evening was rounded off with some great music by The Viscous Flambards. John and Tom’s harmonies blended with great guitar playing to provide songs telling tales, some from the pre-mobile and internet era. After Living Lives like Bees in a Hive and a little audience encouragement they concluded with their encore, Waterloo Sunset – in case they didn’t get to play it. They shouldn’t have worried though, the crowd cried out for more and the penultimate song finished the evening.
Suck it and See – Don’t forget your next opportunity to hear the DIY poets in action will be at the Jam Café on Tuesday 31st March featured poet will be….. Ms Shortall.
And the next diy Maze gig is on 14th May
Lytisha and Clare
Photo by LytishaPhoto by LytishaPhoto by LytishaPhoto by LytishaPhoto by LytishaPhoto by Lytisha
Photo by Lytisha
DIY POETS Present ‘Suck it and See’ – Jam Cafe, Tuesday March 31st – FREE ENTRY!
Sick of cruising the drag bars night after night? Suck it and see with the DIY POETS instead! An opportunity to sample some of Nottingham’s finest spoken word as one of Nottingham’s most well established performance poetry collectives tear it up at the Jam Cafe, see below for details, shaping up to be a grand night. FREE ENTRY!
Vintage Poetry: ‘The Owl’ by Edward Thomas – discourse by Frank McMahon
First World War Memorial, Gheluvelt Park, Worcester
The Owl is a poem written by Edward Thomas, one of the most celebrated of the poets writing about the First World War. Most of his poems are not directly about the trenches but the war features in a more oblique way.
It is a poem about both fulfilment and deprivation, and draws on Thomas’s experience of the front line. It is also a poem about the emotions of empathy and guilt.
The poet is tired, hungry and cold but he will get rest and reach the “sweetest thing under a roof”. His physical discomfort is temporary. The first word of the poem is “downhill”. He has completed the effort of climbing up the hill and things will be easier for him from now on. While the poet recuperates with warmth, rest and food he suddenly hears the owl’s cry, which is explicitly said to be “melancholy” and “no merry note” and penetrates the silence of the night. The owls cry reminds Thomas of the suffering he had undergone when he was on the hills but more so it reminds him of the more permanent greater suffering of those who could not escape. He says that he has “escaped”. The owl’s cry seems to represent his conscience and his capacity for empathy. The owl represents for Thomas “all who lay under the stars, soldiers and poor, unable to rejoice.”
Suddenly his food seems “salted”. This implies that he feels guilty about the suffering that he has escaped and other could not. He suddenly loses in some sense the pleasures of the inn.
I find the poem, which uses simple language, powerful, especially the wonderful metaphor of the sound of the owl in the night.
After brief introductions from Frank McMahon, founder of DIY poets, Poeticus Autisticus (AKA Trevor Wright) took the stage to deliver a finely tuned set with sharp wordage about subjects as diverse as time travel and drones. Often the political nature of some poets limit their vocabulary which reduces their work to propaganda as opposed to art. This is not the case with Poeticus who speaks the truth articulately and the message is delivered, well crafted and poignant.
Orla Shortall is a fine Irish lass who delivered a set of twisted love poetry in a broad accent. From women who are difficult to love to men who are difficult to love, with Victor Hugo references, golden chalices and magic mushrooms. A woman scorned with cutting wit. As Olga repeated the lines: “if you want to leave then leave”, nobody did because they were mesmerised. One of the poems was even written that afternoon at 2pm whilst in “the office” , ooooppps, never mind anything can be forgiven when poetry is this good.
Next we have the first poetry performance virginity loss of the evening, and how! Claire Louise stammered and stuttered, twitched and rocked as she delivered a poem about mania from a first person perspective. There was nothing wrong with the delivery. It was perfect for the subject matter and her movements were in all the right places. I will probably say awesome more than once in this review but that’s because it was the evening it was. “It will pass, it will pass, it will crash”. Claire Louise was awesome, brave, honest and awesome.
Beer and fag break, quick introduction, then Marty Everett. The smooth operator of the evening. Slick in a Bill Hicks kind of way with clever, truthful verse ,about the education system. About how in real life “failure is an option” and yes our children are being sold out. “don’t build statues of the thinking man, be the thinking man”. Marty’s “dragon dances” and we were moved.
The picture on tonight’s poster was of Dylan Thomas, our next poet’s hero. So John Humphries did a trio of related poems. The first being a rendition of Simply Red’s “Money;s Too Tight to Mention” (someone had pointed out the picture on the poster actually looked liked Mick Hucknall) in a posh BBC Dylan Thomas voice. Surreal. Next a rendition of a Dylan Thomas poem performed in a posh BBC Dylan Thomas accent. Surreal. Then a sonnet to Dylan Thomas performed in a posh BBC Dylan Thomas accent. Surreal. John Humphries was brilliant in his off kilter genius. Spot on, in a posh BBC Dylan Thomas accent.
Clare Stewart talks about dreams and red shoe minds. Reflections of Splendour at Woolerton Part. Empathic versifications on deafness. Hard metal and cut down trees. Life , death, compassion of an ethereal kind. Clare is in her poetry, invested and absolute. A set of quality verse gently spoken but scary nonetheless.
Frank McMahon donned with smart attire and pork pie hat verbalizes about not being concerned these days that he has lost his Morrisey quiff. Versed about biker friends who were more guardian angels than hell’s angels. Told rhythmic tales about navvies, football, Hurricane Higgins and a heart breaking poem full of Dr Who Imagery which finds Frank as a child hiding behind the sofa but not from Daleks but from his parents’ arguments. Totally eclectic in subject matter. Totally wondrous in verse.
A poet called Julian recited a poem about the loneliness and isolation of being a cyclist. The dangers of bad roads, careless drivers and total lack of respect cyclists receive from other road users, even pedestrians. The feelings of being despised and abused by bus drivers and drunk blokes on a night out. The poem was long but sharp. Attention keeping and angry. The props of bicycle and bell were incorporated. The tale was told, the message given and poetry of a high quality performed. It rang my bell.
Martin Grey was the headline poet of the evening. I first saw Martin several months ago and he was good. A young poet just starting out. Tonight he was fucking brilliant. One of the best poetry performance I have ever seen. Political in “All the bullets and all the bombs” in which shrapnel hits a young man in his head and he wonders if his mother is alive or dead. There was humour in his “Bread” poem, with tacky chat up lines based round puns about bread, I kid you not. His set had everything, heart break, anger, humour, “The Pretty Boys of G town” is a look back at his teenage years in Guilford and how history has a habit of repeating itself. It reminded me of a poetical version of Pete Seegers “Little Boxes” but with alcohol and chavs. Like I say, fucking brilliant.
Pegefo was the musician for the evening. Sweet, sweet music along the lines of Richard Thompson. One man, one acoustic guitar and a handful of beautiful songs. Unhinged love songs, ode to his mother. A lust for life conducted with serenity. “You think your something special do you”, a love song to the latest flame is one of those love songs which makes this old punk unashamed to like love songs. “not my bag” Pegefo introduced as an atheist anthem. I wonder if he felt the supernal nature of the music he plays. There was darkness, yet hope and encouragement running through his set. He even read a poem he wrote a few years ago. The second poetry virginity to be lost this evening.
Overall a great evening. The kind of evening one expects from DIY Poets. See you next time. (Eagle Spits).
