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DIY Poets At the Maze 10th November 2016

10 January, 2017 Martin Dean Comments 0 Comment

First half reviewed by John Humphreys:

Slightly disappointing audience numbers were more than made up for by the quality of the poetry on display. Opening with Lytisha who announced she had no politics and miserable poems the first called Anxiety and full of “what ifs”. Last Biscuit had a perfect economy telling of brothers being naughty but always missed. Of the other poems, one set in a library with a ‘chid in a big chair on her own private island’ was sprinkled with magic, a great set, proving misery can also be beauty.
Andrew our host gave us a bad joke so moving on to Kevin wearing a striking mohair protest jumper (sometimes you have to mention the clothes) he graced us with striking imagery in his anti-war poems. Life’s a Memory had its ‘sun starved colour’ while others ‘froze in charcoal’ and White Stretched in Stone had its ‘ceremony of tears’ whilst in Back to it ‘young faces march out to die again’. It is not the necessarily the familiar events that move us but these striking images that linger as new paintings in the mind.
Martin Dean gave a fresh take on Guy Fawkes, appropriately describing him as “the only honest person to enter parliament”. Great images and lines abound again with ‘I’m going to write a fire’ and where ‘November breath hangs like wool in the air’. This was followed by a medical text poem set “within the golden chamber” with the ‘journey of a golden tear’ and ‘tattered skeleton orphan song’, very stirring stuff that highlights Martin’s winning streak with words.
Next up is Gwen A relatively new and very welcome new female voice to DIY who writes of gardening and cutting off stem heads as metaphor for the rituals and intimacies of human relations, then ‘Blowhole’ and the stuck life of her mother in Herne Bay where “you know you’ve been beached”. Then to return to the garden for what Andrew rightly described as a “mesmeric account” of more ritual, revisiting the same characters of her first poem. Hurrah for these refreshing new perspectives from an obviously talented poet.
Then for something completely different with Martin Grey and friend AKA From The Word Go where its all in the hat and a clever, funny checkout riff where the machine has its own voice ‘disapproval needed’ – you had to be there I think I’d need to say at this point. If I say the set had a tale of a kitchen vigilante and another with a washing machine, including the line ‘tumble when its dryer’, you get the sense of the madcap comic antics at play. Definitely a crowd pleaser.
Last but never least in the first half was Claire starting with a favourite of mine in ‘Peace-nick’ with its ‘blossoming anger’, then moving into dreams and nightmares held in the forests of childhood with Terror. Bob Dylan’s misogyny was the flip side to his Noble Prize for Literature for the man with wives and mistresse in ‘the harem of the God’ – ouch! A new one ‘He drove in Silence’ unleashed the difficulty of father / daughter relationships to devastating effect and then more of this with ‘Sisters in Recovery’ hoping and wanting for a sister. As always it’s her slow detailed observance of everyday life that packs such a big punch.
An excellent first half full of quality in all its varied guises and alternative voices from such distinctive and distinguished poets.

Second half reviewed by Kevin Jackson:

John Humphreys started the second half with a bang, confronting the theme of citizen v the state in a heartfelt poem called “Not waving but drowning”. This poem cast a painfully sharp light on the battle for benefits on behalf of his brother summed up in the line “stripped naked in the headlights of the world”.
John followed this with an intensely personal poem called “Invisible”. Built of 3 sections featuring legendary monsters, hawks and rocks the poem conveyed not so much an individual feeling invisible as an entire world slipping out of sight, “almost extinct”, vanishing under “silted layers of time”.
To buy John’s outstanding poetry collection The Day I Swallowed the World, please contact him via DIY Poets.
The next poet was John Merchant. John’s first poem “Mind Existence” begins with the oft-quoted “we are what we eat”, teases out the implications of this idea and ends with the characteristically witty “which sort of turns the mind of its head”.
John concluded with the poem “Health Wealth” which uses the theme of money to focus on our values: “Where your heart is, that’s where you spend”. The poem ends with a direct appeal to individuals and politicians: “Consider us, make it fit”.
Frank McMahon, DIY Poet’s inspiring founder, was the next poet up. Frank took us through a pacy set of short poems, linked through their use of fantastical imagery. “Alcohol”, “Behind the curtain” (using a Wizard of Oz image to explore real friendship), “Spiderman versus Superman” and “The Hulk” (a look at masculinity gone wrong). In “Jack and the Beanstalk” the poet surveys childhood disappointments, concluding wryly: “The beanstalk was all talk”. Transience/aging was the theme of “Elastic Bangle”, (? not sure of title….), told through a collection of once-prized bangles drying out, breaking.
In “Dr Who Childhood” Frank shows a child’s view of parental arguments, including the chilling line: “She may as well have been screaming exterminate, exterminate”
The set ended with “House of Sweets”, a thoughtful look at addiction using the Hansel & Gretel story: “In no time at all there was no road to follow”.
The next poet Trevor Wright began with a topical poem “Ode to Donald”. Using the theme of brick-laying (“tamp it and tamp it until it’s flat”), Trevor revealed the hidden cost of building walls between us: “Bastard wall, encasing our hearts”.
Trevor followed this by reading a powerful poem by Brian Bilston called “America is a Gun”.
The next poem, gloriously titled “Today’s rain becomes tomorrow’s spirit” wove a number of themes including storms and story-writing to encourage communitarian values: “Together we can weather these storms”… (but) “first we have to write ourselves a greater story”.
Stephen Thomas, stalwart of the Leicester poetry scene and co-host of Nottingham’s Poetry’s Dead Good, fired into a wonderfully energetic set with “You’re Awesome”.
A real life-affirming, high-energy poem, “You’re Awesome” reminds us “You were born a champion” and no matter what they throw at us “you’re the best version of you that says thank God I’m alive”.
In “Muddled Man” Stephen takes a sharp look at men who can’t take care of themselves: “You could charge 5p for those bags under your eyes”.
“Alphabet Spaghetti” is a book in progress comprising crisp, highly alliterative poems on each letter of the alphabet. V “Vote Vlad” imagines a vampire seeking our support. T’s “Twitter Troll called Tony” turns out to be 12. Watch this space for news of the book launch!
“For the record” celebrates all things vinyl (a passion of this reviewer), the romance of the record. It does so brilliantly by turning the tables, being written from the turntable’s viewpoint: “Entire cultures of people I’m moving”, ending “For the record, I’m for the record”.
For more of Leicester’s spoken word scene check out House of Verse http://houseofverse.co.uk/
Andrew Martin of DIY Poets was Featured Poet for this night. Opening his set, Andrew shared that “standing on stage you bare your soul” and told us that he wrote his first poem 10 years ago about a soldier killed in Iraq.
“Trump et cetera” launched the set using a children’s song to bring Trump down to size. “Time” developed chain-like to explore the personal and social aspects of time, moving from seasonal change via time travel to industrialisation requiring a standard definition of time. “Food Fight” wittily charts the decline of supermarkets like Tesco “Marmite jars are missing”. “Rhapsody of Realities” looks at those faiths which “mission” by giving out booklets, picturing these as a version of junkmail and warning “There’s no such thing as a free last supper”.
Andrew continued with “Badger Culling Trial” a sober poem viewing the countryside as a courtroom in which the badger is on trial. The poem probes the subject, posing many questions “Is it a black and white situation?” In “Two by two” the poet ranges over many situations where people operate in pairs including police on the beat (perfectly pointed by Andrew sporting what appeared to be a old-style police helmet that actually said Not Polite”). The poem ends darkly looking at prisoners: “Silent sentences throughout each long hour”.
“BHS British Hopes Stalled” takes Philip “Greed” to task with more of Andrew’s trade-mark rhetorical questions: “When did greed become fashionable?” “Mohammed Ali” explores Ali’s long and complex history as a fighter for social justice and the link between fighting and poetry.
“I Daniel Blake” takes its inspiration from the Ken Loach film to remind us of what it should mean to be a citizen.
Andrew rounded off a magnificent headline set with “Poet’s Day”, a survey of workers and working pondering the significance of Friday as the start of a weekend’s rest.
Andrew’s poems are vigorous, democratic not preachy, making statements, asking questions, highlighting patterns to which the listener can react.

Diy Poets at The Maze 31st August 2016

21 September, 2016 Lytisha Tunbridge Comments 0 Comment

Diy Poets report for Gig at the Maze, 31^st August 2016

Written by Lytisha and Clare Stewart.

Our regular evening of three halves began with Andrew Martin doing a sterling job of the nerve wracking role of compering the first half. Our first act was:

Martin Dean:

Martin kicked the evening off in great style. He opened by considering how salad would be, if presented in a modern art style. He Curated Salad, conjuring many tasty images, including watching as ‘Camels criss-cross cous cous dunes’. This great opening poem was followed with a poem he’d written with his wife. She, like many of her generation, had been a typist and practiced the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. Then Martin took us through several permutations which ranged from the ridiculous to the surreal. In the next poem Martin considered what it would look like to see someone else’s memories tied up in a parcel. Would you unwrap it for a peek? He concluded with a Haiku that asked What do willow herbs think? Much food for thought in our opening act.

Jeff Marshall:

Jeff, as the timer for all the other acts, had the difficult task of timing himself, but he seemed to finish before the need to shine bicycle lights in his own eyes. He read three poems, the first about all the fun of the fair that can be experienced at music festivals. NOT. Mud, toilets, getting lost, rain, snoring strangers, tripping on tentlines, flies, heat and waiting in queues. Mmm, can’t wait. Then a poem about hating shopping with a certain ‘she’ – I guess Jeff’s wife/partner – who apparently loves shopping, or does it quite enthusiastically anyway. As someone who also hates shopping, I can’t help but side with Jeff on this one, but also can’t help wondering why he puts himself through it! And third, an anti-fracking poem. I found this a really interesting poem with some oomph packed in and good poetic force behind the message.

John Merchant:

This was John’s debut at the Maze with Diy Poets. He treated us to a fine set of four poems. The first, Pressures, looked at all the pressures society imposes and how we can recognise and react to them. The Second, Be Careful, explored the ideas of mis-understandings. In Clutterbuck, John looks at timing. And suggests the interlude is ‘not now, later, no later still…’ sounds like me writing to a deadline! On that note, John reminded us all in his final poem that it’s all about Timing. Maybe now ‘is the time to take stock’. Taking stock of John’s inaugural performance, I think we have a lot to look forward to in the future.

Kevin Jackson:

Kevin sported a very fetching stag t-shirt. And gave us a lovely poem about David Bowie, ‘Starman filling us with stars’. Then a very tender portrait of his mum with a refrain that she likes growing orchids, but is not able to do it these days. Uses a great image about the ticking clock that Kevin must have been hearing most of his life being like his own twin, sprung tight. And finally, keeping within the allotted five minutes, Kevin read a beautiful poem that conjured up lots of images of trees and their sap and their roots, that we’re all gifted and have the potential to fly out from the tops of the trees.

Phil Deakin:

Phil introduced his three poems, all of which seemed to have self reflective themes. The first, Anonymous Anemone, makes us consider the anemone, as see its’ spiky behaviour in a more sympathetic light when we remember that although ‘it has no mortal enemy’, it is still lonely as it hides away at night. The second poem was an homage to his home district. Phil dedicated it to all the East Side Massive represented in The Maze. Netherfield, in all its flawed glory was brought to life and the ‘maelstrom of people’ were conjured by Phil’s descriptions. He concluded; ‘perfect it may never be, but Netherfield is my home’. For his final piece, entitled Walking Contradiction, Phil had to translate some street talk for some of us old farts, introducing the concept of ‘fleek’. (I’ll let you discover it for yourself, if you don’t already know). He then went on to tell us about his experience with facial hair fashions and the resultant experience begs the question: facial hair fleek or eek?

Lytisha :

Lytisha was feeling jolly, having just finished her dissertation, and wanting to put it behind her, a little bit, she read older poems that didn’t have anything to do with that work. Lytisha shows us what she sees with her magnifying-glass-vision as she gazes and ponders on the insubstantial, the small, the detail. Curious, quirky, we saw, with the sluggish and detached vision of someone bereaved watching their own hands, how a cloth dries a pot that then gets put away. And then, another poem, how, when looking at moving lights, on closer inspection, it’s not the lights moving but the trees waving about in front of the lights – these tiny misunderstandings that temporarily confuse and blur the mind and contribute to a feeling of general vertigo. She also brilliantly showed us a blank page called Forgetfulness, a poem she’d forgotten to write… And a poem about the Olympics that she hadn’t been able to see for tears of admiration. And then some random-sounding poems, an exercise in first lines, intriguing and surreal.

After a short refreshment break, our second of the three halves was neatly compared by Hazel Warren. The first act she introduced was:

Jamie Thrasivoulou:

Strong rhythm and strong rhyming schemes, and loud, a bit reminiscent of Attila the Stockbroker, as well as our own dear Eagle. Jamie is new to Diy but certainly not new to performing. We were regaled with a poem about police corruption, especially when it comes to dealing with people with mental health problems, and even worse, black people with mental health problems. Then an angry Brexit poem, shouted enviably from memory, again about corruption at the top and pointing out that us down here are generally very humane. Then a poem calling on all us creative souls to lead the fight against prejudice, we have a responsibility, because of our unique ability to communicate, we can, we should unite people.

From the Word Go:

From the Word Go are a performance collective including regular Diyer, Martin Grey, with Julian, freshly returned to Nottingham, and ably assisted by Kira. They gave a us a visually as well as aurally exciting set. We saw: goldfish in a bowl, spinning plates, guns, mirrors, and movement in a opener that got us thinking about who calls the shots. The second piece, which was spoken and accompanied by djembe, saw us ‘battling over that piece of peace of mind,[ …].the rain outside my window, the pain outside my soul’. The metaphor reflecting the turmoil of the mind was engagingly delivered. Great to have Martin back on stage and the team From the Word Go will. I’m sure, have much more to entertain us with.

Richard C Bower:

Richard’s meteoric rise seems unstoppable now as he trips down to London in November. Good luck with that. He found poetry relatively recently and has felt its therapeutic, cathartic muscle. His first poem this evening was about this, of finding poetry on the ocean bed, of how it transforms the poet, it’s a ‘playground for disaffected philosophers’. His next poem, ‘Flying on Shadowless Wings’ about ‘hanging on the edge of reality’ and says that it is possible to turn disaster into something beautiful.

Clare Stewart:

Clare treated us to a trio of tales which were inspired by her time working in a nursing home and reflecting on the changes as we age. Mr Lawson was the eternal optimist, as he waited in vain for his son at the door, coat on ready for the off at a moment’s notice. Then we heard how one lady used her limited language during her slow recovery from a stroke. ‘Okey Cokey, Cokey Cokey’, words that imply an inherent good humour, trapped in a body that had to take time to relearn and recover. Clare’s final poem, Old Man in a Bath again shows the spirit inside. ‘Old man soft’, yet his mind was still dreaming of the sensuous side of life. A delightful trio of portraits, reminding us all of the individuals we all are. And that although our bodies may age, inside we remain the same; and many of us are mischievous kids.

Andrew Martin:

Andrew M, relieved of compering duties in the second half of the evening, read a poem commemorating Ken Barry, creator of Postman Pat. Andrew used the rhythm and sense of the Postman Pat song to tell us about Mr Barry, ‘perhaps a mail sack will serve as a shroud’, and the Last Post will play in mourning. His next poem was about the renewal and the extending of the laws about badger-culling, denouncing the new rulings because it doesn’t help eradicate TB, and it causes suffering to the badgers, the justifications for the cullings is a load of bull – Andrew uses puns throughout his poems, poems often seem to trace his meandering thoughts as he’s on a bike ride or walk. His last poem was a beautiful description of one of my favourite places, the Hope Valley (Oh, why don’t we all live in Hope? Sorry, that’s my own, not Andrew’s…).

John Humphreys:

Aka Jollity John for this evening. John was in a good mood. I know that, because he told us. Buoyed by his recent trip to Edinburgh festival, and not even troubled by forgetting to bring the copies of his book that he would’ve promoted had he had any, John set off on one of his customary rambling introductions that entertained us at length with twists and turns and references to Lady Di Tartan. Eventually embarking on the new poem inspired by an incident that occurred in Edinburgh. John, despite missing the award winning performance that he’d booked, had a special tale of his own. Stewart Lee stole my chair! After examining the miserable expressions on the faces of the comedy glitterati, John concluded by reminding us that ‘poetry is much cheaper than therapy’. I would also add to that, much more entertaining too.

Featured Poet: Eagle Spits:

Eagle, the inexplicable, the anarchic, the punk haired, and the shouty, our featured poet of the evening. Disappointingly, he didn’t wear a kilt, but only wore some trousers with a bit of tartan down the front. Eagle’s been in diy for a couple of years maybe, and we are glad to see him well and back on the scene again after a bit of an absence. Well, has Eagle ever performed a quiet poem? Well, yes. But, generally, it’s hard for a poor reviewer to keep up and my notes have sure got erratic here but thankfully, Rachel thought to film some of his set him and put it up on FB. Go look. Fantastic!

Eagle appeared on the stage first with a little robot that couldn’t stand up straight. His first poem was about being beat up for being a punk…

Eagle pointed out that political poems have a sell-by date as events move on, but read a poem about D Cameron anyway. ‘Hey Mr Cameron, God’s camera is on you, recording all your evil’ and Death will catch up on you, just as he did Faustus.

Poem about corruption at the BBC, and how it doesn’t work for us, or represent us. ‘Freedom of the press is freedom to ignore’.

The one he did last time about the meanness and unfairness of council posters telling people not to give money to homeless people in the street.

A protest song about the refusal or unwillingness to help refugees. Rachel joins in this one with her lovely deep folky voice ‘The poor are my family, my siblings, my kin, Open the borders and let them all in.’

Poem about the enemy being the state.

I was a bit responsible for the next poem, or my rubbish satnav is, aided by an RTC somewhere in Basford, that Eagle wrote whilst waiting for a lift, and I was late. A sweet and hopeful poem, describing the end of all this fascist, moneymaking, bombdropping warring. At the end of our nightmare, we’ll realise our dream – ‘children and kittens and food that is fresh’. A quiet Eagle poem.

Eagle then berated his poor little robot for looking pissed. Leave it alone, yah bully!

Slightly misquoting Philip Larkin, Eagle’s next poem began ‘They fuck you up the Tory cunts’. A general anti-Tory poem.

Another favourite, protesting against the very cowardly drone bombs that murder civilians indiscriminately, in a sanitised way, that means no whites of eyes are ever glimpsed, no hearing of screams, no chance to check you’re even killing the person you meant to kill. Can’t believe it really, who dreams up these things?

‘The first casualty of war is truth.’ Eagle here protesting about state-sanctioned murder and how angry he is. (No kidding.) ‘People are starving, murdered by greed.’

Lastly Chelsea Manning, the US army soldier who leaked films and info to WikiLeaks about the Iraq war in 2013 ‘Like a leper with a candle, I want to feel the pain’, a wanting to feel alive even if it hurts, just so long as it’s open and honest and truthful. And I guess that says it for Eagle, a yearning for peace and compassion but not at the sacrifice of truth.

Finally our third half was the music brought to us this evening by Dog Explosion

Dog Explosion are Oliver, his laptop, and a stuffed dog wearing glasses. Oliver performed a set of his own work, covering a range of topics as diverse as memes, dreams, self delusion and relaxation. He writes and records his own music tracks and accompanies himself by sing over them live.

At times reminiscent of the sound of ‘80’s German band Kraftwerk in his delivery, Oliver regales us with tunes including Talking, Fire Power, and Relax and Enjoy. We explored themes of memes, and when reality is confused with online presence. He also sung of fighting ‘this disease called sleep’, I have to say, as diseases go, that’s my favourite! In Talking a cynical voice tells us ‘I’ll believe in anything, if it gets me what I want..’ as the idea of religion is explored.

Thanks were sent to all involved, the writers and poets, the musical act, Jon for doing a fine job on the sound desk, staff at The maze and the fine audience for joining us. That concluded our Summer gig at The Maze.

A great evening of wordsmithery, with music, juggling, and fairy lights for good measure.

See you all same place, Thursday 10^th November. In the meantime, keep an eye out for more Diy Events.

Lytisha and Clare.

Review DIY Poets Thursday 12 February 2015

16 February, 2015 Andy Szpuk

By Clare Stewart and Lytisha

DIY POETS Maze gig 12^th 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 4^th 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 30^th 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 31^st 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 31^st March featured poet will be….. Ms Shortall.

And the next diy Maze gig is on 14^th May

Lytisha and Clare