Wednesday 20 October 2010

Any healthy man can go without food for two days - but not without poetry



"Any healthy man can go without food for two days - but not without poetry." - Baudelaire

John-John, Paul(ine) and I had another interesting and entertaining evening thanks to the lovely Paul Burston and his fantabulosa Polari gay literary salon! Even if this specially-themed "Polari goes Poetry" night did expose the fact that maybe, just sometimes, poets should let other people read their poetry...

Case in point was our opening reader Peter Daniels. His poetry is incisive, but short. And he rather befogged the audience by not indicating when each of these little thoughtful pieces was finished, so it was rather embarrassing not knowing when (or if) to clap at the appropriate moments. Some of his poems are brilliant, however! I particularly loved this lascivious little fantasy:
Breakfast, Palermo
One golden glazed bun, sliced open.
One scoop of custardy ice cream, speckled
with chips of fruit and chocolate. Sandwich them lavishly.

To be eaten in uniform by a young soldier,
with one careless hand, espresso in the other.
At the chrome bar, more coffee is hissing.
Sunshine slants in early, yellow.
Not a speck on his trousers.

[James McKay, Peter Daniels, Dean Atta, Sophia Blackwell, Keith Jarrett, Mark Wallis, Paul Burston]

Mr Daniels was followed (in complete contrast) by a rather more savvy performer - the musician and poet James McKay. Anyone who can open a set with the line "in the beginning was the word and the word was probably obscene but no-one was quite awake enough to properly hear it so I guess that makes it all right!" has my vote, anyhow. And, Geordie hunk that he is, he caused a bit of a frisson with John-John and Paul...

Hilariously, he got us all up out of our seats for a moment's contemplation, as he called us to a "prayer" - then proceeded to solemnly recite the opening lines from Bagpuss! Marvellous stuff. Read more about James at his "Make Poetry History" page.

Polari favourite the very lovely Dean Atta is always a joy - we love his enthusiasm for language, and his staunch attitude towards being gay in a hostile urban world. He read a new very poignant poem about an abusive relationship, which silenced the audience somewhat, but bounced back to the eternal crowd-pleaser - shagging!

Mr Atta's poem Morning Sex is one of my favourites from the past year or so of readings, and it went down just as well last night with the assembled Polari-ites:



You can download Dean's latest compilation album of poetry free at http://www.deanatta.co.uk/ - you know you want to...

Keith Jarrett opened the proceedings after the break (during which we took in the beautiful view from the rooftop St Paul's Pavilion), with a few of his youthful and energetic writings, which were fun and uplifting. But my dears - our next turn was one major mind-fuck!

Mark Wallis - who usually goes by the nom-de-plume of "I Am Cereal Killer" - with his bizarre face-paint is a "performance artist" and published poet. Although I don't think he was too well for last night's "performance", as he stumbled and slurred his way through some of his pithy autobiographical poetry about emotions, homosexuality, AIDS and his native Cornwall.

We were left feeling a little uncomfortable after that, so it was just as well we had the lovely and gorgeous lady lesbian poetess and glam diva of the poetry world Sophia Blackwell to finish off proceedings with a bang! Part burlesque, part drama queen and wholly brilliant! You can listen to some of Sophia's work on her MySpace profile page.

Another fabulous night - can it really be Polari's third birthday next month? How time flies... An unmissable event, and one I always really look forward to! We have our tickets booked already.

Polari

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