Poetry in ‘Ackney

Five years ago I joined a poetry group in Hackney Central Library and felt very uncomfortable. Members either bared their souls or were suspiciously looking around the table. I did go with two nutcases who came along for the ride so in fairness it was difficult for the facilitator to pitch the event correctly. There were many oversized egos present and plenty of earnest poetry reading voices. Stephen Fry knows what I mean.

Anyway the facilitator persevered because he was passionate about his spiritual journey and just wanted to get a creative writing group going without any reference to ‘pop-up’ or any nod to the Olympic and Paralympic Games 2012. I could be wrong.

The Wordlovers Society (ugh! How I hate that title) has its celebration of being active in Clapton Library for five years and that takes place freely on 5th December 2013 at the Hackney Museum at 5.30pm. Yay!

So tonight I went to the poetry-share (my word) hosted by Cirillo at the Centre For Better Health in Darnley Road Hackney. I was terribly late having had a nail-biting day. The sessions are every fortnight at 6pm. I arrived there breathless and near to the end but had to get there because of my own passion, my respect for the facilitator and other poets and because its a friendly social meeting.

During the last session we did discuss the use of the word “nutcase” even as we sat in the hall of a building dedicated to people with mental health issues and knowing full well that some of our poets had been “sectioned”. At one point we discussed Baden Prince Junior’s poetry and I’d refused to read one of the poems because it had in it the word “vagina”. Now that word is huglee! Then a member offered “I love the word “c**t and I needed a wire for my dropped jaw. In the same paragraph another guy said “half-caste”. Now I usually correct that racist language, with a big Miss Piggy smile and flick of hair , but I was still reeling from hearing the c-word, enunciated with a licked tongue poking around full lips, and the blatant confession from a woman about loving it.  The statement was made with full-on relish. Note to self, “I really must step up my lesbian detection powers”.

There will be a sharing of poems on 11th December 2013 at The Centre for Better Health Hackney as an added feature in the launch event of RAGWORKS wall-hangings. We shall view, sit around, munch on nibbles, possibly sip some wine and laugh. Everyone is welcome. Five o’clock.

At the pictures

Fela. Stratford Picture House £13. I am happy I never paid more. I predicted it would be bums, anti-colonial and nothin’ new then. I tried. I’d rather watch Beyonce bouncing and at least smiling at the punters as she danced. The production was streamed by satellite from the National Theatre. It was all so been here before and sensationalist. After an hour of tedious dance routines which you can catch on any music channel, then on came Fela’s mother full of dramatic angst. By that time I’d been sick of getting up every five minutes for selfish late-comers that I thought I’d just go.  I know it’s the flicks but it was a special showing so you’d think we’s all be on time and ready to start together. You’d think. What was the National Theatre thinking of? Where was the intellectual clout?

Was so ashamed of Leytonstone High Road on my way on the 257 to the Stratford Cultural Quarter. The Olympics Park is progressing but next door, up the road, pubs have shut, shops are dismal or boarded and the whole gruesome road needs an uplift. It will never come, will it?

Was so happy to get in just 2 mins before Corrie started. Yeh!

Went on the 277 bus from Well Street just before St Joseph’s Hospice over to the London Museum at Docklands. The river was sparkling with the reflection of the lights off the Orange Bridge. Felt the high security going on there. Good. Attended the London Short Film Festival with 14 short films. Latecomers! Never seen the like. So between their silhouettes I enjoyed so many films and especially “The Hook”. It was quite surreal. Others were equally of a high calibre.  Again following  Tuesday night’s experience the acting was superb.

Bumped into KG Lester the Hackney poet who runs 2 sessions of poetry appreciation every week at Clapton Library, Hackney. Small world.

Watched at full blast twice “Down From The Mountain” on Skyarts showcasing the music which was used for the soundtrack of “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?”