Last week at Special Sounds, we abandoned our usual pop quiz in favour of something a little more creatively stimulating. Kicking off the evening, I invited our assembled guests to write me a poem, with a prize on offer of this month's mixtape (lovingly compiled by the Spirit of Gravity's Señor Cheesemaster). I fully expected almost no-one to show an interest and a paltry smattering of half-arsed verse to follow, but I was pleasantly surprised by a plethora of fine poems. Please allow me to share with you some of our favourites . . . .Once upon a man there was a time,a fleshy construct born of rhyme,and in his mind there was a pen,the paper hopes and dreams of men.L. Renshaw_______________________Preconceptions poisoned a powerful statementLaymens terms applyThis fool is hardly the apples of my eyeNo tool to maintain this guyM.O.T., D.O.A.,somethign surely went astray,ran away,but not from homesluts on the phoneyou tut, i moanseasonal sorry sad metronome"Tiny, tone it down!"Bassline buried frownunder some gorge ofother hims and hersgospel hymns and church choir furoh father i pray to beblessed with your sordid slur.Powers that be, arguinglove motives assumingly.Aggressive as it was solight to touch but fear offumble - your tears willcrumble this establishment's walls.T.M._______________________Intense?Kissing youExplosion!As you walk up the stairsI already miss you!- Why haven't you answered?Are you angry?Are you sad?Don't be - I'll call again later . . .or send you the tenth text.She: I'll never snog again!_______________________In your ragged shirtno style, no modefive quid is too muchyou saidfor a t-shirtAnd you were right.No 'do' for youclippers will sufficeoh how we laughedat the slavesHow shallow, we saidand we were rightWithout warningNo bell announcedIn other wordsI was surprisedWhen ragged became passéand a grandwas not enoughclippers begone,the hair it shoneHow fabulous they saidand they were right._______________________Sitting here in Oliver'sListening to Special SoundsPints are very expensiveEach one costing four poundsWailing accordiansBoxes full of beatsWe all love it at Oliver'sShame there's no spare seats(except the ones down there. And over there.)James Dale_______________________Haikus are easyBut sometimes they don't make senseRefrigerator_______________________
Drawings of T-Toe and Laying on of Hands by Steve Reed of Club Silencio.
