Once A Year

Once A Year – Henry Raby

Only the elderly moaned to themselves, as the elderly are wont to do

About the fact donkeys, now rare, were chained and locked away in zoos

And beaches were populated by reindeer, much more sturdy and trustworthy

Who gave rides to small children wearing goggles for health and safety purposes.

When the sun was shining, middle-class Dads would invite round neighbours

And proudly BBQ turkeys on their fancy 4 grill-setting charcoal-packed fires.

Snotty teens played music loudly on buses, but were never asked to listen quietly

For they played (through tinny phone speakers) Wizzard, Slade and Maria Carey.

When men were made redundant and unable to put crackers on the table

They’d take their frustration out on their wives without anyone to save them.

And those without trees, whether real or plastic, in their houses

Were inevitably hounded down by cold cults and hung noiselessly

And the wanted man known only to the public as ‘The Christmas Strangler’

Never had it so good.

This week in The Spoken Word Scene

This past week I have had the pleasure, nay, the privilege to catch five of the finest spoken word artists in the UK.

Scroobius Pip is zig-zagging across the country as we speak.  He brought to York the wordsmith PolarBear and speaking siren Kate Tempest.  I’ve seen PolarBear a few times, but he performed a collection of new work which genuinely overshadowed his older material.  His older stuff is generally story-based, but his new stuff had this charm of being about stories.  I’ve seen Kate doing a scratch of Brand New Ancients, so it was a treat to see her poems and Sound of Rum raps in a gig context.  Then of course, the man himself, Mr Pip, doing his gloomy-yet-honed spoken word.  Then last night I was invited to compere Sticks & Stones.  The weather dented the crowd somewhat but everyone there was up for a good night.  Sally Jenkinson, a poet I’ve not heard before, have a lovely intimate style.  But, for me personally, all four of these names are eclipsed by Inua Ellams.  Not necessarily because of any specific poem or writing style or deliver, but Inua has trailblazed this fusion of spoken word, poetry and theatre with his shows The 14^th Tale, Untitled and Knightwatch.  I haven’t been able to see any of them sadly, but his craftsmanship is undeniable in whatever genre he works within.

So 2013 is coming close.  I fully intend to Raise My Game.  To take on all quarters.  To get more gigs, do more events and perform at more festivals.  So…book me please?