under another sun

The greased poet Went for a swim today feeling very tired but decided that I had to do something as I am getting badly out of shape. Greased myself in Vaseline before I went for a swim, and bought a swimming cap too. And waddled out looking like a complete idiot. Labouring along with no zip in the pool too, but was pleased to have done it. Skin survived okay too. Left work on time to get to Brighton Poets. Boss raised eyebrow, which infuriated me. Made my way to the event which turned out to be as poor as last time's was good. Sparsely attended, and an execrable singer songwriter by way of half time entertainment. Read four poems which I nevertheless enjoyed doing. I did get talking to a few people however which was good but by the end of the evening was feeling decidedly rough. Home and a quick chat to Sarah before bed.

Back on the boards Well... My centre stage moment came quickly. I took myself down to the Sanctuary Cafe in Hove for an open mic night of poetry and song... And read my first poems at a real venue for about 13 years. Despite being rusty and strangely nervous, what I read was well enough received. And I was delighted to have broken through a mental barrier. I associated performing poetry (which I did for years, often several times a week) with my friend Tim who died of AIDS, and also with being continually skint. What I found however, was that I really enjoyed myself. The poetry was great, and very well performed with one or two excellent poems cropping up. The influence of rap is filtering through, since I went away, and there was one guy doing poetry improvised on the spot - a bit like the freestyling of rappers. Veered into logorrhoea sometimes but was still interesting. The evening was recorded, and the odd poem may be broadcast on a new local radio. There was a genuinely wonderful ...