Spintegrity

liberty at the barricades

The passion and beauty of spin

Comrades – let me give you my take on the current miasma . We are looking at the same fundamental issue in many areas of political and societal affairs. At a simple level it is the demos against the élites. AND, the élites against the demos.

But, it ain’t that simple. The élites have the PR and the spin. A blurr of spin doctored conflicting medicine is poured down our throats by the axe grinding élite media. The laughable referendum came down to which spin you bought more of. The “democratic” will of the people is sovereign apparently to those who would destroy Corbyn despite his absolute democratic mandate to lead the Labour Party.

No Comrades, we are merely spectators as the élites do battle. Never has so much power been in the hands of so few. Everything you are told, everything you believe, everything you buy has only the weight of its spin. Energy and mass are interchangeable. Einstein’s theory of special advisor relativity has been proved yet again. Eu = messy squared.

Ah yes, wait for the Reflexit ticket at the next election. Remember where you heard it first and buy a poem. Well, maybe don’t go that far….it is uncharted land.

The best we can hope for is Spintegrity and the refuge of the convincing conspiracy theory. Is it not obvious that dodgy blonde hair anoints both Trump and Boris. Comrades – the golden masters are among us. At last something we can all believe in. Thank-you doctor.

 

 

 

 

Trouble at the barricades

I thought up a poem. It’s just that time of year I guess.

 

 

Riot Season

Rioting in primrose costume

bashing on the shields of equinox.

Looting fields of nesting fleece

from barbed wire frontier cops,

stamping territory on private keep out land.

Cuckoos scam my password secrets every time.

Mug – I click your link.

So hold it there.

Summer tempts you in with dreams

of permanence and power.

Hold it there

rock and youth in hand.

 

Poet in Reticence

IMG_2402

Oscar’s back!

Last time I was here was November 2014. Since then I’ve been holding it all in like the south heading entrails of my lifetime’s vanity. Guys – poetry and gravity never relent. In the end you have to breathe out, express the urgent bulge of the soul. It’s only poetry so it’s only us who’re gonna notice. You can wear the same waist size – just lower with more over the top honesty. Only the true poets will spot the inversion of dispersion.

And, I’ve got a job. I’m a poet in residence. I’m dressing up and pushing it out on the wham bam instagram at the Virtual Book Café. It’s a run-down-up-town kinda place where the glitzy-glam-slam’s just walking by but the perfume tempts just long enough to hit the membranes of the poetic underclass. And you know who you are. And I’ll sure know who you are.

I need your lips to frame your clips. I’ve put up some footage in mouthage to give you a steer if not quite a bulletin. Sit with an accomplice in your current  café venue or capture the moment itselfie  or just one off the shelf behind the counter. I’m looking for that left bank feel of ristretto  incision or smooth latte reflection.

Do you wanna hang out?

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/virtualbookcafe/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/VirtualBookCafe/

Twitter: @VirtualBookCafe

Dark Dark Friday Of The Soul

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-30241459OK – I’d given up blogging. Then I re-discovered my joy in poetry. Then came Black Friday. I can’t hide from it. This is what we are. This is what I am.

I was a cop in riots. I lashed at hated unknown people. A mob pulled me to the ground and tried to gouge out my hated unknown eyes. The rewind button adds no gloss or control or retrospective courage or nobility of conflict.

Once I was a revolutionary. Then I saw a raging mob and felt the heat of fire. I learned my own terror. I learned other people’s terror. I got the close up breaking news sensational interview on rape. Her lip dripped blood onto the statement form.  I became a Christian Democrat but without the ballot box or Christ.

Then I saw Black Friday. Without something outside or within ourselves – we are ourselves. This is what we are. This is what I am. I can’t dress it up. Do you have some better clothes? Should I have snatched a bargain TV to channel hop for better news?

Let’s not be too harsh. The trampling mob are the powerless schmucks. How the ruling class love to see the consumer frenzy. The holders of true wealth and power have no need to dive for coins thrown in the mud. A gentle push on the one arm bandit button pays out every time when you’ve built the odds into the machine yourself.

I can’t avoid it. This is what we are. This is what I am.

Paperback Writer. Freeze Frame Gets Ink.

017The proof of the pudding is in the reading. Yes, the paperback proof copy of Freeze Frame” arrived on Monday. Of course, there were a few issues but I think we are on top of them and all the corrections have been made.

In order to authenticate the existence of an actual new book in the universe, you will see a photo of editor Sparrow in the act of reading it. You may wonder about the figure peering over the chair. I would like to say that it is the bust of a Faber and Faber poetry editor that I had immortalised in concrete. Come to think of it – why not say that? It is not true but if anyone wants to know the truth please leave a comment. Does it remind you of anyone?

Freeze Frame has now been submitted to Smashwords, may I say, not without a lot of geek-squeak. Poor old Jill at Gallo-Romano has been rooted to the keyboard with formatting issues. As a platform, Smashwords is not for the faint-hearted. Watch this space – it won’t be long.

I have been working today on the road. All I have heard on cab radio is excited media persons talking about David Bowie releasing a new single to mark his 66th birthday. It is being billed as a significant retrospective by a frail old geezer. I must admit to having been very cheered by the whole circus. Here I am, only a little younger and still looking for a start. When you think about it, that’s a good place to be. If you’ve missed the bowie-wow in the window today,(Obvious reference to death of Patti Page) here is a link.

Freeze Frame Anthology – Published

Santa maybe

Santa may-be

Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am a reasonably serious old bloke who has scribbled poems for about 50 years. Finding myself posing in a Santa hat holding a Kindle Fire device for a picture to be captioned with punny quips made me wonder if I had lost the plot. If I appear disrespectful to poets and poetry I do apologise. O brave new world that has such peep-shows in it. Such is the circus of the modern book world. Apparently some fiction writers are so busy on the road that all their stuff is done by ghost writers. Seemingly it’s the brand that matters. It seems incredible to me. Perhaps I won’t beat myself up over the Santa hat. If it makes poetry more accessible and unstuffy then it has to be a Google plus. I defy anyone to ghost write in the style of any of the six Freeze Frame writers.

Far more importantly, the book is out there and up on Amazon. It was delivered without anaesthetic during the night, about 24 hours premature but at a good weight and with powerful voice. This is not the end of course but at least everything is all together and in one place. The stars are the poets who had enough faith in me to join in and risk all to be part of the Freeze Frame project.

Tomorrow evening 1800 hours UK (GMT)  – 12 noon USA EST – there will be a launch party at which all can meet the poets. There will be readings and comments and hopefully a few silly hats.  This takes place on Facebook with a live link to a Google+ ‘Hangout’ – you can watch us all having our virtual champagne and reading a selection of poems from the collection.  Here’s the link:

Stop the world – FREEZE FRAME – it’s the launch party!

Find the book here:
Amazon USA
Amazon UK
Amazon Canada
Amazon Germany
Amazon France
Amazon Italy
Amazon Spain
Amazon Japan
Amazon Brazil

Ho Ho Ho!