Long gone are the days
When Saturday nights for fighting.
I'm an old man now
And Saturday night's for writing.
Being depressed is meant to be
The cliched staple mood for a poet
If you believe in all that guff.
Imagine how I feel
As a Dulwich Hamlet fan
Who have just lost to
Bugger Bognor Regis!
The only way to lift that cloud
Is to jump on a train
Destination 'Platform One'
And share without a care
In the 'hidden world' of poetry.
From low to high
Elation you can't buy
My words went down a treat
Then I was on the edge of my seat
Basking in the glow
For the rest of the show
As 'Old Skool' poets
With working class roots
Took centre stage.
Believe me..
If Carlsberg did poetry nights.
Come Sunday..
And I'm on another planet
Literally, at the Amersham Arms
For the Lunar launch.
Normal service is resumed
The smattering of applause
Only proffered after a pause.
Ok. Average. Middle of the road.
And that is ok with me.
For that is where I want to be.
I am 'brave' enough to admit it now.
I AM A POET.
But I am also an average one.
A poet learning his 'trade'.
Dulwich Poet 13th October 2014
(I wrote this after I got a really good reception doing an Open Mic slot at Platform One, on Saturday night....in truth one that probably won't be repeated, my 'best moment' so far, in all of my public readings. I got 'lucky' with my readings and audience. On Sunday I read at the 'Lunar Poetry night Open Mic slots. Thoroughly enjoyable, but 'back down to earth'; so to speak)
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