Performance Poetry in Islington and Camden

Performance Poetry in Islington and Camden

21 July, 2008
by: Jimmy

My last poetry reading before moving to the bright lights was at a Working Men's Club in Preston. It was Sunday morning and my brother and I had been sent to find eggs but after cycling in from Cottam found the Co-op had been shut while Lancashire Police removed the shop's CCTV footage for review. The store manager was sitting on the step looking glum and picking at his nails, 'I'm not allowed to open up until they bring the film back because of the insurance but they won't finish looking through it until Thursday. There are only two thousand peaches sitting in a crate round the back. People always forget what they taste like. You only need to smell the rot once.' 

We asked him if he had any eggs, 'Eggs! Five hundred eggs and our fridge!' He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, 'Are you working for the council or something?' We shook our heads. My brother was wearing an Echo the Dolphin t-shirt and I had two coats on and an Imperial Cancer bag. 'You sure? Because this isn't our fault you know? If it's anyone's it's yours.' He wedged his thumb at my chest, 'You definitely look like you work for the council.'

'We don't work for the council', my brother said.

'Yeah well I can see you don't but I'm not so sure about him. Know what I'm saying?' He sniffed and rubbed his fingers together, 'So you just going to stand here or do you want a pint? They do cocktails and poetry down the club on a Sunday. I like a bit of poetry on Sunday. You like poetry?'

'I write a bit -' I began.

'Yeah everyone's a fucking poet these days,' he said.

It had started to drizzle. I didn't fancy cycling back. We followed him.

At the club the co-op owner added ketchup to his Bloody Mary and explained the basics of 'Performance Poetry'. We hadn't asked him to but it was his round.

'Now I could talk you about Homer and about Dylan Thomas and about how important reading this fucking stuff aloud is and how it all started with performing and improvising stuff round the communal... tipi or whatever. But the point I'm trying to make is it's not just what you write, it's how you perform it see? What you choose to read is vital and must be suitable for your audience. When you stand up there, with that microphone in the near total silence, you are entering into a pact with them. That is almost mystically sacred thing. So if you bore them, patronize them or embarrass them they will rip your fucking skull off. Albeit metaphorically. Now let me give you kids some straight advice so that you can enjoy the evening and not make tits out of yourselves.'

At the other tables and around the bar the poets of Preston had begun to limber up. They gurned into their Hoegaarden pint glasses and murmured Gregorian chants under their breath. A man in the corner fitted his latex nasal strip and started to gargle his Guinness.

'Rule 1: It's all in the wrist. Remember that. Nothing worse than dropping your poem; losing your Mojo. I used to watch this fascist tramp - always wore a cricket jumper - and he'd never remember which side of the envelope he'd started the poem on. It was embarrassing.
'Rule 2: Unless you have an exceptionally filthy mind do not attempt to compete at smut with regular pub poetry performers until you've been to a few readings. These guys are virtually professional. They write love odes to their pubic lice. On which note -
'Rule 3: Do not read poems about your pets. Especially dead ones.
'Rule 4: Do not write Faux-Shakespearian doggerel. We all try it once, but then again we all try mixing Lambrini and boot polish once, don't we son?
'Rule 5: Do not write something while watching other poets, and then perform it later on in the evening. When you've been to a few evenings you will understand.
'Rule 6: In my opinion - avoid politics.
'Rule 7: Do not expect women to sleep with you because you write brilliant verse. It never happens without cheekbones.
'Rule 8: Unless you're a Mormon or whatever, it is preferable, for everyone, if you perform drunk.
'Rule 9: When you're listening don't expect to understand everything. Over half of what is read you won't hear. Most will pass you buy like Shakespeare or Sigur Ros or Ketamine: first ambient noise and then your ass goes numb. Embrace it. Nevertheless, and especially in London, you may find an air of menace which brings me to-
'Rule 10. Do not be intimidated. Take deep breaths, relax and be friendly. That way they are less likely to throw stuff. Now spread the word'

For the next hour we listened to poetry and drank Gimlets. After the second poet my brother started to twitch. After the fifth poet he disappeared to the bathroom and didn't emerge for forty minutes at which it was the turn of the co-op manager. When he stood up the other poets enthusiastically banged their mugs on the tables. He gave a little cough and raised his arms like a conductor. They went quiet. He scraped his grey hair back and someone swooned. 'I'll start with, ahem, one of my greatest hits,' the other poets grunted with appreciative expectation. Then he placed his papers carefully on the lectern and closed his eyes,

'Between my fingers and thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun-'

He broke off suddenly and his eyes swivelled towards our table, all eyes followed his. 'Boys,' he said, 'I've just remembered where you can buy an egg.'

There are a number of local poetry groups in Islington and Camden but if you want an introduction to the scene probably the best place to start is at Shortfuse [The Camden Head, Camden Walk, Islington; every Thursday; "fusion of stand-up poetry, performance comedy and spoken word" www.20six.co.uk/shortfuse 020 8536 0652, Angel]. Many of London's best poets read here regularly (from Hugo Williams to Aisle 16). The atmosphere is relaxed, the drinks aren't overwhelmingly expensive.

If you're writing but you want some tips or feedback there are also a number of workshops in the area including:

Camden Voices meet Wednesdays during term times. 7-9 p.m at Working Men's College, Crowndale Road, London NW1.
Information from Dinah Livingstone Tel:0171 485 3830 Enrolments: 0171 387 2037

Camden MIND poetry workshops at the Diorama Arts Centre, 34 Osnaburgh Street, London NW1 3ND, alternate Tuesdays, starting at 7.30pm. Admission free.

Camden Poetry Group meets Saturdays once monthly at 6.30pm.
Send sample poems to Hannah Kelly, 64 Lilyville Rd., London SW6 before attending

Islington Poetry Workshop meets once a month, 7.30 - 9.30 p.m., on alternate Tuesdays (so as not to clash with Sub Voicive) at Charteris Community Centre, 96 Moray Road, London N4 3LA (3 minutes walk from Finsbury Park tube, Wells Terrace exit. It's on the corner of Woodfall Raod and Moray Road).
Bring along about six copies of your work for friendly and supportive discussion.
More details from Frances Presley FPresley@compuserve.com

First published 6 January 2007

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Jimmy