Hi, I really wanted to add this post to the website, it’s about Roger who has been volunteering at the Union Chapel for several years plus he takes part in the poetry and visual arts workshops. As part of the Postcard project he produced an amazing piece, please click her to listen to Roger himself.
Hello everyone, I must tell you all, we put lots of effort making sure that there would be plenty of activities, performances and opportunities for everyone. We really hope you come along to the festival and have a great time; it has been a year of work and preparations to make this happen and finally it’s SHOWTIME!!! I also want to say thanks to all the people who in one way or another contributed to make this possible. But there is one person I have to mention here and that is Julia Farrington for having that vision and believe this event was achievable.
Please click here and check out the festival program, if there is something missing please leave a comment, if it is urgent give me a call +44(0)7795430152.
Loneliness is eating from inside
Even the world around is opaque, airtight, freezedried
Those mouth corners sagging dryly
Desire swallowing lifeforms whole
A look away, a look down, look through
Blank, Absent
Robots with nerve endings,
Puppets under a spell
Drama Queens and Kings.
Ah! Walking among hundreds,
Maybe thousands
Yet no one is here,
Earthquake Isolation has hit again,
Emptiness is reigning
Madness crawling nearer
I crumble like snail [...]
I was not thinking of anything
I was creating a vision of the sounds of the streets
Skateboarders, discos, the far distant, rhythms of Buskers
And the rhythms of the moving London
Potent smells and acrid tastes
Soft touches and lightning movement
A two line poem I had previously composed
Found rhythm and shape
On these beats of London
John Sheehy
Apologies - this one is late - was meant to be posted at easter! ++++++++++++
easter is a sad time but also a happy one, its sad the poety group break up, but joyfull when it return the circle continue with our fearless leader and his trusty asistanant who apear like batman and Robin
Yan a tall man with stricking look, a body that live in. his feature is his voice , a delight to listen to, Jenny his assistance another stricking personalty alway greet you with a smile and offer of a chese and onion sanwich
together they make the dymic duals . the poety group as you can see from the pictures is a fun place to be, evan if you’d never writen a word in your life the dynamic dual YAN AND JEN MAKE IT a unique exprence to enjoy your journey of discovery
Dentro me, profondo in me, lì lei vive.
Lontano dalla realtà? Direi di sì. Ma lì lei è.
La distanza è solo un varco mentale che si dissolve in ombre.
Mi chiedo, ha qualche sentimento? I suoi occhi possono vedere?
Fantasma, mio amato fantasma, continua a nutrire la mia mente malata.
Mantieni vivo il tormento, non divenire mai realtà,
continua ad essere fantasma.
Sì, lei è lì. Sta camminando per la strada, è quello il mio fantasma?
Sì, lei ora è un fantasma, non l’ho mai conosciuta.
No, felice vivo coi miei due fantasmi, sebbene mai si conosceranno.
Città di fantasmi,
Città di illusioni,
portami da qualche altra parte.
Strade che appartengono alla memoria, che svanisce così in fretta.
Rete di sentimenti, traffico di carne umana.
Domani, sì domani, mi sveglierò pensando a te.
Billy
Translated by Carmella
Ella viene,
de nuevo se sienta, espera impaciente
silencio en la sala
esperando una receta no confirmada, por un naturista
sin poder evitar la convulsión de una caricia
aprieto mis dientes, ella alcanza a ver mi mandíbula haciendo fuerza
entonces creo que podemos callar nuevamente… nuevamente continuando con la exposición individual del silencio compartido.
Amén. La palabra ha sido dicha.
De nuevo se [...]
Inside me, deep inside; that’s where she lives
Far from reality? I would say so. But there she is.
The distance is a mental gap that dissolves in shadows.
Does she have any feelings I wonder? Can her eyes see?
Ghost, my beloved ghost, keep feeding my seek mind
Keep the torment alive, never become a reality,
Keep being a ghost.
Yes, there she is; walking down the street, is that my ghost?
Yes, she has become a ghost as well, I never knew her.
No, I am happy to live with those two ghosts,
As far as they never meet.
City of ghosts, city of illusions, take me somewhere else.
Streets that belong to a memory that vanishes so fast.
Network of feelings, traffic of human flesh.
Tomorrow, yes tomorrow I will wake up thinking about you.
Billy
Just a quick blog link to Fedel Nelkul - this is the Budapest Street paper. They have an online gallery of artists and poets work which is well worth a look. click here to go to their website.
Immersed in an ocean of pain and bitterness,
Alone I stand and wait
Each wave impatiently drowning my nostrils
I lose balance, sway and suffocate.
Flowing through my veins, Sadness, Fear and Despair
become tainted by the taste of the seven seas,
The sorrows drowned in pills and whisky are now drowning me.
Immensity of sentiments taking the mind over,
The lines are blurring, the tears, the screams, are they really mine?
Finally, Loving and Loathing become One
No more pretendending, I’ve fucked the Fine Line!
Like a puppet without strings I get thrown about
I try to cry but cannot catch my breath
Each layer of pain fully flickers on my face
How could one man bear such atrocity?
How could ONE soul perceive my identity?
I thought I’d swim it but didn’t realise
How impossibly distant true happiness lies
Nevermind the rest of them happily ignoring
The Death of a Friend, a Flower, a Country!
I thought I’d get it my way
But the current is too strong,
My pact with the devil is fully exposed,
So come… come, please come,
Come and drown with me.
