Saturday, January 13, 2007 Manchester Comrades of Mice and Men Hope all is well and fruity. The joy of love and food shine upon you. Well what a couple 'o' weeks. As you may allready know I'm working on my new book How To Be a Better Gay and as you probably know it is both a blessing and a behemoth. It's taking a lot longer than I thought to finish and is as we might say in Liverpool"doing my swede in"but I'v started so I will damn well finish. Not long ago I gone and got myself involved in writing an even newer book. My old poetry pal Brink has a small publishing house well more bungalow and I said I wouldn't mind doing summat for him. He said yes and before you could say before I started to work on it. It's called Chloe Poems's Lill' book of Manchester and I can honestly say with hand on gingham heart it has been a joy to do. I don't know how tuther writers feel about thier art but I find the process both gruelling and exhausting,I love the finished product but the journey whacks my goolies. Don't want to sound like a tortured artist but it's true from plays to poetry a goolie whacker. But this little tome has just poured out like Pimms on a summer afternoon. The reason is Iv decided thjat it's not about finished work but simply the first idea the instant inspiration struck...no more than the bare arsed bony idea. I wonder if there has been such a book if you know please tell me. The great thing about it is because there none of them finished polished or indeed worked on they all seem to sit together in the same way a book of poetry youve toiled like a Trojan over. It,s been a revelation just the moment of thought and the short time it takes in whict to write them. Im going to sound somewhat Ernie Wise here but I wrote the first ten in one sitting. There rather like sketches an artist might do before painting and I don't know about you but I love artists sketches. I feel no responsibility for them and feel they don't really belong to me. There just thought and therefore could be anybodys. Give it a go it's terribly liberating not to have possesion of something you create. It will be out soon and it really is a jolly little read rather anarchic and cheeky. It feels like your hyperactive yet endearingly lovable younger brother. Yes I feel like Iv been babysitting. Take care and experiment...you had nothing to do with this world before you were born the rest is socialisation. With Love Comrade poems X 3:07 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment Thursday, January 11, 2007 Zing Went The Strings.... Comrades Up'N'Early What alovely day today and I'll tell you for why. I feel like the cat who has not only the cream but the butter and the pudding. I'm a boozer a fine and not upstanding drunk. I love it and in it's sumptious blurry eyed way it suits me. Iv been one of the merry people all over the festering period and epicentered myself quite defnately in it's centrefugal force. Ooh ooh ooh yes I felt the force.{A nod to my liverpool roots.} Iv not had a drink now for a week. If like me your a boozer you'll know how I feel...fanfuckin'tastic. It's a funny old thing Comrades Iv a spring in my trainees and a song in my heart. It can take some of us some time to get over our hangovers and right now Im well and truly over mine. Now it feels like the New Year Iv that irritating woosh up my flu that demands I take on the world and win...not unlike that invincible feeling really good speed can leave you with. It's almost a teenage feeling... I wanna goth or punk up and hang out with rebels and tykes who wanna tell old women to go fuck themselves{I wonder if tykes was quite the right word.} I wanna fuck on bonnets of cars and throw park benches on railway tracks,I feel that good. I wanna do a black mass and ressurect my mother just so I can steal from her purse and piss her off then kill her again because...well I can. Theres nothing I can't do and no end of people alive or dead fictional or real I can do it to. I wanna fight Batman. beat him tie him up and sniff his Bat gusset in front of him pissing on Robin and giving Batgirl a run for her money. I wanna be bad. Then I dont,then I feel really kind like Ingrid Bergman in the Inn Of The Sixth Happiness or Julie Covington in Rock Follies all rock'n;roll and empathy and I don't even know if Ingrid Bergman was in that film...I can smell Rula Lenska,she smells of borst. Im in a field naked with a pack of dogs just feeling the run the rain and the grass spitting dew, were barking cos the speed were running delights...it's that simple. i must apologise to that old women and say something sexy just so she can say something sexy back...chat about the war. I wanna teach her to bark just so she can understand what Im trying to say...Wooof. Howl at the moon cos it's just said something rude. I wanna alley cat my way to your cream and and give you the lap of luxury and make you feel special cos youve just befriended a cat. I wanna cross your path and see your eyes widen wondering if Im good or bad luck, I wanna be good I wanna be bad I wanna be the car chase in your dreams and if we crash who's gonna give a fuck about being good or bad. Meeow. Bottoms up, Comrade Poens. X 5:21 PM - 19 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment Wednesday, January 10, 2007 Leo Sayer Comrades Of All Persuasions And Hues First a big hello and Happy New Year and secondly a huge sigh of relief it's all over, we can stop running like an out of time Benny Hill for scantilly clad rewards that weren't that rewarding in the first place. A new year and a new start apparantly. Iv bought a diary it's a God awfull small affair with the attitude of an overgrown postage stamp but at least it's a diary my first for some time so I must in some way be more serious about this year. This year, what a wieghty thought and conundrum is it going to be worth the countdown of hype. How many more new years are there going to be untill we realise the whole thing is an antideluvian failure soaked in the recursive perpituity of unrequited reliigion? A new year it is, no amount of my word fiddling is going to make it less so. So join in Chloe. Take on boared the eve of spring and gambol as a lamb to the ultimate fruition of summer. Don't allow the grey area of the year sour space, and coulor with hope and fervour the upcoming months. Ahhh the upcoming months a cloak and dagger of damp and hangovers. A misty muddled mizzly guest demanding lungs and old wallpaper in which to rest. I hate the upcoming months January and February like two months of Sundays in a village called Sunday that shuts on Sundays. At least I have the unravelling of Leo Sayer to look forward too. A ball of wool man who actually thinks his celebrity has something to offer the world. I wish I was a giant kitten so I might play with him in my paws unknotting his hair and giving him fleas. Ahh Leo Sayer disintergating in two weeks what i'v worked a lifetime for. Don't think me nihlist Comrades it is fine to sit and redecorate the troubles and winds of winter if you cant be miserable now Heaven Knows when can you. It is right and just to feel it's steel sting and strength. Winter allows us to survive it in the most unforgiving way and that's it's gift. Toughens us up not just for the rest of the year but for the rest of our lives. I love hating the winter and like a cold hearted lathario it loves to be hated. It's a dirty bedfellow but one I would miss if it wasn't there. I will rejoice when the first Snowdrop Crocus and daffodill flourish, and heart engulf the treasure of bluebells. Then kiss the tulip,the comma before the sentence of summer runs into the snug duvet of new Nights Dream memories. Im longing for the birth of new memories. Keep warm and keep secrets. Secrets are the birth of new language and secrets. Enjoy the Winter. Comrade Poems X 5:00 PM - 9 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment Friday, December 29, 2006 OOOOH Comrades Fearless Hope alls well and good. Just a little blog to tide me over the festering season...so hard to find an internet cafe around this time. Everything shutting down because something never happened it boggles my goulash till it cant be boggled no-more. Well I hope yours was jolly. I had a great time at my good mates Liz's such a feast and the bird, well Bloody Nora it was a Goose stuffed with a Mallard stuffed with a Duck stuffed with a Chicken stuffed with a Pheasant. An Olde English spread fit for that olde English serial killer Henry The Eighth,a delight. We did the charades thing,drowned in sloe gin and all was well. All that is exept me. I did my usual thing on Xmas night and went out boooooozing{not a typeo}. I love Xmas night out, only the desperate disperate and angry venture out and it makes for a wonderfull shindig. Really Im not joshing Xmas night out is the reindeers bollocks. The next day however whilst cuddling my hangover and telling it warm and dangerous stories of Olde Liverpool Town I could feel the tell tale shivers of my old enemy the dratted, deadly and everso common cold...I hate that blighter. Laid me out for days she did with her sniffles and feel sorry for me wearyness. {I say she in the gay way meaning him because the common cold is a vicious bitch if ever there was}. So iv swollen glanded and snotted my way through the rest of it up untill now...starting to feel better. I know Iv sounded anti Christmas in past bloggage and as I get older I can feel the Bah Humbug in me so much more. I have to be honest and say I kinda do get it too and not Just in a Bar Handbag kinda way. I think it has to happen, there is a good feeling to things grinding to a halt for that little piece of peace not in a Christian but humanist way. I really enjoyed and I mean really the walk into town on Xmas night,it was safe and I felt most people,not all but most were doing something together. I didnt spend my time thinking of the lonely cos I didnt want to feel alone I can do that for the rest of the year...I thought about those who were together and it was nice. Ooooh get me all Charlene Dickens on myself well I was visited by many spirits and they certainly left thier mark{hic!} In case I cant blog untill the new year{love new year, watch this middle aged Gingham Chick Fly}. I just want to say how much Iv enjoyed MySpace and not just mine but YourSpaces too,what a whoosh. The blogs Of Clayton,Joe Pop,Bruce La Bruce, Gary McMahon and Paul Burston have been an informative adventure and an informal delight to read, it seems to me we do care and care a great deal otherwise why pour like finest wine our very core beliefs and souls making anger exquisite as Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly inBreakfast At Tiffanys an unusual analogy I know but strangley approprate methinks. The voices words and music Of Mary{your voice is a revelation} Cigarettes,the brilliant Veba, the elswhere stunning dirty and etherial Tracey Elizebeth the grounedlovedrenched blueshumanpitchedperfectsoul of Jennifer John. Logan 5s heartfelt electronica and Ernesto Tomasinis determined operatic flurrys. There have been so many connections made as to turn my socialist soul supernova. So lets carry on telling tales out of and about school,singing our Christmas stockings off and poeting our world weary yet passionate way through the new year. I truly have appreciated the links forged in this cyber chain of ours. HAVE A GREAT NEW YEAR! Comrade Poems X 1:29 PM - 5 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment Wednesday, December 20, 2006 Casual Sex Comrades Shaggers The winters claws are firmly embedded in the psyce of the year. I love the winter love all the seasons but I do fear the drudge of January onwards. I shall leap and gambol as a spring lamb on ketamine when the first shoots of summer appear. Im having strange thoughts and odd undefinable feelings. I consider myself terminally single and fear the horror and dependancy of commitment not being shallow or owt just that relationships are not my whoosh. Or at least I thought. Last night I was painting the town a Christmas shade of puce and found myself in the Company bar a gay haunt thats all leather, bears and antique collectors. I was having a fine time with my odd selection of new transient and thoroughly enjoyable friends. As the night drew on and I became like everybody else in the club more attrractive,booze so much cheaper than a face lift. My ten to two eyes landed on rather a nice chap his leather jacket more punk than clone. He greeted my gaze with the unmistakable look of you will do...and do I jolly well did. We went back to mine and a good sesh was had by all quite passionate and involved allmost like we were meant for eachother. Now the next day I usually cant wait for people to leave as the hangover doesnt compliment the morning. To my astonishment Comrades hangover and all I didnt want him to leave that hasnt happened for many years I can tell you. Whats up with me? I know with all my heart I dont want a boyfriend but I was quite saddened when the chap whos name I cant remember left. How odd I can only put it down to midwinter blues. I firmly believe a boyfriends for Christmas not for life but I think I might even have wanted to see my casual lover again. I didnt say that to him just in case he might ,but all the same I must be mellowing in my middle age. Iv been thinking about partners all day today what it all means and why they might be a good thing to have especially in the winter months. Im not anti relationships and hope your all having a nice one if you have one...its just that all mine have kind of ended badly. Im not blaming anybody else but myself for that as I can be a cocky big headed bleeder sometimes and therefor difficult to have around. It was quite a melonchloy moment though. Oh dear I seem to have comeover all confessional oh well never mind. I shall meander on in my my old maid stylee and catch up with you soon. Enjoy yourselves and your lovers Comrade Poems X 4:57 PM - 11 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment Friday, December 15, 2006 Saint Whore Comrades Empaths I am deeply saddened by the murders of those five sex workers in and around Ipswich. We really have to grow up as a society when it comes to prostitution. If it's the oldest profession then surley we should start to respect it as such. It's been with us for centuries and we still deny it it's worth. Hundreds of prositutes have been killed and injured over the past ten years often young women with drug problems. Our collective denail of these people is sickening. Women with huge life problems are often forced onto the streets problems forged by povertry and drugs. We have to look at how thier drug problems could be treated free heroin is much cheaper than murder inquiry on this scale. We have to look at getting them away from the pimps and dealers who often have an emotional and fiscal stangle hold over them. legalise and make thier lives easier. They work damn hard I'd like to see those who condemn them saying yes to rape ten times a night and it is rape. Punters are under no illusion why most of these women need the money. they are forged from sexually repressed religion fucked societies and those societies then regect and criminalise them it is one of the many reasons I describe society as evil. The gutter press are as Victorian in thier reports as they ever were...I could quite happily shoot the tabloids if it had one through the head. I have been somewhat heartened by the TV coverage of it though it seems as if there is a genuine empathy and sympathy surrounding these women maybe society isnt so evil after all. Perhaps it's because they are so young it's starting to highlight just how severe the problem is perhaps it's because they are women from and with families they seem more human than the hideous misrepresentaions were often forcefed of them. They are beutiful women we react more as a society when whoever it is has been murdered are beutiful ugly prostitutes don't get a look in...perhaps society is still evil. My heart goes out to the families and friends of these women and the women who are still working the streets. Iv known many prostitutes Iv been one and they are on the whole fine and wonderful people. Im often described as romantisising prostitutes well perhaps I do and maybe it's the only romance many of them get. Sex workers have my total respect they live dangerous and unsung lives and they remain unsung because so many of us refuse to join in the chorus. Look after yourselves girls. Comrade Poems X 2:19 PM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment Monday, December 11, 2006 Am I Mad? Comrades Bonkers I often walk the streets of Manchester rehearsing my poetry. I obviously look like Im talking to myself sometimes very passionately and animated vocal and determined. I as you can imagine get some wierd looks from passersby who obviously think Im somewhat "off it" to use street venacular. It doesnt bother me at all that anyone might think me in someway mad quite like it in fact, I have theories about madness anyway which involve the whole human race and the phrase society is evil. I walk a great deal it helps me relax, think and is perfect for going over ones poems and keeping in some small way fit although I would now have to walk around the world twice a day to achieve the svelte like concubine I used to be. The interseting thing Comrades is when striding around the city centre and its strange uninviting orbitals is that I come across many people, some of whom Iv formed an odd and quirky relationship with. We dont talk to eacother we just nod in recognition when we pass by. There are three people in particular I see quite a lot they too often are talking to themselves passionately and animated. Now Im wondering if they like me are performance poets or actors going over thier lines. Although we dont look like eachother we are Comrades in how animated we are when talking to ourselves. If I didnt do what I do I might think them slightly off kilter but because I do do what I do I cant. Its a lovely position to be in, because of our connection and the fact we dont speak to eachother only ouselves, we dont know if any one of us is so called mad...it's a no mads land if you like. Iv just seen the three of them today all independant of eachother and we were all doing what we do talking to ourselves and nodding hello. I sometimes think I would like to get to know them and chat but weve built up such an unusual relationship I think it would spoil it,I lke to think they think that too. It got me pondering about relatioships what they mean and who there for. We definately are in a relationship that has been going on now for about three years and we dont know eachothers names...I really like that. A relationship that is biult on an odd kinda trust about bounderies and recognition, I have a feeling were not going to hurt eachother or let eachother down. Its nice and I think they know something about me even my closest friends and family dont. Were real troupers when it comes to trudging through the streets and are out in all weathers dishevilled determined and looking like were all going somewhwere...I wonder if we are. Take care and walk well... Comrade poems X 2:59 PM - 14 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment Friday, December 08, 2006 Loose Comrades Befuddled At a loose end today. Feel down in the dumps. Might be the weather or the looming monster of Christmas. I used to love Christmas but that exitable teenage blush has gone...now Christmas has me heaving with disgust. Its not just it's rampant comercialism in fact believe it or not I can get a wierd kick out of that what I call the lemmings on crack moment.No its the we must enjoy ourselves or die vibe that has me knocked sidewards. I dont get why now is a better time than any other time to enjoy yourelf...its cold wet and just plain scary. City centres are starting to darken with the self destructive shadow of the office party. They rather terrify me so many people dark eyed drunk and directionless. It seems now is the time not to be jolly but to be obnoxious rude and obviously self centered. If people actually looked like they were enjoying themseves that they were sharing a like minded festive woosh then Id get it but quite frankly they look like they want to kill eachother. I can tell its starting because the taxi rank becomes not a place of safety but where you just might get your throat cut...people tend to get a tad more serial killer this time of year. The puddles of sick like lumpy islands of bile and rejection stepping stones to a slip over downfall. Arguing couples and lob sided men shrieking and brawling ,harpies and banshees without love and tuneless. The palpable agression punches you without the aid of a fist. its just there laying you out like smog or the common cold. Tinsel and fairy lights twinkle and glitter stubornly like E'd up hyperactive children constant and irritating, reminding you like a nagging headache that it's not over yet. Yes the festive season is here a traffic jam of plum puddled messes a converging nervous breakdown a souless sea of broken bones broken promises and unfullfilled dreams. Yo ho no! Comrade Poems X 3:57 PM - 10 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment Thursday, December 07, 2006 Straight Up Comrades Heteros Hope your winter is not to bad yet and that your puddings always come up trumps. Im more hungover than I'v ever been after having a jolly night out with my sisters in darkness,we imbibed drank and danced our way into the night and beyond...I can still tear up that dancefloor. Luckily I dont have children for I would be that embarrising camp dad on the pull and on my knees,nuff said. Before the night turned into a series of electric blurs and propositions I had been having a facinating discussion with a lovely straight couple. We were chatting about Canal Street and how it has changed over the years and changed it has. Im not being anti change as that is unintelligent and short sighted but and heres the rub I dont think it's changed for the better. I dont think having simply more bars has helped the area at all nor did the people I was talking with. Now heres the odd but beautiful bit The straight couple I was talking to disliked how straight the gay scene in Manchester has become. They longed for the old days when they would go out with thier friends and party without the incubance of the hen night monsters who have all but invaded the area. I really started to empathise with them because it was thier gay scene too. Iv always loved the clandestine relationship some straight folks have had with the gay scene. In the old days before the heterosexualisation of homosexuality the straight contingent were people who really wanted to be there because they knew no one partied like the gays it was subversive and the right side of dangerous they were in for a no hloes barred good time. The couple I was talking to were doing just that almost mourning the loss of it. Canal Street was much more creative than it is now its dogged and bogged down by bars that activly seek the hen parties often making it the wrong side of dangerous. Those straights and thier boyfriends can often be rowdy and homophobic and have no or litlle respect for the gays and lesbians the area is designed for my friends were saying they give straights a bad name. So I would like to dedicate this blog to all the straight folk who have always supported the gay scene and its people. The straight folk who were there long before it was trendy or in vouge. The straight people whove seen the gay scene they loved turn into a rowdy circus of football chants and cellulite strewn arses. I really get why my two new pals were saddened and we all agreed it was the end of an era and area. So look after yourselves my straight Comrades and who knows a new era might dawn. Comrade Poems X 5:20 PM - 2 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment Tuesday, December 05, 2006 London Is Paranoid Comrades southeners The last time London Is Paranoid graced Myspace I got a few letters of complaint and thats absolutely fine not every body has to like it. I wrote a blog to accompany the track just to clarify what it is about but that was a lot of blogs ago so heres a new one. I love London Comrades it is a great city with fantastic people this piece reflects the horror of big buisness and celebrity culture and with London being the biggest of our cities the paranoia involved with agressive competition and showbuisness is just far more concentrated there. Hull Is Paranoid just doesnt carry the gravitas that London does although Im sure in its own downsised way Hull is paranoid too. So listen with care Comrades. Comrade Poems X 2:20 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment