russell j turner – Poet on page and stage. Creator of She Grrrowls. Facilitator. Writer.

Sex Haikus and Other News

Coming up is a showcase of the work I’ve been doing with a group of writers at Rich Mix in Shoreditch. I’m determined to learn my lines for it today as we have a meeting coming up when I’m back in London. Fellow writer Ben Jacobs (also a Podium Poet) posted a series of poems by Benedict Smith on Facebook: A Haiku for Every Girl I’ve Slept With. I thought it was a great series of well-executed poems and would love to see the whole series as an illustrated chapbook. Amongst the poems was this one:

8. Tried your fantasy

And pretended to rape you.

It felt a bit forced.

Initially, I felt uncomfortable with the comic intent of the last line: an awkward double entendre. I felt that it undermined real rape by making a joke of it. My opinion on a ‘rape fantasy’ is that it is nonsensical – the very act of rape is something unwanted. Therefore ‘rape fantasy’ is an oxymoron. I thought about a better way to address this issue, assuming that these poems are based on real-life experiences. I came up with this:

A girl says ‘rape me’.

She doesn’t know the meaning.

Singing Nirvana.

However, then I thought that actually, my version is far too obvious. How can I say that this is a better version just because the point is clearer? Is it too didactic? Perhaps, Smith’s poem is actually more successful because of its subtleties. Perhaps his humour points out the ridiculousness of such a request from a girl. It got me thinking about the meaning of the poem, which is surely a sign of success. I’d be interested to know what readers think of this.

Another couple of things in the pipeline for September include the She Grrrowls launch party at The Gallery Cafe on Wednesday 11th. There are so many talented women out there that we want to feature at future events, so we really hope it takes off! On Saturday 14th I’ll be leading an all-day workshop on the theme of ‘Loss’ at Red Door Studios. It ties into the next issue of Poetry&Paint, so come along to the workshop and get the chance to have your work in the September/October issue of Poetry&Paint.

I’ll also be getting down to as many open mic nights as possible and hopefully get some gigs, preferably paid! I’m excited about the next year (working at a school, I still work in academic years!) I’ll be super busy as I’m also wanting to take up the ukulele! Wish me luck!

I’ve been staying in Norwich the last week or so and don’t want to come back! I’m going home tomorrow and it’s all gone so quickly. I’ve had a great time and even managed to do an open mic over my time here (as a city so famous for literature, there’s surprisingly few events compared with London). I went to the launch for the Lighthouse anthology, which I’ve now submitted some poems to for the next issue! I got a chance to catch up with poets Chris Ogden and Russell J Turner. Chris told me about this project to do with made-up words, so I wrote a poem on the word ‘Elagon’ – have a go yourself!
JulyAugust 061

I’ve done a bit of work most days I’ve been in Norwich, but I’ve also managed to have a bit of fun and relaxation. One of my favourite days was the trip to Cromer with my boyfriend and his family at a family friend’s caravan. I had seen the forecast of showers so I didn’t expect we would be able to go. The others went by car whilst my boyfriend and I rushed to the station to make the train to Cromer. The sun was shining through the clouds and I thought I’d dip a toe in the sea. I ended up walking further in and we swam all afternoon. It felt amazing. After we dried off, we had some chips and headed to the fun fair. I’ve also done a bit of shopping, had some drinks at the Rumsey Wells, got an Indian takeaway, saw my boyfriend’s grandparents and tonight we’re having a nice romantic meal.

Now it’s goodbye Norwich and hello London. I’ve got a performance at Red Door Studios (also where the workshop on Loss is) on 8th August, a trip to visit my friend Hannah in York, then I’m back to the home of Alan Partridge the following week. Maybe another trip to the beach, if I’m lucky.

Frightened Robot Gun

Inspiration, Music, Poetry Gigs

Time is short and I have wasted a lot of the day after celebrating a friend’s birthday until the early hours. I’m going swimming soon but I’m already ready for bed. It’s been eventful so without further ado, I’ll let you know what’s been going on.

Firtsly, I went to see Frightened Rabbit back in September. Aside from annoying crowd members and post-work tiredness, it was a great gig. They didn’t play all the songs I would have liked but ‘Poke’ was amazing to see live and the highlight of the gig.

The week after I took a surreal trip to Norwich after work to perform at the launch of internet poetry – Bad Robot, an event organised by Catherine Woodward. Ross Sutherland was performing but sadly I didn’t get to speak to him. I spoke to Russell J Turner who was the surprise guest of the evening and had me itching to do his Googleseed poems. James Sykes was also reading and having not seen him before, I was really impressed, with his deadpan humour, he reminded me a bit of Tao Lin’s poetry. Thom James was seen, rather appropriately, in digital form. Unfortunately, not quite a hologram, but a really cool video flickering poetry across a screen.

I stayed in a hotel, *cough* B&B *cough*, nearby the station as I had to get up at like 5.30am or something ridiculous. They didn’t even have any tea:

Skip ahead to the following week and I finally went to Bang Said the Gun. It was all very exciting, entering the room to the likes of Billy Bragg pumping out of the speakers, monochrome scribbles of the event name all over the walls, and an animation reel for the stage backdrop. Not to mention the cool shakers used for applause. Although, after a day at work, shaking it to more than one song as a build up to the start was a bit like giving a never-ending hand-job. Some white stuff came out and got on my bag. But it has to be said, these guys know what they’re doing and put on a cracking poetry (or anti-poetry) night.

Also, Peter Hayhoe kind of remembered my surname, and having not officially met, this made me happy. He also performed a set himself, of which I particularly enjoyed a collaboration with a female guitarist about pulling girls in 1998, dressing up in the actual shirt of his heyday. Dan Cockrill was a great host, and I particularly like the way he step-touched to the music in between acts. Martin Galton also read some funny poems from a book of hate, along with a heart-warming poem of love about his son.

I didn’t get on the open mic as this event is so popular, the next space wasn’t until 25th October, so I’ll be back then. To be honest, I enjoyed the event so much, I would happily be there every week if I could. One of the main reasons for this was the performance from resident poet, Maria Ferguson (and she references Sarah Kane in this video!). She delivered a narrative poem, that really got me gripped and so I’d probably have to say she was my favourite of the evening.Though it’s hard picking favourites with such an array of talent, and diverse talent at that.

The Roundhouse Slam Champions performed and although I can’t remember their names, I wish I could because they were amazing. In turn, I felt wholly inadequate and old. One guy, who described himself as looking a bit like Sideshow Bob, gave a performance that mixed the comedic and the tragic, with some very poignant lines. Another guy gave a highly performative piece that incorporated subtle physical movements and voice control, giving the effect of cut-up text.

The female of the group had me welling up with her poetry about mental illness, along with her sweet, soft voice, she came across as an emblem of strength and fragility. I hope I didn’t miss anyone from the group as I didn’t make any notes on the night!

The Ruby Kid was the last before the open mic (where I had to dash off). Back in the day he had complimented my poetry over MySpace, and I even performed alongside him at Speech Motion. I knew I would enjoy his set, but he was even better than I remembered. My favourite was ‘205 Panorama’ which had some really clicky lines – you know what I mean – lines that give you goosebumps and make your ears prick up. Sadly, I can’t find this one online so you’re going to have to see him live. It looks like he’s going to be running a night called ‘Howl’ in Shoreditch so I’ll have to check that out in the future.

The event also had some rather desultory activities such as throwing a balloon across the room to win a drink, and having a massive ‘bang’ hat. I wish I lived in Zone 2 and was like a full-time poet and writer, then I would be able to go to Bang every time.

In other news, my poem The Movement of Hands will be published in Issue 9 of Artemis Poetry Magazine. I’ve been sending out lots of submissions and I said to myself that I would be happy if even just one was accepted so I am very pleased! I’ve also got an exciting project in the pipeline for Novemeber 21st, with Apples & Snakes. Keep the date in your diary!

xxx

The Party’s Over

Other

551230_10151746220040383_594840382_24357891_1935348757_n — Singing and miming along to I’m Just a Girl by No Doubt. I’ve had it up to here [with the patriarchy] ladies.

100_2836 — “You are not the victim of your life, you are the creator of your life” – wise words on the cubicle door at The Mill

A picture paints 1000 words today. For my birthday weekend I had a family BBQ, followed by friends and fajitas. We went to Bacchus in Kingston after a few drinks at The Mill. Matt and I got home around 3.30am. I went hungover for an eye appointment and was rewarded with a roast dinner. On my actual birthday I opened present and cards, and the sunshine stopped so Matt and I went bowling. We won one game each and played arcade games, pool and ate candyfloss.

He went back to Norwich for his job seekers appointment (but he has a job[s] now – yay!) I had a Chinese take-away with my parents and watched Towie, 56 Up and Desperate Housewives. I joined Matt in Norwich the next day.

We forego-ed a party sadly, but watched Eagle Vs. Shark. We saw Scroobius Pip at the Dragon Hall in Norwich, with great support including one of my favourite poets, Russell J Turner. I was working for Shake the Dust in Cambridge on Thursday and Friday. After the second workshop I dashed off, Cornish pasty in hand, to see the Mystery Jets in Brixton, with support from Theme Park and Slow Club.

Saturday night I went to my friend’s house, got more pressies and watched Two Lovers, stayed up until 3am and then was back at Sainsbury’s on Sunday, where I sprained my wrist.

xxx

Don’t Cart-wheel on Broken Glass

Poetry Gigs

Last Thursday night LitSoc put on an event with CWS… though actually I think only one of our collaborators was there. Anyway, this is possibly the last event we’re going to put on, but I’m hoping to put on another one. I really want to pay the performers but I don’t think we have enough money… maybe on the next!

Anyway, we had to host as a committee (apart from Helen because she doesn’t like public speaking) because our host pulled out last-minute… very unprofessional haha. We started off with a CWS open mic but the only member that came had to go away for something and so there wasn’t really any of their input but whatever. I was the “sacrificial poet” first in the open mic and we had a decent number of people get up to read.

The night consisted of Catherine Woodward, followed by Grenouilles, and I was meant to go on then but I cut my set out so the night would run more smoothly (hence why I did the open mic instead). Then Greta Healy and Hannah Walker gave us some poetry, and Robyn Comfort began with poetry and moved onto music.

Ending the night was Russell J Turner, Ashley Johnston, and Tim Clare. I was really happy with how the evening went down, but I think I’m getting a bit too comfortable in my university bubble because I had rather too much wine to drink. I stupidly left mid-way through Tim Clare’s set because a couple of friends were going out and apparently it was a “now or never” situation. I feel really stupid and guilty for leaving and really regret it. It’s something I’d be totally against when sober and if Captain of the Rant saw me that night, he’d be saying “now who’s rude? now who’s the dickhead?! hmmm?!”

I guess I got what I deserved. I ended up at “Nowhere” and somehow was dancing on my own, wondering where one of the people I came with had gone but figuring I may as well just enjoy myself until we were reunited. I had an urge at the beginning of the night to do a cart-wheel but we were busy setting up so I didn’t. You better believe repressed urges will come out. I decided to use an empty space to do a cart-wheel. Now, this is something I would do sober as well, and have memories of doing it at kid’s birthday parties in my childhood, so I don’t know if I can entirely blame the alcohol for… maybe I can blame the club, or the dark lighting.

Anyway, I did the cart-wheel and I did it on a load of broken glass. My hand got cut first and so I fell onto the floor and hurt my knee. I was really embarrassed and rushed to the bar where I told them my hand really hurt and that I “thought” it was bleeding. I looked down and there was blood going everywhere (including my lovely dress… it’s okay guys, it came out in the wash, thank god! It’s vintage you see). I was taken to the back room and they got the first aid kit out and bandaged me up, but the guy said that if I cared what my knee looked like I needed to go to A&E. I remember being quite casual about it because I didn’t think that I needed more than what he’d done, and I didn’t really want to go but him saying that obviously freaked me out… I didn’t really want a deformed knee.

So… memory blank… somehow I got there. Taxi I guess. I waited for 3 hours and had nothing to do. I had left my poetry and my iPod at the LitSoc event. I wasted loads of texts and even tried calling my dad, and a friend I’d planned to call at the weekend. It was past 2am so I didn’t get through. I bought some crisps and a cookie from a machine. I felt so depressed and lonely and just sat there for hours until I got so frustrated with everyone being seen apart from me that I started crying. Not noticeably, just silently to myself. I just wanted my parents there but they are in London and I am in Norwich.

Eventually I was seen and it was revealed it was a complete waste of time. I didn’t even need stitches. They just washed my hand (which had been previously glued) and then put these strips on my knee (which my dad said were butterfly stitches, but still… not proper stitches). I got an expensive taxi home for £8 and when I arrived at mine at like 5am, the guy wouldn’t stop talking about how Shakespeare doesn’t exist. I mean, bless him, but at 5am I just wanted to go to sleep before attempting at my busy day whilst being all tired and hungover.

It’s my housemate, Kristy’s birthday today so we’ve just made her fairy cakes and put them on this amazing cake stand we got her from Notty Green. I’ve been listening to Funeral for a Friend’s new album Welcome Home Armageddon and it’s great! More like the old stuff, wooo! It’s been sunny and I’ve been wearing pink jeans and been in a good mood considering my preoccupation with a guy that doesn’t feel the same as me and general loneliness that creeps over me sometimes. And random waves of panic about my life in general. Anyway, before I start getting too personal and bitching about other stuff that’s annoying me, I’ll end.

xxx

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