Friday, 20 May 2011

The humble question mark

Bowing pleasantly, it never means to be obsequious,

but words will flaunt themselves with flair and fashion,

spelling out new forms of confusion

for the humble question mark.


Impartial, but never as important as a line of lovely letters,

deftly jiggled or dashingly scrawled across the scroll

(but that was an age before)

or the screen

(times new roman has never looked so neat)

it’s always the end of the line for the humble question mark.


Silent presence,

crook of the bold and the quizzical,

the querulous and the combative,

the angry and the anxious,

the aged and the young, but not the loving.

The lovers never trouble the humble question mark.


Speech was a gift that grew without roots

and floated on damp breath to warm ears and fertile minds,

but tied to the page it needs sculpting and teasing,

guiding and preening, pacing and breathing

to find true feeling. Is this what gives meaning

to the humble question mark?


I’m everywhere,

can’t you hear me?

can’t you see me?

can’t you feel me?

cried the humble question mark.


Just ask and I’ll be there.

New look, new work.

A foray into energy journalism has sprouted shoots,

the news instinct (squirming, worming, burrowing)

is growing...

Thus, it begins.

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Up to date: March!

To get us nicely up to date... March!

Season's Greetings at the National. Yes, Christmas is long gone. No, it didn't feel out of Season. Set: a cross-section of a family home. Script: a cross-section of holiday misery. Snorts a plenty.

Electro-Late night, Museum of London. A walking, talking android. My wildest BSG dreams answered. Almost. (Plus gorged on the historical displays.)

Book club at The Chocolate Teapot, Esher. Inaugural session, on The Hare with Amber Eyes. Takes me back to studenthood. With the added bonus of yummy scones.

Recap: February!


Black Swan at Odeon. Darren Aronofsky's dark, modern fairytale. Ballet with bite.

Band of Horses at Brixton Academy. Beautiful, but soft (and best) opening song ruined by a heckle. Shame.

Recorded "Joan's Hymn" poem for the Valentine's Day Sunday Joint on East Leeds FM, Leeds. Ace. Listen Again at

Bang Said The Gun at The Roebuck, Angel. Stand-up poetry with a speedy, competitive open mic sesh. Mmm.

West Ham SMASHING Liverpool 3-1. Theatre doesn't get much better than that.

 Awards Concert 2011. I snapped Sheridan Smith, Simon Callow, Lee Mead and a handful of other thespy types. For more of my shots for WOS see pics 1-15 here.

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee at the Donmar. Chirpy, damned funny musical. Clever audience involvement had me howling.


Let's kickstart March twenty eleven (and twenty eleven itself) on Through The Ivy, a quick photographic/audio/written recap of Jan, Feb and March.


British Sea Power at New Slang, Kingston upon Thames. What a treat.

Improvathon at Hoxton Hall. Mammoth. Exhausting. Probably better than sex.

A Flea In Her Ear at the Old Vic. Fast-paced farce by Feydeau. Hilarious.

Cindy Sherman Exhibition, Spruth Magers. London. Bold, chameleonic character photography.

Rolf Harris' A Midsummer Night's Dream-themed exhibition. Feat. Lily Cole as Titania.