Town to Port Festival, Hythe Colchester 25th May 2013

Like many Colcestrians, I have many preconceived ideas about the Hythe area of town.  Despite ongoing attempts, by the council, to regenerate the area, viewing it from my trips past and through the new developments, I always feel that it looks unfinished; an imperfect juxtaposition of rusty, crusty relics of industrial times gone by and generic 'little boxes on the hillside' appartment blocks.  I hadn't been down to the quayside since before the regeneration started. 

On Saturday, I popped along to the Town to Port Festival.  I had been asked by Tess Gardener of SKOPT (Some Kind of Poetry Thing) and Colchester Poetry, to perform a ten minute poetry set as part of her poetry coffee morning, in the spoken word area.  This gave me a reason to make my way back into the place where I grew up as a small child.

As I walked along the Quayside, I felt a mixed bag of emotions.  Amid the strange contrast of decaying old fragments of industrial heritage, torn down to make way for the new but not quite consigned to history yet, I observed the interesting scenery of my childhood in the very process of being replaced by that which is so insipidly generic about all new riverside developments.  Whilst the new builds and modern walkways around the area look pleasant enough, I can't help but mourn the final death knell of Colchester's industrial past.  The old buildings were eyesores, no argument there, but they represented something much more than the crumbling rubble that they were.  An example, which is personal to me would be the Coldock building, with its smashed windows, stained concrete and faded flaking paint was the "naughty boys' home", where, according to my mum and dad, who wanted to encourage us to behave, children who were disobedient were sent to have their toes nibbled by rats, while spiders with legs like your index finger would stare menacing at you.  I never believed the stories but I remember them fondly.  That building is no more.  I can't imagine its replacement will inspire such storytelling. 

While my nostalgia about this little loved part of town might sound negative, I must say that, despite the tinge of sadness I felt, the enthusiasm and sense of fun behind the festival itself was wonderful.  From the live music up by the bridge, along the row of stalls selling truly diverse examples of original work by local artists, to the house boats, with music playing and people just enjoying the sunshine and cultural fare on offer, it was a truly pleasant experience.  

The spoken word area showed off the worsmithing skills of a great number of talented local poets, musicians and storytellers.  

For my own part, I shared five of my poems - 'Grecian Liar', 'My Past Existence', 'Wilfred Owen', 'Kenneth George Bell' and 'A Soldier's Return'.  (Click on the links to see the poems in previous posts) I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.  Tess Gardener did a great job of creating a relaxed and friendly environment, in which we were all able to share our ideas and scribblings.  I didn't get to see everyone perform but every performance I saw was interesting, entertaining and thought provoking.  I took my family along and I know they enjoyed it too.  I'm looking forward to the next meeting of SKOPT and Colchester Poetry, to listen to some more great poetry.  

I love how through organisations such as 15 Queen Street, First Site and Slack Space, the creative people of the Colchester area are finally being brought together and encouraged to collaborate, to add to the rich cultural tapestry of our town. 

As for the Hythe, I remain uncertain about the effect the regeneration of the area will have in the longer term.  What the festival provided was an opportunity to experience the potential the area has to offer.  The extent to which that potential will be fulfilled is in the hands of the Council.  Let's hope they manage to create something, which maintains something of the original spirit of the place.

Colchester Poetry December Sunday Matinee

Today, I attended and performed at the Colchester Poetry Sunday Matinee performance at FirstSite, Colchester.

There were eight performances in total.

Peter Turner performed three beautiful and amusing songs about life, prehistory and Guantanamo Bay of all things. 

Jonathan King delivered two very touching poems of friendship and absence, ending on a wonderful comedy limerick, which made me chuckle.

Martin Reed told a selection of amusing short stories and fables.

The screening of "Never a Cross Word" directed by David Fox was an interesting homage to the silent movies of the 1920s with a bit of slapstick thrown in.
 
Ashleagh Hat's two poems were interesting critiques of the modern world.

Alex Yeandle sang some thought provoking songs, including a wonderfully touching song of unrequited love.

The matinee closed with Tess Gardener performing three of her poems, which were powerful and expressive as always.


For my own part, I read an abridged version of  'The Mysterious Incident of the Glass Eye' - a short story I wrote earlier this year, following a writing exercise at the Colchester WriteNight meeting.  It tells the humorous tale of two police officers investigating a gruesome and mysterious death. 

To read the story on an earlier post, click on the link below.

The Mysterious Incident of the Glass Eye by Annie Bell

The Colchester Poetry Sunday Matinee takes place around the last Sunday of every month, from 2-4pm at FirstSite Colchester or 15 Queen Street.

Check for dates on the Colchester Poetry Facebook group HERE.

Colchester Poetry Open Mic Night - December 2012

On Saturday 15th December, Colchester Poetry hosted the December Open Mic Night at SlackSpace Colchester.

From the outset it looked destined to be filled with Christmas spirit.  There were mince pies and drinkies galore.  Not only that, within ten minutes of it all kicking off, it became clear that the whole affair would be compered by none other than Santa Claus himself. 

There was a fantastic range of poetry, stories and comedy from the assembled wordsmiths and the evening was very entertaining, even if I did feel like I had wandered through my television set into the middle of a Vic and Bob sketch by the end!  

If you like poetry, you should definitely come along to a Colchester Poetry event.  The next one is the Sunday Matinee on Sunday 30th December 2012 at FirstSite Colchester.

For my own part, I performed six of my poems - 

Elusive Sleep

Infirm

Grecian Liar

My Past Existence

Wilfred Owen
The Ballad of the Chris Hoy Incident

Here is one of them, which was written after my Great Uncle became rather poorly.

Infirm 

by Annie Bell

Life is so simple, when you are young.

There are no aggravations,

No supplications, applications,

No real ramifications in life,

Which can't be fixed with a plaster and a kiss.

An injury to the leg? A plaster and a kiss.

A grazed elbow? A plaster and a kiss.

A bully? A plaster and a kiss.

The longer life progresses, 

The more we are alone;

Expected to cope for ourselves.

Knowledge and truth prevent white lying comfort.

Monsters and imaginary fears in the dark

Remain in the dark,

Remain real and ever present.

There is no kiss and no plaster.

The monsters remain there.

After us.

Terrifying us.

Consuming us.

Older still and even more alone,

Or are we just lonely?

A single glass of dessert wine

In a pool of its own sugary gloop

Leaves a sticky ring on the coffee table.

Why is the Shiraz always gone?

Why are we always wrong?

Where is that comforting song?

At our oldest ... we are utterly alone.

We crave attention and affection

Yet give loved ones deflections.

We crave visitors - desire them

Yet we push them away.

Dismissed as cantankerous old buggers,

Our inner strength concealed by frail bodies.

Our life long worth in question.

No kiss;

No plaster

Can fix that.  

 © Annie Bell 2012

Colchester Poetry December Meeting

On Tuesday night, this week, I attended December's meeting of Colchester Poetry.

It was a fantastic evening, with Baden Prince Junior providing a workshop on performance, which was both entertaining and informative.  I, personally, gained a lot from the workshop, learning how to handle performance anxiety amongst other things.

In the second half of the meeting, everyone read out poems they had prepared on the themes of 'Medusa' and 'Blank'.  As always, it was thoroughly enjoyable and I enjoyed the poems I heard.

I wrote a poem for the occasion, based on the themes, which I have chosen to share below.

Colchester Poetry meets on the second Tuesday of the month at 15 Queen Street.  

Grecian Liar

by Annie Bell

Shall I compare thee to the great Medusa?

Thou art more dangerous and more toxic

Than she could ever be.

Thy head of vicious snakes invisible

Might terrify me to my very soul

But no-one else can see them;

Thou keepest them concealed

Beneath thy veil of pure deceit

And all remain deceived.

But not me.

Thou art my own personal Medusa.

One look at you and my mind goes blank

As my body turns to stone.

Thou art my own personal Medusa.

Thou spakest of me with venomous tongues

That hissed and spat acidic filth.

Thou art my own personal Medusa.

A vile, vicious, cruel and nasty abuser.

Medusa;

A liar, a cheat, a bloody confuser.

Now I have exposed thee, come not near me,

For from today, I will never more fear thee,

For I'll cut off thy snake heads 

With a sword of wisdom; of truth.

So never darken my door again

Or I'll write thee a vicious end with my pen. 

© Annie Bell 2012

Colchester Poetry Meeting - October 2012

On Tuesday, I went to the meeting of Colchester Poetry at 15 Queen Street.

It was a fun packed evening, filled with all sorts of poetry.  Much of the poetry was based around the three themes, which were selected last month: Forbidden Love, Cave and Silver.  Many of the poems shared were quite humorous, indeed, having missed last month's meeting, I shared my notorious poem 'The Ballad of the Chris Hoy Incident', which was inspired by last month's themes of Chris Hoy, Pornography and Misunderstanding.

It never ceases to amaze me with the themes we work on both for Colchester Poetry and SKOPT.  Everyone came up with a different take on the words.  Amongst those presented tonight were biblical themes, the Chilean Miners, vampires, inappropriate romance, heartbreak and many more.  People also shared poems on a selection of other themes.  I felt quite inspired afterwards.

I managed to present a poem which includes all three.  It is below.

 

Deadly Love 

by Annie Bell

They met in a dingy tavern

In June of eighteen sixty five.

He caught her eye across the room.

He made her feel alive.

She was not supposed to be there.

Her father would be far from glad.

If he knew she was looking at

A man, he'd go quite mad.

Approaching her, he slipped his hand

Around her fine and slender waist.

He whispered in her naïve ear,

“Please, let me have a taste.”

Under his dark spell, she nodded;

Consumed by grim desire, she moaned.

He kissed her dainty, china neck.

Ecstatically, she groaned.

Obsessed, ensnared, she loved him so.

With just one fateful kiss.

She promised she would go with him,

Not knowing what she'd miss.

The next night, they were due to meet.

Her father, horrified and mad,

Forbade their love and broke her heart.

She was completely sad.

One day, out walking in the street,

She found a strange old man, who knew

Him well, who'd reunite them by

The light of the full moon.

She crossed his palm with silver coins.

He led her to a hidden cave.

He promised she would see her love

If she could just be brave.

The cave was cold, dank and dreary,

As willingly, she stepped inside.

When she beheld what lay within,

Her mouth hung open wide.

There, lay his body, on the ground,

Pale, strong, quite naked and asleep.

Seating herself, right beside him,

'Twas their secret to keep.

She'd been desperate just to know him

To understand his soul inside;

So silent and mysterious,

So strange and keen to hide.

And now, she saw the grisly truth,

No single syllable she spoke.

He'd lured her to his cave of Death.

At that moment, he awoke.

He laid her down upon the ground;

The damp seeped through her hooded coat.

He kissed her softly, tenderly

And nuzzled her white throat.

His fangs sank in, he drained her blood.

She breathed her final, rasping breath.

Knowledge of him coursed through her mind

Then she succumbed to death.

© Annie Bell 2012

If you are interested in poetry, then come along to next month's meeting on the 6th November 2012 at 15 Queen Street, Colchester.  The themes will be: Injury of the Leg, Visitor and Dessert Wine.  

In addition to this, this Saturday (13th October), at 15 Queen St will be Open Mic Night - an excellent evening of poetic gorgeousness.  Come along and enjoy it!