So, we got the thumbs up from Claire to write some more articles for this column.
Yippee!
I left you off at the age of 29 with 5 years of poetical experience behind me and that things were about to change drastically…
I usually slow down at Christmas time and try and recharge and enjoy some time with my family and friends and if I’m looking to have a woman about ha ha.
I decided that Christmas I’d take a year out and figure some stuff out.
Basically, I wanted to know, I mean, I really, really wanted to know if I was going to stick to this path of writing and poetry.
When the New Year hit… I knew I didn’t want to give up completely, but I definitely was going to take a break.
So, what I came up with was this: I would mainly drink, smoke, eat and watch the TV for an entire year but… I had over 900 poems in my memory pen written in the space of four or five years.
I was going to go through that collection of work and send them out to every literary magazine I could get my hands on and try my luck for publication.
I got the list of magazines from a recent rejection from the Poetry Ireland Review, thanks to the editor of the magazine.
I got my aunt to print it out for me and I made a start sitting at my kitchen table with the papers spread out all over it.
I decided to work with all the magazines based in the UK, Ireland, America, Canada, Australia and New Zealand.
Basically, all the English speaking countries…
I had some acceptances based in Belfast thanks to Four x Four and Panning for Poems.
I had some interest in New York and Australia but they didn’t offer any publication at the time but they definitely wanted to see some more work.
Funny enough, the one in Australia were definitely interested, but because they were a university press they couldn’t publish any of my work – what a shame.
I also had some feedback on some of the work… which as you know is a very difficult thing to get these days so I was very grateful for it.
And as you can tell: there was a HELL of a lot of rejections, but do not EVER let that put you off as you go along on your creative path, because it is all a part of it…
Learn to FUCKING LOVE that part!!!!
As I ate, drank, smoked and watched TV… getting fatter, hairier and well rested, I started to get a little edgier near the end of the year.
So, I decided I would write and make a new film from a poem I wrote a couple of years ago that was published in my last book and the poem was called: The Dark Wank!
I contacted a young filmmaker who also wanted to work with me sometime.
I pitched the idea and the script to him and he went for it.
I wanted to make a film that was more about the words rather than the moving image or images.
My idea behind was a little surreal but very simple.
Inspired by a Warhol feature.
It was me in the dark with very little light and I was just smoking on a cigarette…
We made the film that December and we pushed it out there around that time.
During my time off I decided to take up painting as well.
I only wanted to paint silly cartoons based off the poems or my life experiences.
Nothing more…
I think by the end of the year I ended up with 20 paintings ha ha.
Coming up to the end of my year out, I really, really wanted to broaden my horizons in the writing game.
And… that is exactly what I did!
I will go into this in more depth in the next article.
And the articles are going to change a little.
They are all going to have titles and I am going to start talking about subject matter instead of it just being like a diary.
I just wanted to write this last one about my year out and the next one will be the last instalment of a diary-like article for this column.
It will take you up to my present day as a 31 year old writer and storyteller.
Until then, have fun writing and sending your work out there and getting rejected and maybe with some luck: accepted!
Either way, LOVE IT…
I’m going to leave you with The Dark Wank poem at the end of this.
It is one of my favourites because…
When I took this poem out for its first spin in the live circuit it was received with laughter and quite a bit of WOW facial expressions.
It sounds dirty but it really isn’t… it is more prophetic than anything.
But only you can judge that, nobody else.
Either way, an artist is just out to create art no matter the cost and despite the odds.
So, fuck it.
Love
PBJ
<3
The Dark Wank
I hate my heartbeat
Yet I work from God
From a renaissance of dark wanks
I wait about in a day
Thinking the next life is just the same as here
With the same alcoholics and the same faces
That passed their turn
Yet I am reunited with them and their blue bags
We never changed in body mind or shape
Still searching for the same answers
And our prophets are even lost
Will any of us really know
Can we truly not just be at peace
With Bacon’s truth of the pitch
Even I don’t cringe at my own obscurity anymore
But from my own obscure thinking
From a renaissance of dark wanks
I see this
The obscure is the death of little hearts
That never even had a chance
Or the change of a £100 in their torn pockets
It will take one solitary man
To stand up for Bill’s last speech
As he knew he was dying
And to make this happen for a truly happy world
Out of love and fascination
As I’ve mentioned before
As I look at myself in the living room mirror
I realise I am only human
And only an artist
I would love to be that solitary man
But I cry at my own selfish penny-dropping charity existence
I can only do what I can
From these dark wanks
In hopes it will inspire that man
It’s not about fame
The heart says to the artist
It is the difference you can make
From the words you put together
To cause a catalyst for the solid man
And say this
I LOVE YOU LIFE
I LOVE YOU PEOPLE
I LOVE THIS LIGHT
&
WE WILL ALWAYS LOVE FROM THIS FLICK
It’s not about my death or the alcoholics
Even they and I stood a chance
It’s all about the little hearts that died
While I surrendered
Just listen to each soul that walks passed
And you will know what to do
Straight from God to yourself
Life is all inspired
From a renaissance of dark wanks
So go out now
And make LOVE
As I’ve said before
What is reality
When you break it down through its component parts
It’s nothing
We are all lost in something we will never understand
But
As I see a hunting dog so close to a bird
And all they wanna do is kiss
I stand at the bottom of the stairs looking up
I walk slowly
Escalating to the room of dark wanks
I am debilitated
And centred for the earth to spin in PEACE
From my only heartbeat