Snell Publishers

Independent e-publishers of fantasy, self-help and travel poetry

The Folk Cafe

This is as good a place as any to begin a blog. It was two weeks ago that I said ‘yes, I would read my poetry at a sort of a folk /open mic session held in aid of Lucy’s charity ‘CHAPS’.’ Lucy is raising money for an orphanage she’s going to build in Uganda. Someone wants to go out and raise the money for an orphanage in Uganda. So I thought Yay! I’m there and if that’s to read some poetry that I haven’t read in public, so be it.

Now this folk café today was something else entirely. There was music, there was singing, there was stand- up comedians, and some poets. You can imagine, poetry and poetry about homelessness was not quite the hit spot. But there…an audience is an audience and it was a good cause.

Right on time people streamed in and in flabbergast mode I wonder where does Lucy find all these people? What corner of her life? There’s the acts and then an audience ready to have a good time and drink tea, eat cake (sticky chocolate), chocolate fingers and jaffa cakes.

One of the first acts was music from Uganda, then an amazing black guy singer, large friendly and wonderful . He sang two songs and I thought I wouldn’t want to follow that and yes, it was my turn next. Of course the mike was set for someone 12 inches taller than me, so as I started no one knew I was reading anything. There was tea making in the kitchen and cups rattling and people talking to one another in the audience and me fumbling in not good light to read slightly small print with glasses and unable to look at the audience. Neil realizes I am not on the mike and comes over and adjusts it so that I am. I finish with this one:

RAZOR FACE
He’s got a razor scar on his cheek
And a woolen hat pulled down to his eyes
He plugs the jobcentre website
With his needs
And waits intently and patiently
Hopeful of a new day
Dawning.

He’s six foot two and his buddy’s five foot four
And they navigate
The shores of postmodern possibilities
In a world of the jobbed and the jobless
Waiting for their place to arrive.

Amazing singers (these people must be professionals, where do they come from? ) We finish with two comics, one after the other and each one’s jokes worse than the last, but so bad that they are funny.

There are baskets on the tables to collect money for orphanage.