Roar Poets Tour - Diary 1 - Armidale

Armidale is cold. I forgot all about that. After living there for a few years I'd forgotten that the beautiful rolling hills and rocks sit beneath a layer of frost so sharp when you speak the air slices your tongue.
But we got there... with our multi-layered pants and jumpers and socks...

There's no-one in Armidale you know? Unless you count the uni. But I'm not even sure if the uni counts itself as part of Armidale. I know when I was a student there we could exist pretty well without any form of town contact... that's either good or bad depending on how hungry you are/n't or how stoned you are/n't.

But I programmed the tour to included Armidale for one reason: it's the beginning of things.

It was in Armidale I really learnt to rap, to write, to produce... and to make friends.

So here I was again, after all these years, showing my art to the people who had supported me from the beginning.
Sure, it wasn't ME they were supporting. It was their sons and friends who I happened to be in a band with. But I took what I could and still ran with it. It still mattered.

SO...
We arrived in Armidale to find that only a few of the flyers had been handed out, the radio station wouldn't get back to us, and the community group we'd been in contact with for months, desperately trying to get any form of workshops or community connections, were STILL not taking us seriously, or just not... I dunno...
what do you call it when people don't get back to you and then give you backhanded support at the last minute?...
On top of that we'd been told the place would've emptied out for school holidays...
It was fucking frustrating and a bit like being punched in the guts.

So when people showed up to the gig. When a room full of people watched and listened intently. When a table actually said they were here for poetry... Well suffice to say I was pretty happy. When the people who had been there to support their family and friends said "wow, it's great to see what you've been up to all these years, fantastic", I felt like I still mattered. Which is a nice feeling. And to be perfectly down and depressingly honest probably the first time I've felt that this year.

And BrokenWord were fantastic. It was them that most people were there to see, and they did not disappoint. What was amazing was that Martin Ingle and Angela Willock kept people in the room after the BrokenWord boys had done their thing. The strength and raw honesty of their performances kept people gripped. The 90% of the room who weren't there for poetry were all of a sudden deeply invested in the poetry. The bar... the fucking bar where everyone milled and talked and yelled drunkedly fell silent on more than one occasion in all of our sets.

And being the organiser and facilitator of the event I was worried we wouldn't be able to make any money to pay the venue hire or even ourselves... but we did. Yes we lost money still. Fuel and food dents finances dramatically but hey... whatever... we got at least one free meal out of it...  and the venue hire. And we were all pretty clear from the beginning that this would not be a money making venture... it would be gypsy survival. It would be rolling with the punches and making the most of it. It would be: Happiness = people + fires + conversations.
Which we had plenty of on Saturday night after the "slab" gig...

So now on to Nimbin. The Oasis Cafe. 7pm Thursday night 20 June.
The Roar Poets Tour is alive. It's a thing now. Not just a few words online or a FB event.
And we're excited and enjoying the taste so far.
Sure Armidale was cold. But if the rest of the shows end up being half as warm-hearted as Armidale then I think we'll be pretty happy.

reverse culture shock

Starting to feel normal again after my trip and totally looking forward to JamJar Poetry Slam this Sunday.
I've managed to lock in someone who I haven't seen in a while Kaitlyn Plyley, who I met at the Aus National Poetry Slam finals a few years back and have seen at a QLD final as well but otherwise has been very quiet. So quiet that when she told me she was at last month's Jam Jar Poetry Slam hosted by Adam Hadley, I was stoked to know she was not only performing but living in Brisbane.

I've had a talk to some friends who made me realised there is such a thing as a "reverse culture shock" so to speak. Strange huh? But yesterday and today I have been feeling good. Still missing the monkeys. But otherwise loving the sound of kookaburras and magpies in the morning.
I am slowly but surely sifting through the poems from my trip and editing them.
I'm looking forward to heading down to Bellingen next weekend the 22 March for a few performances on the Friday as well as having another go at the slam title.
Although I'm quite cynical about slam, from running them for the nearly 2 years, as well as numerous comps, I still miss competing. So it's nice to head down to Bello every year and just have a bit of fun away from the city hype that comes from the ego fest here.

Here's another poem from my trip.

---------------------
Rooftop yoga, eagles
gotta eat,
swoop down,
swoop into the pose and
breathe out.
Your soul is from the
sun, body’s
gotta eat,
swoop up,
chin to knees and
swoop through god.
Baby meditation, eyes
gotta eat,
blind and off balance,
swoop through,
bend,
bend,
bend.
Swoop stars into your heart.
Now watch, can you do
lotus?
Practice,
practice,
practice.
Teacher’s
gotta eat.
Swoop through
the wallet,
swoop up and
breathe out.
------------------

Raw Poet, ROOOAAAARRRRR

It’s the end of the year (derrr), Speedpoets has finished up, we are coming up to our last Jam Jar Poetry Slam of the year too, Words or Whatever is having a November sign-off on the 16^th and basically we say bye for another poetry year and let the words sift through till January…Not that it’s all over, of course, Woodford’s WordFood is going to be a hell of a new year’s event and there’s a few nice little open mics still kickin around. 
But sometimes it’s nice to honour the year and go out with a bang. 
So please come, if you’re in Brisbane, to

Raw Poet Roar! 


Dec 1^st, 6:30-10pm. $15 entry. The Box. West End. 
It’s gonna be huge.


And it’s been a huge year for me, my first year doing art as my actual career (eek!), the 1^st anniversary of Jam Jar Poetry Slam, my first year touring Melbourne, Sydney, Lismore, Byron etc etc… So I want to celebrate and honour that, if nothing else…And really, I’ve NEVER done a big set in front of my home audience before. It’s been my personal challenge to hold the space for a big, big feature. Not like poetry “big feature” of 15minutes. 
I mean like... double that, if not more.
It brings into play my role as not only poet, but entertainer as well. Someone who can hold a crowd. Can I do it? I don’t really know. But you can come and see that’s for sure. And if I fail, then there’s entertainment in the cringe worthiness of it all…

The other thing about this event is, well, I thought about who else to get to feature. I thought of some of the big names and my friends in Brisbane spoken word at the moment… Doubting Thomas, Eleanor Jackson, Betsy Turcot, Ghostboy, Graham Nunn, Adam Hadley… the list goes on…
But then I thought, there are a fair few poets whose work I really like, whose ethos and attitude I really like, and who seem to come to almost everything, read a poem or two, basically making the Brisbane Poetry community the warm and diverse place it is.

So fuck it, let’s make a place for the raw talent to shine. An event featuring sets by some of Brisbane’s hidden (and not-so-hidden) poetry talent. From beautifully realised car rides with Trudie Murrel through to haiku heavyweight Vuong Pham, faerie love poet Rachael Dean and slam maker of lurrvve to words Martin Ingle, this is going to be raw, different, crazy, real...

So let’s roar together eh? With host Fern Thompsett at the helm, we are guaranteed a night of bad puns, fun smiles, and a down-to-earth way to celebrate success in all its forms AND future success in all its hope and glory.
Raw Poet Roar has come together beautifully.
I can’t wait to see what this crew of 10 poets has to offer.
And what the hell am I gonna do?
Blow the roof off the mother.
Roar.
----------------------------------
The official line-up for Raw Poet Roar is as follows:

• JD
• Rachael Dean
• Vuong Pham
• Ahliya Kite
• Michael Cohen 
• Zenobia Frost
• Trudie Murrel
• JK
• Angela Willock
• Martin Ingle

Special guests include 18 year old stand-up comedian Calum Johnston 
and kooky songstress Lucy Fox!
-------------------------
6:30pm, Saturday 1st December, The Box, 29 Vulture St, West End. $15 entry.

The Sorry Tree

It's World Suicide Prevention Day, and after being introduced to the crew from Soften The Fuck Up, I thought I would write a piece concerning the taboo of suicide, especially in young men. However, I always felt it was rather forced for me to talk about something that wasn't directly related to me. Then I realised if I don't talk about it, and leave it only to those with first-hand experience, I just contribute to the very taboo I'm talking about.

I met a guy a year ago who talked about when I was in my rap crew M.A.S. and how, when I left, a few fellahs followed my art still.
Then he told me when they "fell off".
At first I didn't know what he meant.
Then it clicked, and I understood.

This piece is dedicated to those boys, whose names I don't know, whose faces I never saw, but knew me as someone, or something, that made their life a bit brighter.
And also to those boys who I never met and will never know and who never knew me at all.

Peace. Love to you.
Scotty

Slammy

I remember a few years back when I won the Qld Poetry Slam, and I thought I was awesome. It was something that I wanted. So. Bad.

And this year I got to host the QLD Poetry Slam heats and final with the lovely Tessa Leon and I gotta say it was a blast.

See there's this thing that happens in slam.

You want to win. Most of the time.

And as a host. You have to take the piss. Most of the time.

And somewhere in the middle you meet that careful see-saw of acknowledging the effort and the nerves of the poets involved, while also acknowledging that, realistically, this is the smallest stepping stone in a performance/poetry/artistic future.

And that it's just a frikkin slam.

So thanks to the following poets who just performed on Friday night. Just did their thing for the poetry, the stage, and not for the points.
Thank you Betsy Turcot for giving me a poem. And a beautiful one.
Thank you Eleanor Jackson for giving me a reason to enjoy slam.
Thank you Angela Willock for stepping up and just being you.

And thank you to all the young kids who were there from regional QLD areas and beyond. Sharing their stories for the sake of sharing their stories. You were all really great.

It was a blast. And there's always next year. And the year after. And the year after.

Rebirth

Once again the QLD Poetry Festival and the QLD State Poetry Slam are over for another year. Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup is done and dusted and all that is left is the party and the sunshine of B.F.F. and Brisbane Festival, West End Street Party (22nd September) etc etc... all in all though, the peak of the words are done for another year!

And at Jam Jar Poetry Slam on Sunday I was lucky enough to experience some of the spill-over from that. We had 12 poets sign up, most of whom I'd never seen before but had come to the slams and the poetry events throughout Brisbane.

Also, I got to witness one of my workshop participants win the slam on sunday, after having a huge growth in performance after entering Nimbin and the state slam. It's so great to see people go from strength to strength and realise there is no final product in poetry, or even art in general. You just keep going. Keep creating. Keep challenging yourself in new and exciting ways.

So good on you newbies, semi-newbies and not-so-newbies. Let's keep going.

I know this next year will be challenging for me in my pursuit of constant challenge and creation.

It might be time to write a show.

It might be time to tour overseas.

Either way the poetry community is in safe hands.

Yearly breakdown, break it down!

Oh my my... so I told you I was no good at keeping up with this stuff eh? Very unprofessional they tsk... but seriously... I'm just not good at writing all this out and sometimes it just becomes me venting or talking shit and I do enough of that on stage.

But anyway. What's happening?How's your 2012 going? Oh that's good/bad. Oh my.

Well I toured Melbourne last year. Hip hooray. Very successful according to feedback. I like doing shows more than I like writing in blogs because that way you can actually kinda know who I am. I'm a stage person. I like to move. To imbue meaning through words and action. Written poetry is very hard for me because it leaves out that part of the game that I like: the expression.

So this year, after doing woodford and melbourne, I'm going to go for big things.

No I'm not trying to take over the world pinky. But I would like to reach as many people with as many stories as possible.

I love Tim Minchin see? And Roald Dahl. And Ursula K. Le Guin.

The reason I bring them up is because you can watch or read anything by them and it is at once easily accessible and yet thought provoking (OK for Le Guin fans I know that some of her sci fi is incredibly dense and an acquired taste, but that's beside the point).

So I want to play smart, get active, and move crowds. Sounds easy but it's not.

And some poets out there, even some of my friends, love to raise their nose and say that's like selling out, it's like compromising your art, it's like, just not poetry man...

Well I find that point of view not only incredibly boooooooooooring but fuckin ironic. You see, to want to be great, you have to acknowledge certain things within yourself. You have to peer at yourself in the mirror and say "well, what are you going to say that's just SOOOO fuckin special mate? Who's going to want to hear YOU speak?"

And those questions leave you with answers you never thought were there. Nor ever considered before.

But when artists say "I DON'T DO THIS" or "I only do paid gigs" (that's always one for a chuckle) or "that's too easy... ohhh look at how difficult and thought provoking I am." You're placing limitations on yourself and your art. What you're actually saying is "I'm so far up my own arse to give a fuck what an audience thinks, their intelligence, their capability of holding meaning, joy, and all things art related." You're admitting you're an up yourself tosser who would rather be the fuckin elite.

"You didn't GET my poem? oh, poor YOU..."

So that's why I'm going to go to Canberra this week and blow up BAD SLAM! NO BISCUIT! on Wednesday 15th Feb, with my good friend Doubting Thomas.

That's why I'm going to perform in the installation art of Julie-Anne Milinski, the staircases, the elevator and the street corner at Metro Arts this Saturday (18th Feb) night for BEAF.

That's why when JAM JAR Poetry Slam (26th Feb) comes along I'm going to do my best to entertain, provoke and lift my game. Move. Engage the stage. Create great things through words. Because when you do that you're saying "I care about my audience and I want to give you the best. I want to tell you a story I find important. And most of all, I'm going to have a ball doing it. Because I love it and it's fun."

And I'll get paid bugger all, be out of pocket, be hungry and be lost for where to go next. And I will fail. I'll do really lame stuff. And I'll do stuff that I don't think is that good but people will like it.

I WILL TAKE RISKS!

And I'll love every step on this starving path.

And there might be dragons!

Welcome to 2012.

This video was made on the (supposed) last day on earth. Rapture baby...

Darkwing Dubs - If Jesus Was Born Again. from thomas on Vimeo.

Made by Thomas Day and Darkwing Dubs sauntering through West End's main strip.

When the world begins again

So I've decided to give this another go. When last I blogged stuff it felt really weird and uninviting, especially to me. I don't think there was anything bad about what was on here. But... I dunno... it just kinda got the better of me until I convinced myself to tear the fuckin site down. Which is impossible or something because it's still here, blinking at me like the eye of Sauron.

The picture is from my recent trip to NT and a small Indigenous community I visited to volunteer in a school holiday program. I spent much time writing and exploring the surrounding countryside, when I wasn't playing basketball with kids who taught me to swear in Arrente language...

There's a road that leads to

nowhere

and everywhere

at once.

Where the earth stares at the

stars

and can't hide its

lust.

Where they roll out the

red carpet for you.

Red sky

and

red dust.

On this road that leads to

nowhere

and everywhere

at once.