Teesside Culture

Last night, I ventured along to Borders at Teesside as part of their 'Borderlines' event. Thank God I got a lift, as I would probably be wandering the mean streets of Teesside if I had braved the train (never a good thing, I am told). The thing I continue to love about book launches and readings is there really is no way of estimating the number of people who will show up. It was a lovely evening, which could mean that the store would be packed with people using books as fans and slurping Magnums, or that the general public thought 'screw Borders, I'm going to play football in the park'. As it was, we apparently were contending against a live football match - I won't embarrass myself by pretending to know which match, or who was playing, but one of the 'lively' audience members felt the need to shout it out, so I thought I would give it a mention.

After many confused wrong-turns, and a pick-up point in Blaydon, we meandered along to the retail park in record timing. I have to say, a reading in a book-store is rather bizarre. Based at the foot of the stairs, you could listen to the poet as they performed, and also catch the embarrassed grins of the people ascending to the Starbucks in the sky. The slightly sadistic side of me was desperate for somebody to trip, as I inevitably would have in their shoes. However, it was not to be, and the reading passed without a hitch. We had some pretty exciting hip-hop MCs, which were greeted with delight (and shock from the little old lady sat in the front row). If somebody had mentioned previously that there was an open-mic session, there is a chance I would have been more prepared...as it was, I was thrown in at the deep end, and read 'Bitcherel' from the Staying Alvie anthology I bought in my first-year of Uni. Although I am pretty certain I resembled a sweating tomato, I did not trip on cables, headbutt the microphone or even drop my book! It was, in my own definition, a success, and I even got heckled!

Anyway, my point is - support local book-launches! Honestly, they're good fun, and you get to meet some hilarious, eccentric, talented and very very friendly people. Once the first couple of people have braved the mic, a torrent of readers surged the stage (by stage, I mean corner of the floor separated by velvet foot-stools). I even heard a rather erotic ode to the Wicked Witch of the West. However, my favourite poem of the night was actually the one I have completely forgotten! The idea was that each word had to have a certain vowel in it, and the man who read chose the letter 'e'. The poem was really fantastic, and so this morning, live and kicking in my Sunday-leggings, I decided to have a crack at one myself...read below, and have a go yourselves, it's really fun!

***

We creep

Fleeing sleep, we venture deep

The streets are clean when evening steals

The people home.

Silent feet, we peel the dreams, filter

The real

Feel, feel

The heat, sweet metronome, the incessant

Bleat the heart

Beats.

Cheap beer, fire embers rise

Weeping smoke engraving eyes

Ashes scatter, leave the pile neat

Head home, cruising streets

Leap the fence, creep

The key, the key, silver, sleek

Silence reigns.