I have been so busy of late, working on several projects at once. You see with the Covid era we have been through, and the hours of not working at the “day job” because of furlough – it was necessary to keep active. To be creative, and occupied. So, as a writer and poet, it was a time of productivity. From writing articles for zines, to self publishing another book of poetry, to collaborating with other writers, and even recording a track for a spoken word album. On top of that I am working on a third novel, editing two books of my own, and helping a mate out with publishing a memoir written by his late wife for charity.
So, you can see. I haven’t been lazy, just watching Netflix and Amazon Prime the whole time.
The track for the spoken word album is called
A Dance With The Devil Called Chance, which appears on the new Croydon Tourist Office compilation Friends Of Croydon Tourist Office
This track is a whopping eight minutes and eight seconds long, and is an extract from another forthcoming book titled The Forgotten Whisper On The Wind, my third collection of Pulp Fiction Poetry. But, anyway I digress. With my latest collection of poetry Pop Versus Subterranean having recently been published, I realised that under my own imprint I had published ten books since 2016.
I had had the idea of my own small publishing press since the mid 90s, when I had embarked on trying to be a writer.
As those of you who have read my blog over the last few years, you will have seen that I am inspired by the Beat Generation, and being brought up in the 70s , I had developed that Punk attitude of doing it for yourself.
From my conscious decision came the idea of Beatnpress. So, naturally when I began to self publish I developed my “brand”. I had aspirations to not only write, but to help other writers. However, I had lacked the confidence to really go for it. That is, until now. When life was paused, it made me evaluate. I considered what I wanted to do. I saw what I had managed in recent years, but didn’t want to go backwards. I was more determined than ever to try and make things work. Opportunities come your way, and sometimes you need something to kick your behind – so that you can really make those dreams and aspirations come true.
By creating http://www.beatnpress.co.uk I have provided myself, not only a platform for myself, but hopefully in the future, a platform for others.
Something that, at the moment gives me a sense of pride.
Anyway. I am sure readers, you are wondering what all this has to do with an old “Tin Sandwich”? Well. Nothing really – apart from recently I wrote a poem that I thought I would share at the end of this post. 😊
The Old Tin Sandwich
Clamped between the lips
The tongue bending as the note is found.
The vibration waves through the
Then the Blues wails
With its responsive sound.
A rhythmic backbeat
Is found by stomping feet, claps or drums.
Yes the harmonica hums.
The he haw
And a bit of wah wah
Hollow cheeks filled and then empty
Giving the sound plenty-
Streaming across the teeth
Fanning the passion
A Guitar simply weeps.
The hum is electric
As a crowd watches on.
The eyes are closed
Where did that note come from?
Is it a spiritual
A sound from the past?
Is it an echo of anguish
Or a triumphant sound?
Is it from down low
From beneath the ground?
Is it from the core.
Hunched over in midnight blue
A musician puts a spell on you.
The knee jerk of the call and response.
The onlooker may give a whoop of appreciation
Or just a silent nod
But either is alright
When it’s music that can be loved,
And the rhythms wash over you.
The Old Tin sandwich
Is never stale
When you learn to breathe life into the Cosmos.
©Jason Disley (April 2021)