A new book is on its way! Published by Beatnpress, an experimental book culled from many hand written notes that consist of extracts from short stories, poems and film scripts. This non linea novella tells the tale of Diz – a young trumpet player who leaves his mundane life in Manchester, England, to spontaneously fly to New York and find himself. Roll forward 5 years. He is still in America. He is beginning to make a name for himself as a musician. Commissioned to write a Jazzy score for a movie – he takes on challenges he did not expect. Memories are evoked, and his past seems to be looming ever larger in his present day life. Vignettes crafted together build up the tale of his recent past, his mental health and the truth he is trying to escape from. Can those around him help him when it matters most?
In other news UB40 (A Legal Drug) by Tanya Kennedy recently published by Beatnpress
Has continued to be a success and is so far the bestselling book at Beatnpress. It sold out of its first print run, and should sell out of its second print run soon, as half of the second print run is already accounted for – and this is before the new run has been delivered from the printers! The books should be arriving tomorrow or Thursday and will begin being shipped out to customers as soon as they arrive. So, if you want a copy go to http://www.beatnpress.co.uk today and get your order in quick.
As well as releasing these books, in the last week I have written an article for Zani, which is an online magazine with articles covering a wide range of topics. The article I wrote was titled A Pint Of Bitter, Bound To Be A Good Thing… And was About British Jazz icon Tubby Hayes, and a new limited edition book that has been published by Mono Media Books. In the article I interview the main man behind the project-Mark Baxter, who is an author and film producer, amongst other things.
You can read that article here, and if you are interested in this book about the British Jazz legend. You can follow the link for more information at the end of the article.
So, as you can see – I have been fairly busy. However, the main thing I wish to bring to your attention is my new paperback that has been released – it is titled – Angel In Alabaster,
and is the sequel to Beat To A Pulp. It is a book I am very pleased with and continues with the theme of writing a prose tale in verse form. My interest in Pulp Fiction and Film Noir is very apparent in this book, and it contains moments that feel familiar, and comfortable within the environment of the tale. In fact. An up and coming writer – who is very hip to the world’s I allude to in the book has written a foreword to the book, which I feel gives the reader an insight into what Pulp Fiction Poetry, Or Film Noir Verse is. Here is that foreword:
It’s a pulp world. A space where people make shapes, alloyed by desire. It’s where Exterior means: “I need to get from Point A to B, with a direct response,” as Interior leaves us groping for dark epithets with one hand, while knocking back a boiler maker with the other. Jason Disley knows this world like the back of his hand. Read The Angel in Alabaster and you’ll be on several fifth drinking terms with it. It’s a warm enough room; a bourbon haze, a nascent lounge lizard on the Wurlitzer and a Turkish delight scarlet hue in the furnishing. Pick through the Fry’s, expect to stumble upon some ebon promise. Loretta, Johnny, The Artisan: all creations unique to Jason’s palette – the wasp’s sting here is in their familiarity. The initial impact of The Angel in Alabaster comes from this sense of ironic comfort. For a long time fan of the novels of Raymond Chandler, the songs of Johnny Mercer and the silhouette of Gene Tierney, reading words that invoke 1940s LA hums the same heat as Vernon Duke’s mellow Manhattan Fall: “Glittering crowds (…) In canyons of steel / They’re making me feel I’m home.” But, as a later poet of sky rises observed, It’s also where the hatred is. The Angel in Alabaster has a raison d’etre supplanted from a previous work, BeattoaPulp: a juxtaposition of the argot of gumshoes and cheese cakes with the ennui of the verse styling found in T. S. Eliot’s 1920s modernism. In laymen’s terms, this is a way of depicting a story filled with the pulse of hard boiled sensuality, through a poetic metre impressing ‘hip’ speech rhythms, for those of a Spillane bent, at the same time as employing strong rhymes to locate a subtle sense of the universality of Noir in these Google fried times. “The stuff that dreams are made of” now so manifest that “doing a number” is as much part of the current bloodstream as a commonplace app; on its 20th Luckie for the day of course. And this is where Jason mounts his own unique killer-diller. Jason’s poetry in The Angel in Alabaster delves into Noir as an intrinsic part of so many of today’s cultural default mode. Sin City – look at the implied neons and Edward Hopper pallor. Peaky Blinders – the hissy darkness and ‘hat as icon’ imagery. Boardwalk Empire – well, It’s like a resort for…. Gangsters. However, Mr. Disley is anything but the lid on a semiotic dust bin. E. M. Forster told us to “only connect;” he could be describing the best way to tuck into The Angel in Alabaster’s rhyme of the non’lent gumshoe jazz riff. Dig the influences, connect the dots. How modernist. Dot connection is indeed the thing wherein we catch the shtick of the Dis. Slang is normally habitual; It’s great paradox residing in it being always there, despite fashion making it permanently transient. Within the bounds of The Angel in Alabaster, it functions as a refining signifier, beckoning towards a signified inscribed with ‘pleasure.’ Jason’s utilisation of Eliot’s bleak poetics illustrates this best of all. Cf, The Waste Land: She smooths her hair with automatic hand, And puts a record on the gramophone. ‘This music crept by me upon the waters’ (…) O City City (….) Now ‘Angel’: Johnny needed to shake the lead out of his shorts (….) He would find the gator with a gat Or the cat with a shiv Who had decided the Lady in The Jade Dress must crowd (….) He needed Seven to become Eleven in this crap shoot.
In The Waste Land, speech rhythm connotes towards ennui – a boredom that beckons towards an out of reach memory from a Tempest. In ‘Alabaster’, the metre is also of speech, but this time the modernist urge to make it new comes not as a lofty literary, but in a bouquet of side mouth rye. The fragments that Jason stores against The Artisan’s ruins read more like William Gottlieb’s photograph of 52nd Street: from swing to bop is the measure of Seven becoming Eleven. The Angel of Alabaster may allude to Eliot’s “a handful of dust,” in form; when read and digested, the grab is still there but definitely in a lamp gaze view – from the lipstick cap to Lana Turner’s eyes, plus John Garfield’s peak in between. Whether you dream of Rita Hayworth or crack like Jimmy Cagney, rein in your 38. for Jason Disley’s latest invitation to the pulps. *
Nathan James Le-bas
*: All quotes from The Waste Land, The Complete Poems & Plays of T. S. Eliot (London, 1969).
AngelInAlabaster has a wonderful bookcover designed by Mark Head Aka Mr. H. Mark, designed the cover for Beat To A Pulp, and it seemed natural to ask him to design the cover for this collection.
The book is available now from
And soon it will be available from other online retailers such as Amazon.
Going forward, I am working on a third Film Noir Verse book, and the sequel to Seven Day Fool, titled Take It Or Leave It, this book will initially be made available as an ebook. I hope that when the time is right it will be published in paperback.
Lastly I wish to share a video of a poem I have written, that is a message for all of us at this time. As we all make our way through this Pandemic – follow the rules and keep safe. I will no doubt be sharing something else with you next Monday. JD.
I have been busy. Extremely busy. Last month saw my run of poetry performances hitting an all time high. So much so – I haven’t posted anything here for while. For that I can only apologise. Having performed in Torquay, Paignton, Newton Abbot and a gig in Birmingham it is a wonder I have had time to focus on other things. But I am pleased to say I have. I have been adding the final touches to my new book which will be available soon. My book is a poetry collection that is different from anything else I have ever written. It is a complete Pulp Fiction tale told in verse form.
Here is the blurb from the back cover:
“In this, epic collection, Disley has conjured up a cast of characters that shimmer, dodge and thrill the page with a story straight out of storyvile”
SJ Knight – Crime Fiction Writer
Firmly set in the period of Pulp and Noir of the twentieth century in an unnamed American city- Beat To A Pulp delivers poetry that’s full of the jive talk you would expect to read in Hammett, Chandler and Spillane.
It’s a Beat Poet delivering his version of a Pulp Fiction. It’s straight from the fridge and if you’ve got your boots on, you will dig the jive and imagine what happens when the canary sings.
The book is published by Beatnpress.
Now that the book is practically complete, it’s forty poems, are also ready to be performed and on the 14th of this month I will be debuting a handful of the poems from this collection. If you are a fan of Pulp Fiction, and Film Noir like I am. You will know that Jazz is often associated with the movies, and tales in the Pulp oeuvre. So naturally as my thoughts move towards performing and breathing life into the poems. I immediately felt it was right to have some suitable jazz to play in the back ground whilst reading. Enhancing the experience and hopefully allowing for a Film Noir to play in the minds of the audience.
So I have made a suitable Spotify playlist. It is only short and comprises of just three tunes.
No doubt as I add more of the poems to the performances I will add more music to the playlist.
The debut performance will be at Word Command at Zitas in Exeter.
If things develop as I hope I would love to turn this collection into a play also. To see the characters come to life would be incredible. It would also be another string to add to my writing bow. But for now I am just so happy to share that this collection is going to be available to read soon. The book cover has been designed by Mr. H. He has also provided six images within the collection to accompany the poetry. Mr H. also designed the cover to my debut novella Seven Day Fool.
Well here we are in August. Today’s blog starts with the sad news of a fellow poet who has passed away.
He was someone I only knew briefly. But, his entrance into my life has been profound. He was a kindred spirit. A lover of Jazz and The Beat Generation. He was anti establishment, despite – or maybe because – he worked in banking in the City of London in his younger life. But his love of Jazz and the hedonistic writing of the Beats made Jazzman John Clarke follow his own road. One full of discovery and zest. He seemed to have had at times a difficult life, but he never let it get him down. Instead he showed the verve and spontaneity of what he called himself – A Jazzman. His poetry drove along to rhythms I admired. I have listened to recordings he has done, and seen videos he is in. The charm of this excentric Shamanistic reveller never ceasing to amaze me. His conviction being so pure and free because he believed in what he was doing. I was introduced too him via the Internet by Chris Free from Mr Free Shirts and the Singer, Songwriter of the superb band – The Sound Of Popart. Whose latest album’s title The Beat The Beautiful And The Loaded could sum up John very easily. His words could be beautiful, and were often loaded with thought provoking statements. And he was always a true Beat as far as I was concerned. When John and I began to converse it was fantastic. Here I was – the lesser experienced performer, but someone who admired what I was hearing and seeing. His enthusiasm matched my own. He loved I had written books about Jazz and Blues music. From the conversations we had – it was only natural I ask him to write the foreword to my third book in a music trilogy. This book – Runaway Soul! saw him place an everlasting stamp on my life, because he very graciously said he would be honoured to do so.
Here is a snippet of what he wrote about my poetry:
“The words quickly draw you in with the staccato of repeated one-liners that proceed to propel and project the reader forward and all the while the poet’s unmistakable voice is present, laid bare, loud, clear and uncluttered.
Then, like a stray spark from a flame, urban reality kicks in… “
So, we have been experiencing the best prolonged spell of decent weather since 1976 here in the UK. It has inspired many a writer I am sure. I know I have been writing quite a bit lately. So maybe it’s the happy place good weather can put you in, or in typical British style it gives us another topic to moan about. – “it’s too hot”, “I can’t stand the heat” etc are common gripes. One thing for sure in my life music always puts me in a better place, and Jazz is something that always brings a smile. It moves me. It really does. Some people are indifferent to Jazz, or can’t be bothered to listen properly to the nuances of jazz. To be able to focus on a part of a tune that takes the listener into different places before returning comfortably to its original melody.
For me it is cool jazz and modern jazz that I tip my hat to. I also enjoy bebop. Why? I am not sure. But, I think that after reading books like The Horn by John Clellon Holmes
The Horn by John Clellon Holmes
I have found myself transported into the coolness that Jazz brings. I so enjoy listening to the likes of Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Charles Mingus, Lee Morgan, Eric Dolphy et al that the whole coolness of Jazz has become just a little obsessive. The original Beat writers loved jazz too. So just like Kerouac and Neal Cassady I like to really dig the music, click my fingers in time to the rhythm nod my head or even just dance. It is something that just gets those endorphins going.
A book that is a collection of Jazz influenced poems that includes a Spotify play list. It is a poem I wish to share.
I am Jazz
I mean I am
Of a syncopated rhythm
Like acorns on the breeze
I freeze and drop
Like beads of sweat
I dig beneath the skin
Raising hairs from within
I tremor with surprise
And melodic lies
In note form
Always trying to escape
What is perceived as the norm.
I comfort when the need arrises
Casting out nets to the wisest.
Capturing senses of promise and wonder
Taking listeners out and yonder.
For it is the beauty of
It is understood.
Whether it be through the mediums of brass, hide and wood.
That makes its presence feel good.
Messages subliminal or not
I am the music that can make you cool
When you are hot.
That climbs from the underground.
Whilst you are digging for that
August 21st sees the return of Speaky Blinders at Peaky Blinders Bar in Paignton.
It really is going to be a blinder! There are, already an amazing group of talented wordsmiths lined up and we have our first female headliner the wonderfully witty Samantha Boarer whose poetry is personal, graphic and often about sex or social inabilities and is guaranteed to raise an eyebrow and a smile. She has recently had her debut collection published by Burning Eye Books Real Grown-Up Womenand is a highly recommended read.
There will be more news about events and other projects I am involved in over the coming month. But for now enjoy the weather and all that jazz! Plus Speaky Blinders is an open mic night. So if you are in the area and like to perform spoken word or tell a few jokes please pop down and join us! JD.
Last Saturday I had the pleasure of performing at the Torbay March Of The Mods where I performed five poems all accompanied by music. March Of The Mods is a wonderful charity event that takes place all around the country throughout March. It raises money for The Teenage Cancer Trust. So naturally it is an honour to be involved.
Billed as “The Beat Poet” I read five original poems:
Firecracker On My Mind
Hobo’s and Tramps
Down At The Flamingo.
This last poem is a firm favourite of mine.
It’s about those who used to venture to the famous Flamingo Jazz Club
In the 1960s. Which was situated on Wardour Street in Soho, London. One of the resident performers at this time was the incredibly cool and popular Georgie Fame
who like the Mods and American GI’s that used to frequently go there – was a huge fan of jazz, r& b and ska. Consequently it was a melting pot of all that was exciting in a post war Britain. Multiracial, happy and free to enjoy all that was great. This was the “Modernist” time. And that is what my poem conveys.
Here is my poem Down At The Flamingo
This poem is in my book Jazz Poetry – Improvisations in Language.
The second book in my music trilogy – Beat, Blues and the Rhythm Of Fools is a book of poetry that takes inspiration from blues music and is perhaps a collection that is closer too my true self than some of my other works. Writer Jason Brummell states it is:
“Unashamed in its emotional nakedness”
This I believe to be true. I am after all a thoughtful poet sharing spontaneous verse in the typical Beat tradition. Although I am inspired by the many elements of British subcultures–mainly the Modernist scene of the fifties and sixties, but,to be honest- having been brought up in the seventies and eighties there are elements of Punk angst, and the Hippy ambience of the Acid Jazz/ early House music Raver evident in my ramblings. I am after all some sort of subculturalist sponge. I’m like a Magpie that steals all that glitters in the orbit of my inspirations in life. Music is my key. It unlocks my thought processes and this is evident throughout all my work. I don’t have any profound plans – I just write – just as I am now- letting the words reveal something. Jason Brummell the author of two fantastic Mod Fiction novels All About My Girl and All Or Nothing which are available Here at Suave Collective Publishing very kindly provided a foreword too this book. His foreword which I am providing for you to read in a moment shows my love of Jazz which is evident in the rhythms of my writing – although Blues music is mainly the subject matter for this collection- or I should say topics found in great Blues tunes but not exclusively – for there are also -post Brexit and semi political poems revealing my unhappiness of the state of life these days – but that does not mean to say that this collection is completely maudlin or just one big whinge about the state of things. For there are as always elements of hope and change in my work. Here is the complete foreword to this book which is available to buy now from Amazon
I feel I’ve known Jason, a lifetime although in truth possibly just a couple of years. He has an appreciation of the finer cuts of cloth in life and wears his passions on his well tailored sleeves. He is sincere and empathetic and like much in his life he does it for the simple pleasure of it and hopes that it reaches out and connects. Perhaps that’s why I feel I’ve known him longer; his poetry and his word play lay his thoughts bare, it is Unashamed in its emotional nakedness.We used to call this “Honesty” perhaps an increasingly old-School virtue, now somewhat lost amid the machinations of political smokeand media mirrors and an unresponsive population happy to be spoon-fed both false idols and villains.
Jason’s word play takes its lead from the late 50’s Beats, with a knowing nod to the Liverpool poets of the 60’s but isn’t confined to the past. It’s about the here and now, the free and the how to be, with it’s deft interplay of. meter. and. space. that is…
…of modal shifts…
… in Modern…
…Jazz (another clear passion)
… no wonder when the same raw “feel” and spiritualism that drove Coltrane and Miles to peel back the layers of grime and let the purest of light illuminate and cleanse the darkest worlds and minds. Jason’s poetry attempts the same and much like his Jazz idols attempt to shed a positive call for change rather than raging against an uncaring machine. Sometimes the reach is too far, but the words remain as they are… for that is truth…
…. that is honesty
Jason Brummell August 2016
I feel it only be right I share one of my poems from this collection. Naturally I understand poetry doesn’t have a huge market – but if you like what you have read in this blog – feel free to comment and maybe treat yourself or someone to a copy of this book which I am proud of.Here is Songs of Blues
Something I wrote whilst listening to Howlin’ Wolf
Songs of Blues play on the highways
Making waves in your mind
Wait a minute!
The Blues tell you a story
One that is defined
Making a tale of sadness
Head along a new road
A road of understanding
Whereas the Blues man sings
A life takes wings
Harsh tales of love and sacrifice
Being down and out
A lover scorned
A Devil’s doom warned.
Deceptions of the heart.
All brought together by guitars and harps –
And howling Wolves.
Maudlin moments of acknowledgement
Making your head nod
To a beat of repetition
And the call and response of a spiritual.
Oh baby do you understand?
Do you know where I’m coming from?
Be it a field or a chain gang.
And alleyways of desolated moonshine.
The Blues are here and now
Listen or it don’t mean a thing.
Don’t take your superstition
With the derision
Of the gloom.
Hear the light and shade.
Appreciate the good things.
Just move on.
Take your soul in a journey to unwind.
Respite of The Blues
You can be on top of the world when you are feeling blue. Juxtaposed tunes of driving rhythm with lyrics of sad lives.
Those who know me – know I am a fan of Jack Kerouac and the whole Beat Generation idea of cool.
My poetry has many moments of Beat style homages and a naked yearning for that coolness that is lauded through rose tinted glasses and the smoke filled, Jazz loving hipness of that era of the fifties and sixties, when Jack ( Kerouac) and his friends Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs and other like minded souls sought out to find a meaning to life that was different from the way that the US establishment lead the rest of the world to believe life was, ( The American Dream) that was often portrayed as candy floss, station wagons, bubblegum and the nuclear family of : Husband, Wife and two point four children – living conventionally- the wife and mother being the house wife. The husband and father going to the office while the children went to school and perhaps played sports at the weekend. So they the “Beats” sought to show how life was not that seen depicted in a Mad Men advertising brochure but was in equal parts full of light and shade. Vibrant colour and the blackness of the horror’s that real life could bring. The post war realism and the idea of the Cold War leading to a common hysteria of an actual Atom Bomb hitting America. These writers acknowledged that hysteria and basically stuck two fingers up at the establishment and felt ” If we are going to die – at least let’s do it while having a good time!” So seeking kicks and a life full of experience, knowledge. and later a sort of spirituality they made their marks. Kerouac eventually gaining fame for the ultimate road trip novel On The Road, Ginsberg for Howl, and Burroughs for works like The Naked Lunch and Junky they paved the way for a way of looking at the world differently. Yes they were hedonistic, yes they could be shallow, drunk and possibly violent – but equally they were thirsty for knowledge in all areas. Whether it be sex, the colour of the sky on a Rocky Mountain peak, the conversations of strangers – the rhythm of a tune played by one of their Jazz hero’s. It didn’t matter. They had voracious appetites- and I am no different. Whereas they read books by Walt Whitman, Nietzsche, Baudelaire etc. I read the works left to us by the Beats- but like them I want to find wisdom and knowledge from other things also. So I read, write, converse with friends and live as full a life as I am able. For The Beat is not dead. The Cold War has returned. Spy scandals with Russian spies are back. The US and North Korea are attempting to cool or hoodwink the threat of Nuclear war – Europe is chaotic and my own nation is unsure of what it wants to do with itself. So it’s no surprise to me at this moment in time that I find myself having an affinity with writers, and artists I greatly admire. Their work is as relevant now as it was back in the fifties and sixties. I write unashamedly naked poetry that reveals how my mind works. I write spontaneously and with passion. Is my work any good? Only others can say – but opinions are not what I am after. I just tend to live the only way I know how- and my writing is just simply a part of that life. I dream of living a life full of great experiences and being able to write something that resonates – just how Jack’s work resonates with me. Here is one of my poems I wrote recently, a poem that inspired this article
The Existence of A Deadbeat
My life and the way I exist
Or have I got it the wrong way round?
How I exist and live
I seem to be ambling along on a road
Living a life which
Going round corners
That are not upon the road my life depends –
On the off beat
And the upbeat
Like a movie in my mind
Cool cool moments immortalised
On a screen inside my head.
And all the
The molecules enjoy a drive in
And the neutrons skip and skat
With a pa pa pa
The final credits
Will always roll with the wheels
Putt – putt – putting
Through the imagined
Neon of an indignant indigo night.
For life is a personal thing
Allowing directions to create maps
That are full of the purple haze of
A Hendrix confusion.
Only to be travelled
When eyes are open
And the elements
Let themselves be felt
By the way nature
You may think
I’m a Deadbeat
Or that the
Beat is dead
But I tell you this
Are back again
Actually they never even went.
They just didn’t shout for a while
As everyone else tried to travel a golden
No the truth is
The Beat is not dead
For it pounds in my
And I have the heart to
So use your loaf
And wipe that Grime away
A Jean Paul Sartre style nausea
Is pervading the existence of a society
That is drawing upon
The tales of the past
To create new monsters
That shouldn’t exist.
Unless they are revolutionary.
Jason Disley (March 2018)
If you are interested in my books they are available fromAmazon If you wish to leave any comments about any of my blog posts please do. JD.
I am a Jazz fan, so it wasn’t a surprise when I wrote a collection of poetry that is influenced by a musical genre that has endured and still evolves. It was natural as a writer to write about a subject that you enjoy or know.
I was introduced to Jazz music from a young age, My Grandad had been a Jazz pianist, and no doubt was one of the reasons my Grandmother fell in love with him. Now I never knew my Grandad, but his legacy of an interest in music lingers even now. My Father was a fan of Louis Armstrong – thanks to music he was introduced too by his parents. At the age of eleven, because I wanted to impress my Father – I attempted to learn how to play the Trumpet – because of how my Dad would tell me what a fine musician his Father had been. Now -to cut a long story short. Playing the trumpet wasn’t really where my talent is. I do remember practicing for hours trying learn how to play Yankee Doodle Dandy. Simply because it was the tune my music teacher wanted me to learn. I think I may have put my parents off that tune for life! But, as I say, from a young age I was aware of Jazz,music and it’s power, and as I got older so I listened to moreof it. Initially it was Swing and crooners – but as I reached my teens I started to become aware of bebop and musicians such as Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie et al.
I was also reading books by Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, ETC. Jazz age novels also like The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald and then because of the Beats I read The Horn by John Clellon Holmes. The world of Jazz clubs was intriguing and drew me in, and I have enjoyed elements of the Jazz scene ever since. In 2016 I wrote my first book of poetry that is part of a trilogy of music related collections. Jazz Poetry – Improvisations In Language . It is a collection of fairly spontaneous poems written using unusual and sometimes intricate rhythms that emphasise the relationship with jazz. Some of the poems are about musicians, some have subjects that lend themselves to the Jazz world and can be imagined as being spoken with a Jazz backing track. It’s clear to me that Jazz and The Beat Generation have had a great influence on my thought processes and the way I write.
Here is just one of the poems from the book.
Turn your knees,
As fingers hit the keys
Plonk Monk Plonk!
Stiff fingers defy dexterity
Ivories reflected in the shades.
As Round Midnight
Haunts the indigo waves
Blue note Behatted
Bopped the Boppers
And beat everyone else
To the archetypal Beat
That makes walking home
A moment to be wished away.
It don’t mean a thing
If it ain’t got that Plonk!
Plonkity Plonk dizzle dazzle
You know what I mean?
That Cat’s keys are clean.
Jason Disley (2016)
Like jazz loving hip Beatniks of time gone by I have been seduced by an imaginary world of exotic nocturnal sense of coolness. I have evolved as I have got older – but the seduction of jazz and the worlds it creates are still there. The true cross cultural enjoyment of living and finding enjoyment amidst the chaos. The laid back savoir faire of coolness, or the racing rush of adrenaline given by a speeding excitement to the senses by a more upbeat tempo. Yes Jazz gives me enjoyment in some way no matter my mood. Hopefully the poetry in this collection captures that.
The book is available from various online retailers and
The Beat To A Pulp Poetry Project is an experimentation of verse written in the style of a complete and original pulp Fiction tale by Jason Disley. It is a series of forty poems that when read in order they will tell a story.
The story is of a small time crook called Johnny On The Spot, his infatuation for a beautiful female Jazz Singer called Ruby – who is in a relationship with Jack Rabbit Blood the local mobster who really shouldn’t be crossed. Johnny On The Spot decides that he really must be with Ruby and believes that he can only get her by becoming as powerful as Jack Rabbit Blood. What ensues is a tale that is a tale of lust, violence, Jazz and prohibition in an unnamed American city. There is a grizzled Detective too. So all the elements of a great Pulp Fiction story.
Here is the first poem:
Johnny- On -The- Spot
At the Trottery
Dancing on a dime
Dead on time
with enough bread to burn a wet mule
Giggle water washing it down
Gin Mill Cowboys watching on
As the Honky tonk angel clings like a rash
Johnny- On – The -Spot
The Jack Rabbit Blood at the end of the bar.
The Gator revealing a Gat
Time to do a Houdini
Time to Agitate the gravel
Johnny -On – The -Spot
Jazz Baby want’s to jitterbug
Now is not the time to
It’s a natural gas that you can’t
Zig a Zag
Now is not the time to
Shake the polish off your shoes!
Johnny -On – The -Spot
Jack Rabbit Blood
Has got the blast on you
Cut the scene!
You don’t want to be On – The- Spot no more.
It’s a foul up!
From soup to nuts
Gorilla Jack Rabbit Blood
Has a Moth’s chance in a nudist colony
Noodle it out.
Fly it through to endsville
Jack Rabbit Blood
when its his
Johnny -On -The – Spot
Written by Jason Disley
The plan for the project is to eventually get it published with a collection of original images. If you go to The Beat To A Pulp Poetry Project you will find the collection on Facebook, where most of the poems are available to read. Naturally the end has not been revealed yet as this is being withheld until publication.
For now I will close this blog with the second poem within this collection – allowing you another taste of what has been so far a very interesting project and one that will one day be complete and ready to share.