Jack Dean delivers ace performance at the Write Angle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poet, Jack Dean
Write Angle's June, as every month for the past six years, was different. Each gig creates its own particular ambience. There were less people than usual – still more than half – but the room felt 'different'. There's almost a 'pause' as the audience adjusts to 'what's going to happen that evening, that evening, that evening..'. Energy generates, and next thing, open miker Sven Stears tells of 'taking chances'. So a dog bit you...The dog house is a good place to be – Then, 'Road Signs to Rocket Ships'. There's a wanderer in each of us. A house is more than bricks'. Then, Dave Allen, another performance poet gets up, gives financial advice, to sounds of laughter. '..end of capitalism. Take your money out of banks. Hide it behind the sink. To the girl on platform 5, 'three platforms between them. 'now you're gone'. Then, Petersfield (winner in poetry slam) describing the statue of sheep dogs, shepherd, and the sheep being ridden 'with a vengeance'. 'Buy him a bike!'.

Jack Dean, guest performer said, 'I feel like I'm in my living room'. . The inimitable John Smith, returning after a 'break', in his usual 'droll way', had the audience in hysterics. with 'all the things he hadn't done' like 'Britain's Got Talent', a serious poem or haiku, join a choir... . – Michael Usuwana, now 'Mobile Poets', performed 'Deception' and 'Cynthia', angered that she had a child with another man. Michael doesn't write his poetry, 'it's in his head' – not only did he stand up to enthusiastic applause but challenged the audience to suggest words from which he made instant poems. 'Despondency', 'Sex, Money and Rock and Roll', and 'Alligator Shoes'. He didn't pause. A 'natural at the mike!

Matt Westlake played guitar while 'first timer' Amy Beth sang 'Hallelulah'.. Then she played guitar and sang. No amateur here! Her voice is deep, rich, powerful. Beautiful tones. She was professional. Gave it up to have two kids. We hope she comes back. Several people came just to watch but made it obvious they had a great evening. Their enthusiasm matched the beautiful sunset coming in the window. Jilly Funnell played her new steel guitar, while singing about the poet's wife, and she, too, was 'wowed' by the audience! Tim Dawes, Director of Havant Literary Festival, talked about his Festival (Leah will hold a class in creative writing/thinking). He then read a 'depressing poem' about 'getting older' but that, too, didn't turn the spirit of the evening as it was followed by Jake doing his poem about 'Rules' in which he grew up obeying traffic lights, wearing school uniforms, following religious customs. Gave it up for his wife's laugh but is he still hard-wired. Leah followed, with a poem about her husband already saying he's planned on marrying when she's gone'. Brought in much laughter.

Bill Don, determined to perfect his comedy routine, (it's working), read from his 'futuristic' newspaper and told of calling to find out about his car, undergoing repair – and was asked 'are you next of kin'? Dave Allen was called on for an encore and read a poem inspired by the fuel shortage. Name. 'Fighting for the final toilet roll'. Need we say more – as well as 'Metronome Swanger' We share the same street but hear different drum beats'.

Finally, the highly creative guest performer Jack Dean (23) for whom everyone was waiting, took to the stage. With a powerful voice, he pushed the mic aside. Highly confident, competent and intelligent, he possesses a warmth and manages to draw his audience into the imaginary visions of his mind, as he pours one epic poem after another. Phrases like 'Churches bleed gypsy jazz from pulpits'....'every breeze is a poem', 'Don't worry about tacking meanings onto things. Let there be 'maybe' and 'don't know'.. Also, 'They say days and nights chase each in chariots drawn by wild horses'. Jack has performed since he was 15 and while in university

He said he was lucky. His mum used language in a way that made the family have to resort to a dictionary, for which he is grateful. He did a poem about 'boy meets girl'. Pretended to be a clock ticking away time as he acted out their meeting in Woolworth. As she grew, 'her face was painted out by ads and newspapers. She started going with 'punks, poets and piss-heads. Now hangs out with men with PhDs. And how she wanted to travel. He travelled as well – 'breaking the hormonal vows made to each other.' She went around the world His travels took him to Dorset, Cornwall. He returned a hero. She, a Christian – believing in rules while he believed in fairies at the bottom of his garden. 'I believe we were sky people once', he goes on. 'I drove and drove under halos of fog and rain, hoping to escape my thoughts and ended up crashed into lazy flora and my own mistakes'. It was hard not to listen and be mesmerised by Jack's metaphorical use of language. So much emotion, power. 'Never measure yourself by the work you do or your salary. Measure it by your pakman score! It's amazing how he pulls words and images from the air with such ease. 'A giant dung beetle pushes the sun;'.Jack has now written a book called 'Poems of Grown Up Children' and suggests you look up his website to obtain a copy.

Jack came all the way from Exeter – 'when I made the commitment to come to Write Angle, I was living in London. I had no idea a year later, I'd be 3 hours away!' Jack was working on a play, Rain' and he performed from it. Wonderfully imaginative and poetic. He plans to have it produced in October, we think. (to be looked up on the web)

Write Angle was grateful to be able to enjoy Jack's talent.. He has already been to NY and won the slam in a 'difficult group'. You can't keep him down. His voice didn't require a mike any more than his poetry required anything other than encores! Write Angle might have had half the crowd it normally does, but it had at least, the same if not more enthusiasm in the room. It was a very good evening – with a lot of great talent. Jack Dean – a young man already living the beginning of a bright and successful future.