Breaking Silence by Jacob Sam La Rose & Strange Light by Derrick Brown

This is Jacob Sam La Rose's first full collection believe it or not but it's worth the wait as its published by the leading publisher of poetry, 'Blood Axe'. Jacob is a key figure in the UK poetry world as a performer and writer. I caught up with him for a chat about his thoughts on Slam Poetry and why there is a divide between poetry on the page and poetry on the stage.

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This is the forth collection of poetry from US poet Derrick Brown. Derrick Brown is an ex-weatherman, failed magician and paratrooper turned poet. He runs his own publishing house (Write Bloody) and is a key figure in bringing some of the biggest names in performance poetry (such as Buddy Wakefield, Anis Mojgani, Andrea Gibson etc) to the page. I caught up with him in Boardway Market, Hackney for a Boar Burger and a chat about travelling, performing and getting older.

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These interviews are episodes from 'The Punch & Gumption Podcast', run by myself and William Stopha.

Subscribe to hear more from UK poets such as Polarbear, Hollie Mcnish, Inua Ellams, US poets such as Emily Rose, Robb Q Telfer and German poets such as Sebastian 23 & Lars Rupple etc.

Here's a video of Derrick at last months Keats House Forum run by myself and Simon Mole.

NaPoWriMo Day 5. Poem 5. On Being The Sober Guy At The Party

I find it awkward telling people at house parties
I don’t drink.

People never respond well.

They raise their eyebrows,
tilt their head and spill
their words.

oh’ ... erm...

Then they wait for the least awkward moment
to walk away.

No one wants to know the person who will remember them
the next day.

They will tell you about the shame of your night,
you won’t know whether to apologise or wish
you had died.

I’ve seen people at parties strip
deep into the naked night,
I know their names,
I saw them crawl on the floor and bark.

WOOF WOOF! I’M A DOG!

No one is supposed to be there at these times,
everyone should be drunk...
high... or tranquilised.

A boy was sobbing in the quiet corner
of the party.

I’m ugly, I’m ugly, I’m ugly, I’m ugly

He looked like a picture that didn't want to be taken.

I soberly walked over to him and gave him a hug.

No one wants to be hugged by the sober guy at the party,
But there he was, crying into my arms, asking
Why God gave him such big ears?

I cradled him, and waited for the least awkward moment to walk away.