Martin Appleby- A Poem For John

WHEN YOU HEAR THE BELL

THERE'S NOWEHERE TO HIDE

for John D Robinson

 

 

You're the straightest shooter I know

able to craft the crispest, most succinct

lines I have ever read

 

You took a liking to me

and I am grateful for that

 

I don't know what you saw in me

but I like to think that maybe it was a little of yourself

 

You have seen a lot

and you have been through even more

and survived it all

 

You have helped so many others

without expecting anything in return

 

In a world full of ego and hubris

you are a kind and selfless soul

 

and these words are the least I can offer

not because you are my friend

but simply because they are all true

 

You may have heard the bell

but the fight is not over

 

the bell is about to sound for the second round

so get your chin down, get your gloves up

and keep throwing that jab.

A Note About the Poem

I received this message today from Martin Appleby, "I don't know if you have heard through the grapevine, but our friend John D Robinson is currently very unwell. He had a massive brain aneurysm and is receiving treatment in hospital. He is on the road to recovery, but it is a long road. I wrote this poem for him, which I have attached, and figured Bold Monkey would be a good place to put it out." 

Featuring Martin Appleby

WISDOM

 

 

I thought you were supposed

to grow wiser as you grow older?

Is that just a fallacy?

A myth that people tell themselves

to trick the brain into believing it?

I am either wise to the con

or my own brain has double bluffed

itself into believing it to be a con,

because I am none the fucking wiser

than I was at any point before.

If I could go back in time and give

my fifteen year old self some advise

it would be to not listen to advise

because most of it is bollocks - 

what a catch twenty two that would be:

to take the advice and forgo any other

or forgo it and listen to the rest.

Fuck. I told you I wasn't fucking wise.

In all honesty, if I could go back now

and re-do this whole life thing again

I would drink more, party harder,

take more drugs, and probably 

not make it to the age that I am now.

Wisdom is in the imagination of the older.

 

 

 

 

SOBER

 

 

I would probably give up 

drinking if it were not for

annoying “sober” people

preaching about how sober they are -

and this is no sleight against

recovering addicts -

but people that used to drink casually

and decided to stop

and now act high and mighty

sitting atop their high horse

looking down at those of us

who still drink casually.

You'd think they were on the brink

of the abyss and pulled themselves

back from the edge.

My biggest fear is that I, too 

would become one of those people

like ex-smokers that love telling you

how easy it was for them to quit

or vegans that remind you constantly

that they're vegan yet they were

the same ones that used to mock you

for being vegetarian as they

polished off plates of meat -

they can all get in the fucking sea.

 

 

 

 

 

WASTER

 

 

I am wasting away

under a pile of waste

my brain space

wasted, taken up

with wasteful thoughts

and witty retorts

for insults I lambaste

myself with

This waste land is treacherous

one false move

one wasted motion

could so quickly

compromise its integrity

and how easy it would be

for the twisted part of me 

to watch the whole thing collapse

again

watch everything crash and burn

as if I haven't learned

a thing

what a waste

this journey would have been.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bio: Martin Apleby is a punk, poet, vegetarian, cider drinking scumbag from Hastings, England. He edits Paper and Ink Literary Zine and runs Scumbag Press – scumbagpress.co.

New Release: John D. Robinson TOO MANY DRINKS AGO (Paper and Ink Literary Zine, 2018) 30 pages

This chapbook consists of twenty gritty alternative small press poems by the Hastings, UK writer John D. Robinson. He writes with empathy and compassion about the sad, fucked up- and often short lives- of people he has encountered.

Here's an example:

ORANGE SKY

Beneath the orange skies,
like a speeding spinning
roulette-wheel of chance
or fate, workers made
their way home to food
and comforts of a family
as he fell backwards
30ft down onto the
basement concrete,
his back and skull
broken and death came
swiftly and he was
already numbed from
the world with cheap
rot-gut cider and the
songs of a hopeless
future:
the orange sky gave
way to dusk as the
sounds of a harsh
scrubbing brush
could be heard
ridding the red blood
from the concrete.

(reprinted with the permission of the poet)

Buy the book here: https://www.paperandinkzine.co.uk/product/too-many-drinks-ago-by-john-d-robinson

Not only do you get 30 pages of poetry but also a bonus beer coaster featuring one of Robinson’s poems together with a hand-made collage and all for only 5 quid. There's more: you also get 2 Poems-For-All micro-books by Paper and Ink Literary Zine editor Martin Appleby.

HOLY&INTOXICATED PUBLICATIONS POETRY CARDS SERIES 3 April 2017

Editor John D. Robinson writes: This series is firing full-blast on all 5 cylinders with 3 legendary poets from the USA;

Gerald Nicosia (author of  ‘Memory Babe: a critical biography of Jack Kerouac)  ‘the definitive work on the life and writings of Jack Kerouac’ A poet of extraordinary depth’  ‘has been blessing the literary pages for 3 decades and more.’

Rob Plath (Has been a presence in the underground poetry for over 25 years and has published poetry all over the world and has many chapbook publications to his name)   ‘A poet of tough versatility: simply put, quality’

Alan Catlin  (Has been a presence in the underground poetry for many years and has published over sixty chapbooks and full length books of prose and poetry, his poetry appears all over the world) ‘A poet that can reach clear across the boundaries with ease.’

and two poets from the UK:

Martin Appleby (Poet and Publisher: Paper & Ink Zine:  some of his poetry has been collected in ‘Worse Things Happen At Sea: Selected Poems’; his work appears widely in the small press and online literary journals: "Martin Appleby is a much needed new poetical voice. Here are poems from the margins, poems from the cultural hinterland, poems from unrequited lovers of the world.’

John D Robinson (Poet and Publisher: Holy&intoxicated Publications: he has published 2 chapbooks of poetry: ‘When You Hear The Bell, There’s Nowhere To Hide’ ‘Cowboy Hats & Railways’ his work appears widely in the small press and online literary publications:

‘A poet, a hard read, a visceral read, with no pretty images, in other words, no bullshit.’

A poem from each contributing poet:

for Lenore Kandel (1932-2009)

Lenore

Smiling

Gentle

Keeping her genius quiet

So that only a few knew

Her heart large

Her suffering long

Her patience endless

Her love unbreakable

Could never say no

Must have embraced death

Like a lover

My only sadness

That the new joys she’s found

Will never be told

To us

In yet another poem

© 2017 Gerald Nicosia

bloody love

all my loves have gone away

only my demons show devotion

they’re always arriving

w/ a bouquet of dark horns

to pierce my heart

© 2017    Rob Plath

Images by Patti Smith

Mundane objects imbued

with deep, personal meaning:

Bolano’s writing chair,

Hesse’s decrepit writing machine,

Virginia Woolf’s tarnished

walking stick,

Jim Carroll’s narrow, single bed,

Fred Smith’s recovered childhood toy;

all their owners gone. A woman

with a camera remembering.

© 2017 Alan Catlin

WHY IS YOUR MOUSTACHE SHORTER THAN THE 

REST OF YOUR BEARD?

I woke up

with a split lip

a busted nose

and no memory

Dried blood

congealed

and matted

in my moustache

The bastard stuff

wouldn't shift

without ripping

hair from root

Another day

on the front line

in the war

against myself

© 2017 Martin Appleby

WITHOUT A THREAD

The next time I saw Eddie

he said to me

‘Fuck man!

I’ve never woken up

amongst so many

fucked up naked bodies

in one apartment

and when some drunken

clown rang your

door bell at 4am

and you got up and

answered the door

not knowing or

caring who it was

without a thread on

I knew why some

call you ‘Long John’

‘Trick of the light’

I said smiling,

‘make it a Jim Beam’

‘Okay’ Eddie said.

©2017 John D Robinson