It is performance poetry but with the emphasis on performance - no dour mumbling from the page here. Ant and Mel are both powerful and engaging performers with material that pushes boundaries and guarantees laughs a plenty - as well as something worth talking about in the bar after.
It is showing daily at 1PM from the 13th to the 18th of August 2012.
Venue 309
The Royal Oak, 1 Infirmary Street, off South Bridge, Edinburgh, EH1 1LT
About Ant (The GameCat) Smith
Live Recording: PUNK ROCK
This one was number 1 in the Strummerville download chart:Punk Rock Live
Studio Recording: Plaything
As arranged by Ms. Terry Mishun with accompanying performance photographs:Poem: States Of Matter-imony
I keep vacuum bags I've filled
With the dust that fell from you
Wet my finger tip and dip
Sherbet fountain, tasty bits
I store the tears that were spilled
When I disappointed you
I like to bathe when they're distilled
Salty crystals are my pills
Gas or liquid or solid, you are
Lovable in a bag, or in a jar
Anyone can love, tits or arse
Lips or looks or
Thoughts or fucks
I bottle odours you release
In the night time, in your sleep
Nothing smells to me so sweet
As you do under sheets
Gas or liquid or solid, you are
Lovable in a bag, or in a jar
Anyone can love
Flesh and such
I love you
To your guts
About Mel (Filth) Jones
It's taken a long time for Mel Jones to fully accept that she is a filthy, foul-mouthed and perverse woman. Pushing 50, she has spent the majority of her life pigging-out, shagging for kicks, smoking, drinking and spectacularly failing to write and perform poems.
Recently there has been a marked improvement in that she now writes and performs poems. Most of these evidence a strong attraction to the lewd, crude and absurd, although she has been known to explore much more profound subjects such as Lembit Opik and even chicken.
Mel has worked as a cleaner, bingo caller, check-out operator, props maker, jazz singer, counsellor and dominatrix. She was mostly rubbish.
http://jessica-lambert.com/2012/04/12/feature-erotic-literary-salon/
delivers poems as unashamedly raunchy as they are hilarious. From her rousing celebration of homemade porn to her coquettishly brilliant comic timing, Ms Jones is a delight.
delivers poems as unashamedly raunchy as they are hilarious. From her rousing celebration of homemade porn to her coquettishly brilliant comic timing, Ms Jones is a delight.
www.eroticreviewmagazine.com/content/velvet-tongue
It was poet Mel Jones, however, who stood out as one of the heroes of the evening with her clever wordplay and a natural stage presence. Often ironic but generally good-natured, her laughs frequently came a second or two later as the double entendre hit home with the audience.
www.remotegoat.co.uk/review_view.php?uid=6555
Mel Jones has an amazing stage presence and warns us: 'Just so you know before we start' and 'Fuck me if you think you are hard enough' (have you ever thought of stand up comedy, Mel?)
To start off with, the ice was broken by our hilarious M.C. for the evening, comedian Mel Jones, who ultimately reminded us how lucky we all were to be safe in the UK. In many senses she was the star of the show; in between all the acts, however harrowing, she somehow had the audience in stitches!
http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/eventview.php?eventID=8156&day=10&month=04&year=2012
rollicking and gloriously filthy verses, and wonderful jazz voice.
Live Performance Video
Poem: Fuck Me (If You Think You're Hard Enough)
I don’t fall in love
I obsess
My infantile heart was lost
The moment we undressed
My fantasy of you and me
Grew quicker than your cock
The first time you saw my tits.
My soul is in bits
Just awaiting that next call from you
Who, let’s face it, I don’t know at all
And who couldn’t possibly have guessed
That my ‘Yes’ could mean all this
But there’s no need to piss yourself,
Don’t stress
Each time we fuck,
The obsession’ll get a little bit less
I know myself
So the trick is, obviously,
To fuck me cock-eyed
That’s the key
Fuck me till I squawk.
If you want the stalker in me
To die a little death
Fuck me till I haven’t any breath
Till I’m distraught
Otherwise, I'm dangerous
So muster your defences
And roger me so hard that I come
To my senses
Take me repeatedly
Until I boo and hiss your length and breadth
Until soft tissues bruise
And use up all the heat in me
Fuck me till I'm nothing but a sticky
Oozing mess
Of juice and jizz
Fuck me until I refuse to kiss you.
That kind of frequency and depth
Is therapy for me
And for you
It’s a fairly urgent health and safety issue
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