Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Poetry Bus - driverless

No one's driving the bus this week - anarchy reigns! So what better poem than a memory of a nightclub where anarchy first became reality in my own little head anyway... This place was legendary, and was knocked down a few years back - I think the other passengers might be found on NanU's blog here


Henry’s

.

A dirty wall sweating and dark endless place

The rhythms the friendship the fire

The smoking in corners, the girl off her face

Toilet Mags handing rags to the choir

The puking in sinks, the spilling of drinks,

And dancing of limbs that were crazily light

The pulsing of shapes, the laughs, the mistakes

The typical mad Henry’s night

The mud on your back, lollipop in your hair

A kerb that you sat on outside it

Made friends with a whole world each friday night

An innocence that never died

And they knocked it, destroyed it, demolished it down

Full of drugs, full of song, such a low reputation

And the bouncers were thugs, and us all only mugs

Getting sucked in along the sensation

Of the music, the money, but twas only one P

Some nights and we went in pyjamas

It was dirty and rough, but we sure did fly free

‘mongst the beer, and the mud, and the dramas

20 comments:

Rachel Fox said...

Only one girl off her face... see, we went to different places!
x

Totalfeckineejit said...

yeehaw! and yahoo! And bulid it back up again!This reminds me of Johnny Cash 'A boy named Sue' at the end, something of 'the mud and the blood and the beer' about it. Coolty!

Niamh B said...

Ha Rachel - only one that got a mention - doesn't mean there weren't others.

I did steal the mud and the blood and the beerness didn't I TFE? See I do know some songs.

Helen said...

You managed to bring the 'Henrys' of my youth to life ... though mine were in the 50's/60's ... not quite as intense...(I think.)

Emerging Writer said...

That was such a great, optimistic feeling making friends with the world every Friday night. Why did that peter out?

Louise said...

Do I take it that the theme is nightclubs? I wud enter blog world when the bus is driverless!!!

Niamh B said...

Thanks Helen, from what I've heard of the 60's yours were almost just as intense! :-)
EW - I don't know, this particular place was special for it, wednesdays and fridays
120 socks - no theme this week - since the driver seems to have abdicated the seat - therefore we're all just doing whatever we want. I'm driving next week - so will have ticket details up on Tuesday

Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...

Nice Niamh. I think we must have hung out at some of the same places on those Friday nights of (for me) long long ago.

Titus said...

Took me straight there, and then to the memory of other clubs in other places and other times. And that's art.
And lovely, lovely sound-y poem!

Colm Keegan said...

Love this

Niamh B said...

Thanks Lorenzo - I should mention too it was actually Wednesdays were the best nights, but that didn't work rhythm wise! (and they were long enough ago for me too!)
Aw, Thanks Titus, glad you enjoyed the trip - twas a really special sort of place.
Thanks Uisce - very kind. :-)

The Bug said...

I knew I missed out by being a good Baptist girl :) Actually, I couldn't (safely) dance & didn't like alcohol or loud noises so there didn't seem to be a point. Now, a Trivial Pursuit game down at the college dive, THAT was a good time LOL. I was (was?) such a nerd!

My word verif. is "blersed." That's what I am - a blessed nerd. Heh.

Domestic Oub said...

Great bloody poem! Captures that scene so perfectly.

Niamh B said...

Thanks Bug - Trivial Pursuit sounds exciting now! I am in the midst of a very difficult jigsaw at home which is absorbing much of my free time.
And thanks muchly Oub :-)

Enchanted Oak said...

Ah, we had a few Henry's types here in California, to which we've had to wave a fond farewell. This is a fine tribute.

Niamh B said...

Tks Oak, sorry to hear yours have dissappeared too. They were special places.

Jinksy said...

Reminds me of a pub called The Star, where we used to go to a trad jazz club to listen to Acker Bilk, way back in my student days...

Niamh B said...

glad to have brought back happy memories
:-)

Peter Goulding said...

Great little rhythms and rhymes all through this homage to youth. (Possibly could lose the 'it' after 'outside'??)
Please tell me you never went in pyjamas.

Niamh B said...

Good point on the "it" Peter.
And yes, when one is woken up from one's bed and has to go clubbing on a cold winter's night, Pj's under clothes are the only reasonable option.
Didn't half get hot dancing tho...