71. Johnny Solstice
A wild looking Scotsman in Yorkshire with a life full of experience and a rich turn of phrase.
John Soltys formerly performed as Johnny Solstice due to people’s difficulty in pronouncing his name. Based in Leeds from 1986, he was a regular at the Grove Inn open mike sessions, with his Scottish accent and wild appearance, being famous for his rap poem Pop Mewsick.
He performed at various venues around Leeds such as Café Moderna with Jean Binta Breeze, and at Dr Wu’s opening for Jon Gomm, who called him a lyrical genius. He has also appeared many times alongside his friend Rory McLeod, from Stroud to Solfest via the Northern Green Gathering.
His performance and writing addresses political and environmental themes, and the darker side of the British establishment, from his experiences in central London in the late 1960s, as a runaway from domestic abuse.
He has run creative writing workshops for Leeds City Council, and worked in professional travel and advertising photography, which he continues to this day to use in his art.
Poems
Whose Fingers are These?
Whose fingers are these Tapping these keys? I'm not sure… the bones, the flesh But who is the person...? I get glimpses but no detail No real substance, places, names, times….. just glimpses, little flashes….. Who is this person? Is he some Bob Pirsig clone, Destroyed by order of a court? Enforced by the transmission of high-voltage alternating current through The lobes of the brain. Approx 800mills of amperage at durations of 0.5 to 1.5seconds appllied on 28 consecutive occassions in a proccess known technologically as"Annihilation ECT" A whole person has been killed I have never met him I never will Though he must be here Still looking on…….. Watching what I'm doing with the remains of his body Little glimpses….. Little flashes….. Sparks….. Like the fleeting blue of a Kingfisher He's still in there…… Anarchic Destructive Uncontrollable He doesn't care much for this "new me" All bloody lah-di-dah and PC Who's fingers are these Tapping these keys? He wants me to be outrageous I must hold it together He wants me to kill this personality And get another…… " Better shock next time" He repeats endlessly as if the phrase holds some humour Who's fingers are these? <<<
I Was
I am a young man stealing time and sunlight from the gods I am an old man refusing to pray or pay for more life I am a caged animal trying to break free so as to kill my captors I am an elderly man missing his libido, so that I may I may violate parakeets I am a writer of poetry that refuses to rhyme except in the darkest of verses I am a painter of beauty using blood, mud and faeces these are therapeutic tho' inevitably banal I am a sculptor of onyx and jade using pen-nib chisels and toothpicks my work is no longer available tho' oft mentioned by my detractors I am a powder blue dragon <<<
Outlaw
There's an outlaw hiding-out inside of me He waits in ambush, till I think I'm free Then swift as lightning on the darkest night He's right beside me, putting out my light Yeah there's a desperado deep inside of me He waits in darkness till I think I'm free Then draws my hand toward the sharpened knife To kill me cold, to give himself new life There's a danger lurking deep within my heart That forces me to always live apart It flashes red and black and back again It turns my inner sunshine into rain I know that somewhere deep within my soul There lurks an angel, wings as black as coal He guides me into swamps and burning seas And only when I weep does he seem pleased And if I ever meet me... This I know The tears I've shed will blow like blizzard snow Then turn to sand and swirl into the sun And red all rivers with my blood shall run There's an outlaw hiding-out inside of me He waits in ambush, till I think I'm free <<<
Coded Language
starfish we were, and golden eyed strings of memory, before ever we cried starfish we were, two snakes entwined coded language, divinity enshrined. starfish we were, Five pointed stars from the heart of the apple, Venus and Mars starfish we were, all connected together fractals reduced to the vein of a feather starfish we were, from our toes to our hands our DNA helix in the quartz of the sands from mountain to sea-bed and up to the stars the heart of our matter, of how we’ve come far starfish we were, there’s no going back what we desire, is not what we lack starfish we were and golden eyed coded language, divinity enshrined <<<
Bilsdean Creek 1960
down Bilsdean creek where fresh and salt water meet the bladderwrack rehydrating incoming tide chases tiny trout upstream to the overhanging hazel branch sanctuary of dappled dancing sunlight where they flit back and forth under the ever watchful kingfisher shimmering blue glints of nervous anticipation by whelk denuded tidal pools, Freddy the refugee with his rusty bike, tin can kettle and bent safety pin waits patiently for his stream water to boil a hip flask of vinegar and folded envelope of pepper are produced with theatrical flourish from a tattered baling twine belted overcoat and placed on the rock from Fife the haunting groans of the fog horns echo around the mist cloaked cliffs where Glasgow boys once set up their easels and squeezed red ochre onto palettesse of roof slate to sing praises to nature the water boils in the smoke blackened tin can the mussels open in surrender among the whelks the tide inches forward grinding empty shells to sand <<<
COPD
The ghost of a long dead lover is squatting on my chest Her name contains more syllables than I have breath for When young she weighed no more than a wren’s feather As the years pass she becomes more of a turkey So much white meat and butterball wheezing I cough the first syllable of her name repeatedly <<<
I really enjoyed your poetry! 'Coded language' really spoke to me, as I am especially fond of the magic of the sea. COPD was very clever. Particularly love the last two lines!