TUEBINGEN - POETRY & MUSIC AT WEINHAUS BECK

Join me with other poets and musicians in Tuebingen on Thursday 3rd April 20.30 at Weinhaus Beck, Am Markt 1 

SHILDON STEAM!

NORTH TYNESIDE STEAM!

Hi friends!
We are working on a new publication commissioned by North Tyneside Council. We are looking for some poetry and prose on the theme of George Stephenson in Killingworth with particular reference to his steam engine Blucher which he built in 1814 (bicentenary).

Please see what you can do. Deadline is end of March and publication is planned for July. Send to: k.armstrong643@btinternet.com

Best wishes,
Keith

SPENCE 200

On the site of Thomas Spence (1750-1814) 'Hive of Liberty' bookshop, Little Turnstile, Holborn, London 
Photos/film: Peter Dixon

Spence's most ambitious production, which bore the imprint of ‘The Hive of Liberty, No. 8 Little Turnstile, High Holburn,’ was entitled ‘Pigs' Meat or Lessons from the Swinish Multitude collected by the Poor Man's Advocate.’ (1793, 1794, 1795).

PIGS' MEAT

“Learning will be cast into the mire and trodden down under the hoofs of a swinish multitude.” (from Edmund Burke’s ‘Reflections on the Revolution in France’)

We are the swinish multitude,

Who feed off the Loose Meat,

Our brains are bacon,

Our balls pork chops,

We honk instead of speak.

We’re pigs’ meat,

Pigs' meat,

We wallow in our muck.

Our snouts deep in the stinking trough,

We don’t give a toss.

Pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We riot in the street.

Pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We piss on the elite.

We are the swinish multitude,

With sties that blind our eyes.

No sense of direction,

Just one big erection,

We bonk instead of think.

We’re pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We wallow in our muck.

Our snouts deep in the stinking trough,

We don’t give a toss.

Pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We riot in the street.

Pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We piss on the Elite.

We are the swinish multitude,

Incapable of speeches,

We drink royal blood,

We eat the rich,

We fart in Halls of Art.

We’re pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We wallow in our muck.

Our snots deep in the stinking trough,

We don’t give a toss.

Pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We riot in the street.

Pigs’ meat,

Pigs’ meat,

We piss on the Elite.

KEITH ARMSTRONG

THE HIVE OF LIBERTY

(AFTER THE NAME OF THOMAS SPENCE’S BOOKSHOP AT 8 LITTLE TURNSTILE, HOLBORN)

I am a small and humble man,

my body frail and broken.

I strive to do the best I can.

I spend my life on tokens.

I traipse through Holborn all alone,

hawking crazy notions.

I am the lonely people’s friend.

I live on schemes and potions.

For, in my heart and in my mind,

ideas swarm right through me.

Yes, in this Hive of Liberty,

my words just flow like wine,

my words just flow like wine.

I am a teeming worker bee.

My dignity is working.

My restless thoughts swell like the sea.

My fantasies I’m stoking.

There is a rebel inside me,

a sting about to strike.

I hawk my works around the street.

I put the world to rights.

For, in my heart and in my mind,

ideas swarm right through me.

Yes, in this Hive of Liberty,

my words just flow like wine,

my words just flow like wine.

KEITH ARMSTRONG

WITH VLADIMIR MAYAKOVSKY IN MOSCOW, 1980!

Photo: Tony Whittle

FROM A SWAHILI PHRASEBOOK

That's a really beautiful video, Keith, very moving indeed, and I loved your lyric and poem contribution. It really is very well put together and quite haunting. Thanks for sharing. - Noel Duffy (Dublin poet)

FOR PATRICIA

Is it the optimist in me

that remembers you for your smile?

Out there in a cruel Northumberland

there is a sun

behind the Army tanks at Otterburn

if you strain your eyes

to face it.

Often it seems

so pointless;

our pathetic scribblings

amongst all the sordid agony

of this poisoned world.

But you made me think

that my little trembling efforts 

were so much worthwhile.

For that, I humbly thank you 

and, when I am down again,

your well remembered smile

will touch me

from the heavens

and make me want to sing.

KEITH ARMSTRONG