In rehearsal and in the play this evening a bat flew down from the rafters. It dived in and out of the stage lights casting shadows around me like dark ribbons . It circled me and then disappeared – a spirit chased by an invisible kite runner   more »

I met a gentle heroine of mine - Cathy Tyson a wonderful actor who recently visited Ethiopia and whom I have secretly been a fan of for many years. She said she was a fan of mine too. But I am sure she was just being nice.   more »

So what does it take for jewish writer Kurt Weill to choose such contentious subject matter and explore it within this populist format. Imagine a musical today on a story in Rawanda or Bosnia. It wouldn’t happen in the west end.   more »

It’s a good day. At the end I cycle home and as I pass an alleyway a guy with dreadlocks and white hat runs out into the road across it and away. I saw him throw something. It was a purse. Thieves take out the credit cards and throw the evidence away. I stop on the road and take my bike up the alleyway. Maybe there was some woman in shock! I look up the narroway a white stocky man with a walkytalky is running towards me   more »

Today The Journalist and I went to see Marcus Brigstock’s SUNDAY ROAST at The Udderbelly on The Southbank. It was hilarious.   more »

The Poetry Society has just created its first ever viral video! The video is being used to promote the Foyle Young Poets of the Year competition for which I am a selector. The deadline is for entries on 31st July 2009. The Poetry Society is celebrating its centenary this year and hopes that in 2009 as many young people as possible will get involved with the UK’s leading poetry competition! Watch the video here:   http://tinyurl.com/nh4bxj

 

At four am my eyelids roll back and morning pours in. By four forty five am I received a text “your car is outside and the driver is called Alfred.” I could hear it purring outside the front door. At 5am we sped through London to Bush House and The World Service. I used the journey for supplementary research on the news stories for The World Today.   more »

“excuse me” I asked. Brian continued his discussion. Unmoving he held up a leaflet for me to take. I held out my hand in the the manner to say no thanks and said “no thanks”. But brian didn’t move “Would you take a leaflet” he replied still holding the leaflet. “No thanks” I replied “I noticed your attitude earlier ” he said. I paused to let his words settle. Did he just say that.   more »

I have had the honour to read alongside Patti Smith twice before. Once at the Southbank and once as part of Cries from The Heart where Smith had the audience both in the palm of her hand and on their feet in ovation.   more »

I danced when you sang laughed when you lept Waited for you to come home, screamed when you left You. Take your secrets to your death, It is not for me to forgive nor forget.   more »

but the dentist noticed a wisdom tooth that had to come out. This was the most stressful job of all. It took fifteen to twenty minutes and two different plyers. His winching and wincing heavy breathing and huffing and puffing surrounded me as my head yanked from side to side.   more »

Yesterday my teeth were in so much pain after the treatment when the numbness wore off that I felt like punching myself in the mouth as a distraction. Though this was an appealing thought it was ultimately a bad idea so stood like a boxer in the mirror I convinced myself not to do it.   more »

I am led into a room were 27 year old Anita stands. We smile at each other and make jokes for the next hour while Anita, who obviously loves her job which is good, scratches s away at my teeth to get them basically clean and ready for the main work. The equipment is state of the art. But pain has an age old tradition of hurting.   more »

The sun belted down. Couples lay back to catch rays while children hop skipped and jumped over them. Icecreams wobbled in procession like the beehives of a thousand screaming beatles fans. Children racing from a Jaqueline Wilson event to the bookshop. And the green room was its usual assortment of goodies.   more »

I shall now be on the radio most of the night. That's two performances, a book signing, five hundred miles and six hours travelling, two countries and one meeting in a seventeen hour day. Done.   more »

The stage area from were the evening is presented is beneath a suspended airplane. The hall is that big. This museum is incredible and to be here is also incredible. By seven thirty the musicians and I are sat at our respective tables and the nobel laureates and scientists too. They arrived from a day discussing climate change with Prince Charles at St James Palace.   more »

The symbolism of the performance in this area on this day is not lost on me. The complex racial politics in today’s cape town need bridges and tunnels. The centre is packed and the welcome warm. I have three minutes on stage alongside all the poets. It is the finale.    more »

His story is like Tupac’s. But she was there. There’s no iconography just a brother who went to help his father who was being beaten by some drunk boys on the corner. I wonder if heaven's got a ghetto   more »

On the first day I noticed a dark bruise on her right wrist. It was the bruise of a gripping hand. Each day I’d watched her and wondered how such a circular bruise could happen. Only a grip.   more »

It was a beautiful event to be a part of. “It wasn’t you on stage tonight” said a woman afterwards “the spirit got you and took you. It wasn’t you.” After the event I rushed outside for air.   more »

As we mingle outside the centre two Xhosa men, Imbongi, in traditional dress cloth thrown over their shoulders cloth wrapped around their waists trailing to the ground and bare strong arms. They stand with clubs in hand and scream a blood curdling scream – their first words. The language is Xhosa. We stand in awe and silence. They thrust the clubs forward into the air.   more »

They are my family, my poems, and I a proud father stand back as the audience applauds them. The applause sounds like rain, like tropical rain.   more »

Lorelle and Malika the festival directors tap their glasses and walk up to a microphone that appeared from nowhere. They welcome us all and rounds of applause are given to various notables who “helped make the festival what it is”. We are ready for coffee “One more thing” Lorelle says. “today is the birthday of one of our guest poets”. I sit stunned.   more »

The plane swoops out to sea and back inland displaying to perfection the concave of dramatic cape mountains and coast. Cape Town.   more »

Saturday is just what I want it to be: a day to relax.   more »

This morning at 8.10am my friend of nearly twenty years the tv producer and presenter David Akinsanya and I cycle the regents canal to Angel Islington. We are here to meet Clare Tickell and Vivien Fowle of Action for Children.   more »

If I don’t hear about an author I assume he or she is writing. If he or she is writing then I assume he or she is in the blush of success before hitting the cold open air of the market. It is this counter intuitive impulse that can see a writers success. The industry rolls on like a river. And though it is easy to say it is a fast river. It is another view to see that the rocks that take hundreds of years to form themselves into an ever widening turret are where the work is really done, is being done.   more »

He frowns sympathetically at my clumsy attempt to hide nerves “So we take out two of your teeth. If you feel pain hold your left hand up. You will feel the needle, a little scratch”. He nods when he talks but the hungarian accent is soothing. In moments my mouth feels like a rubber attachment.   more »

Having had an enjoyable and enlightening meet with Jude Kelly the artistic director it’s time enough for me to go, as I turned the key in the lock a woman stopped. She was panting and in some distress. “can you tell me the way to the artist entrance?” she says in a high pitched accent that I couldn’t fail to recognise.   more »

Myself and David are men who spent all of our childhoods in care. We are invited to the book launch by one of England’s finest writers whom we both met yesterday in different circumstances. AS Byatt’s novel is called The Childrens Book.   more »

After each visit from Margaret which took place in the sports hall I was strip searched. I was a child that had been in care for seventeen years is all. It was a harrowing institution. We had to walk the corridors in size order.   more »

I wake at 7am and spin down to the Southbank centre for 9.30am to meet an old friend whom I haven’t seen for ten years. Her name is Sally Gross and she is head of the Music Business Management MA of Westminster University. Sally is an extraordinary person. She also manages Gotanproject   more »

I heard the film was being shown followed by a question and answer session with Samantha Morton chaired by Rageh Omar. I called Simon Hattenstone last week to see if I could get tickets. And I called Rageh too. Simon called Samantha who got me tickets for tonight   more »

I'm on the plane. For two reasons I didn’t turn to the person next to me and say “my father was a pilot and he died in a plane crash” . Firstly It isn’t as sociable as I think it is and secondly people don’t believe me anyway. The plane skids into Heathrow Airport at 9am, two hours later than scheduled.   more »

Whereas in England the burger is a take out snack, in America it is a national dish and this is the best burger joint in new york. I am lucky to have Mehatem as my brother. It’s been ten years that he has known about me and twenty that I have known about him. We say goodbye over fries and diet coke. I expect this is how brothers do it.   more »

I am passed a toy guitar and sit on the floor with my back to the couch to master my instrument. I am being initiated into the band. One unholy racket of discordant music and full laughter fills the house for the next hour. They are The Young family.   more »

I meet my very good friend Dana Bryant. It’s 10am and we meet at Soho’s Bleecker Street Theatre. An exhilarating one hour and an half later and we are outside speeding through Manhattan rain to a cafe.   more »