Everyday Poetry

We had a really talented artist on board who who gave us presentations on Cuba, music and art genres. Robin Ross has led a colourful life starting on pirate radio and ending with hanging out with urban Street artists all over the world.  The talk that led to this poem was about pop art, a genre I hadn't previously thought much of.  A crowd of white folding chairs line up on the dance floor Waiting in front of a giant cartoon face shouting "Listen up!" The screen comes alive: real life writ large, Found, altered images, screen printed, The same image, slightly different each time, Marilyn's multicoloured magnificence, Each repetition a revelation. Images reduced to dots Wham! Bam! Popular culture, collaged kitsch, Juxtaposed with irony, political statements So detailed, so simple, so clever, Each a jab, a right hook against convention, A rewrite of accepted pop culture.  You had me at the soup cans.  © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

I took a copy of Writing Magazine away on holiday,  and this came out of one of the exercises. It reflects on my changing tastes when listening to the radio.   Teenaged Friday nights Soaking in the bath Bubbles teased up into peaks I listened to the charts on pirate radio Getting into the mood before the disco.  Late nights in digs Laying languidly in bed Covers tangled into waves I listened to the Shopping Forecast Before Sailing By into sleep.  Afternoons away from a new baby Decorating our first house Trestle tables, paper, paint,  A cheeky packet of fags, I transformed as I danced to Radio 1. Early morning commutes  Stuck fast in traffic Worrying about what the day would hold Dreaming of escape routes I listened to the dulcet tones of Terry Wogan. These days I prefer silence Except for those days when, with a coffee after lunch I chose poetry, plays, podcasts,  Whatever, always available, whenever I want, To catch up on BBC Sounds.  © Cop...

Most of the time we were in the Caribbean the ship was able to dock in port,  but in Santiago de Cuba and Grand Cayman we had to moor up in deeper water and travel to shore by tender boat.  I rather enjoyed this extra boat trip but it wasn't universally popular as there was inevitably a delay before boarding.   Impatient to get going,  to explore each new island on this Caribbean odyssey  our tour guide's announcement prompts ripples of groans. They moan as if it's his choice,  his fault,  they're missing half an hour of their time onshore.  When the rope is lifted the crowd surges forward,  Pushing their way to the front For the best seats, for the best view,  Closest to the exit, to be the first to set foot On this strange new land.   © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

Going on a cruise to Cuba and the Caribbean brings it home to you how privileged we are compared to those we visit to see the sights.   Lying in the sun, lounging afternoons away, Sifting memories, casting expectations, Listening to voices exclaiming, declaiming, Laughing, moaning, groaning,  In accents brash, broad and broken, Feeling so lucky to be on board a ship  On a lazy sunfilled afternoon, And not living on one of those islands Where we only get to see their sunny side. © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

When we were in Cuba, we went to two night clubs.  At each, after introducing the next act of song, the master of ceremonies called out to the audience "applause,  applause!" -  applause rhyming with cows. This really tickled us for some reason.  App-plows, app-plows! Diminutive proprietor Pepe Sanchez of the Trova House Calls out each time before his band Launches into their next exuberant performance, Bookending their starts and finishes With extravagant clapping,  Like an exclamation mark at each end of a Spanish sentence.  Again, at the Hotel Nacional The carefully coiffed, beautifully dressed compere Cries out: Applows, applows! before each new number Whipping the crowd into a frenzy of expectation Surely unnecessary given the extravagance of each performance.  Such enthusiasm is alien to the English audience,  Who prefer to wait, to see if applause has been earned,  But who soon catch on With the help of a few free mojitos. © Copyright ...

One of the reasons we tend to go on tours arranged through the ship is they will always wait for you.  If you arrange them independently you are not so safe! His anxiety is triggered at the very start By a twenty minute delay on a four hour trip. He reminds the guide at our first stop "The last tender goes at 2pm!" Each time we stop for photos he mutters "Oh no!" Then "Hurry up"!" Checks his watch, exclaims at each allotted stop. His anxiety spreads, infecting others.  Arrival back at port, twenty minutes late  Is fraught with fear, despite the sight Of a tender waiting at the dock.   Emerging minutes later from customs,  A general wail escapes the group: "It's going, and it's not even full!" In vain we try to reassure  They won't leave us behind.  Another tender chugs up,  Waits for us all to board,  Then longer, just to be sure No-one is left behind.  © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

One of the highlights of our cruise was visiting Cuba, which lived up to its reputation for being musically vibrant,  and also for being very poor.  From the heat of Revolution Square A mad dash to the Cambio de Change So many Cuban pesos for £20 A wad fills a pocket. People in the street selling whatever they can -  A handful of washers, an electrical socket - Our euros buy us mojitos and beers In the Hotel Casa Grande. A walk back to port down a dodgy street, Derelict buildings, potholes in pavements,  To a new park on the Esplanade Where teenage boys practice dance moves To a cassette player.  At night, at the Trova House, Banging tunes, humour, sexy dancers,  Mojitos, beer, laughter, The singer flirts with a passenger,  Happiness, dancing, swinging salsa hips.  A guitarist serenades in Revolution Square Grateful for a tip the size of a beer,  Smiling,  "thank you,  thank you,  I have a family", sings us another song, Clasps...

I loved visiting the Caribbean,  the people we met were so welcoming and positive.  Welcoming, wide open, smiling faces Eagerly sharing their island Generous, proud, uncritical - Not shying away from its past, Our inglorious part in its history - They celebrate their independence,  Hint at the bright future to come.  The road passes ramshackle wooden houses, Pressed closely together, their peeling paint Resembling so many garden sheds. The guide proudly points out new 'wall houses' Brightly painted, two storied, made of sturdy brick,  In neat rows, in tidy new estates,  Becoming the norm in this island of aspirations.  © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

There were quite a few changes to the start of our cruise,  which could have been irritating,  but it's always better to try to accept change and go with the flow.  A cruise of changes: departure delays allow more time to pack,  a leisurely drive to port; a rough crossing on the Bay of Biscay, and Porto on Sunday becomes Vigo on Monday; late arrival of fuel  allows a tardy passenger to return to ship; missing out a port of call is a disappointment,   but gifts time for our colds to disappear; an expected daily yoga class alternates with Pilates, which complements it perfectly. No worries, we're on holiday, we're flexible, We're going with the flow.   © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

I wrote this on holiday which I think comes through in its relaxed structure and atmosphere. I think it was the tipping point when I left behind the rush of getting packed,  travelling and getting sorted onboard ship, and relaxed into the holiday.  Sitting in a bar in Funchal bright sunshine under a kapok tree  in a blur of Dutch, German, Madeiran voices, the stein of local beer slowly loosens the uptight Englishness in me,  reminds me I'm on holiday,  gives me permission to sit and do nothing.  © Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.