Shows : 5
Hangovers : 1
In all your endeavours strive to position yourself in the centre of the whirlpool
I wake up to the words of Mark Divine
He’d done his first reviews all through the night
‘The Holy Grail of festiv’ling,’ he’d said
Was to review, & chuff’d he’d joined my team
Immersed himself in words & theatre
& living life for all thats good in life
& sent me these two stanzas, once composed
The Spiegel Tent
The house of mirrors returns.
To be the home of magic journeys.
Attracting the world artistic collaboration
To share the platform with all that the mirrors draw.
Pleasured by the chameleon changes.
Never questioned just rejoiced.
In The pleasure of stimulating craft.
A universe of genius.
Through the heart of rich explosions.
Aural Delights That “Shift!”
The inhibitions of normality.
To explore the rhythm of fun and love.
In August and Early September.
Mark Calvert. August 1998.
Ive got the keys to Victor Pope’s mad flat
On Dixon Street, while he’s gone into town
To queue up for a busking slot this day
Two hours it takes to upload my reviews
& type up yesterdays poetry carved
From all these wondrous arts, Victor returns
He’s got a slot today at half-pats five!
Now, one home-cooked, pork pasta to the good
Two portions in my freezer in clear tubs,
I bounded up Leith Walk all full of beans
The city not yet bursting at the seams
Tho set for many revels, many moods
When many travelers munch many foods
At this Universal table of life.
How apt, my first show of this first full day
A musical should be, Ive written five,
Today, the ever timeless Odyssey
Reminds me that this year Scheria waits
My visit, for I think it lies off Crete
Where I’ll show how Stesichorus once carved
The song that this array of young hearts sing.
Their story leaps beyond old Homer’s pen
All thro Ionic cycles, as the gang
Moves with expression, & symbiotic
Willows oer the stage like rising smoke
That from the flames of Vulcan’s forge did rise
& as they sing of Troy & the Nostoi
They blend their comic twists with bright panache.
With siren-song still ringing in my ears
Proper pronunciation of Greek names
Its happy bedfellow, these feet reswerve
Back to the streets, & at St Andrew’s Square
It seems the Bookfest is a month early,
Champagne & deckchairs… & wow! funky bars
Fine art & stalls & tented stages cool!
Soon all this city shall a great stage be
Ballet doon Newhaven, while up Oxgangs
Future Pavarottis seen struttin’ their stuff
For year-on-year, encroaching on the lives
Of Edinburghers, FESTIVAL arrives
As if they were the braves of Zululand
Afore Rourke’s Drift, an Empire to withstand