Sunday, 13 December 2009

PATRICK JONES - Poet Provocateur

Patrick Jones ( born 1965 ) is a Welsh political performance poet , playwright, activist and filmaker based in Blackwood, South Wales . A poet of our times, controversial, provocative , unflinching in his use of words, an uncompromising no to apathetic acceptance . He writes from the heart, with passion and integrity. Asking questions that a lot of people are afraid to talk about. He seems to want to tear down walls and divisions, and replace them with a better vision.
There have been decades of gradual opening out of media to open discussions on Iraq/Afghanistan War, sexual equality, oppression yet in recent times there has been a closing down of religious discussion.
It is not very politically correct to be an anti religious poet, which is what Patrick is, but he is foremost a poet of humanity, with all it's despair and ugliness. He reflects the closing down of dissent, is not afraid to stick his head over the trenches. Who remembers Thomas Moore, who are the new martyrs on either side. Remember People are still killing in the name of a God, we are in the age of basic new crusades.
Does centuries of struggling for womens liberation - political women's freedom and the right to vote mean we cannot now reach out to the Eastern World, to free their women from slavery, no vote, no education, no career, no equal property rights.
Patrick screams about such injustices as these, whether from a Western perspective or an Eastern one.
Here is a poet that actually challenges and confronts fundamental religion in all its forms, he dares to have the courage to use language some people in the current climate are afraid to raise. A People's Poet of the dispossessed and disenfranchised, an angry voice reflecting these angry times. He refuses to be silenced, a Christian group calling itself "Christian Voice " have called for his works to be banned, vehementally attacking Patrick's work, they have tried unsuccessfully to silence him. A disgusting symptom of reactionary Britain, if one does not enjoy reading something simply don't read it, it reminds me of book burning days , do we simply regress , or do we move forward. I don't agree with everything in the Bible, or other religious texts, but I would not seek to censor them, censorship simply fans the flames. The only weapons Patrick uses are his words, carrying swords of freedom, justice and equality , simply trying to heal the world, fighting division and all its causes, poverty social injustices. Seeking unity between us all . He also writes passionately about poverty, domestic abuse and violence. Fiercely opposed to fascism ,racism , bigotry in all it's forms. A Poet of peace then.
A powerful performer I have seen him a few times and I must say he is definitely worth checking out, he has also released two powerful records combining spoken word with music, collaborating with a numberr of musicians including Nicky Wire, James Dean Bradfield, Billy Bragg and many more.
Conversation and Amnesia (Big Noise Production) 1999
Tonques for a Stammering Time (Anhrefn Records) 2009
What follows are a selection of Patrick's poetry, not for the faint hearted, you have been warned

10 million christs

marching cadavers
inconsequential consequences
of another's lust and greed
stapled medals, a rosary for the cordoned
starving for successful failure

backpack messiahs
blinded by visions of paradise
unwashed feet caked in mud
a warrior psychosis
sold to souls
saladin's blood
on lionheart's sword
to bush's head
on bin laden's pole

crustacean crusade on overfed donkeys
a jism jihad on blurred video

an olive branch
an oxygen mask
a trident missile attack
purveyors of putrefaction
asinine dumb waiters
drunk on faith
fatah hamas hezbollah
idf scientologist taleban christianvoice

how many more christs
until we are all crucified?

in absentia

i light a candle for the absents
the almost forgotten, the waiting, the worn,
a day light for the dark nights
a filament of throat from thought
i light a candle for the absents
the dissapeared, the frightened
the watching, the saturday fathers,
disneyland dads, happy meal patriachs
contact controlled, access asked
permission prayed
the deadbeat, child support agents
no rights only deepest resposibility
i stare into the flame
see love and hate
silent flicker
a black and white photograph in agolden frame

from the slit wrist
the rose will grow
from the distance
blazes the geography of the soul
like candles, we inhabit the night
absence is not abstension
what feeds the wick?
who starves the oxygen?


what man is not made from woman and man?


"Any man who prays or prophesies with something on his head disgraces
his head, but any woman who prays or prophesies with her head
unveiled disgraces her head - it isa one and the same thing as having her
head shaved. For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off
her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to
be shaved, she should wear a veil. For a man ought not have his head veiled, since
he is the image and reflection of man. Indeed, man was not made from woman, but woman from man."
1 Corinthians 11: 4-9

cover my face
with burkha so unatural
i'm so ugly in your eyes
or is it my vision is so clitoral

use my holes
to cleanse your souls
paint my image as your icon of immaculation
force the feminine into your crucifixion
an olive branch drowned in thalidomide
they said it would make the sickness go away.

away, away

For the pope and for the imam
all i preach is deicide
just like mary magdelene
i fucked jesus
just like mary magdelane
i have been deemed useless
i shall drift to dust
all around
slit my wrist with rosary beads
blind my eyes with testerone veil
turn the other cheek
as you leave your seed

Go to bed with jihad so young
fasten my vulva with catholic tonque
decapitate me while i kneel
as all my sisters bow like culled seals

just like mary magdelene
i fucked jesus
just like mary magdelene
i am in each of us,

cut-up/morning prayer

onward christian soldiers marching as to war
with the cross of jesus going on before
the confrontation that we are calling for
does not know socrates debates or platonic law
but it knows the dialoque of bullets the ideals of
bombing and glorious destruction
gates of hell can never
gainst the church prevail
we have christ's own promise
and that cannot fail.
there shall be no peaceful solution
only pen and gun
by word and bullet
by teeth and tongue
onward christiian soldiers marching as to war
with the cross of jesus going on before
the sinners shall be known by their marks and shall be
seized by the forelock and the feet
run the straight race through god's good grace
lift up thine eyes and seek his face
life with its way before us lies
make a covenant o sister to make
their women widows
and their children orphans
to make them desire death
and slaughter them like lambs


let the nile and euphrates flow with their blood

we are brothers and comrades

we stand side by side...
s i d b y s i



a bomb is not a bomb until it lands in your living room,
religion gets off its knees,
and attacks,
like sand thrown into eyes,
it blinds,
flags stab borders
and dialect drowns intellect
as the bomb bloated thin line
marks our space, our place
you and i
becomes us and them,
"the birth pangs of a new middle east" says condelozza rice
but the baby will never be born,
as children lay dazed in wrecked hospitals,
oh father, which art in heaven, we praise you
"we have the right to self defence"
but a warplane knows no mortality
just another precisioned target on a silent road
in another country, another country...


you fire
cowardly rockets
that sneer into small villages
then run and hide
pray to your god,
speak of your good deed
and yearn for a fake paradise

as retaliation cannot find you
only the family fleeing their home, unsheltered,
innocent victim
to a crucifix game
they did not begin...


we must overcome this
we must move higher
clasp branches
hold firm
feel again
know again
real (r) ise
real ise
what we are were and will be
this pain can only exist upon the body
there must be a residing place
where one day
we shall be whole
in holes
for this time these days
the minutes stick like flies in honey
un dis ir dys an de
everything starts with a negation
can something begin with an affirmation
a somewhered
verb of
unatrophied flesh
to heal
we have to overcome this/

with the sense of an ending

still the mountain
still the walking
still the breathing
still the choking
still the cutting
still the bleeding
still the feeding
still the loving
still the clock ticking
still the leaf shaking
still the silene screaming
still the ink leaking
be; still-

the ending
still this this still
be beginning

For further details of Patrick's works and readings , here is a link to his website.


  1. mmm, not sure about this, pretty graphic

  2. pretty tame methinks , when all things are considered.