Poetry on the Hoof: Scruffy Students

It was National Poetry Day last week and we can’t stop celebrating it, especially now that all those students are harnessed back in their faculties and student bars.

Here’s ‘Scruffy Students’ to help them settle in to their new term (or semester or whatever’s been concocted for them this year). Thanks to my favourite postgraduates and our illustrator, Paul Warren for the inspiration!

Scruffy Students

Sporty scruff
Sparky scruff
Just pissed up in the afternoon
Scruff.

Beery scruff
Hippy scruff
Permanent student in a beetle
Scruff.

Lecturer scruff
European scruff
We’re all mates together in a rugby scrum
Scruff.

Lectures seminars
Tutorials workshops
Doubting supremacist knowledge
Scruff.

The only unscruffy ones are the Arabs, Africans and Chinese.
Do they know something we don’t?

Poetry on the Hoof: Artists Knowledge (Close Encounters of the Third Kind)

It was National Poetry Day on 2 October, so we’re celebrating it over a long weekend of irreverent, irritated and irate doggerel! Here’s ‘Artists Knowledge’ to help you put your reflective socks on for a lazy Sunday!

It’s been written in response to the challenge many of us face when trying to justify the value of arts in education and research.

Artists Knowledge (Close Encounters of the Third Kind)

Knowledge of the first kind
is the stats, the dates, the measurements.
The what, the when, the where.

Knowledge of the second kind
is the interpretations, the rational analysis of observable events.
The scientific, analytic, predictive.
The regulatory, the politic.
The how, the whether.

Artists knowledge is knowledge of the third kind.
Sensory and sensitive,
Intuitive and imaginative,
Magical and miraculous.
Generating meaning and stories
which bestow ownership of knowledge of the first kind
and give purpose to the knowledge of the second kind.
The what-if? The why? The If-not, then why-not?

Poetry on the Hoof: Resistance isn’t Futile

It was National Poetry Day on 2 October, so we’re celebrating it over a long weekend of irreverent, irritated and irate doggerel! Here’s ‘Resistance isn’t Futile ‘ to give you some encouragement on a Saturday if you’re faced with the prospect of never ending life admin chores when you could be out with your mates for those never ending Saturday nights.

I’m particularly remembering the work of Stuart Bastik: artist, thinker and occasional poet who sadly died in the summer of 2024. I worked with him and Maddi Nicholson (co-founders and co-artistic directors of Art Gene) during what became a transformational period in my life. As their project manager for many events, walks and talks across Cumbria, his approach to his life and art was sometimes engaging, often challenging but always unforgettable. ‘Resistance’ is the doff of my cap to one of life’s unique life forces.

Resistance isn’t Futile is inspired by the Borg of Star Trek infamy.  The Borg would take immense amount of pleasure telling their hapless victims that ‘resistance was futile’ and that they just better buckle down and be happy with their lot. Even if it did mean colonisation, subjugation and excruciating humiliation.

It seems we hear a lot in our daily lives why things can’t happen – whether this be in a street, in a business, in a school: in all sorts of places from all sorts of people.  Hearing ‘no’ so often suggests that resistance to any kind of positive social change is pointless: and in some quarters, the Borg are alive and kicking in the most unlikeliest of places.

People who tended to say ‘yes’ are were more likely to be people like Stuart. He inspired many of us to say ‘yes’ to the challenges, opportunities and sheer wonder of Barrow, its history and relationships with the natural (and industrial) worlds.  He reminded us that resistance to the ‘no’ wasn’t futile, that difficulties could be overcome and that apathy was a choice, not a biological or economic given. This poem summarises the aspiration of when faced with so many ‘no-es’, so many reasons not to do things, we need to find the ‘yes’ in a situation.  If we can find the ‘yes’, we can transform ourselves, our families, our communities and the world at large.

This piece was part of Art Gene’s 8 Words for Barrow-in-Furness competition during the first national lockdown in 2020. Inspired by 8 empty sky blue billboards in the town, Art Gene invited people from Barrow and Furness to enter their own suggestions for phrases to fill the space. From over 180 entries, 20 competition winners were selected by Stuart and Maddi Nicholson, and were presented in a socially distanced, outdoor artwork created by Maddi outside Art Gene HQ on Abbey Road in Barrow in 2022.

You can read ‘Resistance is Futile’ in our poetry anthology, There’s no such Things as an Englishman’

Poetry on the Hoof: Friday Means the Weekend!

It was National Poetry Day on 2 October, so we’re celebrating it over a long weekend of irreverent, irritated and irate doggerel! Here’s ‘Friday Means the Weekend ‘ to really get your weekend off to the right start!

Another ducking and diving week is over!

It’s time to go home and face the furniture!

Friday Means the Weekend is available in our poetry anthology, There’s no such Thing as an Englishman: Poems from an Irritated England.

This anthology of poetry marks the many sources of irritation faced by the average Englishman or woman these days – everything from the railways to referenda via what ever it is the young call music these days.

It was launched on 31 January 2020 – the day when the UK left the European Union and when the phenomenon known as Brexit finally, we like to think, finally evaporates and all those years of frustration, anger, sheer disbelief and irritation all come to rest. But as Chairman Mao once said about what he thought the effects of the French Revolution were, it may be too soon to tell.

But its two authors – Nick Owen and Janice Owen – have become accomplished at becoming irritated at many facets of life in England over the years and hope that you, dear reader, will find some solace in knowing that you are not alone when it comes to feeling frustrated, pissed off, angry or just good old fashioned irritated.

Being English though, means we’ve just reached a level of irritation and aren’t quite ready to riot. Yet.

Want to read more poems from ‘No Such Thing as an Englishman’? Have a look here:

Poetry on the Hoof: There’s no Such Thing as an Englishman

It’s National Poetry Day on 2 October, so we’re going to celebrate it over a long weekend of irreverent, irritated and irate doggerel! Here’s ‘No Such Thing as an Englishman’ to really stoke up the tempers!

No Such Thing as an Englishman

There’s no such thing as an Englishman,
He really doesn’t exist.
There was never a castle, a moat, a drawbridge,
His house failed to subsist.
There’s no such thing as an Englishman,
With blood deep blue, and skin ghost white.
There’s no such thing as fists of red,
Shaking in varicosed fright.

Because an Englishman is part Scot, part Gael, part Celt,
Part Saxe, part Franco, part Serb.
He’s part Indo, part Carib, part Sino;
Part Arab, part Thai, part disturbed.
His blood is a Mishra mash of madness,
of cultures a-far and a-near,
He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going,
So he curse, he shout and he swear.

Because an Englishman is part woman,
Part he-man, part her-man, part sha-man.
Scratch an Anglo and there’s a vigorous hybrid,
In a gene pool of shimmering light.
Their bloods are the colours of mud and of sand
Their bones, the tastes of the sun and the strand;
Their tongues, taste the moon rising high in the sky
And falling rains, wash away, the tears in their eyes.

Our nerves weren’t forged in Sheffield,
But in Scotia, near and afar.
Our guts were shaped in Islamabad,
And the restaurants and bazaars of Belfast.
Our oaths don’t belong to king and country,
But to our brothers, our sisters, our cousins,
Yet we swear allegiance, history and platitudes
Till our shoes are glued to our feet.

There’s no such thing as an Englishman,
He just doesn’t exist,
And those who would want to deny this,
Are deluded, foolish, trapped fish.
The deniers, the nay-sayers and flag wavers
Who are looking to protect their list,
Had better beware, their game is to scare
But they won’t.
The dance of the Englishman is over.

Recorded at Culture Action Europe Conference, Being Many, in Turin 2025