Ash Dickinson

Biography

Ash Dickinson has been full-time as a poet since 2008. A multiple slam champion including Edinburgh, Cheltenham, the Museum of Scotland and BBC Radio, he has performed in Australia, Canada, USA, New Zealand, Spain, Jordan, Denmark, France, The Netherlands, the Czech Republic and Germany, and headlined countless shows and festivals throughout the UK. Ash is in great demand to run writing workshops in schools, libraries, museums, prisons, with writing groups and through art education. His debut collection, ‘Slinky Espadrilles’, was the very first title published by Burning Eye Books. His second major collection, ‘Strange Keys’, also released by Burning Eye, came out in 2016. A collection for younger years, ‘Show Cats In Transit’, followed in 2019. His latest book, ‘Instructions For Outlaws’, was published in 2022. One of the most distinctive and unique poets working in performative environments, Ash’s ability to combine vivid surrealism with humour, while still holding up a mirror to our world, is a rare gift. Ash’s work is deeply poetic- every word debated and agonised over- yet wholly accessible. Claiming to have seven hours of his writing memorised and allied to a highly-watchable delivery, this is poetry that crackles on and off the page. Whether it’s tackling environmental issues, commenting on the human experience, or the magic realism of having his fridge fall in love with him, realising his skin isn’t waterproof or swapping places with the sea, the breadth of his imagination and his passion for the craft will take your breath away. “Impressive wordplay” – The Times “Clever And Funny” – The Scotsman “Brilliantly surreal invention…fabulous poems” – Edinburgh Evening News “A master of stand-up poetry” – Apples And Snakes www.ashdickinson.com "Impressive wordplay" - The Times “Clever and funny” – The Scotsman “Brilliantly surreal invention...fabulous poems” - Edinburgh Evening News "Hilarious social commentary and wicked wordplay…a master of stand-up poetry” – Apples And Snakes "A very cool combination of rap, rhyme, repetition and wry wit...Dickinson proves not only to be an incredibly gifted poet, but also a great comedian with a sharp eye for social commentary" - Winnipeg Free Press "Ash Dickinson is a performance poet for the Lost Generation. If you haven't seen him, you haven't seen performance poetry" - Federation of Writers (Scotland) "Could do for poetry what Bill Hicks did for comedy" - The Skinny "Page Against The Machine": ?si=_WySqZ1Ed04Y3GxA "Intimacy Coordinator": ?si=bWHGWbjwbi42XzT_ "Method Poet": "In Prison":

Samples

METHOD POET as Britain’s foremost method poet I immerse myself deeply in any subject I tackle I become one with my words I disappear for my revered epic on barnacles I attached myself to the underside of a peeling trawler for four months eating only ocean detritus and phytoplankton if you see me at times like these and think it is me it is not- I have gone native my life is essentially dedication and sacrifice striking a balance between art and life the first casualty was my first wife she didn’t understand that for me to understand office supplies...fully I had to lie in a cabinet for close on a year living, breathing, being a Post-It note I was rewarded with the four finest lines ever written about stationery - and still she left me you grieve, you hurt like acid and you move on the poems keep you warm wife number two I met on location I’d been a plastic bag and the moon and I’d been the sea now I was researching the climatic impact of festival goers on native plants by attending Glastonbury in the guise of a field poppy she’d stooped knelt over and smelt me cradled me delicately like I was new born I was so overcome I had to break character if you catch me off-guard I will tell you she never loved me more than when I was a flower people ask how we cope all this time apart but she understands this is art this is what I must do occasionally I return to our house and find odd things there unfamiliar hairs pressed into the bedding photos from our wedding placed face-down on the mantelpiece a sock, strange keys and I think these are props objects that I once was or one day may be and I’m again clinging on like a barnacle once more I’m all at sea

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