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John Togher

Updated: Fri, 17 Mar 2017 01:53 pm

johntogher80@gmail.com

https://soundcloud.com/johnthebap

Contact via WOL

Biography

Writer. New booklet of poetry 'The Apparition of Infatuation' (now sold out) Former founder and editor of the Mental Virus Arts Magazine. I am a member of John The Baptist & The Second Coming, electronica/prog/krautrock/blues: https://soundcloud.com/johnthebap Literature Co-ordinator of NXNW Arts Festival www.nxnwfestival.co.uk Book of poetry with illustrations by Anna Smith called 'The Importance of Magic in the Void', released in 2009 (now sold out). I run the Write Out Loud Open Mic at The Old Courts, Wigan every 2nd Thursday of the month. Published in various zines and anthologies. Professional Guinness drinker.

Samples

Unglet Lashings of rain. We see a foetal beggar outside, forehead touching the rain-soaked cobbles of Prague, his bald patch tipping a copper plate, humble to the chink-chink of pennies. More lashings. We use yesterday’s Times as an umbrella of information. Golem underfoot chases us to Unglet. Stumbling, we enter with ink, black ink stained on our hands and sodden paper on our shoulders. A fog hits our eyes and we squint at little fi res held, in warm fi ngers, glowing, lighting faceless shapes. We blink and we blink. Then the noise, seemingly chaotic, frenzied shakes, tinkles and toots, the pull of a long trombone, a skipping beat, looseness in the wrists, the gravity defying notes willing us to think and to think. We’re offered dark froth in glasses and dumplings on plates, so we sit in scotch-red seating. An electric-haired enthusiast in the front row takes a drink, takes a drink. His partner yawns, black caterpillars framing her eyes, as he nods and applauds hypnotically, robotically. I stare at the kink, that maddening kink in the eyes of the players. A bearded man approaches in an almost-clean white shirt, tells us, “You two should have been here an hour and five minutes ago.” We look at each other, eyebrows raised. The trumpets pipe down, the piano plays Morse code, and the lights, the hue, glows pink, glows pink. The Importance Of Magic In The Void The ironblack eyebrow of Hughes raises an inch as I arrive and like a sad A Minor Chord Kundera sits in his corner as I walk through this place, the void. I’m offered a whiskey tumbler; taste my soul in its afterbreath. Virginia Woolf, the curve of her intelligent nose running through her prose, gives a toasts to the void. JD Salinger pours red wine, so that men, women and Gods can line their parallel hearts again. But the gloom continues, persists. I fear I’ll be lost in the void. I try to forget the fizzing cortex of regret, of the holes in our memory that are random and guilty, of the journey I have taken to reach here, the void. In this room full of drunk writers we wait for the magic, that spark of inspiration, whether from absinthe or lovers, the devil or God, we need to leave the void. Then it happens, Herman Hesse, steering his canoe offers an escape through the canyon of dreams and we ride, ride on those rafters thinking through it all of the importance of magic in the void. Piccadilly I meet you at the statue on the hour and think of the drowning grip I have on your face. Your onion seed eyes are ablaze. I sigh, watch the feathered clouds disconnect above us. You give a tug on my sleeve, “We’re a clumsy version of a good idea, like pterodactyls.” I freeze-frame, see you entwined in bringing defeat, deaf to my melancholy. I stare at the chip in your front tooth. A Tribute To The Stray It was just beginning to hit me how lonely everybody is when a woman with extraordinarily tweezed eyebrows, like birds seen in flight from miles away, bumped into me and told me I resembled a friend of hers from high school. She reminded me of my Mother, who struck up conversations with strangers on luminous Spring evenings when the clouds smudged the sky. The woman with the two birds winged away and I stared at the onion flowers spangled out across the grass and breathed in. The air was fresh and tight, like rain. Sounds of laughter blew down the street showing the distance between them and me. I pictured the only time I saw my Father cry. It was ugly and limp. I ran to him and put my hand on his and guided the phone back to its cradle. His voice sounded the way it gets when he hears a song he loves sung perfectly. I placed him in his sad bed and told him not to worry. Then I forgot all that and moved my thoughts to another town. One where I rage against the heated winds and act like the son they wanted.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Hover over an event to see the details. (Open Mic open mic event, WOL Write Out Loud event)

Thursday 11 July 2019

Wigan »

8:30pm at Crawford Street, Wigan, WN1 1NG, GB

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Comments

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Isobel

Tue 11th Jun 2013 15:24

LOL - now there's an award to scrabble for - the podium wouldn't be in one of your old wardrobes, would it? ;))

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John Togher

Tue 11th Jun 2013 15:22

Congratulations Isobel.

You win a free penis down your ear canal!

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Isobel

Tue 11th Jun 2013 15:01

Meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!! :)

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Isobel

Tue 11th Jun 2013 15:00

not me

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Isobel

Tue 11th Jun 2013 14:59

not me

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Isobel

Tue 11th Jun 2013 14:58

not me

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John Togher

Tue 11th Jun 2013 13:54

Who's going to be the 10,000 visitor to my profile?

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winston plowes

Wed 21st Mar 2012 22:55

Hi John, Just too say in re-reading the abover poems tonight, 'Picadilly' and 'Watching You Matsterbate...' leapt off the screen. Fab stuff. Win x

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Rachel Bond

Wed 19th Oct 2011 19:59

hi john can you please repost 'you cant ...over a vague man' it came up in a comments thread and id like to read it. hope you and yours are all fine x

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Neil Fawcett

Wed 10th Aug 2011 12:01

Alright John, I've just got your message mate. I'm on me 'olidays and won't be back till thweekend, see you next month though.
Auvoir.
Neil.

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Laura Taylor

Tue 7th Jun 2011 09:34

Cheers John for comments on Ohrwurm and W/T/C.

Would be real interested in that piece you mentioned re earworms!

See you in a field on Friday :) Freaky dancin!

stella jones

Mon 24th Jan 2011 00:00

wow enjoyed your Prague poem..neat work sir.

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winston plowes

Thu 6th Jan 2011 12:25

"Poetry?! In Wigan?! Stop being gay and eat a pie."

Stereotypically wonderful!

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Laura Taylor

Tue 12th Oct 2010 15:55

Howdy

I was all set on going to the Tudor on Thursday, but have been dying of some flu/cold nonsense, and would rather not ruin me first attempt at reading aloud by accidentally gobbing on someone :(

Will see how I feel on Thursday, but if not this one, then I will deffo go to the next. Ta for the reminder anyhow - see you soon

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Isobel

Wed 1st Sep 2010 15:38

Awww thank you - it came as a great shock. Just as well they've disable comments now - I'd probably get a lot of disgruntled folk slagging me off. Good to see that someone also reads features on here - I often wonder...xx

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Jacqueline King

Tue 29th Jun 2010 20:22

Your welcome, I love the first line, though not sure why you are in the wardrobe! Is that where men do these things?

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Ann Foxglove

Mon 7th Jun 2010 23:04

Hi John - thanks for emailing me the song "Candlegame". Can I put it on my poet's profile on WOL? And whats all this about the madness of the poet then? ;-)

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John Darwin

Fri 25th Sep 2009 08:22

No. At the moon. Juxtaposition of images.

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Neil West

Wed 23rd Sep 2009 20:41

Hi John. I enjoyed 'The Waiting' very much, I can tell you're a proper poet, it reminded me of when I tried to read Ulysses (a bit of it anyway).

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Isobel

Thu 23rd Jul 2009 00:50

Love your new book 'The Importance of Magic in the Void' and the lovely personal inscription you wrote for me. Will be sure to 'dip my feet in the colours of the earth' as often as I can... And to think I thought you were recommending the benefits of a walk in the park....

Pete Crompton

Fri 17th Apr 2009 00:14

John thanx for everything.
Look forward to seeing you play, will be coming along. Thank you for your comment on one of my love poems

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Rob Sherman

Fri 28th Nov 2008 03:10

Woah.
Thats all I'm saying.
Woah.

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