Jessica Johnson - Actors Show reel - 2014/15

                                          http://youtu.be/DhAxFsXYpqY

Energy

Its not because I'm a Mam that I don't always look glam,

Its a simple decision to not give a damn.

I might occasionally pluck and trim,

Eyelashes glued,

Lipsick used.

But -

I could not be arsed to do this every day,

I don't even own a hair brush. 

I mean, what more can I say!

I remember most days to put on deodorant,

To not stink all my friends away with my O natural odors. 

I obviously change my underwear,

Bath and shower daily,

But time wasted using straighteners and curlers,

Applying make up for hours.

No -

Thats just fucking silly!  

Although -

I really do admire these glamorous nine to fivers,

When everydays a film premier,

Every pavement, a red carpet.

Sometimes, I imagine I could be like them.

Wear high heels to go food shopping,

Get up at 5 am.

Clean, cook and watch telly, head to toe in French Connection,

Stylish, pristine, polished,

A picture of perfection.

Not a hair out of place,

Not a freckle left unaltered.

But I just don't have the energy,

To be that bloody gorgeous.

I like to slob out,

Keep toasty warm,

Let my knicker beard go astray.

No......

I don't have energy for that all pampering, 

At least not everyday!

Vintage Pink Lane: Poetry & Performance

I Cant Tell You

 I cant tell you how it felt,
 To have the house to myself,
 For an hour and a half,
 To pause.
 No one talking,
 Or listening,
 No rings, bleeps or singing,
 No telly blaring,
 No noise.
 

North East Rising at Northern Stage: Review - by Bridget McClean The Journal

North East Rising at Northern Stage: Review - The Journal

You could say the Geordie stereotype of recent times is hard to budge but Rowan McCabe does it with admirable aplomb in his debut show.

An intimate venue with a jumble of mis-matched seats, combined with Rowan’s laid-back attitude, makes you feel you could be at the pub with him and his friends.

He moves seamlessly from hilarious anecdote to poignant poem and back again, all in an easy, comfortable manner.

The aim of North East Rising is primarily to dispel what he feels is the unfair portrayal of the North East.

Among those singled out as main culprits are Geordie Shore and the Guardian’s article comparing Newcastle to the desolate Detroit.

His take on Geordie Shore is hilarious. At one point he likens the stars of the show to tangerine-coloured psychopaths and Newcastle as a playground for oompa loompas.

He tells the stories of what he describes as his quest to find the essence of the North East – a cultural identity, if you will.

These compelling tales, mixed with flashes of self-deprecating humour, make for an easy watch. He held the audience’s attention throughout.

His mission to find the true heart of the region’s culture is enlivened by his energetic performance of poetry and laugh-out-loud satire, with a few pauses for thought.

We are offered an uncanny Cheryl Cole impression, an impersonation of ‘Toon hero’ Joseph Swan (he invented an incandescent lightbulb) and a gangster rap about stotties.

He included some slightly unconventional North East characters, including Pat Tabram, more commonly known as ‘the cannabis gran’.

And there was a guest appearance from Tony the Fridge, the fridge-carrying runner, who read a poem he had written himself.

Support came from Alix Alixandra, a singer-songwriter with a knack for a catchy melody who sang of the modern day troubles of Tinder and Buzzfeed, and Jess Johnson whose hilarious, explosive poems are not for the faint-hearted.

by Bridget McClean

Pink Lane Poetry & Performance

Cougar

What did you just call me?
You - little - shit!
Is that a pint of Cow n Gate your drinking?
Growing up milk.
Aye,
I think your nappy needs changing son,
Or maybe its your patter that stinks,
Was that meant as a compliment?
A chat up line?
You prick!
Now listen closely pet lamb,
I didn't ask for this chat,
You skid marked yourself over here,
Giving it all that.
But before I finish this drink,
Ill impart a little advice,
This is my watering hole,
My city,
My night!
So take that Freshers attitude,
And that awful stench of Lynx,
That horrible, HORRIBLE rape'y T-shirt,
And your herbal highs that you bought with your bag of chips,
And git the fuck the away from me,
Before I deck you one,
I'll destroy little man,
You'll be on the next train home.
Go on.....
Mush.....
Cause even your mates are laughing at you,
Call me a Cougar!
Youre lucky -
If my whiskey wasn't so nice I'd swill you!

REVIEW - North East Rising

North East Rising

Washington Arts Centre

4^th September 2014

An evening of poetry and music showcased some of the great talent that we currently have in the region. Alix Alixandra opened up with her songs about love and meeting up with her ex’s best friend on her ukulele. Gentle songs with poetic lyrics provided a reflective start to the evening. 

Alix was the calm before the storm as Jessica Johnson took to the stage with her vitriolic punk poetry. Topics range from what it must be like to be married to a comic like Jim Davidson, through drinking with a sister who doesn’t shy from a fight, to being married to a photographer who uses your house to photograph various girls. It may have been her first performance for 2 years but the verse flowed like a torrent. 

It was really pleasing to see a packed house experiencing the culture on show tonight and Rowan McCabe delivered an entertaining yet very personal journey around the North East. He segued the introductions into the poetic compositions to provide a seamless journey around the both the undesirable elements of the region and some of the highlights. Stotties and Tony the Fridge are celebrated whilst Cheryl Cole and dodgy company in a nightclub provide a counter argument to what is great about the region. Joseph Swan need not have a nightmare. Culture in the North East is in safe hands as long as talent like Rowan, Alix and Jessica can continue to perform in packed venues.

This review was written by Stephen Oliver for Jowheretogo PR (www.jowheretogo.com). Follow Jo on twitter @jowheretogo, Stephen @panic_c_button or like Jowheretogo on Facebookhttps://www.facebook.com/Jowheretogo 

Pink Lane: Poetry & Performance

The Wolves - Dedicated to the Customer Services of British Gas & Electric!

The Wolves is at the door again,
Knock, Knock, Knockin'
And us skint little piggies aint got nottin'.
You can huff and puff,
And blow and blow,
Im freezing my tits off the heatings so low!
How much?
And when?
You must be bloody jokin'!
Thats the whole of my months income,
I mean thats what you're talkin'
And HEY,
If you don't like my abusive attitude,
Then stop fuckin' callin' -
I'll give you it when Ive got it,
Its not like I'm stallin'.
Do you think I'm enjoyin'
Our daily conversations?
Christ Almighty!
The whole country's in debt,
The whole of our nation,
Cause YOU....
Ya' greedy Rat Bags,
Have us all over a barrel,
So don't be tellin' me sort it out,
Tell that dick head David Cameron!

Pink Lane: Poetry & Performance @ Northern Stage - May 2014

Dear Scotland

Dear Scotland, 

It's Geordie from England. How are you? I know we haven't seen each other in awhile. Well, not since my Hen Party. Which was great by the way, thanks for having us! I was in Berwick the other week for lunch but I didn't have time to pop across and see you properly, anyway.....
There's a lot of talk now about you leaving, being Independent and everything - Ill be honest when I first heard about it I was like, No Chance..... but I can see now I was maybe wrong. You're serious about this.

I won't pretend to know the ins and outs, the politics of it all but I do understand why you would want to leave. I've thought about it myself from time to time and I don't blame you! It's just........ me and you go back a long way. There's been problems in the past but you know that's never had anything to do with us!!! You know me - Its not like I'm some southerner, like the Home Counties - it's Geordie! We're like sisters me and you. Family!

Have we thought about possibly moving the border down any further? We could get Morpeth I bet and see how we go from there. I know loads of people who would be up for that. We could build a new wall! Everyone loved the last one didn't they!

I don't want to get on your case cause I'm sure you've got loads on but have you given any thought for us - We're going to be "The North", it doesn't get more Northern and I don't know if we can do this without you. You do realise...... Sorry - I'm just panicking!

Look, I want you to know....if you do decide to go...I'm going to really miss you, that's the truth! Whatever happens at that referendum I will be thinking of you.

And remember we'll always be mates and we're just a handshake away if you ever need us for anything.

All the best Scotland and best of luck to you.

Geordie. xxxx

Mam - Is not the person she was last year.

Mam is in need of an ear to bend, 
A good friend,
With a screw top.
Mam likes the lights off.
She is not the person she was,
Last year.
Mam is six minutes away from drinking a coffee she has reheated in the microwave,
A rusk away from the shop,
And no milk.
So she waits for the phone to ring,
Or the door bell to bring.
She is not the person she was,
Last year.
Mam needs time to think about the future,
So she puts herself on the naughty step,
And drums her fingers.
Thinking of what she was supposed to do yesterday.
And she didn't mean to let you down.
But she is not the person she was,
Last year.
Mam needs to talk until the early hours,
Even to herself!
And she doesn't pride herself on the house keeping,
Or her time keeping,
All she keeps is finger paintings.
Because she's not the person she was,
Last year.
Mam wants to know she is still here!
But she needs four strong coffees these days,
Just to get herself in gear,
She needs to be there
And here,
But she can't remember what time.
Because she's not the person she was,
Last year!

The Jazz Cafe 2010

Supper for the Bairn

Bread and butter
With chunky fried chips
We’ll eat fish for our supper the bairn an’ me.
I’ll boil up the kettle
And brew up the pot
Two sugars a piece in a tea good and hot.
So we can sit by the fire,
The bairn an’ me
Chattin' on - blanket wrapped - pillows fluffed,
Warm and cosy -
Until she sleeps.
The bairn
But not me.

I have to throw my nets further to share my supper with you now.
But still dance bonny lassy till ya Mammy comes 'ome
We’ll share our supper again,
Under the same house, the same hearth, the same home.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow 
I'll take one sugar in my tea,
Not 2.
And I'll try not to smoke!
During the day.
As much.
I will be healthy.
I will think healthy!
Carrot sticks,
Hummus!
Eat celery, if I have to.
Tomorrow I will
Exercise,
Take the stairs.
I will shave my legs.
I will aerodynamically glide through life.
Washed, ironed and hairless.
Tomorrow will be bright.
Even if it's raining.
Tomorrow, Tomorrow,
I will read a news paper.
Like the Guardian.
I will understand all of it!
Tomorrow,
I will try to say positive things.
I will ask people questions about themselves,
"How are you?" "How was your weekend?"
And won't talk about myself!
Not as much.
Unless I'm asked.
Then I will.
Tomorrow I will kiss my husband,
Because some times,
There's no time,
The morning flies "bye",
Kissless,
But not tomorrow!
Tomorrow I will make time.
Tomorrow, Tomorrow.....

Foster Mam

My Dad was hard man, Doing dodgy MOT's, Always in the back lanes, On the back foot, Taking back hands, Making deals. He wasn't there a lot and neither was my Mother, Both busy, Doing their own thing, And we wasn't worth the bother! My Dads name for me was 'little bastard' My Mother called me 'a little lad in drag' She wouldn't buy me pretty things, What all the other girls had. So I spent my youth in dirty joggers and Karki pants, Causing mischief on the chicken fields. While my sister threw wild house parties, We weren't the sort to do family meals.

Then one day my Mother up't and left us, For some cheesy club singer, And I watched my dad in days to come buy a gun and threaten to kill her. She didn't come to see us much after all of that, Which in some ways was a blessing, but also the straw that broke the camels back. You see, my Dads behaviour escalated, And though he left my sister well alone, I knew what would be waiting for me, On a night when I got home. I was a substitute for my Mother in every damning way, If I wasn't some use to my Dad, I was cast out like a stray. So I stayed out late and later, Wondering the streets, I'd feed the gypsy horses or be shoplifting sweets. And the years clocked by quite quickly, Back then I wasn't older than eight, By the time I was a pre teen, I was full of rage and hate! I was a feral little creature, Who had never known real love, My Dad could barely look at me these days, And I survived years without a simple hug.

One night all the pressure and the secrets, It all came to ahead, And I took a lethal overdose as my Dad lay asleep in bed. It only took a couple of days for everything to change, All my worldly possessions stuffed in two black bags, As a social worker led me away.

They drove me to a house I'd never seen before, Where a large, shapely woman opened the front door. At first I was nervous, As she signed my life away, And the reality dawned on me, That this is where I had to stay. That evening I cried, God I cried myself to sleep. And this large, shapely woman stayed at my bedside, And didn't make a peep. She just wrapped her arms about me, Held me closely to her chest, Rocked me like a baby and encouraged me to rest.

I didn't stay with her for very long, Social services move kids about, But if I'm to talk to you about family, Then without any - shadow - of a doubt: In that single act of kindness, She Taught me more than any other, When she opened up her heart and home, To become my Foster Mother.

The intention of my poem is to maybe plant a seed, Of children and young people, in our own communities, Who are very much in need. There is a shortage of foster families, Numbers at an all time low, So kids like me who are "hard to love" Have no where else to go. So before we cast out our little vagabonds, Because we mean you no harm at all, But There's just not enough kindness and love in the world, It's a shame there's not more families and homes.