"Hold Your Own" she said...

When I write poetry it is like an unconscious spiel of emotion, of thought, of... everything.

Some writers have an endless list of other writers who inspire them. While I’m sure I do have this in my subconscious somewhere, I never really consciously acknowledge who they were or why they inspired me. Not really, not truly. I mean, of course there are the classics; Shakespeare, Bronte, Joyce, Austin; but nobody ever really spoke to me. Not until I first heard the poetry, the spoken word, of Kate Tempest.

I’ve been writing since I can remember. Short stories. Picture books. Novels. Until, when I was around eleven, I began writing poetry.

I am a very emotional person. Growing up, I never coped with my emotions properly. Writing poetry was the only activity that I could find solace in, let my mind go to, let my emotions release with.

Whenever I read back through some of my older poems I’m always a bit cringed out at first - like, uh, so angsty! How, at eleven years old, was I so. damn. angsty..? Kids, right?

But then I remember; my writing - whether good or bad - tells a story, paints a picture of my past, teaches me about the inner workings of my psyche, of my soul - you get it... So I have to think to myself, maybe without all of that angst I never would have found clarity, or never would have ended up in London performing my first spoken word open mic of a poem I had written five years prior. Maybe without all of that I would never have stumbled across the works of my hero, Kate Tempest.

Over the past eight years, this one woman force of nature has written a novel, produced three albums, written three plays, churned out incredible amounts of poetry over four collections and won the Ted Hughes Poetry Award for her spoken word theatre piece Brand New Ancients. Her language is so poignant in its delivery, it can pierce even the most creatively illiterate or emotionally void hearts. Her messages speak truth and paint pictures in vibrant colour. Her words are unapologetic and project volumes about many of the ever-present issues humanity has experienced and enforced on earth. Her discourse is seemingly effortlessly woven and delivered through the masses in such a way that it is nearly impossible to ignore. Somewhere between the layers of questioning and judgement, the unapologetic truths and inescapable mirrors containing our own reflections, unavoidable is the sentiment that protrudes nearly all of her craft - love more. “Wake up, and love more...”

Words. Such interesting little things they are. Such as that, when they are strung together in particular ways or spoken with such intent and emphasis, they can wrap their fingers around the untouched strings and cells of your mind in the same way that new physical exercises can awaken muscles in your body that you never knew you had... Tempest's spiels are examples of such awakenings; a standard which I can only dream of some day achieving through my stanzas.

Finally seeing Kate perform at the BBC 6 Radio music festival in Roundhouse, London on International Women’s Day 2020 was honestly one of the best experiences of live performances I have had. I’d been given some complimentary tickets as the company I work for has their headquarters in the building next door, and I scheduled my ‘monthly visit’ from Berlin purposely to coincide with the day she was performing. When I arrived in London, I literally stepped off the plane, made my way to the apartment I was staying in, dropped off my stuff and headed straight to the festival. I was PUMPED. She was preceded by Nadine Shah, Jehnny Beth, Anna Meredith and Kim Gordon and oh, was it a show not to be missed! Flying solo was actually the best decision I made in the end. I had barrier seats so I could enjoy the view while bopping along with my pints (yes, plural) of Camden Hells, and could pop in and out whenever I pleased. Being a typical mosher, I definitely felt like I was living the high life.

Kate’s performance was everything I could have hoped for and more. It was just her and her (female, bad ass) producer on stage, the delivery was impeccable and her performance was intense and riveting. I cried about three times during, over which I felt absolutely no embarrassment (despite the side glances from the two older ladies sitting next to me). It was an International Women’s Day to remember.

In Kate’s own words “...in the moment in which the idea has life, when it’s listened to, read, engaged with, acted on stage, it gains another dimension, it becomes three dimensional.”

Mark Zuckerberg recently posted a short film called ‘Never Lost’ to honour the solidarity of humanity during the current times of COVID-19, which features Tempest’s piece ‘People’s Faces.’ This in itself is a testament to the emotive and empathetic power of her words (albeit through Facebook).

“There is so much peace to be found in people’s faces.”

Interestingly, me witnessing Kate's performance came just days before international border closures began due to COVID-19. Timing is always a funny thing...

The first poem I heard of Kate's was Hold Your Own. I always say that nothing is ever the same as the first time you experience it, especially when it comes to art. When I first heard her poetry, I felt powerful, I felt inspired, I felt loved. The first part of this poem in particular speaks volumes, especially in times like these:

"When time pulls lives apart, hold your own. When everything is fluid, and when nothing can be known with any certainty, hold your own..."

Kate Tempest showed me the light in the dark. She opened up an orifice inside of me that contained such understanding, passion, empathy, and creativity. She showed me rawness and poetic intelligence that I could aspire to. She showed me that I could have a voice as a poet. And that I should.

So to finish, here is a little poem from me to Kate. Poet to poet...

Set aside, in my mind

Within a pocket you reside

One that shows me what is truth

Shows me light through kindred proof

In my mind you sit inside

Keeping warm my soul at night

Let me be through what you see

Inspire me tired and set me free.