Monday, 27 September 2010



I was taking a stroll down memory lane
3 and 4 bed detached houses singing in silence
Taking a sharp right at the newsagent
I stood outside the British Legion,
struggling for breath,
clutching my chest with heart pain,

Familiar faces stared out of window panes twitching the curtains
I got to number 17 and tripped up,
falling face down in to the gutter

Regaining my composure I rolled over
Stood up and found myself in the middle of the road,
thinking that I was heading in the right direction
but really not knowing where to go.

If I stayed where I was I knew I'd be in trouble
Reluctantly I dragged my feet
and scuffed back towards the pavement
Carrying on walking past a School on the right,
not giving that school a second look as it disappeared out of sight.

My journey took me to the job center,
where I caught myself starring at my reflection in the window

The air felt humid
Inside my belly I sensed a storm was brewing
This was confirmed when i heard the squawk of a few seagulls flying above
If a seagull is 25 miles in land,
Mum always said that must mean there is a storm at sea

With a sense of urgency I quickened my pace
My foot steps rapidly tapping about 170 beats per minute
I remember passing a large house
With some exotic plants in the front garden
resembling a jungle,
overhanging a garage,
which had a large union jack sticker on the door

Behind the garage I could see into the garden where a minute football goal stood as the center piece
Lurking at the back in the shadows was a shed
I was pretty sure smoke was coming out from under the door.

I looked down at my feet
I noticed I was wearing a box fresh pair of Nikes
On closer examination I saw they were made of plastic
in fact,
all the clothes I was wearing,
which all happened to be brand new,
were made of plastic.
I put that observation to the back of my mind,
and carried on walking,
almost tripping over,
a dusty carpet casually discarded on the pavement.

I passed a red letter box,
as a police patrol car passed me,
the house on my right had an unkept front garden full of weeds,
the smell was strong.

I was beginning to become frustrated.
Stopping at a bustop I Looked at the timetable,
all the bus routes went round in circles.

The haze in the air was partly obscuring my vision.
The humidity was giving me a headache
Out of the blur a pub came into my focus
A Large grubby white St Georges Cross sat isolated on the roof
I popped inside and bought myself a watered down pint of gassy larger
In every corner of the pub big screens were showing boxing
Each telly screening a different fight

I finished my pint
wiping my lips with the back of my hands,
Stepped outside,
then inside
the conveniently placed kebab shop next door
Ordering a large donner and chips
I repeated that process several times.

A Ford Escort van stood parked on the side of the road
Again I checked my reflection
again I was wearing a brand new set of clothes
again I was wearing box fresh trainers this time they were Adidas
they were all made of plastic

I continued on with my journey,
passing another red letter box
A parade of shops came up with on the left.
Next to the dream bed superstore
was a stationary shop full of posters saying "we sell Bic Biro’s"
A lone cash machine was blinking at me on the end of the parade.

The pace of my feet had dropped from a swift 170 beat
to approximately 140 beats per minute
walking at a half step

The seagulls from earlier had disappeared
I assumed they'd left me and gone back to the sea
The storm must have passed through I still had the feeling in my belly

The architecture of the buildings began to change
Semi-detached and detached houses
had been replaced with high rise tower blocks and housing estates.

I saw another red letter box
I had on another new pair of plastic trainers
A brand new set of plastic clothes
Sensing something wasn’t right I quickened my pace
My walk turned to a run,
then a sprint
until another red letter box stood in my way
Tripping me up
Falling flat on my face

I got up,
dusted myself off
Checked my reflection in the reception of a smart glass paneled
office block
This time my clothes were plain and simple
I felt I had renewed energy so i resumed my walk
Until i came across a dead end
I looked too my right,
a no through road
to my left,
road works,
with a sign saying road closed.

This was the fifth dead end I'd come across that day.
I turned round to go back the way I came
What stood in front of me was not memory lane
but mum and dad's house
I sat on the back door step and listened to the sound of thunder lightening and rain.

Saturday, 25 September 2010

About Me

I grew up in a musical family and played the drums as a child, developing a love and obsession for rhythm.

Though I was exposed to many different types of music from an early age, it wasn’t until I began listening to Jungle / Drum and Bass that I felt inspired enough to write lyrics.

I spent a few years Mcing at various parties and nights around the Gatwick area, as well as Brighton, High Wycombe and latterly London.
After doing this, I was beginning to find that I enjoyed the expression that writing lyrics afforded me, and moved to Brighton in 2004 where I recorded various Hip Hop and Grime tracks as a rapper, under the name of Kase One.

It wasn’t until around Easter 2007, having recently left Brighton to move to London that I first went to a poetry night, at the suggestion of my father. I knew very little about poetry, and never would have expected it to be something I'd end up being involved with.

I began to write short poems and came to enjoy what I saw as freedom. I felt I could write about what I wanted, and was not restricted to a particular flow, rhythm, tempo or subject matter as I'd found with rapping.
I attended the Poetry Unplugged at the Poetry Cafe in London, and was inspired by the likes of Nial O'Sullivan, and visited on and off for a year or two. Through writing poetry I took an interest in short stories and enrolled on a course at Birkbeck College introduced me to many different writers and helped me devolved my craft.

After completing my writing course, I by chance one day, having had a loose arrangement to meet my Sister on a day off from work, saw a flyer and enrolled in a Young People's Theatre (YPT) term at Battersea Arts Centre (BAC).

Like Poetry, I knew very little about theatre and never envisioned myself being involved with it. The theatre course was one of the best experiences I've ever had and gave me confidence as a performer I'd never felt as an MC, rapper or performing poetry. Since that first YPT term I went ton o perform in 4 shows, went to Edinburgh in 2009 and 2010, and have helped a co-ordinate a major young people's festival.
t was BAC who made me aware of the Poetry Collective at the Roundhouse (I'd never heard of The Roundhouse.....) who was mentored by Polar Bear, whom I heard great things about at the Poetry nights I'd been too. After looking at Polar Bear's myspace page and website (and listening to “Moves” several thousand times on repeat) I signed up at the first opportunity.
Since being involed in the Roundhouse, and having regular writing sessions with Polar Bear and the rest of the collective, it has helped push me to levels I'd never thought I'd reach, and the best thing is, I feel I am only at the beginning.

In the last year I've won slams at Farrago, Lyric Lounge and Bang Said The Gun, and performed at places such as the Roundhouse, Battersea Arts Centre, Lyric Theatre Hammersmith, Richmix, Shunt, Oxford Universtity, Edinburgh Fringe Festival and many more.

Having grown up in the home counties, under the shadow of London, had several jobs and moved around so many times I've almost lost count, all of this, inspires me to write.

I sometimes have to take a reality check, and pinch myself, when I look tat he amazing people I'm so fortunate to be associated with, particularly since I became involved with both Battersea Arts Centre and the Roundhouse Theatre.
Everything I have done, every place I've been, and every person I've met on this so far windy back road that I have taken is an inspiration.

When I look around the room, at the other members of the Rubix, and take a second to observe how talented each member is, it only drives me on, and inspires me to work harder, keep pushing my ideas, and above all, keep enjoying it, because at the end of the day, I love writing and I love performing. There is nothing else I would rather do.

Paul Cree, September 2010


Welcome to my blog. I just got here, well, I actually 'got here' yesterday, but whilst sitting in some muggy Starbucks near London Bridge my laptop crashed and I lost the epic piece of prose that was the first blog.
Well, it wasn’t epic, and nor was it probably prose, just an introduction to whom I am and why I'm doing this.
I've started this blog because I would like to have an outlet for some of the stuff that I write. At the moment, this blog is only for me, because no one is following me, nor am I following anyone, I Havant figured that out yet, Rome weren’t built in a day though right? Not that I'm aiming for Rome though, I'd probably get sunburnt in a climate like that, and I'm not a fan of continental breakfasts (those muggy one's you get in hotels as cultured equivalent’s to cornflakes). Most of the stuff I write at the minute, which in due course will appear on here, is short stories, poems and the occasional rant. I'm an aspiring spoken word person, and writing and performing is what I love doing. This sight is more about the writing though. Yea? Cool.