Showing posts with label indiepoetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label indiepoetry. Show all posts

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Oldboy - New Poetry Album OUT NOW!

Spring is here, and a young man’s fancy turns to poetry, indie poetry, punk poetry slam, darkwave poetry, a dying rose by any other name and all that. Two years after my last audiobook I’m here with the new opus, Oldboy. And as Sir Humphrey Pengallan (Charles Laughton) defiantly sneers, “What are you waiting for? A spectacle? You shall have it!!!” So polish up your spectacles, Andy Seven Ltd. has returned.

Oldboy is my fourth audiobook of poetry, fifteen prose poems that up the ante from previous efforts. While past audiobooks featured poems with more traditional soundscapes, the new work features dark ambient, industrial neofolk mixes and drum and bass rhythm tracks.

All music mixes aside, Oldboy is a wild mosaic of sonnets dedicated to horror films (Sadako, Succubus), Robert Williams-inspired sports sleaze (Demolition Derby, Bantamweight Vs. Flyweight), and a triptych of Southern California gothic (Bougainvillea, California Boyfriend, The LA River).

The title, aside from the movie, comes from my theory that some males are men from the day they were born and always remain men, while others will always be boys, even when they’re pushing their Seventies. Some boys always inhabit an adult form. The same goes for females. Some women will always be young girls no matter how old they age.

Making the transition from punk singing to poetry recital wasn’t a Herculean task. When I sang with my band Trash Can School the most common remark I heard was that my vocals were “monotonous”. Whether I was aware of it or not, the monotony of my vocals probably meant that I chose to recite my lyrics as poetry.

I could make a case for it by saying that singing was never the objective but just reciting my prose. So, in a very loose sense I’ve always performed poetry recitals back in the days of my band and I’ve continued to this day.

Islington High Street was about my all-nighter at Islington Screen on The Green spent fifty years ago watching The Sex Pistols, Buzzcocks and other future superstars like Billy Idol and Siouxsie Sioux. Slumgullion is a piss-take on Willy the Shake’s classic plays, some of my favorites. I love the surrealism of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Saints and Sinners was about a real saloon in the heart of sleepy Culver City. Transfigured Night is my surreal take on a dream where I walked through a forest accompanied by mutilated lab test animals. The dream world continues with Succubus, nocturnal eroticism let loose upon the bedroom walls.

Those expecting sermons from the mount taking a political stand will be disappointed, as the only track that shows a political angle at all would be Carrot in The Donkey’s Eye, which criticizes the punishing exploitation of the average worker, the most offensive culprit being factory and warehouse environments. I suppose Smog lies somewhere in social commentary, too.

While I’m on the subject of poetry, what are your favorite movies about poets? We don’t get a lot of cinema space, I see movies about Bukowski, Kerouac, Sylvia Plath, but I’d like to see a film about Anne Sexton or Rod McKuen. Rod McKuen was an awful poet but his life story is utterly fascinating.

My favorite movie about a poet is Orpheus by Jean Cocteau about a popular poet despised by the hipster cognoscenti because his work is too successful. His best friend is a poet so jaded with writing that his next book will be a volume of nothing but empty pages. Doesn't get more existential than that!

But back to Oldboy, ahem: Some poems have been published in the past, i.e. Bantamweight Vs. Flyweight, Succubus, and California Boyfriend were featured in Horror Sleaze Trash. Other poems like Slumgullion, Transfigured Night, and Sadako were included in several Dawn of Darkness witch house compilations, available for listening at The Internet Archive.

Oldboy can be streamed on You Tube, Spotify, Pandora, Apple Music, Amazon Music, or Deezer. Hard media CDs can be purchased at Bandcamp. I’ll merch a few on eBay, too. Friends, Hollywood Babylonians, and countrymen, lend me your ears.

Friday, August 15, 2025

Your Father Told Lies And Your Mother Kept Secrets

Islington High Street

It was so very long ago
so very far away
it would last until the break of dawn they said
after all it’s banker’s holiday

One year short of Jubilee
Bicentennial summer was too lame for me
A California Yankee in Queen Elizabeth’s court
with catwomen, batwomen and a beautiful dark banshee

Something nicked not borrowed
something black and blue
destroy everything that’s old
we’ll show you the wonder of the new

That old decrepit theatre
became a circus with a purpose
with long goodbyes and tattered hellos
and the ghost of Ivor Novello

Topless girls dance to the Rollers
Kenneth Anger’s on the screen
Jackson Pollock’s army is in formation
like an ancient Roman’s dream

Something nicked not borrowed
something black and blue
destroy everything that’s old
we’ll show you the wonder of the new

The singer knocked out his funny tooth
with an old radio microphone
you can click your heels until they bleed
you’re far, far, far away from home

On Your Feet Or On Your Knees

Everything always started out as something
and something always came from nothing
I used to beat a path to The Pussycat Theater
Sunset 'n Western
it’s a Mexican revival house now
from Traci Lords to the House of Lord

On your feet or on your knees

Same story down Hollywood 'n Cherokee
cops cutting work at The Pussycat that’s a fact
swivel recliner seats
‘n the seats would squeak, rock and strain
Amber Lynn Christy Canyon Ginger Lynn
now it’s an Iglesia De Dios

On your feet or on your knees

They got on their knees on the silver screen
‘n they still get down on their knees
either way what can you say
they still end up catching a disease
Triple XXX rated with your money shot
pass the plate Maria in the name of God

On your feet or on your knees

Transfigured Night

I journeyed through the bleak black forest
It was such a black forest
clouds of black velvet
leaves of purple satin
grass like patent leather
in the cool damp nighttime weather

Dogs, rabbits and cats
mice, monkeys of all kinds and rats
some had their fur shaved
paws, eyes and claws
missing from a scientists’ blade

Animals marched along with me
monkeys swinging through the nocturnal trees
cells were exploding in my blood stream
monkeys shrieked and screamed

I reached into my pockets
there was enough to feed them all
some of them fought and played
I was there for awhile
don’t know how long I stayed

Bless you dear critters
for the lives that you’ve saved
but I’ve got incurable cancer, you see
I’m going to die, anyway

And the rats climbed around me
rabbits hopping round my feet
hamsters started to squeak
all the dogs licked my hands
cats rolled on their backs
and the monkeys flew from the trees

All poetry copyright 2025, Andy Seven Ltd.

Friday, July 18, 2025

If Poets Could Fly They'd Be Pissing On You

Smog

We held hands in the polluted gloom
looks of love over our respirators
there's a sun out there
somewhere
the sun and the stars
know the way
if we can see them through
sheets of brown and gray

Smog, smog, beautiful smog
choke and belching sets you retching
gasping and rasping like The Covid Kid
night time afters
huffing up white cocaine
day time smog
above the fruited plain

I can't see you because of smog
all I see of you are signs
in the form of gray outlines
we can't film today because of smog
the mayor hung himself because of smog
dirty air has you crying
this grimy cloud has no silver lining

Carrot In The Donkey's Eye

Well the wheels keep turning
engines never quit burning
stacks pumping steam
belching out toxic plumes of smoke
when the week's all done
what's left of your dreams

why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye

Where are my pennies from heaven
you can't sock it
how do you coin it
how do you get it
with hole's burning right through your pocket

why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye

If you want to feel like a common workhorse
come one come all
and join the exhausted workforce
but the devil has your back
cause you're whoring out for cash

why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye

Sing for your supper
and you pay the piper
all the well meaning creditors
all the smiling predators will make you a debtor
for the rest of your life

why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye

Slumgullion

Four witches stirring up
a boiling cauldron
what's that smell
it stinks like hell
tastes like a bowl of old bouillabaisse and rotting onions
could only be slumgullion

Juliet lies dead
and all the birds have fled
the fish lay upside down
love's labour lost all around
spare the dagger childe it's all in fun
just eat the slumgullion

Willie the Shake
made a terrible mistake
as you like it well I don't
Portia and Banquo didn't
eat it for pleasure
they tried to shoot it measure for measure
just say no dear Hamnet son
pray don't try the slumgullion

Well the nights of midsummer
drive jaded pagans to plunder
Titania my Titania
surrendered to Oberon
just for a sip of his enchanted
slumgullion

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are still dead
but they’re luckier than Yorick
alas poor one just another shrunken head
Ophelia and Cordelia
had as much as they could stand
as Othello mainlined slumgullion
into the veins of his hands

(what a turn up for the books)

All poems Copyright 2025, Andy Seven Ltd.

Saturday, March 23, 2024

Scorpio Rising poetry album OUT NOW

Spring is here, and a young man’s fancy turns to poetry, whether it be in the form of a chapbook or a full-blown poetry album, like my new release Scorpio Rising. Named after the Kenneth Anger film (as well as dedicated to his memory), Scorpio Rising is my third poetry release and is out now for your listening pleasure.

The themes on the album run the gamut from inner city ghetto stories (Killed For His Clothes, Skyscraper Soul, Sidewalk Camp) to the occult (Bottle Tree Garden, Smudge, Sun In Scorpio) to my favorite standby, noir (Drugs And The Woman, High Speed Chase, Cocktails Cigarettes Birth Control). Yes, the femmes fatales get their due…and then some.

My noir poems continue the thread started from my previously published noir novels, these tracks can even be heard as tiny noir plot outlines.

The occult poetry is influenced by my long-lived fascination with Hollywood jazz age gothic dalliances in cults, rituals, and fetish items. Many remaining art deco homes in Pasadena and the Hollywood Hills still court the legend of being haunted by spirits. Even The Angelus Temple, a Christian showplace for Aimee Semple McPherson is known for harboring its share of ghosts.

What distinguishes this release from the others is the introduction of the Irish bouzouki on several tracks, it being a folk instrument normally used as backup accompaniment to guitars, but here used as a lead instrument.

It’s an instrument with four sets of double strings like a mandolin and tuned to a G-D-A-D, not the accustomed G-D-A-E setting. Because of this tuning one gets a droney, exotic Eastern sound. I call the tuning Gee, Dad…hoho.

I also went for a bit of drum and bass/jungle music rhythm on Cockfight and to a lesser degree on High Speed Chase, charging up the BPMs (Beats Per Minute) into the 275-300 setting, giving both tracks a manic, frantic pace to match my prose.

Here is the track listing:
1. Dogs Keep Barking
2. Killed For His Clothes
3. Skyscraper Soul
4. Cockfight
5. Drugs And The Woman
6. Cocktails Cigarettes Birth Control
7. Smudge
8. The Butcher’s Beautiful Daughter
9. Sidewalk Camp
10. Bottle Tree Garden
11. Angel Feathers
12. Sun In Scorpio
13. High Speed Chase

As usual there’s the dichotomy between electronic and folk music tracks, and in neofolk style they even converge more than a few times. If you like Current 93 or Death In June then this will strike a familiar vibe.

I’m very proud of my new collection of sonnets – sonic sonnets, if you will. Scorpio Rising is highly accessible in CD, download or streaming formats. If you want the CD it can be bought at CD Baby, Discogs, Amazon, or you can DM me for a personal copy.

Downloads can be bought at Apple Music or Amazon Music, where they can also be streamed. If you’d rather hear streams you can check it out at You Tube, Spotify, Pandora, or Deezer, where you can also stream my previous albums, Minstrels Anonymous and Sea Level Drive.

Sunday, March 12, 2023

High Speed Chase

High Speed Chase

YOU CAN’T CATCH ME
YOU CAN’T CATCH ME

Concrete canyoned freeway
flickering lights atop chiaroscuro blur
down the highway

SIRENS! CRYING! WAILING! LIKE BIRDS OF FIRE!

Pistons pumping petrol
the master cylinder moves & grooves & slips & slides
all aboard for crime time

YOU CAN’T CATCH ME
YOU CAN’T CATCH ME

Run baby run
GTA in the Chevrolet 10-80 in the Ferrari
high octane zebras running after the little GTO metal rodeo

THE LONG ARM OF THE LAW IS BROKEN-UNSPOKEN

Dashcam dashcam battering rams
bodycam bucking backfire a rebop
throttling down with wheels of fire

YOU CAN’T CATCH ME
YOU CAN’T CATCH ME

“We’ve had enough of this shit”
“Come on guys lay out the freeway nail strip”
and then it all crashed
crashed and smashed, the inevitable end

Wednesday, December 7, 2022

Sidewalk Camp

This was a poem I wrote in response to political candidates using the homeless as a scapegoat in their pursuit of wininng votes. As someone who was once homeless himself I wanted to say something about this.

By the way, if you like what you hear please follow me on SoundCloud.

Saturday, July 16, 2022

Story Telling Time

This one wants to cheat on her boyfriend
with me and I
This one wants to cheat on her husband
with myself and me

They have to tell a story
"he passes out and farts after he's done"
"he's not a real man"
"he goes to strip clubs but laughs at me in a bikini"
Shakespearean tragedies
these aren't the merry wives of windsor

I'm the cheat sheet
when they cheat
they want andy
andy andy seven drive me to heaven

Unhappy women
shower in my spiderweb sperm
spreading my juice
all over their breasts
smearing it on their thighs
using my jizz for lipstick
while screaming about
their shitty boyfriends