Stephen James Smith's Open Mic Night at the International Pub... Downstairs in the lounge

Late last night, in a drunken haze, I sat at this old laptop. Reflecting on the evening, the music, the poetry, the ambiance and the whole point behind Open Mic nights.

Stephen James is an engaging host, rattling of poems from the depths of his mind, creating an atmosphere where even the most shit scared amateur can feel comfortable.

If I went through the acts one by one I would miss someone out. I would also probably be offensive unintentionally. The guy who played the banjo was awesome, would not have expected that voice from that man, sort of like the singer Anastasia.

There was the first poet, who read out four or five short poems, had a rather fantastically sculpted beard - not unlike Craig David.

This one guy, who dressed like a Teddy Boy made everyone applaud his girlfriend/ wife/ carer. But the sentiment of the poems was powerful all the same, even if he did elongate the last syllable of his line endings.

I did some of my own stuff and was shitting bricks, I did an anti religion one and wasn't glassed or stoned as a heretic, so I was rather pleased about that. It is difficult to judge your own performance, so I won't.

Various recited a poem from scratch, which fair fucks to her (to steal a Lancashire-ism) I couldn't do it.

Another singer did an interesting version of "Don't You Want Me Baby". And I suppose that is the point, as Stephen himself says, "to create a place where people can express themselves safely". Even if ye never perform or are like me totally tone deaf you should attend.

Anyways, I am off.