Jeremy Strand is: Stem Courts, Self-Help Poet.

Overnight, Strand gave to me a piece of joy - his performance persona, all wrapped in bright, edible cellophane. Stem is an Australian poet who aims to soothe his audience and heal them by garnishing his personal experiences in gentle humour. His common themes include sex, relationships and the city. Jeremy began writing ideas as we caught the 86 bus from Chorlton to the All Saints campus. Although these initial poems appear to stray a little from his 'self-help' agenda, they are good exercise for Jeremy and certain lines may appear in criticised updates.

Untitled 2006

You stood over me, a pylon with the lights out
Drool, drip guilt
A sculptor's chisel to my
sad. nude. loss.

I reach for anything when
Even silence seems withheld.

I the child-drawn barcode
You scan my mass of signs
Apostrophes akimbo to the pedant.
You can choose now; it's time
Stay and scorn or laugh
Leave and laugh and scream

Just please be concise
My bladder is openly weeping
and my stomach is need of a toilet

Not bad, Stem. To my ears, the tone needs some adjustment.

Again, Love? 2006

I bought a single
To make a couple
I wore a tie
I break us up
Yes, you can have the bra back
Yes you can keep the gloves

On your crazy patio
Weeding, ten-to-three
Under the might of a security light
Bolstered by the beam
I realised
We'd be screwed without our screwing
Because we really do not match
The demands of aromantic fears
To which I lie to satisfy
Trust breaks into questions
You wonder why I would?
It's sex you lovely idiot
The rest can fall on blades
The rest of it can ache reborn
On ten pence problem page.

I only lied to please you
And that felt good two ways:
1) I was honest with myself
2) It made you happy.

Do it again only much better.

Man 2006

Man's varied
like plants and Pogs
stark smirks crack agog
at the dried drek from our gobs
Tread slow across fine divides
Fantasy categories chatroom clog
I know I, but I's so vauge
No sincere heritage
Little to share
A cauldron of symbols
Cooked pasta from Heinz.

For bus cast-offs these have potential. I will coax the author into making refinements. The other deposits looks rather like titles:

The Woes of Public Transport.
I've Dug Myself a Hole and You're Invited.

I've Dug Myself a Hole and You're Invited sets up a rhythm as a title alone. I will look into this hole. Now I am 'going' to work on my dissertation. I may or may not leave some text here, I feel that there is no reason to be precious about essay scraps. Look to the news just in case - Art Student's Battle for Originality has a poetic heart at least, and maybe even a soul.