THE death of Ben Zephaniah came as a huge shock to me, and I have known him for 41 years: he  was always a very private person, so I’m not surprised that only those closest to him knew his diagnosis. 

So much has been written about him in the last few days, and rightly so: he was one of the greatest performance poets of all time and, as a performance poet should, he spent his life taking poetry to places it doesn’t normally go. 

Here I add my own special tribute, as someone who knew him from the very start of his explosive presence in the world of spoken word. 

Benjamin’s roots were in reggae, obviously, but they were also very much in punk. When I first met him in 1981-82 it was doing spots in between bands at punk gigs and at countless political benefits allied to the scene. And we had a mutual inspiration: the legendary, but these days sadly overlooked, east London punky singer-songwriter genius Patrik Fitzgerald. 

I remember Ben telling me how it was hearing Patrik’s song Work. Rest. Play. Reggae which inspired him to finally break away from his Birmingham roots and the criminal gangs he had been involved in, move to London and fulfil his ambition of becoming a poet. 

He had a wonderful, unique accent, a mix of Brummie and Jamaican: when I first met him I couldn’t work out where he was from, then he mentioned Aston Villa, and it all fell into place. 

He ended up living in east London — near to Patrik, in the heart of the punky/alternative scene — and soon began to make his mark. He became one of our original “ranting poetry” crew alongside the late, great Seething Wells, Joolz, Little Brother and myself and his first single was called Dub Ranting. We did the London New Variety circuit and the Edinburgh Fringe together. 

His horizons soon broadened and he soared all over the world, but we still kept in touch: when I moved back to my home town of Southwick in the 90s and started putting on gigs at our local theatre he was happy to come and perform, and his warmth, intelligence, love of words and commitment to humanity shone through for all to see. 

And that was never more the case than in his final gift to me. I have always loved reggae, talkover and dub poetry, and when, a couple of years ago, my friend Chris Fallon sent me some of his son Kingsley Salmon’s wonderful dubs, I decided to do a dub poetry album, and wondered what people would make of it. 

“I’ll send it to Benjamin” I thought. The next thing I knew he had filmed himself dancing to it in his studio and stuck the result on his Facebook page. Words cannot express what that meant to me. 

Goodbye, Ben, my old friend: you were open, inspirational and loving, your words will echo round the word, your spirit will touch millions, and we will never forget you. 

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And it is fitting that my eulogy should be followed by a short review of Amplify, a new poetry collection by another of our original ranting crew, then known as The Big J, now simply as Janine Booth. 

Janine allies a mastery of traditional poetic forms to a passionate commitment to socialism and a biting sense of humour, and her work draws on her decades of work as a trade union activist and disability rights campaigner. Amplify certainly gets brilliant feedback from me, especially for the title poem, Ribbons of Scarlet, her moving farewell to our mutual friend Stefan Cush, late lamented leader of rabblerousing rebels The Men They Couldn’t Hang, and Sight Lost, Depth Regained, a wonderful tribute to the ability of her single remaining eye to adapt to the shock of losing its companion and focus again.  

Available from: www.janinebooth.com

And finally... the Seagulls, obviously. We beat Olympique Marseille and finished top of the Europa League Group of Death! Wonderful atmosphere on and off the pitch from OM fans. As with their anti-fascist comrades from AEK, a credit to their clubs. 

We were very lucky to have them both in our group for our first ever European tour. Their respect for our long battle to save our club and our quietly-stated progressive stance was obvious. And the way they lit flares to celebrate OUR goal was, well, touching! 

And well done to our brilliant fanbase: in our three away trips we have been a credit to the club, gathering plaudits wherever we go. Now our brilliant, exhausted, injury-hit, “big club” poached squad have a little matter of Arsenal tomorrow. See you there. 

For further info please visit https://www.facebook.com/attilathestockbroker and/or https://attilathestockbroker.bandcamp.com/merch