Tony Hickson

Tony is from Newcastle originally he trained as a photographer and moved to London in 91 .he joined the circus in 1996 and trained as a trapeze artist fire eater and knife thrower he travelled around the UK for 5 years before training as an actor he has appeared in Byker Grove as well as 3 feature films and a number of shorts.He is also a film maker with his short Nasty  splurty brains being shown in New York , Berlin and the Abattoir film festival in Aberystwith .He is also a musician  ,stand up and poet his hobbies are urban exploring and model making.

Tony on Youtube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVZJA6vxh28

The Joke shop man

How much is that dog turd in the window

My breath like a fish hook is bated

The de lux turd is 50p ,but this one is 30p

Comes the reply

I stare down at the change in my hand

Shit is as ,as shit does I think to myself

I will have the 30p one

I still have some money left

Plastic flies or stink bombs

Nail through the finger at 65 pence

is like a nail through my heart

the choices are endless

I see the joke shop man he has no face

his pockets never empty

plastic flies I say

he puts his hand on my shoulder

like an overfriendly uncle

and laughs

his laugh is itself of time

and like time is endless

Dr FUMBLEBONE

No ordinary maladay have I

so I seek the council of an

extraordinary man

Dr Fumblebone

freelance surgeon

Dr of mataphsyics

self taught by correspondence course

his needle work is the talk of many a sewing circle

he cured the woman who wouldnt stop crying

he sewed her eyes shut for a fortnight

the nights are long and cold and dead

his waiting room is never empty

LOVE IS

 Love is like a red red razor blade

Scarlet blood drips out off the cuts you made

Wrenching your white wrists apart

Slicing scarlet to your very heart

The blood drips down ino a well

Drowning in a bloody dell

A girl appears into this dark scene

Not knowing where to go or whence shed been

She looks down this bloody well

and sees a darkness to grim to tell

And surley she pulls the bucket up

and with her own lifes blood fills her cup

She sees her own lifes true sorrow

And prays for death before tomorrow

The sun has gone her soul has dies

Having poured her blood in suicide