some poems for performance
By gristo
a range of poems from the last year that I've been used to performing in pubs.
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My response to an angry female poet
A response to a perfomance I witnessed at an open mic night a little while ago :)
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'A teacher, eh?'
The starter is removed Our main course emerges And when I’m asked what I do for a living Our host’s reaction verges On the incredulous Half digested food that’s been fed to us
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A message worth inking out
At 17 years old I was called a ‘jitter’ in my home town Now ‘jitters’ were guys that were renowned for our frowns And our interest in the post grunge sound
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An ode to my ipod
I’ll never forget the day that we first met Unwrapping you to reveal a thrilling statuette. I wasn’t experienced in the manners of Ipod etiquette And felt all flustered and awkward.
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Back seat music
At one time the only music in my world Was the music in my parents’ car And it wrapped round me as we travelled far and wide Now, a confession.
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bottled
Here, swilled within the cracks that you made Other couples seem warped; Green Bunnies on strings, a candyfloss lie Revolving door sins, forget me not eyes Distant smiles, eyelashes,
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Come to Peterborough!
Come to Peterborough! A place of unusual beauty With houses so cheap most don’t pay stamp duty Our team may be called ‘the posh’ but believe me they ain’t snooty
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I want a girl who reads
“So, what do you go for in a girl?” He crows, lifting a lager to his lips Gestures where his mate sits Downs his glass “He prefers tits I prefer ass. What do you go for in a girl?”
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I dream of Ties
I wish I had a handsome tie that was suave, silk and slick, One with flair, that’s debonair and would enchant with just one flick, Yeah, I’d like that… A tie that’s hypnotizing,
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The day the X box 360 died
The news hit like a tsunami tide Leaving me feeling raw and empty inside I just remember thinking ‘why?’ while Andy rocked and cried The day our x box 360 died.
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I long to be on your mind
I long to be on your mind Like those celebrity heartthrobs that grind Their way through your thoughts All tough and action And I’m sure that I could offer satisfaction Like those guys
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Montgomery, Montgomery
Montgomery, Montgomery The greatest cad in history A weasel sly and Slippery In expensive cotton frippery His smile so slick and buttery Makes the ladies tummies fluttery
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So here's to you, Mrs. Robinson
This poem is made out of song lyrics that radio Cambridgeshire listeners sent in. The idea was to see whether a narrative could emerge from all these seperate lyrics. :)
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The British are coming!
The British are coming The British are coming Shunning magnolia for foreign hues much more stunning Gunning their Peugeots upon clogged motorways
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Mike Taboo
By his first Wednesday in school Everyone knew who Mike Taboo was The new student; a foreign gargoyle, Crack in the fairytale, black as charcoal, Sasquatch footsteps that pumped our tarmac.
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Infinite Gary
Knowing him from work He was the pale, serious one. Gary. Bland, A management skull In grey wafer suit. The champion Of protocol, A self brainwashed recruit. A silky tie, a buggy eye,
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I'm really, really, really, really good at board games
A very silly grime battle-rap that I wrote for a show called 'Dead poets' - www.deadpoetry.co.uk . The boardgames were all suggested by people who emailed me.
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Why I'm angry
It isn't the fact that she was rude, It isn't the detention that she missed, Or the list of obscenities she's hurled at other students,
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you are the hottest of all of the gingers
This is a ridiculously silly piece for a friend who thought her red hair wasn't very attractive. I kin dof got carried away with it and I must apologise for some of the rhymes :)
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Comments
Some of these can be a bit
www.deadpoetry.co.uk