Biography

Cayn White, a performance poet based in West Yorkshire, started performing poetry over three years ago (or Saturday 10th September 2005 at 9pm to give the actual date and time!) supporting Attila the Stockbroker and (fortunatly) is constantly improving from that fatefull night in Hebden Bridge.
Influenced by the likes of Attila the Stockbroker, Nick Tocseck, Tv Smith and John Cooper Clarke (among many others) his poems touch on a range of subjects from the pollitically motivated to the humourous to the downright surreal.
Cayn has performed countless gigs in the past three years including, Punk gigs, Poetry nights, World Music Festivals, Awards Ceremonies, Anti Racist Gigs, and many fund raisers for various causes proving he knows where to put his heart.
As well as these gigs and numerous radio appearances he has also supported John Cooper Clarke, Attila the Stockbroker, Nick Tocseck, Tv Smith, Sham 69, Goldblade, The Anti Nowhere League, Gbh and various other poets and bands.
Cayn who is now working harder than ever before with many projeccts on the go now has the strongest material to date and is looking to showcase his poems and stories anywhere in the Uk, to book him email Cayn666@btinternet.com
Speaking of books, Cayns first collection of poems under the title of "Drunk and Incapable" somehow managed to sell out of all copies in just over two months, a re-print is been considered

Disclaimer: When booking or watching Cayn White please realise that he is what is often referred to as a "Punk Poet" and therefore may be slightly different to the poets you are used to watching. His poems also touch on a variety of subjects that although meant as comedic can rub people the wrong way so if you are easily offended you have been forewarned!
Also Cayn White hates drunken people who can't heckle properly, if you are going to heckle, please try and be a little bit sober and say something intellegent or funny, that way he won't be able to get the better of you and you won't leave the gig feeling angry and embarrased!

Samples

A Glimpse Of God

As such, she wasn't much of a religious person
But she did once catch a glimpse of God,
In the form of a drunken, foul mouthed, abusive creature
Known, rather laughably, as her husband
She didn't do anything wrong of course
(People in these type of situations seldom do)
Except ask where he's been
And wonder out loud why he was in such a state
But from too much lager decended a red mist
Along with a fist
She caught the blow
And her first glimpse of "God"

Meanwhile:
Upstairs, lay the only evidence that love did once exist between that couple
Just the one piece of evidence, mind you, in the form of a child,
He laid there, scared, frightened,
Not knowing what to do
Not aware of what caused the trouble
Just aware that it was present.
And he lay there,
Frightened, that one day he may have to pick sides
Between the two people whom he loved,
In the way most children loved their parents of course.
But it would be that unconditional love that would be the first casuality
In years to come, when the custody battles and the social services
Become a horrific reality

The neighbours, obviously tried to help,
But only moved in once the trouble was finished
And it was too late
But it gave them the feelgood factor
And something to gossip about,
Before getting back to there dull, dreary, non-soap opera like lives
After all it was just a drunken man out on the batter,
And no-one was "really" hurt-
Were they?

Cayn White 2008
______________________________________________________

Silly Kids games


Silly kids games
The games we'd play
Leaving our parents in dismay
Living for the moment, everything spontaneous
Mum rips her hair out telling us to act serious
But maturitys for adult and we don't wanna go there yet
We have no interest in families, jobs and debt
Happy with our youth, wild and free
But soon enough adulthood would tie it's noose around me
Suddenly found myself in a place of work
With responsibilities I just couldn't shirk

I met some of my childhood friends recently in shirts and ties
And we eached swapped stories using over-exaggerations and lies
Sat in a bar getting ever so slightly pissed
Talking about lives that didn't really exist
Silly kids games takes a whole new twist

On leaving that meeting I noticed we hadn't really changed
We're still playing silly kids games only with the rules slightly rearranged
Games of one-upmanship are still been staged
Sometimes trying to act as though we haven't truely aged
And this is when the penny starts to fall
Maybe we're not as different as the kids we were after all.

Cayn White 2008
_____________________________________________________
The New Rock And Roll

Take to the stage
Red in the face
We're set to amaze
Ready to set your world ablaze
This is what we do, we're in total control
This is our poetry, the new rock and roll


Come to the gig and what do you find?
No instruments for us to hide behind
No crap, no lies, just you and me
Performances packed wall to wall with energy
Staying true to ourselves, never to sell our souls
This is what we do, this is our rock and roll


And then when you look into my eyes
You see not one hidden extra, not one suprise
Just a beating heart with no apologies
Not an on stage politician with bullshit policies

And after three years I might have gone on too long
I'm still going nowhere, but still going strong
Giving it all I have, heart body and soul
This is what I do, this is my rock and roll

Cayn Whtie 2009

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Last blog entry

Punk Rock Revival

Posted on Thursday 4th June 2009 2:35 pm

Punk Rock Revival

Go to a gig unlike any other
All the young punks are accompanied by their mother
Pay a kings ransom to get in, then oh what a sight
It's all tartan skirts and celuite
Punk Rock Revival
All the DJ plays is from '77
The nostalgic punks think they're in heaven
All the new bands mean nothing to them
They're content with been ignorant and 16 again
But the beer isn't as cheap as the Chelsea Nightclub
And much more expensive than any other pub
But theres no point in complaining as it'll still bloody sell
And the main band are on now and oh bloody hell
Another tribute act from a bygone age
I paid a fortune to see this shambles on stage
The singer is off his head, staring at me with pretty vancant eyes
Before breaking into a set which I automatically despise
All songs from someone elses heyday, same old story is told
Belting out messages to kids now over thirty years old
Stopping every so often to shout the word "anarchy"
Nothing anarcho about it you may as well just scream apathy
I couldn't wait to get out of that door
And left that gig more disillusioned than before
I stared at my cd collection thinking has punk really come to this
All banal tribute acts and watered down piss?
I look through my albums and think of the new bands
Going by unnoticed, gigging all over the land
Not relying ofn hits byThe Pistols or The Clash
Not hoping for fame or heaps of cash
Just plodding along with their brave new sound
Little by little they're beaking new ground
Playing fast and playing loud
Making punks old and new feel bloody proud
So to all the money grabbing bastards I have just this say
Stuff your punk rock revival 'cos we never went away


Cayn White
2009

Previous: My Bacon Sandwich Sneezed on me

View or make comments. (5 comments)

Read other blog entries by Cayn White