I am from north Wales. Living here changes your perspective on life. Yr Wyddgrug is a small town; the wind & rain stream through your soul, the trees crawl under your skin, the mountains sing. It’s a beautiful place to be...
I write and perform poems, stories & songs, organise events (www.theabsurd.co.uk) and facilitate poetry workshops. I believe that communities working together (www.cittaslow.org.uk) to support each other is the only real future for us all.
‘Prophecy (Conversations with my Self)’, my first pamphlet, can be downloaded for free from www.sophiemckeand.com.
The new project, 'DRKMTR', an experiment with poetry, sound and art was launched early 2012, with Steve Nicholls (sound & production) and Andy Garside (visuals/art). The album was released Spring 2012. Live shows to follow...
“A lively and exciting performer” Childe Roland
"Sophie is a fantastic performer of her spoken words. They provoke, challenge, charm and connect with the listener on a very human level and are the very stuff of what poetry should do to us. I believe her poems and know she will play her part in the culture of Wales and beyond” Patrick Jones
Gigs, events and more live recordings can be found at: www.sophiemckeand.com
(The attached audio piece was produced by Mr Phormula - find him at www.mrphormula.com)
I have tried to write you -
failed time and again to capture your depth
the way in which you move
there is electricity -
the likes of which I cannot fathom
in darkness that swells
I would be lost in you
I marvel at those who are found in you
but I would be lost
I would talk moonshine
bask in your shallows
surf thoughts that froth over cresting waves
embrace the lie that is the warmth of you
dive through surreal
sink into profane
disperse in profound undercurrents
words cannot embody you
or are drained of light before dawning -
unplumbed you remain
and I an empty shell
beached like so many masquerading voices
that whisper your name
tides (part 1)
(from Prophecy - Conversations with my Self)
she flies with the tides
and the thirteen cycles of the moon
doesn’t she know it’s safe indoors?
doesn’t she want to be clean?
she wraps herself in rotting leaves
in the very shit from the earth
she sings to the rising moon, my love
and flies with the tides
tides (part 2)
change is here
and who knew?
(when nobody could know)
and who saw?
(when nobody could see)
and whose testimony will be read when the light goes out?
(I keep no records)
in defiance of death
(when nothing escapes)
is this the last
are these the last
here are the last days
not great enough
(could anything have been great enough?)
to hold steady these souls
when the wave of change
I would have told you
(if I’d have known)
I could have held you
(if I knew)
I should have felt the tides
ebb and fade
ebb and fade
ebb and fade
and all the money in the world
and all the tea in china
what was there
is not there
no longer here
swept out from under the carpet
and into the long dark night
for the dissatisfied soul -
open the floodgates
and to never be
(although stillness can be found in the heart of a lake)
oh to be a lake
of such tiny proportions
for each emotion
than the “storm in a teacup” -
(when the moon shone I knew better)
anger does not hold me
regret does not cloak me
memories do not choke me
but change calls me
into the dawn
where once you held me
where once you knew me
where once you saved me
could I lie here
and stay forever?
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
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