Perciphone Petticoat - Poetic Theatrical Performer Extraordinaire Writer, composer, singer songwriter, musician, poet and producer; a unique, captivating and sometimes challenging face in the world of performance. Much of her work is individual, with all stages up to performance completed by herself. Perciphone also invites collaboration with other artists, either for performance, music making, poetry, film and theatre. Music She has been writing and singing since early childhood and collaborates with other musicians to make ambient and peace enhancing sounds as can be witnessed here at her music site: http://www.myspace.com/perciphone Entertainment Pooling a variety of skills and creating convincing soundscapes to accompany her words, Perciphone uses enchanting lines, beguiling and pallatable; weaving their way in and out of the cold hard truths often being projected. From surreality to social dysfuntion - sexuality to empathy, fairytales to self harm, Perciphone Petticoat often flirts on a rather risque edge. However, pertinent subjects delivered graphically, are often skillfully tempered according to musicality and backing sounds: allowing ideas that would otherwise be unpallatable - to be considered. This is no ordinary show. Witness Perciphone morph into different characters again and again - earning her the reputation of 'Chameleon' and keeping us transfixed and intrigued as to what we will be confonted with next: http://www.myspace.com/perciphonepetticoat2 Children Perciphone uses atmospheric soundscapes, voices, characters, costumes and props to create entertaining sets and theatrical stories for children. These shows contain nothing of the challenging content of her adult shows but retain all of the fairytale charm: http://www.myspace.com/perciphonepetticoat Education 'Percitales' is a new project currently being developed for children's education. Percitales take us on fantasy jourmeys full of magicals twists and splls to enliven the senses and enrichen the imagination. There are frequent references to conscientous behaviours - and traditional structures and themes can easily be found within the individuality of each tale: http://www.myspace.com/perciphonepetticoat Some have asked for hard copies of Percitales to be provided. Children love to listen to these tales and should there be sufficient demand, there will be a range of Percitales educational stories provided, each highlighting a humanistic theme, such as the value of sharing, of telling the truth, of teamwork and so on. If you have an interest, contact Perciphone via the "bookings" link, below. Bookings Perciphone Petticoat, poetic theatrical performer extraordinaire, is available for private hire, for parties and celebrations and those special ocasions that deserve something completely different. Also public events; cabarets, festivals, clubs, schools and street parties. Perciphone also provides one to one tuition for those wishing to take poetry performance to another level. Please contact: email@example.com.
Poets Ode (6-07) Find me a poet to tell me a story Let him weave wonderful landscapes for me Please let him show all the listeners before me The ones afterwards and the ones presently That we are coloured by brushes of splendour Paving a path so we can become free Of our illusions, confusions, contusions Guised by our fear of disunity Find me a poet to tell me a story I'm listening fully, down here on my knees Please let him show all - not keep back his secrets His tales and his morals; a compass for me Let all his colours fill out this life picture Showing me landscapes yet virgin to me Challenge my visions, taking me deeper Into my origin - mass unity +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The Unspoken (Perc/Saz c2007) I am the words that aren’t being spoken The emotions that won’t be expressed The ideas that remain hidden I am the sinner that can’t be blessed I am the virgin door The sky-less cloud The flightless wing The loveless shroud The arid tears The silent scream The rock and the hard place The broken dream Oh Fatherland, swallow me whole Have you ever been eaten alive ‘Til all you feel’s your soul Touching helps....sometimes But the price is high for a lullaby Yeh the price is high for a lullaby And it all fades to brown anyway It all fades to brown +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Lost You hurt me and hurt me and hurt me and hurt me and hurt me and hurt me Until I’m convinced that I’m just blood I forget that I’m the vessel too The sturdy trestle table You hurt me ‘til I’m convinced that I’m just blood +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Poetry Slam I’m not here to make enemies but I don’t need friendship Cause even if I had ten of these – I’d still be suppin’ a lem-sip alone if I was down cause I ain’t a friggin’ loser I know me mates are grand but they’re always down the boozer You might imagine this is one of those jigs to get you tappin’ Or some lame message layered in with fancy tish-tosh wrapping But it ain’t the case, I’m in your face, so listen to my story Cause I’m a helluva pissed, and ready to hiss if you ain’t voting for me I came to University to study and get some dosh fast But what a fool it’s the same as school, unless you know how to ‘posh fart’ Posh farting might be your thing – but it ain’t amongst my tick tacks If I’m gonna pretend, and have to defend I might as well have a dick sack I ain’t naming names although the SU and welfare know you You ain’t here tonight or if you are – ‘doors there, we’ll show you’ An if anyone’s grinnin’ and winkin’ - and thinking my slamming’s stinking You’ll eat your words, if he gets to your bird and get’s her dreams all sinking You might wanna know before I go that I came to University Lived a helluva life, a young Mum and wife and there were a helluva lot worse than me Now I’ve done the tests with all the rest and still it's just perversity I didn’t come here to end in tears and fight unfair adversity So I’ve changed my path and instead of half, I’m totally English Creative I’m not near the oaf who befuddled my loaf; he’s left to the psycho’s related Cos ‘ologies’ aint my thing anymore and I’m out of the Freudian mosh pit And away from the gay who had his own way and I’m telling you I almost lost it Like I said I’m not here to make enemies but I could do with friendship Cause chillin’ with all me boozy mates is better than suppin’ a lem-sip alone if I was down cause I aint a friggin’ loser Me mates are grand so understand why we’re always down the boozer +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Whispering Time Why does life seem like a puzzling test? No picture box to see which piece fits best How are we finding our way to what’s real? Can we rely on the way that we feel? Everything started in context alone Authentic origins taking us home Then over whispering time they deform Out of their meaning they’re plucked, prised and torn Tell me, you want a jigsaw that’s complete How would we learn to stand on our own feet? If we could copy the view on the top Porcelain craft would remain a clay pot For just like the heat in a kiln transforms Struggles precede revelations reborn +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Spicy Chai Redundancy Spicy Chai tea soothing her wounds Deep in the night she’s there alone Without a glance at the stalwart phone Knowing that nobody knows where she is, how she is, maybe even - if she is Anymore It escapes her now - and makes her furrowed brow as fixed as shelled walnut Freshly baked smells; date and walnut Linger from the years he was there Flashbacks of times when somebody cared Thinking those thoughts that stay only with her, no whisper, murmuring breath, just nothing But endings Loose ends like threads hang – aimlessly threatening to fray into nothingness Dreams scattered into nothingness Multiple fractures of the soul No agreement or truce to hold Wanting to exit un-noticed, with grace, no judgement, a clean break, forevermore Un-exist Allowed to bow out – elusive and indiscernible; a single point Draws a breath; but what is the point Funds a will to wash the skirting Threatens to over-spill with hurting Hanging the ball point over her notepad, pensively, undecidedly static Frozen Doodles are all done – and words so nonsensical; rhythm is out of time Spicy Chai tea held so warm in time All that remains of quality That left and took her dignity Yes she knows he left on the wrong basis; but how could she tell him and cut him to Pieces In redundancy, Spicy Chai tea, although inane – was all that made sense +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Princess Cora Picture her lazing on a paper-mache chair The dress of glass she never wore; her polystyrene hair Ice-cream melts within her eyes Fantasy between her thighs But is she really there? She sips you slowly through a candy-striped straw Whispers from those pale pink lips, things you’ve never heard before Her nails are made of rubber You long to be her lover You long to be her lover You long to be her lover
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Bit on the Side (01/11/2007)
Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.