If I was truely proficient all this would be written in the third person. But Sophie Hall the poet doesn't like that much. Writeoutloud are damn nice. Since I joined I have won poem of the month, and a slam. I will always love them so, and squeeze their collective squishy cheek. I have performed in London, Leeds, Manchester, Bolton and Hebden Bridge thus far and started performing when I was 19 years old. Now I'm 107. I recently came 2nd in the Manchester Literature Festival's annual poetry slam too. Mighty fine. In a sort of '2nd place' kind of way. So more like Slightly Fine. BUT FINE NONETHELESS...anyway. I have a blog. It's purple. http://pleonasticfantastic.wordpress.com/
************* CAPUT MORTUUM ************* I care not for the manner in Which I retrieve my Anadin But I require Aspirin I dare not ever grasp the gin That did this to my head again That killed dignity dead like when I chose to rap to Eminem, Chasing Cava with M&Ms Bastard. Pass the ice pack please I’ve done something odd to my knees Sod it – that’s fine, the frozen peas. I may have been attacked by bees Well something died last night at least There is an air of forms deceased Something or other rests at peace Although that might just be the cheese So - we sang Sally Cinnamon Eight times last night in succession I can’t believe I thought you fun. You sodding Caput Mortuum. ****** ORANGE ****** This is an orange. And how - storange it is. It's curdling with juices And it's used on cabooses. How storange it is. It's brimming to the edge With zesty sweet sap And I'm cutting a wedge For my teeth to entrap This is an orange. And I bought it from Norwich. How Storange is that? This is an orange That got caught in a door hinge This is an orange That I must say has more tinge Of a reddish burnt sienna than orange. How storange is that? **** **** ILU2 **** “I love you.” - I know, me too But not all the time like you do I know we’re too far from each other And yet I’m technically your lover But please don’t call me by ‘sweetheart’ I know we’re miles and miles apart But don’t woo me with clichéd art Don’t take me on a horse and cart My organs aren’t confectionary Why not look in a dictionary? Don’t take my hand and smile like that Don’t stroke my hair, I’m not a cat A twat perhaps, starting a spat But not a saccharine kitty cat I’m not a saccharine kitty cat I just don’t need that pity pat Don’t talk to me like lovers do Annie Lennox hadn’t a clue We are no longer star-crossed teens We’re not Sonnet number eighteen Stop adding sugar to the tea You know it’s far too sweet for me You know too much will rot my teeth You know I love you underneath The numerous layers of plaque You’d see that if you scraped it back But this is love, not dentistry, Don’t push, or I’ll resent it, see? You don’t have to love me like this Don’t cling to me, you’re not a cyst You’re forcing momentary bliss You’re puncturing it with every kiss I really need you to stop this You think you’re hitting when you miss I’m not a saccharine kitty cat, I’m just trying to tell you that - I’m just trying to tell you that - I think I love you too. ****
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
TOPICAL NEWS POEM (02/05/2011)
One Love (03/04/2011)
Thankyou, Amanda Platell (25/02/2011)
Sonnet Scott-Lee (17/02/2011)
I'd Do That for Love (04/02/2011)
Dear Justin Timberlake (21/10/2010)
Little Red Square (24/09/2010)
|Wk 18||1 event|
|Wk 20||1 event|
Hover over an event to see the details. ( open mic event, Write Out Loud event)
Monday 02 May 2011
Saturday 21 May 2011
Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.