This is the post excerpt.
Last week I went to the amazing Verse Matters spoken word event at The Theatre Deli in Sheffield.
Unexpectedly I found myself on stage sharing some words. It was the first time I’d done this but found it rather inspiring.
After the event I wrote this….
Absurd by Young Sung Hero
When I was bothered and exposed,
I decided to enclose,
in a tomb,
not golden like tootan Khamoon,
but beige and raw.
Trapped I was,
not even the fucking energy to get mad.
It is what it is I said,
this is how you’ve grown,
just another broken cliche surviving on his own.
Even these words,
they make me shudder, blink and cringe,
yet another indulgent creative having a whinge.
Because we do that don’t we?
Afforded the luxury of words,
whereas if I was some poor cunt with no food in his belly,
I’d be like,
You lot are fucking absurd.
I wrote this wee micro poem after watching a program on the BBC about pollution caused by vegetable production in Southern Spain.
I’m a little aware of this issue, but seeing it on tv was a stark reminder of our destruction in the name of profit.
Club Med – Young Sung Hero
Abundant Stories – Young Sung Hero
INNERVISIONS – Young Sung Hero
Chapter 12 extract.
‘Let me get this straight, you’re telling me that your dead, childhood friend Christabel is living in your loft, and you’re having conversations with her?’
Lee’s keyworker Sandy had edged forward in her chair, her posture reminded him of a woodpecker preparing to bury its beak in a rotten log. A grey cardigan hung loosely over her body, belying the anxiety that made her feet shift back and forth.
An open window hinted at the world outside. It smelt of Lynx deodorant, cigarette smoke, and disappointment.
‘I know this sounds crazy.’ Before he could finish, Sandy interrupted.
‘Lee, you’re not going crazy.’
Fucking hell, she thinks I’m crazy.
Read the full chapters here :-
Breakbeat stares – Young Sung Hero
When the girl with caramel curls opens her mouth my ears come alive.
‘We have nothing until we embrace honesty, it must become our loving guide.’
I want to grab her words with both hands and wrap them in a shiny box.
The next time I bump into her she’s sat in the quiet room staring out of a window. Her open toe sandals are too small which make her toes look like meerkats peering out of their burrow. She glitters in the sunlight.
‘You can live forever, this is the hardest part then it gets easier.’
Her face contains no hatred or pain. I wonder how she’s ended up in here?