I don’t do poetry.
At least, I didn’t think I did. More, I do poetry but of the sort I rarely write down. It’s the sort that gets scribbled on napkins or in the back of my diary, the beer – fueled and often beer – stained ramblings that I came up with at Word Up Wednesday, the local poetry slam night.
Slam poetry and spoken word is a very different beast to the consciously formed written stuff you learn in school. Most of mine were poorly disguised rants, but they do have a certain rhythm and cadence that you can only achieve through speaking it out loud. Once you’ve performed it, it’s gone!
Except it’s not. What you have left is the raw words. I always scribbled down the basic ideas, and that means there was something that could be edited….
Most of my rants tend to be about our emigration experience, (cos there are many, many things to rant about in that process!). To this end, I got enough together to make a little Chapbook. It’s called ‘from Chavs to Timmies’. Enjoy!