SST6 First Draft – ‘A Self-Indulgent Poet’

8 Jan

(Actually more like the ninth draft, maybe!)
The original theme of rejection turned into something rather serious and personal, and although it makes for a great poem, I shall not put this up here yet so as not to confuse people. I did not want to perform this piece in the end, so I re-developed my idea. The core concept is still here – my approach is personify an ignorant, narcissistic, ‘self indulgent poet’ who thinks he’s much better than he actually is. I know I cannot do this by writing a poem badly, because it doesn’t demonstrate any ability on my part.

The solution: I have used cliches in this piece, trying to cover as many as possible, and go about the topics in the most boring, obvious ways possible. Other poets are referenced trying to help him, but he (of course) refuses to listen. Oddly, at the end of the day however, we get a poem about being true to yourself.

I’m surprised to find – at the end of this first draft – that actually this does still reflect quite a lot of how I feel right now. I’m much happier with this piece than any of the previous drafts, and I think it could really work with a Nottingham audience!

‘A Self Indulgent Poet’

Right, stop whatever you’re doing, and listen to me now

I am a deep, self-indulgent poet, here to tell you about how hard my life is!

 

Let’s start generic, then force a rhetoric. Follow with a line that defies all logic. Then change the topic to something ironic; symbolic of why I am so chaotic. A psychotic frolic, slightly demonic – but told with a smile, so it’s somehow comic! Let’s cover the reasons why war is moronic, and our thoughts on how everything is now electronic. Let’s talk about dreams, and what it all means, and how reality is not what it seems.

 

Then let’s move on to social norms; the swarms of everyday people conforming to the drawn-out chess board of knights and pawns. Storms are born, but not forewarned, and people wish they had been better informed, before they get torn up and crippled by all of those bogus tax reforms. 

 

Let’s talk about thongs, and everything wrong with our world, our lives, and unheard tongues. Let’s talk about change and how things move on, and forget Bob Dylan ever wrote that song. Just play along to my ding-dong stanzas that only prolong the depth of my answers.

 

Then silence, please – focus that notion. Look inwards towards your inner emotions. Promote your devotions – your spiritual oceans you never knew of ‘til my lyrical potions. My rhyming motions create mental explosions that have some now leaving in desperate commotions.

 

I speak so fast I’m in need a lozenge, as I seek out words that rhyme with orange. And I know it’s important to not disappoint – I WILL quote Shakespeare at some point! But there is one topic forever above – when writing a poem, we must always have LOVE!

 

Let’s reference light and all things bright, and talk about glittering stars at night. How your soul must fight to stay in flight, and push on each day with all it’s might. I’ll teach you about my poetical plight, setting words alight with no respite, and despite the delight of what I recite, I know deep down I’m still the deepest who writes.

 

Those in denial of this reconcile that I am poet who must change his style. When I tell them that to change me is futile, I’m exiled because I’m not ‘versatile’. Who are they to say I’m not worthwhile listening to from up on the central aisle? Am I really so vile – do crowds run a mile? Is my smile misinterpreted as HOSTILE!?!?!!!

 

Some people reject me and it often upsets me. But they’re just the ones who don’t get me. You get me?

 

So poetry slams can turn me away, and say I’m too hyper, or too fast to play. I think it’s my instinct that makes me this way, and there’s no changing that, so I’m here to stay. Away with the grayness and all of the heinous display-ness of values removed from their… ‘ass’. I’ll remain in the fray, and live for today. Shield my pride like darling buds of May. Keep bad stuff at bay and spray written arrays, in a messy display like my first souffle. There’s no valet to Heaven’s chalet. There’s no croquet or flowery bouquets. There’s not even soda.

 

There’s just lemons. And then death.

 

Lemons, and death.

 

Some are taking these words to keep

Some are sat sadly trying not to weep

Some of you I see are falling asleep

And to that, I will say:

 

“I told you I was deep!”

———-
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One Response to “SST6 First Draft – ‘A Self-Indulgent Poet’”

  1. Adam Broome January 10, 2014 at 1:03 pm #

    Adam Broome – Commission Show

    (Will be starting my feedback ‘bombing run’ soon – tomorrow if I can’t get some done before the session today!)

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