A Self-Indulgent Poet (Second Draft)

17 Jan

Stop what 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


Can’t you tell by the way I’m dressed, self-obsessed, with my hair in a mess? I am blessed to write, upon request, this testament of poetry at it’s best. I shall not rest until you have processed the quality of my meaningfulness!


Let’s cover the reasons why war is moronic, and how everything is now electronic. 

Be metaphoric about whatever topic I’m covering now in my lyrical frolic.

Let’s talk about dreams, and what it all means, and how reality is not what it seems.

Contrast the queen to oppressed teens, and how their ambitions tear at the seams.

Then let’s move on to social norms, and the politics of the tax reforms.

Comment on the everyday swarms of knights and pawns on concrete lawns.

Let’s talk about thongs, and everything wrong with our world, our lives, and unheard tongues.

Let’s talk about change; how things move on, and forget Bob Dylan ever wrote that song.


Lower that gun from your forehead, sir. I know you’re a blur ‘cus I’m so superb, but allow me to quote this ancient proverb from this Arabic prophet’s final words…

Nope, forgot it. Oh well, it was something to do with ‘enjoying life for what it is’.


Silence, please, that’s a serious notion. Look inwards towards your inner emotions. Promote your devotions – those spiritual oceans you never knew of ‘til my lyrical potions. My rhyming motions create mental explosions that have some now moving in desperate commotion.


Please, sir, remove your head from that noose. I know that your soul is in need of a boost. Please sit back down. Relax. Unwind. Poems aren’t poems unless we use rhymes. And love – THERE MUST ALWAYS BE 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.


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





They’re just the ones who cannot relate, or associate with the words I vibrate. 

The truth of it is, basically I’m great, and I just have to accept that the haters will hate

Like judges who rule that I never win – who kick me out before I begin

Who tell me the way I write is a sin; that I must write poems their way, or akin

Like the workshops that had me denied access to the advice they supplied

They said the most important thing was that I’d tried, and so I went home with my head held… I cried.

Like the poetry slams that turned me away, simply ‘cus I was too awesome to play

I told them my integrity makes me this way – I am true to myself, and I’m here to stay


So I’ll remain in the fray, and live for today. Keep bad stuff at bay and spray written arrays; essays abound in a messy display, like when I tried cooking my first souffle. 


After all


There is no valet to Heaven’s chalet. No happy croquet or flowery bouquet. There’s not even soda in this life.


There’s just lemons. And then death.


Lemons, and death.


Please, madam, you don’t need to weep. My words that I’ve spoken are now yours to keep. Though some at the back I see are now asleep, and to that, I will say:


I told you I was deep!


Adam Broome – Commission Show

Apologies for no getting the sound clip in on time – I’ve had a mega-busy week. I do intend to do one over the weekend though, as I’d like to know how long it will take me to perform this as it stands (I think I’ll have it in three minutes, but you never know!)
I’ll say that I do NOT intend to perform this in my usual voice or manner – the self-indulgent poet of the title is a character, and this is a character piece. I find myself drawing comparisons to Toast Of London (link below) – performing in a similar style could work really well; plus, I’d really like to play with my theatrical deliveries of spoken word pieces!




2 Responses to “A Self-Indulgent Poet (Second Draft)”

  1. Adam Broome January 19, 2014 at 6:54 pm #

    The style: My character will believe this is the best poem in the world. I want to identify as many cliches as possible, and talk about them in most obnoxious way possible. My character will be a thoroughly detestable poet at first, though through humour I aim to get the audience on my side as the piece progresses.

    Estimated time: 3 minutes

    What I want feedback on:

    -Are there any classic cliches I’ve missed?

    -Did you the character start to grow on you during the second half of the piece?

    -General feedback on whether or not I should reference the audience at various parts of piece like I have done.


  2. Adam Broome January 22, 2014 at 4:48 pm #


    Here is a Soundcloud of me performing an updated version in my intended style:


    I’ve cut some parts out and re-worded others. It currently clocks in at around 4 minutes in length.


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