Melbourne Spoken Word (short)

1st reading – The Dan 4 March. 2nd reading – Passionate Tongues 6 March

A simple stage, lights, mic
A lonely poet
From a heart to a crowd
Speaks words off a trembling page

In essence,
This is spoken word
All else is

I do spoken word
But I’ve never known the reason why
Then I heard Bigoa Chuol say
“There’s nothing to explain.
Its just part of who I am”
Her words went to the core of me
Deeply down she made a score in me
Released my joy cradled my pain
It’s just part of who I am. Again.
It’s part of who I am.

Spoken word’s a baby
Born almost every night
You’ve been at it’s birth
It has older siblings too
Richly entertaining
Let me introduce a few

I speak with a round bare belly
I touch the Oracle of Delphi
She’s a part of who I am

I spoke with my fist that’s now a hand
I shout my poems in the Dan
Spoken word changed this man
Opened a part of who I am

If it weren’t for the pills I wouldn’t be here
Owning I take them helps me to steer
To a part of who I am – without them

I did it. I spat out a kidney stone
It’s gone. That’s it. I’m done.
It’s not a part of who I am

I speak from somewhere that isn’t there
to someone who isn’t here I want to care for
the part of who I am

I shout. I howl. I exclaim till I’m hoarse
I urge you all! Join my cause
We’re all one! part of who I am.

I loved you so and you left me alone
I build a house of words on your bones
You found the part of who I am

The thing with with spoken word is
Anyone can. Take two lines
And make them rhyme
What have you got?
Whamabamasingsong Alabamaningnong
Melbourne Spoken Word
On any given day
Could pass for breakfast banter
On radio TripleJJJ
But I keep coming back for more
First-timers are who I listen for
Almost without failing
Gold flakes are in their tailings
A heart glitters through the mic
And they’re always welcomed like
They are the Welcome Stranger
I love to see them take the stand
To learn that it’s not so hard
To find that part of who we are.

When I’m writing well, my perfect words arouse me
The sole reward this solo parlour game allows me
It is good they please myself
Better they impress my friends as well.
I want to have more fans than friends.
I walk a line between
Satisfaction with the art of it
Frustration at the meagre market.
I’m just another miner
infected with a fever.
Words are my rush
I’ll NEVER have enough of them.
They’re the best part of who l am

I know I’m not the best
I’ve dug a hole to …
explore and understand.
Forgive me that my words are poor
I hope one day to speak words I can be proud of
I won’t drone on any more
I don’t want to bore you.
For this time
And this space
I just adore you.
Thanks for being part of
The part of who I am


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