I wrote this for a PASTA night in Wolverhampton. PASTA is a free monthly event organised by Poets, Prattlers and Pandemonialistsis, it’s an;
Open mic night with a difference. Each month we meet at the Arena Theatre and ask people to perform a piece they’ve written on a theme which was chosen at the previous event.
The theme was Sheer Unspeakable Strangeness, and it was my second poetry reading, so I was nervous, but not as bad as the first time I read. There was such a fantastic range of poems read on the night. freely shared by a diverse crowd of supportive, talented people. I plan to make this regular, it’s marvellous to hear everyone else.
Anyway, the poem 🙂
How do I speak of Sheer Unspeakable Strangeness,
It’s unspeakable by nature, but I’ll do my best
And put myself to the test, and yes, that rhymed,
But it’s all downhill from here.
I’ll speak about the sheer stupidity of a president
And the unspeakable casualness of human loss
And how strange it feels to hear terms like “Good Deal” and “Going Great”
being used when talking about acts of war and hate
I’d rather be talking about sheer stockings and sexy underwear,
And unspeakable romantic rendezvous on a Friday night
And strange goings on in the backs of cars,
In Sandwell Valley, in a long-ago past
But instead, I find myself returning to
The sheer arrogant, selfish actions of an old orange king
And the unspeakable, cowardly acts of those who follow him
And the strange sleight of hand when Epstein is mentioned
All to keep him in control, and his power extended
I’d love to share the sheer pride I have for my daughters
And the unspeakable, unmeasurable love I have for them in my heart
How strange this world would be without them in it
And how much being their dad has taught me
And how thankful I am some mad god isn’t bombing here
But instead I’m writing a poem, if that’s what this is
About a sheer tyrannical president, and the legacy he leaves
And the unspeakable collateral damage, that is such a tidy, neat, desensitising term,
and the strangeness of how quickly the news moves on
To Oscar wins, and the latest celebrity fashion glitch
And 22 millionaires kicking a ball around on a pitch
Yes, I could have moaned about the beautiful game
And the sheer frustration of a VAR decision
The unspeakably tedious offside revision
And the strangeness of when a war is raging
To be talking about transfers, and how the team should be playing
Maybe I should say nothing, keep these feelings to myself.
Boxing them up tight, only affecting my mental health
But instead, I decided not to stay quiet, for the powers that be
or engage in the sheer silence of neutrality
And not practise the unspeakable inaction of apathy
And never embrace the strangeness of complacency
But maybe I was right at the start,
How do I speak of Sheer Unspeakable Strangeness
It’s unspeakable by nature, but I’ve done my best,
To be Human, to be me, did I pass the test?