Tag Archives: Review of August SpeedPoets

SpeedPoets… celebrating life through poetry

Sunday’s SpeedPoets brought an amazing gathering of people together… many of whom, got up in the Page Seventeen/SpeedPoets Open Mic Competition and delivered a poem. The music of what it is to be human was well and truly singing in the room.

In Round 1,
JK talked of old meatsheds and the ‘cry of past slaughters’
John introduced us to Fig-Leaf Phyllis
Sarah, the Hearer of all Sounds; reminding us of the beauty of Rod Stweart songs, all their love, their hurt
Paul was dancing and loving the other half
Lee-Anne walked through Friday’s Fog, its dead air and still life
Bruce conjured the stink of school and not being chosen
Ben the manufactured perfection of V8 cars
Cameron spoke of the unholy perfection of the Swan Lake Massacre and
Dave was dreaming of Kerouac

In Round 2,
Jonathan saw his poem as an arc of light
Cindy demanded all days be clothed in red
Sam saw school boys in blazers, brief and fair as lemon flowers
Arafa tilted our hearts, wrapped in green
Vanessa gave us the awkward beauty of a calf unsteady on stumps
Janaka’s voice unlocked doors
Corrie suspended us on time and tide
The Loaded Dog watched as worms dined on poems
Nemo spoke of the unspeakable rules of Scrabble Club and
Nerissa was consumed by fire

And in Round 3,
Chris turned vultures into parrots
James delved into the beauty of child birth and Justin Bieber
Deb marvelled at rock pool thieves
David heard the bomb go off… spin, rinse, spin… a life away
Israel questioned what aren’t we doing now?
Savanu asked how high his plants were
Nicola saw starfish planes crossing the sky
Chris opened Pop-Pop’s Backgammon Set
releasing the smell of library & cigars
Sally left us transfixed in the night-light
Tony stole the colour from our eyes and
Josh read an Ode to Paul Gray

And together we celebrated the life of Paul Squires, with readings from Brad & myself… and he was there, smiling from his favourite back corner. And we celebrated the sounds of Sheish Money as he sang of Hunter S. Thompson & 69 Chevys… and we celebrated. Because that’s what poetry is… a celebration of life.

Long may we celebrate…

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