Unspoken word

I’ve written some unspoken word poetry.

Unspoken. It’s not spoken. It’s read.

That doesn’t mean its dead.

It just isn’t spoken instead.

If I don’t speak, does not make it weak.

It’s still filled with emotion

And can make a commotion

And deserves some devotion.

It just doesn’t get heard.

No one has to say a word.

It’s unspoken.

That shouldn’t be absurd.

It’s unspoken.

That doesn’t mean it’s broken.

And the written word’s not token

Its just something you can read

And you may not see the need

But to me, it’s how I feed

So don’t, for my art, make me bleed.

I’m can be a performer, but I’d rather be a reformer.

It’s a poem you don’t have to say, it doesn’t mean its a new way

And, God I love Sarah Kay, but, for the love of God I pray,

It’s just one page and there’s no need to say.

You know, spoken word needs a vibration.

I have a citation.

That there’s this isopod crustacean

And it’s called epicarican.

Loud poems sound better if I were American.

I like my poems gentle, like a baby in a pram

I like my poems gentle, but I’m not frightened of slam.

What if some one likes it, but they’ve lost their voice?

What if someone likes it, but can’t register their choice?

What if I just read it? And as I write, my heart bleeds it.

I don’t easily scare, I’ll take a dare and I’ve been laid easily bare.

I’ve held the odd microphone, I’ve used the odd borrowed phone.

But I won’t be taken by fools. I’m not interested in poetry rules.

I’m not interested in hearing people tell me my bad.

I’m not interested in some generational fad.

I’ve said No. I know the word No. I know.

And I’m keen to show that I know.

I’ve written some unspoken word poetry.

Unspoken. It’s not spoken. It’s read.

That doesn’t mean its dead.

It just isn’t spoken.

Just because its an unsaid word

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t get heard.

 

 

 

 

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