Written and performed by Naomi Woolnough for JDRF Type 1 Discovery evening. 
www.jdrf.org.uk

This Is Just To Say

Written and performed by Dan Simpson for JDRF Type 1 Discovery evening. 
www.jdrf.org.uk

Jealousy

Desert Poem - NaPoWriMo 2014

The Abyss - poem written for a black metal gig. Written and performed for 'Into The Pit', a death metal night at Woodies Youth Centre in Rochester. 

I look into the abyss
there's nothing I can see
except a conscious darkness
looking back at me.
Tendrils of black
creep into my brain
make my eyes mirrors
reflecting the insane.
But it's the world that's madness
this badness we call living
suffocating sunlight burning
making marks so unforgiving.
Skin symbols of evil
tattooed on my heart
blood pumping through my body
infecting every part

moving me to motion
committing acts of depravity
the abyss is in me now
controlling all my faculties.
It calls out to its brother
we meet beneath the earth
voids of virtue present
to witness death's rebirth.
Only by devouring
the abyss from within
can we rise from darkness
smile back at Death's grin.

The Abyss (poem for a death metal gig)

Clickbait

Poem for Larmer Tree Festival 2014, written by Sara, Jack, Ella, Hannah and Dan, put together by Larmer Tree Lyrical Laureate Dan Simpson.

I Came To Larmer Tree

A poem for my residency at Canterbury Roman Museum, written for the Museum of London Archeology's oral history project celebrating the discovery of the Temple of Mithras in London 60 years ago. 

Residency at Canterbury Roman Museum supported by the University of Kent's School of European Culture and Languages and Public Engagement with Research. More info:

www.canterburyromanresident.wordpress.com
www.mola.org.uk

Quick To Save, Quick To Help

A crowdsourced poem made for the National Museum of Scotland's Game Masters exhibition. This feels like a weird experience of being in a game - one that spans the decades videogames have been around. Enjoy!

www.crowdsourcedpoetry.co.uk

Sheep makes wool makes bed
memories of sunrises
“weren’t you supposed to be in the test chamber
half an hour ago?”

“Coming Mum!”
I climb out of my corner
looking for obvious signposts
each portal a fleeting falling out of magic
the void our soundtrack.

Wandering round at the beginning
I collected stars with you
in a myriad of galaxies
sliding sidewards and arriving upright
my heart racing
we leapt, weightless
and slid in and out of realities.

I keep flexing my thoughts
waiting for memories to load up
letting the tape roll
watching coloured noise crackle and whine
just a blur, a blue flash.

Don’t talk of the rainbow islands
I thought my friends were liars until I saw it
I myself managed a few wobbly landings
but it was my brother who became a pilot.

The eldest would choose the place
the story of every younger sibling
always the sidekick, never the hero
he was light-years ahead of me
understanding exactly which bit of the map
despite the utter vagueness
and nonsense nature of the place.

“This is a short cut to the flag”
he would say
walking up a mountain through sleet and snow
exploring in the arctic
surprises off the beaten track
finally finding the cow level
completely ignoring
the terrible sound of the trumpet
that means someone has just declared war on you.

At the edge of the clifftop
the wind dying down
the sun coming out to shine
across a blue, blue sky

“You take point”
he said, then
ambushed
taking arrows to the knee.
So many.
Too many.

And now they’re coming down the middle flank
in an everlasting loop
my keen Commander
voice-commands me:
“Use sword on troll.”

“Negative” I say
I mean, we all enjoy interacting
and I liked the team colours when I joined
but I had to wait
for my snarky sidekick
thinking: “I’m sworn to carry your burdens.”

I was a hooded wanderer scaling impossible walls
a hunched hero grappling tufts
and skidding feet in the dust
I jump up and hide on a rock
until the shouting stops.

Grown up now
our enjoyment rolls back the years
dinner gets pushed back later and later –
will there be cake? I implore
and once more the promises come
robotic and flawed.

Back then, you couldn’t save
and the water is rising
bringing terrors from the deep
seeing doom for the first time
and there are your lives in a line
for the spiders are marching
for all of it follows behind
the fall is forever
and enemies hover
so climb, so climb.

We worked together
to buy the best bike
only to lose it overnight –
the spectrum sunsets
from a wasted youth.

You are still on the rainbow islands
Master of people
who would probably have never met
for any other reason
the freedom when young
to finish playing
catching up on life
you play games together.

Words submitted by: @BryonyMJ, @MsWoolno, @Teaheeheetime, @SquareParticle, @clairenothelen, @StephenRettie, @KofTheTriffids, Tim @yearoneteam, Sheila Whitehead.

Game Masters

During COP22, poet Dan Simpson crowdsourced a poem about climate change for Free Word. Taking words submitted on social media about this important issue, Dan cut them together to make this poem.

“I can't breathe”
the Earth says
“and where've all my fish gone?
all those unique species?
hearts of millions
broken.”

Earth screeching: 
“No, no, I couldn't eat another thing.
Why do you bite the hand that feeds
over and over again?
Greedy. Selfish.
no progress:

‘It's causes are not anthropomorphic’?
Science jargon.
‘Well, if it means warmer summers I'm all for it’?
Inappropriate.
I loathe your rusty minds
you’re not exactly a rebel
you are unearthly
there’s no place in the sun for us both.”

Forewarned, displaced passion ends in shadow
lost love, dark dust doomed
viscose thoughts of a dirty romance
black, and cold
thinking about going it alone
breaking ice, breaking sweat
cold steam crashing waves on rocks
lonely parts per million spread in liquid
blurred stars if she deserts us.

Against these issues
it’s hard to find renewable energy
some soil resilience
it's not easy, standing up
to gain height and take light 
the choke-weed climbs a strong host
the trespass of the sun, a faded splendour
a poisonous gift
sick burns the colour of orange
too hot.

But try anyway
take time rooting down
the problem’s not about knowing what to do
it’s knowing that if we do nothing:
flooding
smog
dry soil
hyperactive wind
tsunami
mad clouds and yellow moon.

When the climate's climactic
the message goes up in smoke
we don’t get a carbon captured future
all the other ones melted
no refreezing, no reset.

Draw lessons like sap
a letter on a tree’s core:
we’ve got a lot in common with the world
together we can be ordinary heroes
we have to start moving now, even if only a fraction
solid moves - to zero carbon
tectonic tactics can move entire continents into action.

Contributors:
@SpikeYawns | @Chandrana7 | @Paraphyso | @BBrownskirt | @samillingworth | @EllaMcLellan | @purelypoetry | @LLynchStevens | @MayaChowdhry | @raylaurence1 | @JeremyLelean | @HobbsPoetry | @idledragon27 | @tastesofink | @Robot_Dunlop | @rachelmshannon | @BobHillArts | @Burt_Williamson | Justine Kenyon | Dee Ashton | Barry Fentiman-Hall | Elizabeth Rae

(Photograph: Amy Zhang)

A Climate of Creativity - COP22 Crowdsourced Poem

Applied Mathematics, by Dan Simpson. 

Dan Simpson: Poet
gigs & compèring | projects & events | workshops | commissions
dansimpsonpoet.co.uk

Applied Mathematics

gigs & compèring | projects & events | workshops | commissions & crowdsourced poetry

dansimpsonpoet

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