Tag Archives: spoken word

Festival

If I was going to describe Victoria’s spoken word festival

I’d start with Missie’s eyes

Happy proud

Pixie bright eyes that see through today

Into a tomorrow of a possibility

Then I’d move on to talk about words made flesh

Words transcendent into moves and movement

I’d mention Mike McGee and his elemental intensity

I’d talk about the merging of ideas

Synchronicity

Recombinant expeditions into the territory called creation

I’d talk about self-sacrifice

Of giving up to get it in

I’d talk about dancing poets

Who flow their limbs into rhythms

Listening to sounds through heart-filtered beats

Abandoning safety and expected

For impulses and muses

Who move tongues and feet

Into the beat

If I was going to describe the festival

I’d speak rapture of the deep

Following signs into the unknown that warn of danger

Because poets like to go there

I’d unmask motivations and hidden delights

I’d describe impermanently perfect performances

Punctuated by fingersnaps and the approbation of crowds

If I was going to describe the festival

I’d end with applause

 

 

David Trudel       © 2013

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Paper Boats

Float words like paper boats

Made from yesterday’s newspaper

Stories that carried marvelwords carried away

Gutterbound into a new memory

 

 

David Trudel  ©  2013

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Welcome Poems

The Victoria Spoken Word Festival takes place this week and I’m doing some volunteer driving, picking up out-of-town poets at the airport and the ferry and driving them to where they need to go.  I mentioned this to a friend of mine and they asked if I would be writing them welcome poems.  I hadn’t thought of it before but decided to do just that.  I made signs for each one, using paper plates, with the poet’s name on one side and one of the poems on the other.  Most of the festival takes place at the Intrepid Theatre here in Victoria. I was little unsure about how they’d be received but the response has been very good, from everyone involved in the festival.

 

Word Dancer

Word dancer take flight

Grand jete across the stage

Or tango close to explicit

We will follow your lead

Intrepidly

 

Speak

The power of words isn’t fully realized

Until you breathe life into them

Static page bound words are nailed in place

Speak them to set them free

 

Between

Between fear and fearlessness

Are universes of untold stories

In the margins between dark and light

Consciousness carves a trail

 

Paper Boats

Float words like paper boats

Made from yesterday’s newspaper

Stories that carried marvelwords carried away

Gutterbound into a new memory

 

David Trudel  ©  2013

2 Comments

Filed under Passing Thoughts

Between

Between fear and fearlessness

Are universes of untold stories

In the margins between dark and light

Consciousness carves a trail

 

 

David Trudel  ©  2013

 

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

Speak

The power of words isn’t fully realized

Until you breathe life into them

Static page bound words are nailed in place

Speak them to set them free

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

Word dancer

Word dancer take flight

Grand jete across the stage

Or tango close to explicit

We will follow your lead

Intrepidly

 

 

David Trudel  © 2013

 

 

3 Comments

Filed under Poetry

My Words

My words are fragile as periwinkle stalks

Snapping apart when I grab them

My words are bubbles of gas that ascend from depths

To burst upon the revelation of surface plane

My words are leaves in the canopy I see overhead

Until they desiccate and float back down to earth

My words are proxies for the vote I’ve yet to make

Signed over in a blind trust to otherness

My words shuffle, stumble and fall

Homeless as the crazy-eyed binner that no one stares at directly

My words approach but never quite arrive

Never make it past the lobby to where they aren’t authorized

My words feed vending machines like a handful of change

Dispensing instant gratification if the price is right

My words are signposts to a destination

A mapless place positioned beyond terrestrial coordinates

My words are a journey and a joy

Carrying their burdens in a caravan of mystery

My words are just words like anyone’s

Trying to get the mind’s inside outside for once

My words are everything and nothing

Emblematic and ephemeral as graffiti in a back alley

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry