Lounged Out

Nailed it! Sort of. I can’t say I’m one for talking in front of large crowds, let alone making eye contact, but I managed to deliver both my poems and not mess up or forget my words. Had a few long pauses towards the end of my sestina though, which in hindsight, I wish I hadn’t tried to tackle off the top of my head. Although, I am chuffed over one observation I made of the other 10 poets reading that night, and that is, I was the only one who wasn’t holding and looking at a piece of paper — What a rebel I am!

Fin @ Lounge#37 - b&w

Totally wish I had thought to read off a piece of paper though, would have cut down eye contact, awkwardly trying to make myself seem comfortable with looking at people while trying not to forget which sentence in the stanza of my sestina I was up to. Neat experience though. Tonight was a different kind of fun. Thanks Selina for being supportive and to the familiar faces from 252 and 204 that attended this evening.

Everything out of Selina’s mouth sounds deeply profound. Makyla, you are a confident speaker with a very intelligible way with words, and I must be a little jealous because I kept thinking if I could simply read as well as you I would’ve been freaking amazing. Pretty grateful Josie showed up a half-hour early to Lounge, and happy that she won the poetry raffle at the end. What were the odds of that?! Thank you Michele Leggott for having me as part of your lineup and thanks Olive — Michele’s golden retriever — for letting me pet you. And last but not least, thanks random dude whose name I think was Max, for having those really cool and nice things to say to me before I disappeared into the night — me, a performance poet in his eyes who should consider competing in an upcoming poetry slam. Lounge#37 was a very relaxed and encouraging atmosphere, but fuck relying on my brain to recite ANYTHING in the near future (Is this what multitasking feels like?) Only thing I see slamming in my immediate future is my pillow, but I will top-up my photocopy/print account, just in case.


You’re Mother Teresa
You don’t have to smile
Everybody still sees you

But you still do

Grim Reaper when I put up my walls
You realize I can see through
This Déjà vu has me contemplating mortality
Reverse polarity
You’re being in my reality
Yet no one gives a damn looking in
I’m just paranoid
But I’m less than that
Loving you
I’m destroyed

Like a broken record
Like a broken voice
Like a broken toy
Or a bad choice
When I am unforgiven
I know you will understand
I’d drop the Prozac
In exchange to just
Hold your hand

Only you could have me on my knees

Or I

Key-chain laser to my iris
Melt the free radicals down like a virus
Down like a syndrome of undead spiders
Crawling in my head because I can’t afford to hide this

…I could be sexually paranoid?


Loving you
I am destroyed.

~ by Fionnlagh on April 30, 2014.

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