performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Exile with a Smile
I'm glad the empire is finally falling. It's been a shade shy of useless for some time now, it will provide a contrast in the future for what we will never again. But for now it's on the forefront of it's imminent end. And I can't blame them for exiling me when they did. I was a light so bright I could only go out at night, even then it was a fight if I didn't keep my steps right. I was/am a penmen, used to be quill & it used to be quite a thrill, what I'd write would have me killed, be it that I wasn't so clever, seeing this empire fall in this body would I have never. Luckily during those times I had the foresight to fornicate with the late judge's wife, she swayed him away from giving me to the knife, exiled instead, God she gave good head. I'd lick her down to her toes & watch her cold heart melt from froze. She was no doubt ruthless, but truth is you had to be that way back in the day or you'd hold no position not washed with history's omission. Sure women couldn't work officially, but they're always the ones running things initially. She may have strayed but for groceries from the coup, but best believe her man ran her loop. She'd give me the scoop on who was watching & plotting my demise, I stayed wise and distributed my publications in secret, a secret I knew no one would keep it, but that too part of my plan, how my writings kept "terrorizing" the land, the higher ups couldn't understand. I guess satisfying the print shop keeper's wife wasn't the worst decision I had made in my life. She was a bit thicker but I liked how it jiggled when I'd stick her. She'd let me know when her husband was out for the night, and I'd go publish what I'd write. Father a forester who had links to pulp & paper, I used my own supplies so the only one that was wiser was her and our maker. I'd clean my mess, then deliver my press. Political, poetic and far from rhetoric, no one knew my name, but they read my words all the same. I kept them informed, sharpened their brains with art & truth, I was a wizard and a rascal in my youth.
By Mr. KUTZKY7 years ago in Poets
