Poem of the Week #3- 'Twat' by John Cooper Clarke

John Cooper Clarke is one of the best British lyricists ever. His spoken word pieces have had a heavy influence on several bands, most noticeably The Arctic Monkeys. He has struggled with drug abuse all his life, but this makes his piece even more endearing. Not that I condone drug abuse, unless it is the drug of love. 'Twat' is a scathing attack on someone Cooper Clarke doesn't seem like very much. I would post one of his funnier, cheerier poems, but they just don't have the same killer punch as 'Twat'.



Like a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
Like a recently disinfected shit-house, you’re clean round the bend.
You give me the horrors
too bad to be true
All of my tomorrow’s
are lousy coz of you.

You put the Shat in Shatter
Put the Pain in Spain
Your germs are splattered about
Your face is just a stain

You’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag.
Do us all a favour, here... wear this polythene bag.

You’re like a dose of scabies,
I’ve got you under my skin.
You make life a fairy tale... Grimm!

People mention murder, the moment you arrive.
I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive.
You’ve got this slippery quality,
it makes me think of phlegm,
and a dual personality
I hate both of them.

Your bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay.
Please, please, please, please, take yourself away.
Like a death a birthday party,
you ruin all the fun.
Like a sucked and spat our smartie,
you’re no use to anyone.
Like the shadow of the guillotine
on a dead consumptive’s face.
Speaking as an outsider,
what do you think of the human race

You went to a progressive psychiatrist.
He recommended suicide...
before scratching your bad name off his list,
and pointing the way outside.

You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart.
You’re heading for a breakdown,
better pull yourself apart.

Your dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss.
Your attitudes are platitudes,
just make me wanna piss.

What kind of creature bore you
Was is some kind of bat
They can’t find a good word for you,
but I can...
TWAT.




Whatever, Trevor.

Poem of the week - "Death in Duke Street" by Edwin Morgan

If you met me, you would probably never guess that I liked poetry, and I probably never would have if it wasn't for one poet, Edwin Morgan. Many Scottish people, and namely, supporters of the Scottish National Party (boo hiss) latch onto Robert Burns, yet, I'd take Morgan over Burns every day of the week. His poems vary from realism to surrealism, yet every one is distinctive and characteristically Edwin Morgan's own.

Poem of the week #1

One of the main aspects about music I love the most are lyrics, and thus comes my fascination with poetry. So excuse my self-indulgence each week as I post a poem which I love.

This week I have chosen Sylvia Plath's Ennui. Plath describes longing and frustration with life as well as any other poet and Ennui is a fine example of this.

Ennui
Tea leaves thwart those who court catastrophe,
designing futures where nothing will occur:
cross the gypsy’s palm and yawning she
will still predict no perils left to conquer.
Jeopardy is jejune now: naïve knight
finds ogres out-of-date and dragons unheard
of, while blasé princesses indict
tilts at terror as downright absurd.

The beast in Jamesian grove will never jump,
compelling hero’s dull career to crisis;
and when insouciant angels play God’s trump,
while bored arena crowds for once look eager,
hoping toward havoc, neither pleas nor prizes
shall coax from doom’s blank door lady or tiger.





Plath also influenced one of my favourite bands of last year, The Antlers. Here is a lovely song they wrote about her.

The Antlers-Sylvia (Live at the Orchard NYC)