Dead Air poetry zine and November tour

Who inspires you?

So it’s been a busy few weeks and before I run away on tour with a punk band I shall be taking part in UKYA 2016.

I truly believe that words can change the world so for my latest poetry project I have written a collection called ‘Dead Air: If they won’t put us in the history books, we’ll write our own stories’ , which shall be showcased at the festival.

This collection showcases revolutionary figures that have been forgotten throughout history such as LGBT+ activists, black revolutionary figures, powerful women and people who have just genuinely made life as we know it better.
People are amazing and some of the things I have learnt have truly truly moved me.

I shall be performing these around Derby this weekend, but thought it would be ace if maybe this could be an idea to develop and expand in future.

Visit http://www.ukyoungartists.co.uk/ for more info about the festival and to find out what’s going on.

However, if you do wanna catch me and Addictive Philosophy on the road, tour dates are as follows:

tour-poster

 

 

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For Those About to Dare.

I was going to write a post tonight all about homesickness, how to overcome it and the loneliness of the magical, filthy city that is London.

But then I thought no, no, I don’t want to do that. I have spoken to many people these past few weeks who have been really down. So in the words of ‘Kid President’ I think we all need a prep talk. After watching ‘Kill Your Darlings’ I felt inspired to write poetry, which is something I’ve not done in ages.

This poem is a response to really negative poem I wrote about having dreams, then waking up and release you’re not doing anything about them. This poem is the opposite, because, fuck it, we all need a little motivation from time to time. It’s called ‘For Those About to Dare’. (Spoken word Link Below)

http://www.mixcloud.com/sophie_sparham/for-those-about-to-dare-by-sophie-sparham/

For Those About To Dare  

I’m tired.

I’m tired and I’m sick of being wrong.

But even if I don’t know the words,

I’ll continue to sing my own song.

 

I cannot swim.

But I’ll dive into the depths

I cannot say those words,

The ones closest to my chest.

I cannot run,

Unless it is from Kings.

I cannot fly.

But fuck it, I’ll do it anyway.

I am the hawk with no wings.

 

Baby, we’re just moth on a merry go round

Scrambling towards flashing lights

Strangled by life’s circle

Where the only direction is right

But I say No. I choose Wrong.

And yes, the punters laugh at me,

Yes, my journey is long.

But Darling, it’s time to stop this ride,

We deserve the freedom of this carnival,

I need to live, not just be alive.

 

Before we go any further, I know that this is hard.

I have seen my chandelier dreams,

Shattered into shards.

I have seen my carcass of hope, rotting in the sun.

And I was the vulture that picked the bones

Until the light of day was gone.

 

Yes, I have my freedom

Yes, I experience loneliness

Yes, sometimes my heart aches so, that I’ve had tea with death.

Yes, I wanted to give up,

before I’d said I’d tried

And yes, I am a long way from the place I thought I belonged

And sometimes I want to cut the wire

And pull myself home.

 

But I refuse, I refuse, I refuse.

Whatever you do, please remember this.

 

Baby, they taunt us.

And they will do so for the rest of our lives,

Unless we prove ourselves from the righteous view of their eyes.

But I would rather be cursed, torn, hurt, beaten down,

Have my guts pulled out, wear a bleeding, wretched frown

Have every breath draw from my body, until I cannot stand

Than live a drunken fool, starved by ignorance in some utopian land.

 

 

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