What is Performance Poetry-Performance Poetry Organisation

What is Performance Poetry


Twenty-Third of June two thousand, sixteen,

England was covered with freshly whipped cream

Inside the whiteness, denseness of fog,

Were people, also dense, who sank in this bog.

Elusive prize was a strawberry,

Strawberries and cream,

Some were ecstatic, they'd found their strawberry dream.

In the EU, or out was the choice,

Some, soft spoken, lost to those with loud voice.

Somewhere in Brussels, commissioners panic and scowl,

Lots of phone calls, we'll punish them, all did growl,

EU losing their power, they want to control

How dare England do this?

We'll tie them to a pole,

And throw rotting eggs, for daring to disobey,

Oh, and no-one should talk to Theresa May.

The UK helped win the World war,

but that doesn't matter,

We're in a new age, of elitism, petty chatter.

So having liberated Europe

We now feel dismayed

Like children in a gang

EU won't allow free trade

The European Parliament a name that sounds great

Spend millions of our Euros

In argument and debate

Europe's powerful leaders

Commissioners from each nation

In their glass and ivory towers

Endless rules and regulation

Elsewhere in Europe,

political battles will be fought

Europe won't consider change,

BREXIT efforts producing nought?

Robert Mason


Together At Last 

Together at last in the home of our dreams 

Our true love fulfilment our house bright and clean 

No lovers ever had such intensity and fire 

We are in perfect harmony 

With all we desire.

Our first day together she likes pink, 

and I blue. 

She said: “Put down the toilet seat when you’ve been to the loo!” 

Small adjustments I will make, I don’t mind for my love 

“Take your shoes off at the door 

They are covered in mud! 

We sit together on sofa,  

Glass of wine 

The TV's remote grabbed by this true love of mine  

She said: 

“I watch Hollyoaks, 

Home and Away, Corry Street, 

Emmerdale, East Enders …….and Big Brother is a treat” 

Romance now vanished, as cold wind blows to somewhere 

I had to get out, anyplace, anywhere. 

I’ll go down the pub, have a drink with my mates” 

She said  “Be back in by nine. I’ll be in a mood if you’re late” 

“Do the washing up first, before you go out 

And don't be told twice, or you know I will shout” 

What happened to our true  love? 

What happened to our dream? 

“ You haven’t washed that pan! 

Her loving voice at me screamed!
Robert Mason


His weapon in hand, ready for action,

The slight touch of his finger will cause a reaction

Everyone tense wondering which we he’ll go

Not snooker again, no, no, no, no!

He is slouched in his chair with remote for tv

In manly control he will choose what will be

I want to watch comedy, mum wants to watch soaps,

He’s the new modern fighting man, the armchair he gropes

He grips with his fist, he gets his own way,

He has been working so hard, 8 hours today.

But mums been at work, the same hours as him,

She’s done shopping, cooked tea, completely done in,

She can’t have her say, ‘cos dad stands his ground,

Or rather sits on his bottom, standing his ground,

We know we have a chance,

Our time to strike back,

He’ll start to nod, and his grip will go slack,

Ease the remote, from under his hand,

Turn down the volume, don’t wake action man.

That’s it, we’ve turned channel, mums watching her soap,

I’m recording my programme

Watch later I hope

He suddenly grunts, how far have they got?

Whose winning, where’s my snooker?

The mood gets hot,

You lent on remote Dad, changed channel you see

Its ashame to let mum miss this on tv

Oh her rubbish that’s done it I need cup of tea

Go put on the kettle, make it for me.

You can make it yourself!

Mum said, fighting back,

I clean, wash and cook,

The jobs you can’t hack

You do no housework

Am I just a slave?

Mum really angry shout, rant and rave,

Dad said “ I’m so tired ………if you did my job,

Make me a cup love”, he started to sob,

Mum disappeared, with dad in fake pain,

Remote Control Man watched his snooker again
Robert Mason