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This is my spoken word piece from last weeks Spoken word night at the exhibition pub in York. (For reference, the other poems I read were ‘Mushrooms’ and ‘The Lovers’) I’m quite happy with this, as I haven’t written that much stuff that is directly intended as spoken word, so it makes me happy when i can, and this one is a tongue-in-cheek tribute to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and all those people who say the fantasy ‘isn’t real literature’ just because they don’t personally like it.. Hey, i would totally read a stream-of-consciousness rant about a zoo, it sounds cool, but also i like things with dragons and magic in them.

I would personally recommend putting your best snob-level sneering posh voice on and speaking it out loud, especially for the first part of the poem. But, it’s up to you 😉



We’re told fantasy isn’t as deep

or as meaningful

or as intellectual

or as true

as a stream of consciousness rant

from the perspective of a man

visiting the zoo.

Dragons are silly, mythical things

with no relevalnce to reality

Absurdist notiions that belong

in childrens tales,

barely worthy of being called Lit-Er-A-Ture.

Don’t get me started on elves,

And no, i’m not going to argue about which elves,

They are all ridiculous.

The Thing is, we have always told stories.

Dragons, have a habit of… popping up.

If there’s life out there in space,

and it’s like us

Then they tell tales of fearsome winged beasts

and the knights that come to save the day

The gifts and curses they bestow

to while away an evening

to sing, inspire and show.

The Monster that lurks, underneath the bed,

That we hide with mothers kiss

keeps us reasoning, loyal

makes sure our parents keep us safe

so that we, in turn, will keep them

when in age the beasts return

The faerie come back to them when they are alone

the snakes of ageing come for memory

Ghost, are silly, idle things

clinging to that they loved in life

like when your loved ones leave you

but you need to know they’re still there

despite their journey into misty waters

a ferryman’s chill call

We need to know they’re still with us,

to check us, when we fail, or fall.

I’m sure, as you realise,

our fantasies are flawed

We cling to them

we need them.

As much as food, or drink, or souls.

Yes,. Dragons are silly

there’s no monster ‘neath the bed

but as a great man once said

The thing with Dragons is, They each us they can be beaten”

Fantasy is Inherent,

we need it to survive.

If dragons can be beaten,

We can do more than stay alive.

(The image is from google image search, i can’t find a link to reference it)