We’re that candle and laptop lit electrical lapse
We are paperclip fixes for broken zips
We’re plectrums crudely fashioned from pop bottle caps
We’d be jumpers for goalposts!
(except we’re scared of being hit)
But we are not silent poets!
You’ll find us in back rooms near the bathrooms in bars
On plinths, on the Fringe, in libraries and the like
We’re free thinking, tea drinking, modern day bards
And we properly take the mike
No, we are not silent poets!
Our love of paper does not make us stationary
With hearts full of fire and arms full of dictionaries
We write… the wrongs of this world
When our pens run dry
We’ll sharpen our pencils
We’ll spray paint our stanzas
in Banksy style stencils
When our crayons are broken
And our pencils are blunt
We will etch into mountains –
‘Donald Trump is…
And when they’ve taken our paintbrushes, biros and Bics
The charcoal, the chalk (and for safety – pointed sticks)
And it looks like we’ve got no implements left
We’ll make our own stage, and with our very last breath
We will say we, were not silent poets!