Adam Gregory Pergament

Biography

Flow Poetry ~Paving the way for a new approach to spoken word jam, Flowpoetry transcends musical boundaries and interlaces shared storytelling and poetic vibration into a communal and collective consciousness that unifies the ancient and future as one. http://www.facebook.com/flowpoetry flowpoetry@gmail.com "Flowpoetry's verses find the right rhythm and pitch for every approach (and) he reads them with an ease that lets the music sing. … makes the relationship between words and music feel new again. Carves out a tribal, ambient, dreamy vibe.... " The Isthmus (Madison, WI) "Courageous and organically fused…similar to that of Rage Against The Machine at times, honest and holds the mood of a Shaman performing cleansing rituals." Local Playlist (Milwaukee, WI) "Flowpoetry is one of the most unique and riveting performers on the Midwestern musical and artistic landscape. The group is on the cutting edge of the nationwide expansion of new forms of spoken word.... unique, theatrical and musical." DeKalb Chronicle (DeKalb, IL) "...very chill yet gripping. On a mission to bridge the gap between poetry and music and does so.... ...some hip jive, Cat Daddy." Gapers Block Presents: Transmission (Chicago, IL) "Leaving space for stories to unwind, but without forgetting the primal urge to move feet." - Leicester Bangs (United Kingdom) For more on Adam's projects, please go to: http://www.facebook.com/flowpoetry

Samples

Sometimes we hide If you ask us where We go It is likely we will tell you In the summer it is garden of hope It is a garden of blossoms It is a garden of light It is a garden of colors Too many to see It is a garden of mulberries It is a garden of barefeet It is a garden of opening It is a garden of sunlight It is a garden of concealing It is a garden There is no better word for it This garden runs through the alleyways It scatters the meadows It grows in the gravel And perfumes the air that we breathe In the winter it is garden of frozen leaves It is a garden of icy steps It is a garden of slumber It is a garden of snowfall Too soft to believe It is a garden of vines It is a garden of leather shoes It is a garden of increase It is a garden of cold wind It is a garden of decrease It is a garden There is no better word for it See, I have fashioned a ball out of Words And hung it from a trestle bridge Over a valley. It is true we are hungry, It is true we are waiting, Three stones wrapped in cotton. Three seeds wrapped in burlap.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.