Ant Smith

Biography

Performace poet with definite emphasis on performance. 2009 highlights included sharing the bill with Michael Horowitz and Fran Landesman. Several featured sets at the excellent Express Excess as well as Bang said the gun, RAW and many of the Vintage Poison events. Featured also at the Words and Music Oxfam charity gig. Published in RRRants, Poetry Rivals and the UK Poetry Podcast.

Samples

London Knives London Knives London Knives London Knives London Knives No one plans like happenstance, yet still they lie still, these still lives Does all knowing mean all seeing all the grieving that survives Is it a question of believin’ that believin’ answers lies Are all answers found in faith and is all faith all knowing wise? Does all knowing mean all seeing all the grieving that survives Are we fit to see the reason that the reason does not sit? Are all answers found in faith and is all faith all knowing wise? How deep are shadows cast by truth burning lives bit by bit? Are we fit to see the reason that the reason does not sit? Nothing shines like sacrifice, a cutting edge will cuts inflict How deep are shadows cast by truth burning lives bit by bit by bit by bit? Fact is just a truthful fiction not an honest contradiction Nothing shines like sacrifice, a cutting edge will cuts inflict Is it a question of believin’ that believin’ answers lies Fact is just a truthful fiction not an honest contradiction No one plans like happenstance, yet still they lie still, these still lives London Knives London Knives London Knives London Knives No one plans like happenstance, yet still they lie still Far Too Many Far too many cigarettes, stubbed out in my face. Far too many insects, flying about this place. Far to many spiders, spinning in my head. Far too many hours spent, inside this baking room. Far too many brain cells dead, I’m in that zombie mood. I got to get out. Far too many locks and bolts, securing my front door. Lost my keys, I lost my keys, I can’t get out no more. I get down on my hand and knees, scrabble under chairs, beneath a pile of maggots I, find my hammer there. The one I use to crack the backs of roaches on the wall, I use it now on the window pain to get me out of hell. I’m standing in the garden when It begins to bloody rain Far too many dustbin lids, playing in the street. Far too many bloody kids, suffering in the heat. Far too many vehicles, driving far too fast. Far too many earfuls, as I’m walking past. Far too many domestic scenes, of easy married grief. Far too many people on, Far too many streets. Far too many on this world, as it spins around. A lonely, cold and helpless rock, sinking without sound. The whole entire universe locked up in a box - No wonder it’s so hot. Help me, I’m melting. I will do things for, to, you if you want me to, take you by the hand I will, I will, I will, I will, I will do things for, to, you I will do the best I can, by you if you want me to, visit virgin land I will do things for, to, you if you’d want me to I do

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

Blog entries by Ant Smith

Devotee (12/04/2010)

Crazy week, 4 gigs in 3 days... (12/02/2010)

Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/antsmith