Jenni Pascoe

Biography

Jenni Pascoe is a performance poet, currently based in Gateshead, Tyne and Wear. A regular audience member at Pink Lane Poetry and Performance in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, she was encouraged by several of the poets to start writing her own work. She developed her style by writing poetry that was specifically intended to be performed to an audience, (rather than read from the page), mixing wordplay, humour, and even occasional serious and educational moments into her work. Jenni performed her poetry for the first time in December 2009 at Pink Lane's Christmas party, where she won the audience vote. She has since gone on to win the 2010 Hexham Book Festival Poetry Slam, and the 2010 Lamplight Poetry Slam. Jenni regularly performs at poetry events throughout the North-East of England, and performed as part of 'Apples and Snakes', at the Words in Motion tent at the 2010 Big Chill Festival. She has also runs 'JibbaJabba', a monthly spoken word open mic night in Newcastle. Jenni strongly advocates the wearing of hats!

Samples

Meg - A Univocalism in 'E' Meg free-wheeled here, Wheeeeee! Then fell, she yelled, 'Help me!' Her feet embedded between dew-drenched weeds! She screwed her eyes, wrenched her heels free Phew! Newly freed, she peered Westerly, She'd seen sheep, penned, Between ferns, reeds, dense green trees, The ewes slept endlessly. Meg remembered she needed eggs Steered her wheels, where hens dwelled Nested by the sheep's pen, She peeked, eyed hens, petted them, Hens were smelly, reeked eggy smell! They pecked Meg, defended the eggs well, Meg fled, she knew better! Pesky hens, she'd needed eggs, needed her feed, She went where she knew she'd seen cheese, Meg peeked between the fences, Where greedy Jerseys, chewed receded reeds, She'd get the best cheese here! She fed herself the cheese refreshment, Felt glee, then presently, needed rest , She wheeled, she veered, then entered her shelter, Sleepy, tempted by her velvety bed She crept between the sweet, fresh sheets, Nestled, settled, there slept Meg. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gordon Brown - A Univocalism in 'O' Old school swot, Scot, Gordon Brown, Lost lot's of dosh, Now common folk scowl! Crooks of HBOS, Lloyds, cook books Loss of loot folds London, Whoops! Brown borrows from moody mob Who hock gold for lolly, now got no jobs Gloomy Gordon frowns, forlorn, Vows to smooth choppy storm To stop folk's sobs of sorrow, To boost growth for tomorrow Spots old pro Tom O'Connor who, Consorts to jot good words for Brown, To cool moods of cross crowds who 'Boo!' 'Crossword God' Tom's, on top form now, O' Connor's strong mottos soon wow throng Words comfort crowds....not for long... Gordon forgot words, poor sod's blown show, Stroppy mob flock for Brown's blood, Oh No! Tory boys swoop to crow, throw scorn, To mock Gordon's flop, Poor Scot looks worn. Slowly, robot Brown plods off, Broods on how to stop monotony, Short of plot to go for lobotomy Looks for joy on goggly-box, Nowt on BBC, only dross, Cotton hosts old Top of Pops Songs boom, boy's who won MOBOS croon Brown combs room for comfort food, Chomps on bowls of Coco-Pops, Now woozy, drops sloppy spoon on stool Snoozy Gordon snorts, drools, Bolts down most of choccy-poppy scoff, Plonks down on floor, Gordon promptly nods off. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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

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