Speak! Performances (Masked Monkeys, Ice Falls, Life is Like)

Watch all three pieces I did at Ottawa's biggest and best coffee house Speak! Yeah, if you didnt come then you guys missed out on a good ass show. Alas, all is not lost, here are my performances! I better see you at the next one! Love and thanks goes out to Graeme "Loh El" O'Farrell for doing the camera work. For more poetry hit up http://www.youtube.com/user/EzraPoundLives 

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Ever Wonder What My First Performance Sounded Like?

If you have then here it is. The first two poems I've ever performed... Came a long way since then. Enjoy, as this is kinda embarrassing for me to watch!

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Angel Wings

Dedicate this to catharsis....

Have you ever seen an angel who cut both her wings off with her own hands?
So damned, mad at God cuz she figured out the bearded old man’s whole plan
She fell to live amongst man, around the time when I was lost believing nothin’
Lost and in need of lovin’, lost in my mother’s regular topic of discussion
“Lowlife”, “deadbeat” all for pursuing a form of art instead of a degree
So I decree, I’m never gonna stop and I’m making that into a creed
Mama, please forgive me cuz I’m gonna put my dream in an animation state
So suspended, you’d swear they were striking at Disney, competition please forgive me
Cuz if you try to get in my way then I’m chopping you down to mince meat
God please forgive me, I’m hoping one day you’ll finally be able to kiss me
See, I’m thinking of callin it quits, the hole in my heart has become a bottomless pit
Lost in a kiss and harmin’ its lips, caught in a fit in a garden of cists
But a Rombough once said that my art didn’t define me, I define my art
And I took that line to heart, in a rat race amongst all the lions and sharks
Where my demise is imminent, televised live on internet tellin’ lies
Of a little kid, I made this bed but I won’t lie, I’ll swim in it
Carving a crown of thorns into my own chest to remember how love aches
Sittin’ in a levee making mud cakes chanting “Someone release the flood gates!”
Cuz down here we all float, doctor or bum, don’t matter, we all drown the same way
And ultimately, in the end, we’re all slowly rushing towards the same fate
Save grace or save face, you can’t do both lose hope cuz we’re all living for the next day
A pawn facing a king can only be found in a chess game and it gets lame
Living for the city, I’ll be the first to admit, it gets sorta silly
When you find that I did all of this to get my slice of pie with expired filling
Cuz I don’t need to own a treasured whip, all I need is a clever quip
And I’ll treasure this equipped with metal fists, revel this cuz the pebble fits
Despite popular belief, this isn’t a poem about following your dreams
It’s more about how you maintain it when it starts to come apart at the seams
Trying to kiss an angel but it might be fatal, stealing light from her halo
Sinking in the same boat, I find hope is found at the end of a rainbowTweet

Cement Shoes

Really don't know what to say about this one, I basically just let my emotions guide the pen. It should come with no surprise though, seeing how there's a heavy emphasis on emotions in this poem. Watch me dance with cement shoes on!

Tell em they can’t walk in my shoes cuz my souls are worn out living in a present past

Training myself to put my worst foot forward first so I can save the best for last

An impressive cat that learned early on in life never to resent its laps

And to this day the lesson last see I have this tendency to talk first & listen last

A motor mouth who soldiered out, living in his motor house

Trying to sort it out, I thought it out still missing what it’s all about

Missing what it’s all about so tell those two self righteous poets, I don’t need them to like me

So they can go to Hell cuz I’ve been there & back & that’s where I learned to be young & feisty

And how I learned to spit with a thirst so raw that it can’t be quenched with just any iced tea

So tell God to Skype me unless I’m crazy and I very well just might be

Tell those two self righteous poets that we never needed to be friends

Cuz when you lost it you find better company with the voices in your head

But they’ll remain nameless cuz I could talk so much s*** but my stomach would get upset

Then to win it back, I’d have to apologise for all the mean things I said

With my knees on the gravel, I’ll grovel to Gravol, still pass the paper

Cuz ever since I dropped out, this rascal’s major has been to draft a paper

That’ll historically rival Pascal’s wager but the future has more to see

And with zero potency, I’ll try to live on through my emo poetry

Singing my heart break to my crush like 

You be the princess,

I’ll be your monster

Have you met your prince yet? 
Could he be your martyr? 
I bet he ain’t artistic

Aimlessly I’ll wander, 
I wanna taste your lipstick
Instead I’m left with heart hurt

But she’ll turn away cuz I’m not much of a singer, still I’m singing harder

Till my tonsils sore, the Child’s missing the good old days of the console wars

If only Sega knew, if only Sega knew exactly what’s in store

But alas, we’re both obsolete, two 16 bit souls in a Black Ops age

And from what I hear, PlayStation’s all the rage I fall from grace, far from safe

So I draw blood to draw guns to draw love on a pad armed with crayons

The day’s long, feeling right at home with the blues & the paper I create on

My feelings are right at home, the resent, the reject, & my personal lament

Tell em they can’t walk in my shoes cuz these shoes are custom made of cement

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