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Lampshade

Plate

Sexual haiku’s by me, Talia Randall and sensational photos of the Roundhouse Poetry Collective taken by Mike Massaro

Me 'n' the crowd

If female ferrets
Don’t fornicate when on heat
They die. It’s a fact

Chima Nsoedo

Chima entertains

Three-minute magic.
Ten minutes sweaty spooning.
Eight-hours sleeping

Suzie Gray

Hymen, how are you?
Growing back? It’s been so long.
Well hello old friend.

Sean's being serious

Sean Mahoney

Relationship sex:
Nice, familiar fumbles
Then we fall asleep

Paul Scott Cree

Ruled by chemistry.
That’s why I’m in love with your
Noxious pheromones

Layila Rage

Me!

Bouncy bouncy bed
Try to ignore my flatmate’s
Squeaky sexy times

‘Eat my Words’ is a participative performance art piece, which invites people to make their own poetry and eat it. Simple.

Here are some of the wonderful poems participants created and ate. Tasty.

By Nicky

Edible words.
My dog likes the idea

The bigger the better
“Scrumdiddlyumptios”,
a fine big word for your belly.

We will never go hungry with such
Fine big words.
What a lovely idea by
Miss edible words.

Louise by Jenny

Luscious locks
Outrageous laughter
Unique and excitable adventurer
Intelligently voiced
Strength of Hercules
Essentially wonderful

Jenny by Louise

Juvenile tendencies
Eager fantasies
Nutterly adventures
Noisy whisperings
Youthful flounderings

James by James
Jumbled
Amiable
Moody
Excitable
Serious

By Clare (inspired by Wendy Cope)
I am making a food poem.
A food poem I am making.
Making a poem I am food.
I am food making a poem.
I am a food making poem.

By Rosie
Would
her
left cheek interject
instead of
the restricted
silence.
Just forget them.

The first challenge is…AMBULANT

“Here we see the Ambulant Man in his natural habitat”.

Ambulant Man.
Chin high, shoulders relaxed under lightweight backpack.
His emotional baggage weighs far more than his luggage.
Keeps moving quick pace before he feels his heavy heart strain.
Keeps belongings close to his chest before he has his heart slain.
His movements are like the flutter of a humming bird.
He hovers over honey nectar and sucks it dry but never lands.
Never settles in sweetness, never gives in to the intoxication
He moves on.

Ambulant Man is brave.
In some ways.
He can travel through danger,
Survive deathly illness
Expose himself to the unpredictable.
But he can’t face his past, his present.
Only wants to face the possibilities that his future could bring.
He cooks up grand schemes; half-baked ideas written on napkins and coasters picked up at cafes and bars from across the world.
Keeps them all in his journal and saves them all up for one day soon.

Ambulant man is too scared to stay still.
Worried that he wont live up to his name of ‘Ambulant Man’. ‘Stationary Man’ doesn’t sound as good,
Doesn’t sound as exciting, not as cool.
Why does he have to be either?
Why can’t he just be a ‘Man’?

Because Ambulant Man
Only wants to experience himself through a foreigner’s lens.
He’s only comfortable when he feels different from others.
Different language, different colour, different customs
He revels in the awkwardness
And tries to transcend language and culture
By gesticulating to the locals with exaggerated hands gestures
And a fake native accent:
“People are the same no matter where you come from, no matter what language we speak, you know?”
But they don’t understand him and offer him trinkets at inflated prices. He refuses to haggle, digs deeper into trust fund.
Bank account grows emptier, heart gets heavier,
Smiles become weaker.

Ambulant Man,
Come and sit a while.

“Haiku, how are you?”
“Well, I feel quite restricted”
“Just learn to relax”

Five Haiku’s In Ten Minutes:

I write a haiku.
If you write another one.
We’ll have two poems.

Minimalism,
restraint, limit, boundaries;
structural poem.

Shiny crisp packet.
Salty fresh on the inside.
Tasty munchy times.

Take the key and see.
Turn the lock clockwise.
Whats behind the door?

Leave it all behind
and forget where you left it.
Then burn all the maps.

http://www.myspace.com/taliarandallspeaks