Performance Poetry Video: Craig Scott’s “The Buffering Stream”

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art, craig scott, performance, poetry, poetry readings, video, writers, writing, youtube

Here’s a quick one from one of our featured writers, Craig Scott. This is his first piece of performance poetry up on Youtube, and we’d like to take this moment on a very hot evening to share this work by this exceptionally talented young Scottish writer with you.

We think you’ll agree with talent like this, Craig is going to go far.

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The Eyes of the Insomniac

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craig scott, creative writing, life, literature, loss, memory, poems, poetry, writers, writing

Day dreaming has changed these days,
I used to only dream about sad things,
I used to hate and aggravate those people who ‘had things’,
I was kept awake by the incessant ‘bom bom bom’,
Of the older model texting alternatives on that phone,
Day dreaming is different now though…
Now all I hear is the slow creak of the chain on the swing at the swing park,
Glasgow summertime,
Solely defined by the hours of sunshine,
Of which we had TWO to choose,
But the other 8,758 of the year were still dominated by you,
Day dreaming,
It’s even messing up my sleep dreaming,
I used to wake up, piss the bed and start screaming,
Let me rephrase that,
I used to wake up, accidentally ‘spill water round my groin’ and start screaming,
Now the demons and monsters thieving in my sleep are even leaving,
Day dreaming is different now,
You picked me up,
Despite offers on the dusty shelf,
Restarted the worn out POWER button and re-turned me to myself,
With a painted on smile,
You found the bleach to clean,
The mistakes that made stains,
And for that I thank you,
Day dreaming so literal,
Every day is a dream.
Solid oak, branching out,
Rooted together…
But don’t leave.

© Craig Scott 2013

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Todays featured poem is by Craig Scott. A writer we have featured before (His poems can be found here), this piece deals with the subject of dreams, memory and reflection. There are tinges of sadness in this poem, of what once was, what is and what may be, and a kind of sagacity and looking backward upon painful memories that have shaped the person into what they are today. However, there is also a hopefulness at play here, an acceptance of the flaws in one’s being, and looking toward the future with a sense of fear, yes, but also with clarity of purpose. An introspective, intensely human piece of work from Craig.

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Twisted Visions

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alcohol, art, blogging, craig scott, creative writing, dagda publishing, new poets, poems, poetry, wordpress, writing

Alcoholic, drinking beer until I find myself some Spirit,
Is that metaphorical or literal?
The vodka trickles down my lip,
Until that tipple turns invisible,
Diving deeper got no oxygen,
A bit of paper & a dodgy pen,
Losing friends,
Just an adolescent pretense,
So pretend this intense irrelevance,
Is just a slanted written version of intelligence,
Hiding dumbstruck,
Avoiding dumb rucks, chatting double Dutch,
Chucking tuppensworth, to those who hide and curl up,
Penning purposeless and penniless poems,
Puncturing with provocation people who don’t even know it,
Mind wanders, squandering any train of thought,
My hindsight’s twenty-twenty so I’m learning a lot,
It’s like educating Satin,
Stuck in school with no relation,
To these kids that go vacations,
Sun, sand & happy faces,
…My recent apathy is a tragedy,
But nothing in life is chasing after me,
So gradually I graft away,
To obscurity with rapid pace…

© Craig Scott 2013

Tangled Webs

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blogging, contemporary poetry, craig scott, creative writing, dagda publishing, depression, loss, love, male poets, modern poetry, new writers, poems, poetry, romantic poetry, tangled webs, wordpress, writers, writing

Tangled webs,
My soul hurts,
I think I’d rather never have loved, than loved & lost instead,
See, I’m depressed,
I walk through Central Station giving pennies to the ‘Walking Dead’,
I know that time flies,
Like that toy plane we built up & let fly from the high rise,
Mean guys are just the average,
Prepared to savagely damage anything remotely romantic,
I didn’t think I was one… You disagreed,
The break up was a long one… I doubt that you’ll be missing me,

Tangled Webs,
My soul hurts,
Sometimes I wish I’d never have loved, than loved & lost instead,
Secrets & lies,
I tried to stop the demise, of what began when I saw you cry,
Now that’s all there seems to be,
Raised voices or petty squabbles, just sitting in front of the TV,
No drink or drug binging,
Hanging out in clubs hinging, on drunk women
Ambition & passion has been,
Missing & lacking,
But the vision of you packing up your bags is distracting,

Tangled webs,
My soul hurts,
Mum’s wrong, I wish I’d never have loved than loved & lost instead,
See, green grass grows & weeds die,
You go from strength to strength; I’m straight from lie to lie,
I try to cry,
Can’t execute the liquid from my ducts I think I’m dead inside,
Our wires criss-crossed,
People look and say his loss, but this was,
A Tangled web with only one fly that gets caught,
So swallow me up & immerse me in guilt,
It’s worse to have lost love ‘cos you know how heartbreak felt.

© Craig Scott 2012