A Yoga Bartender Review

Before this dream,

     Mastering my profession through discipline must happen, thus a review about bartending and alcohol intake with pace: Mixology EU

I agree,

This humbly poetic ancient fool didn’t start bartending till he was 30, having been in hospitality since graduating uni, I must say that this is my career! At least until my inept social poetic commentary voice is acknowledged.

Crafting an excellent drink for someone is fantastic, I adore the tact of reading the potential client as they approach the bar, even before they engage, I’m engaged. Will they want some banter or will they desire some peace and quite as they genuinely sip an amalgamation of mixology that is their very favourite cocktail, only a frown or smile will tell.

Every day I do at least 30 minutes of yoga before and after my very long double shift of 12+ hours is over, then and only then, at the late to wee early hours of the morning do I chance a sip at my awkwardly favourite whiskey on the rocks before heading off to join my partner whose been past out for several hours.

For me, it’s all about the long sore every appendage aches game, but that’s mostly because the bar I’m at now is a restaurant service bar with cocktails, which I, as the bartender, have to solo… Which includes polishing all my own glass, hosting, running food, some Sommelier tasking at tables as well. I shan’t ever complain because the hard work has taught me to love and respect my chosen career and the practitioners who take the effort to craft skill under a guise of discipline and many many late nights!

So whatever bar you work behind, enjoy and always remember to stretch your mind and flex your body!

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton
The Yoga Bartender
Algorithymns Poet

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A Black Man's Opium Noose

From a Friend: 

Spoken Word By Opium

Waking to unsink the ship

To a slave hell we bid fair thee

The sparks of brimstone well

For in hell prejudice dwells

On sulphur oxygen!

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A Winter Sonnet

Live as a recital, 

Trapped in the shadows of December's sad amnesty song, An ode to joy! Written by the trinity concepts of fall, Months that stream malignant tears like the fading stars from the sky, Voting to bypass the bitter demise of sandcastle earth's season of dark emotion terrors contrived as demons conspire under shade of night, Proposing a vile hope toast to a forever twilight!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Poetry Isn't Just...

In union

Yet opposition

To yesterday's speech

By Sam Small

Matt Gilligan version

The parallel between how you say... 

Anything at all...
And what you say.

Whilst we,

     Can take voice coaching and acting lessons, 

who we are behind the projection doesn't wholly change,

 so what is your message?

Are you driven by conviction?

A built in white over world black moral,

Hand me nature down code of ethics?

Or

Do you simply desire...

A formidable viral status,

An achievement to adorn your mantle,

For the benefit of an insecure confidence,

Why attend the last day on earth ceremony...?

See just how big a part you couldn't have played,

If you'd lived the change the world needed,

Stopped playing at belief,

Instead...

Striving to achieve it,

In every moment,

You're livin' in!

So are there any differences,

Between the sponsored,

A Treasured Ted Talk,

And a Bedroom Poets,

Spoken words...

Spot the depths if you dare!

Between speaking to be heard

And

Speaking because the conviction inside,

Mangles your compassion empathetic imagination engine,

Pacified by... Possibly, a willingly adopted conscious sedation inside.

Create like you speak, for a reason...

Beyond achievement or reward

In earnest anticipation of,

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How to be: Articulate...

Jamila Lyiscott

A Ted Spoken Three Languages Word

Poetry that moves on behalf of...

The future of those attempting

To be articulate

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How to... Speak Truer

Julian Treasure

A Ted Talk on Speaking

Tomorrow's Poem

Poetry Isn't Just...
With Scottish Poet
Sam Small

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Loop Reviewed Poetry Theatre GOMA Take II

Part two of a Loop Theatre Performance at the GOMA review, this one written at home.

Beautifully witnessed,

     Contemporary living unshakeable dreams, too oft left single lonely stage of attention out, Beyond the mountains of stigma, portraying them as mere beautiful insecurity mannequins... Our sight is the disguise, of magnificent change your perception and heart lives.

     As if artistic wish capacity was docile, but it never was... Painting extravagant lip blossoms of budding smiles, forever blooming as happy memories, A new forever recollection portrait of hope, never to be forgotten,  Amidst the ache of our prolific social aptitude sight blemish diagnosis held over others, A test everyone's conscious heart of conviction should refuse to accept.

    Beheld in a magnificent gallery, hall of  acceptance's equality summer after the reign of a bitter December recital, how tangibly organic and beautiful is the heart's choreographed epidermis counterpart locomotion of a memory loop theatre's conscious marionettes, providing more than physical movement!

     If any eyes who witnessed had a heart, surely it  moved!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Loop Reviewed Poetry Theatre GOMA Take I

Written in the moment, 

     As the heart moved whilst watching Loop Theatre Patrons perform at the GOMA, May 2014.

Beautifully witnessed.

     Contemporary living unshakeable dreams, too oft left invisible beside lonely stage mountain, as mannequins... far behind.

     As if artistic capacity wish docile, but not. Painting extravagant lip blossoms of budding smiles, forever blooming in happy memory service upon a museum of faces! A new forever recollection portrait of hope, never to be forgotten

     Beheld in a magnificent gallery, of acceptance choreographed movement.

     If any eyes had a heart, it surely moved!

In earnest anticipation of,

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The Little Things

Sometimes,

      It is better to let be what you have written, as a short malady of words that crescendo into the mind, then the heart and finally the conscious soul of your readers. Let the little things be. For there is oft more magnificence to be found in a brief line than in a poem of infinite stanza(s).

     Standing at the blurred,

      No faithful to hopeless finger lifted in attention; Edge of apocalypse tomorrow, Where the reset of karma's soul caste poverty reincarnation system is blessed by every mythical god's well bloody crimson oil stained red right single digit raised fist!

      The time for equality on our sandcastle hell avarice swollen earth, is at hand...

      Which was posted today, a simple little trick of the vernacular hat poem, that might mean something to someone... Or it may not.

Only a handful,

     Of oaths ever make it... But the disavowed still retain their amnesty towards hope...

     So when toiling under threat of silence in response to your work away, write only what is necessary, nothing more nothing less, as it pours out from compassion's empathetic imagination engine within! But that imp-perfect line, can't be taught, learned or drawn, not really... It can only be discovered in context of the moment as you deem fit.

     For as the art immunization theory states that only you define your art, and therein lies the fluctuating algorithm of assurance, the courage to stand in what you craft.

In earnest anticipation of,

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The Auditorium II

A Place for performance,

     If you're like me, and your home town has no venue for poetry... This space is for you, to win back some of self decaying esteem, back from the beautiful insecurities, that you haven't quite realized are magnificent in your life.

      How we look at ourselves, it shapes us. My journey into poetry began as cathartic journal entries that somehow morphed into stanzas I now know are poetry. But I no longer believe that there are true definitions for what poetry is, in the sense that people can categorise an artists work simply to disavow any creativity therein. This has happened to me and I shall do my best to give you the tools to see through the lies people are feeding themselves and thus handing you.

     One tool is art immunization, a type of self-esteem or confidence, I don't really believe in confidence... That is a disguise projected to create an image, I believe in courage... For it is an image, a disguise worn to projected the created.

     The assurance is not specifically in who you are as a person, more-so as an artist and specifically in what you create and how you interpret people's criticisms of your work(s).  Part of that morale is clarity, or if you will, conviction. Belief in the art you are making is more than just... Or is simply just...

      Created to raise awareness of a particular topic through the finely honed empathetic imagination engine within or woven via inspiration merely to reflect the world around you or the emotional memory shrapnel ache upheaval in any particular moment of life.

     The Auditorium is a place for people to perform, get feedback, discover who they are as an artist whilst listening to other people perform or they themselves performing. Working with f(r)iends to create a piece, collaborating or merely getting some kinds words of mentorship. The online space will be open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with a regular performance schedule and competitions which winners will get awards to show their recognition.

     Whoever and wherever you are on earth, if poetry is your thing, The Auditorium is definitely a place you should check out!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Scottish Poetry Fanzine!

Well Scotland,

     Your poets are on the vernacular war of peaceful resistance path yet again, The High Flight is a new Poetry & Short Story Fanzine made by four artists uniting to create something the rest of the UK might enjoy. How do you find out more, go to the source! First hand account by Sam Small  On Youtube The Indiegogo Campaign is on a march to creative ends!

      So, maybe you know who scarlett johansson is, well she was recently quoted by a 3rd magazine convenient party as stating she'd move to Glasgow, For our poetry scene! Yes, that's right people the creative young persons masquerading as poets in this city have brought attention to it as more than just 'Scotland's Largest City.'

     Not that we're pretending to be poets, only that... Well, a lot of us are humble word noobs that just adore creating and reciting words on behalf of something more than ourselves! I in particular would only call myself a poet on behalf of conviction's onset within, contriving the empathetic imagination engine to write for a cause beyond that which is merely the 'I' entitled me.

     So whether or not you're from Glasgow or Edinburgh, show some support for your peers and those who are creating on behalf of sharing, to inspire something more... In others, even if it is just a smile!

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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Tidings of a Poet's Bargain

It has begun,

      Though a myriad of mistakes have been made throughout the memory ache of this life time; Don't let those mistakes make you.

       Everything is in order, the Algorithymns² Poetry Project Spoken Word University launches it's 30 man spoken word Teamspeak Server this week end! May the conviction in your vocal chords resound in the vernacular of your poetry, as you channel experience through the empathetic imagination engine within, to inspire other to... Arise from inaction to their own aspirations!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Friday's Mental Health & Social Stigma Awareness Poem

Based in part off of,

Dapper Illness Seduced Devil

The Written Spoken Word Transcript from last night's Philanthrobeats performance to end Social Stigma that exists in the intolerant realms towards those with mental ill health.

Dapper Ex-Spider Skeleton Stigma Devil

       For many years of my life, someone very close to me used to tell me I wasn't worth a vivid damn dream, that I should cease to exist at all... Eventually I stopped listening to the ill reprobate in the mirror...

      A quarrelling piano tidal enduring December recital illness flowed like reverse benediction, Holding back the grains of purpose as the beautiful sea of insecurities sandcastles into closed sickness doors of the mind ruins all around the former being that was me.

A Pariah inside my own holocaust anorexic husk.

     A self phantom abusive reflection of a ghastly intangible skeletal devolving limb of hope, no one will ever miss you, fish heritage, not so near the ocean bed of death.

     Compelled in disagreement to condemn the bipolar third deviant-mutated-heroic personality succession Reich, Mindsharing unwanted dermis geometry buried defiled talents of well puppeteered newspeak soliloquim events!

      Holding up shelter under a bulimic self purged esteem, Clothing dripping from the mouth's recent single forced digit crime,  As decay begins to writhe inside gaunt tendencies, Chained to my childhood burnt long suffering watched in emotion terror silence offerings, of health relapsing porcelain criminality!

      Hours distraught spent in earnest anticipation of a redefining night dream cerebus owl curfew moment: When under the napalm amputated wings of sulphur diseased angel's hides the every generation heirloom, written on our poetic sentient conscience soul;  wish!
        A refuge we're all D.N.A promised: of a loving intolerance unadulterated family's acceptance...

     Nature's seemingly artificial knowledge, For in most trial home based cases the embed intel seems derelict of truth. Ringing our bones with purple domestic riddle bruises!
     Our communal reincarnated yearning of a grafted love experience testifies to this sadness...
     But the archaic clarity lore of optimism's structure architects must long sanity lost aspirations ago been released from their infinite ode to a strangely dim joy never found works of sorrow.

      No matter what ill begotten mental strain incapacitates the nights, My fear black dread-ful austerity sheep epidermis is a prison of opaque disguised!

   A guardian's blanket signature pillow cell, With shame walls stained with endless wisdemonic memory ache tears of fallen atonement ash, no longer winged mythical f(r)iends,  Invisible are my only comrades in illness: The seven lions of a pathetic hydra's psalm isolated angel!

      Tonguelessly scream mouthing an inaudible Mother Lord's prayer! Their misery hands severed cauterize bound by incendiary ambitious sins, Are vengeance signing   the unsolicited  failed edge of time safe -  tone scattered grace deaf lethargic hallelujah chorus of inhumanely apathetic shadows, Against the white social lie injustice stigma  that is Avarice's complaisant comfort distracted purpose!

     Bitterly remarking inside that I... I am a strappingly homeless at heart off my own presumptuously assumed arrogant epidermis sleeve! Mumbling like thunder in fright of being vane!

      A dapper self wraith of hope respiratory ill of conscience' breath rarely taken reflection, A solitary mobile devil's anti-acceptance subconscious trench defence against my illness: Denial, Lingering in the paranoid dark murmurs of disavowed ruminations woven in congealing spider's abandoned silken prey blood!

      Fragments of an internal multiple schizophrenic green over sleep's black screen text sourced matrix dream monologue! For which there was no relief from... A jilted shelf white li(f)e of a self deformation ebb and sickeningly thin skeleton flow of a emaciated secondary intramural carapace platform harbinger's requiem!
     A not so wholly believable diagnosis of dissociated identity, unpleasantly haemorrhaging: a war! 
     Hunting the scent of a F(r)iend's silhouette reflected in fire infused sand, With a spear grin tipped dialogue, Entitled: false dismantling pretence, My a-smile!

     Marking the shadowy impression with the scent of dried vampiric dried gasoline thirst vermilion!

      Thriving on lucid burlesque swollen no undergarment tattooed open neck unto fang spectral fantasies!

       At a loss for consuming an arachnid woven silk pill, A gentle ashen mind soothing future from a forest box of fire incapacitated fox wood's second narrowly wicked genesis verse of a prescribed regeneration methods to contain the shadow's self annexed PTSD esteem sickness!

     Declaring a genocide of disagreements from illusionary cohabitants, Abusing the affairs of hope's dignity, The combatants have forever put the self - libel of - acceptance out of action!
      Creating the sub surface sequence of expounding daily episode of regrets, Leading the mirror towards this creeping forlorn doubt twin emotive helix sonnet parasite of well contempt rehearsed humiliation and suicide harmonic guilt!

      Aftermath of a single skin to knife f(r)iendship attempt is this: A blazing steal singed wrist scar!

     If you take no words away from this, remember  the following. Not as lecture or unqualified psalm, but as a reflection from a poet.

Here is the adage:

No one can say they love another, if they do not accept them!
No one can say they accept another, if they do not know them!
No one can claim to know someone, for who they really are, unless they desire it! 

In earnest anticipation of,

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A Ceremony of Updates I: Project

Rest,

      In the assurance of a worthy quest! A project built  for Performers! Poets, I cannot say our time is now, but surely our presence is on the rise. Spoken Word University will allow poets, Short Story Tellers, those interested in listening and writing to gather together no matter where they are in the world via a multiple Online Auditoriums.

     The guardian did a post on performance poetry just the other day, it can be found here for those of you that would like to have a read! : Performance Poetry: Word in the Moment

      There will be poetry competitions some even with themes and templates, which they can edit themselves to fit who they are personally as an artist, especially for those just starting out in public speaking/reading and writing, so that they mould a firmness within their convictions. Allowing each artist to find their originality, voice and presence within the landscape of what their empathetic imagination engines brings forth. 

Such as this short:

SWU: Prayer
All art in heaven, Hallowed be
The empathetic imagination engine 
Occupation of green over black screen
Text based artistic originality;
For Change & Equality

All Art in Heaven, Hallowed be...
The Occupation of Artistic Originality
For Social Change & Equality

      Project Expected Launch Date is September 1st 2014!

Team Algorithymns² Poetry

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The Little Things: A Winter Sonnet

Sometimes it's just the little things,

Massive metaphoric tales of what the mind's eye holds as beautiful or contemptuous aren't always necessary to inspire. Here, is one of several hundred 'Little Things.' Written and posted by Algorithymns Director Juton. A humbly authentic honest poet who writes on behalf of social change, for justice and equality world eternally wide.

Live as a recital, 

Trapped in the shadows of December's sad amnesty song, An ode to joy! Written by the trinity concepts of fall, Months that stream malignant tears like the fading stars from the sky, Voting to bypass the bitter demise of sandcastle earth's season of dark emotion terrors contrived as demons conspire under shade of night, Proposing a vile hope toast to a forever twilight!

In earnest anticipation of,

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A Villain of Truth Managerial Staff Rant Infection

Dearest Animals,

      As 1984 Leaders you: suffer this Orwellian world under your equinox toxic protocol eye verbal stare of willingly abusive witness blind feet, Stomping the silent bottom employment's totem blunt pole of three month force(d) moral defunct assurance security abduction: rate of deposited grave enlisted shift yard parole, A broken engine blood 100% down, Production induced enslavement procedure monitored line manager up, To monotonously micro meticulously mechanically inhuman self-engine follow, Lest ye fail the spineless 90% scrutinizing hover sovereign attention over the shoulder employment days under the occupation theorem of your puny status ladder online irreversible storage updates of life.

     How were you given the opportunity to over sea people, when you have no soft people skills? Don't explain yourself, I'm not daft, University educated yet treated as witless as you attempt to micromanage the simplified documentation on the wall in front of me, in plain diagram to follow text, tasks! A below average primordial dimwitted teenager derelict of consciousness could make ease of this!

     You must have been a brown clause nose adopted member of managerial infected greed children of the cosmic hive profit only matters like sick minded reality alignment. Don't dare you begin to tell me the story of how long you've been with the company, that you deserve to be where you are. Nothing matters beyond your nose unless its the grotesque bear form ass of your boss you've been suckling at for the past age of your life, especially how you profess to care about employees below your social malignant stigma intolerance status.

    Dire circumstance dice, Snake tattooed slave rolled in permanent epidermis ink, Undeniably desperate to feed its lonely teenage wrong time offended sons battling younger sibling daughters, Both at captive home protesting this right of chapter life: Baby-illicit lost time sitting. Existing in the deluge of amputated shameless conscience man morality hole down managerial bleed out staff, Troll under the secret 90 day employment parole toll ageing fifty year work bridge, Holding onto the clause of retirement's age 55 early death restricted denied hope access! Stealing all its subordinate marionette's eternally supposedly equal liberties, Replacing them with a conscious green over black screen matrix text sedation, A hyper everyone must click link. All the while saluting a god wearing Gucci greed do nothing in the end goggles, who stores folders of fodder's files in a Prada leather soul burdened manifest profit destiny blessed bag.

     It is a thousand  leaps and toxic foot print bounds that you've found your way into this managerial role! A swollen God Damned the world inside your swollen buzzard all must procedurally follow the status bloated quo plague example of your hand chain of me command mouth spouting hate blame the victim speech tongue regurgitating hateful spite intolerance straight from your vulture skeletal white husk cross tattooed gut.

     How do you live with your intolerable immoral confident yet conviction-less, self in the mirror? Are you so white tumour inner placid, raise no compassionate finger, eye blind?  How can you treat the puppets at your feet this historically recorded slavery way, you repeat daily... Do you not see the fear for their ability to feed their families behind their subjugated submissive servitude eyes as they twelve hour shift days work as slaves for meagre wages... Does nothing give your gut an awful ache? I bet you instantly change the channel or walk away in rage that you've just intolerably suffered to witness a child televised starving, in a charitable request or journalistic way!

      Well surprise mother illegitimate power drunk trip f*cker! I get it, you've been complacent in this position too long of holding on to other people's derelict bulimic self esteem dignity in the top tier for too long, now 'Manager' is now built in. You can't see it's graft to the failure that is your personality, I mean to say that nature's moral trench is a wreckage and it's in part thanks to people like the lion in you, desiring to tame everyone in sight.

      It's a hard self confession pill of a rock to swallow, the fact that atonement's clause will never be yours. The epidermis habitat cocoon that is everything about you is against humanity, indeed you empower an early coffin grave for a young father, your yard is his prison. For the ideals your hope once conjured no longer ring any matter of profitable fact true! 

     We, the proletariat harbingers, are now more educated, adaptable and better at the 'job,' you profess to do. Upon our backs does your malignantly cancer spread, unfortunately we're too weary from our daily bleed grind to life the remnants of our fingers to supposedly democratic vote against you. We acknowledge who runs this world and it isn't our benign governments. Because you're stuck in an ancient vibe of process that's no longer necessary, our education system no longer needs to fill it's shell with like no minded drones once reserved for the corporations that desire their 'any office to coffee shop we own this space,' everyone mustn't be exactly the sedated same. 

     Save hum-beat the old-drum animals proclaiming themselves defiant still, as if leaders.

In earnest anticipation of,
Our Freedom

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Creative 'Unblock' Storm Project(s)

Weather,

     Whether or not you develop your own creative mode under the beautiful ominous threat of silence or betwixt the eternal sound scape overture pressures of malady and melody, there is method in the subconscious madness that marionette string self pull persuades your creativity to come alive.

      The storm is often harsh of criticism, whether from the external society that 'just doesn't get it' or from the self, where doubt lingers for lack of a confident foundation. This is what the Algorithymns Poetry² Project Spoken Word Universe(ity), is all about; instilling courage upon conviction in artists, so that they might overcome and utilize the life stage threat of silence to their advantage, whether that be whilst performing or in every day to day social 9 to lonely 5 irregular artistic interval existence interaction.

     Don't let the master-peace hand dramaturgy craft fate key into dreams go redundant to everyday survival epiphanies drumming lullaby comfort shallow aspirations into the depths of your imaginations wonderful creative tide.

In earnest anticipation of,

   

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An Ode to Ukraine: Roulette Oppression Russian Dice I

A Written Spoken Social Commentary Word, 

By Juton

Algorithymns Poetry² Curator of Spoken Word Universe(ity)

Take the prose obliterated metaphor as deep 

As the white transparent lie rabbit marionette hole will take you

For there resides the honest self and the stage of silence.

Hospitable probe of hostilities,

     Failed dystopian conduit of guilt, benign of remorse amidst civilian voted half blood oppression cash torture suffering conduct in Ukraine's anonymous occupation cotton slavery field's distorting willingly opaque lies conquering knees paper clip seated upon calf ash gang cloven green foot remains; hands nailed to the throne of compassion's erupting pain, the ground before Putin's white holocaust Hilter's artistic iron distorted fist canvas perforated eye failure has adopted a second hate tongue language of control's second cold chance winning rogue hand war sequel as penance is ghastly broken string pretend marionette string performed behind a secret shade vale of twilight dim internal grey cloud bleeding under an invisible guise of inner heart never skeletal X  marks belief's dying swollen cycle sky spotted vulture belly of dictatorship's nether spawn cemetery minor chord over major threat  lies.

In earnest anticipation of,

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Charles Bonnet Syndrome I

Mainly Affects Elderly or...

     The Lost of Sight, A visual synapse loss syndrome chapter of, 'for the most part,'mild off mental ill social health stigma target quota let down reality's guard to blindness organized enjoyment hallucination merry unexpected entertainment break from the dreary on kilter edge of normality.

In earnest anticipation of,

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An Documentary Inspiration Poem

The following poem was inspired by Blue Apple Theatre Company's

BBC Video of Hamlet Production can be found:

Hamlet, by Blue Apple Theatre

The content below is not wholly endowed with positivity

Some of it is inspired by initial reactions to a beautiful life discovery

That a child born into this world might be less than 'the status-quo healthy norm'

But that is not the whole story, the heart grows with the blossoming diagnosis

Warm scars cover the wounds of once cold looking down eyes

So that the achievement of acceptance and hope can happen

The following rings true 

In this, as in every tale...

How can we love someone, if we don't accept them?

How can we accept someone, if we don't understand them?

How can we understand someone, if we spend no quality time with them?

So it is with love, oft it grows upon us with time

With trials, smiles and understanding

That hope is absolutely...

Necessary

Without Further Ado

Blue Apple Syndrome Seed

Blue rose seed

Prey of great trials
Psalms of grief in harmony

Frail light child song awakening

Prolific doubt can rest easy

Hope rescues shapes

A future at stake

On life's stage

Theatrical rise

Awakened senses

A singing bell defeat

Threat of silence ended

No womb fragile abnormality

Courageous life stage protagonist

Vibrant chiselled portrayed smile

Adversity sculpted honest hero

Waking a family's acceptance

Dramatic acting achievement

Shakespeare's flag to raise

Banner of Hamlets loss

Waking the blue apple

In a mother's eye

From depression

 and nightmares

Of a life lost

Degenerate 21

Hereditary altercation

Would be parents fallacy

Acting on life's diagnostic stage

Narrow view of our god's image redefined

Failed regulated right to life's health check up

Cleansing our Father in heaven chromosome prayer

Genetic disorderly prenatal screening opted misconduct

Fallen blue face struggling to breath face down apple syndrome

Cure for an unavoidably daily wounded mother's heart sick detour of thought

Vocal no more than a singularity moment's never answered thank God wish

Umbilical chords strangling prayers of children by blood's own hands

Academy of cursed angels voice boxes singing holy fire spells

Casting oracle seer's no future for kid killer's incantations

Invoked upon selfish unspoken hive greedy mind psalms

Vomited spiritually defining juncture of spoken words

Gesture messages in a bottle to heaven minted sent

Eternal habitat ran out of hallowed supplies

Bearing the metallic titanium bone weight

Of amputated womb prayer attempts

At selling a child's untested soul

Into hell's unending traffic

Or a divine purgatory

Ghost town colony

A forever prison

Press enter...

To continue?

Blue apple embryo

Seed of immense trials

Prey of narrow God Psalms

Poems wrought of comfort wishes

Where hope lay isolated from joy in chains

Caught between depression and madness

Frail child's life misinterpretation

Weary faith diary unfolded

A Mother's understanding

And love's acceptance

Journal of compassion

She writes now

Nature's dramaturgy 

Teleporting selfish dreams

Disrespectful comfort sickness

Ineffective security wound clots

Weakness ailment  avails no smile

Beauty of dismantling points of view

Transmission of a young life's aspirations 

Hope's cure lingers behind grey clouds

Characters of a hive mind disapproval

Inner cultural norm breakdown

Tempting malady depression

Bad thought habit kick

Invoke a feeble smile

Awe's testimony

Amidst hope's turbulence

Rearranging the illicit sadness tide

Fallen wonder re-established

Wounds peace cauterized

Acceptance discovery

Understanding is...
Sanguine's smile

Eternal

Blue life seed

Stage ever presence

Glittering edged sword

Smile of a newborn combatant

Gene besieged tiny heroic vessel

Malady champion assaulting life's plot

Braving the social intolerant stigma

Tireless faithful smile harbinger

Imposing wondrous charm

From an endless source

A joyous family scene 

Embodying equality

This is acceptance

Expounding

Hope

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A Written Spoken Word: Rune of Luck

Running up sand dunes,

      From the miller's anxious slow glass reverting to grains of above the avarice skies greed's bad no luck son is falling in extended malicious cat nails single puncturing digit palms as dogs chased them down beyond the frozen throne realm over of hell's condescension where the ashes of angels for whom the complication of bells stood idle never tolled, Therein held vocally tone ransom deaf unto inaudible chords unstroked by the touch of time's fatherless origin soul who would omit an overture of logically sound evolutionary speech to surrender all inhumanity incapable of resurfacing greed's crescendo of guilt unto shame's debt.

In earnest anticipation of,

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Community Interest Company: A Non-Profit Start Up. S.W.U

     Spoken Word University is a non-profit Community Interest Company Start Up that is taking a new stance on performance poetry, bringing the sate go the poet.  Through digital platforms on the web and smart phone, performers and listeners alike will be able to log in to The Hub and access The Auditorium for daily events; such as workshops, poetry slams, short story readings, rehearsals, exercises and small group recitals. 

     Spoken Word University also offers new poets a chance to memorize and recite in a small groups and at smaller events, the 'Spoken Word Prayer,' it might sound a bit silly, but there is courage to be found in speaking together, helping the shy to be bold, empowering the the voiceless to find their vocal chords and ending the threat of silence, once and for all!

     Participants events will receive recognition, bursaries and prizes ranging from; interviews and reviews of their work, tech (hardware and software) as well as being sponsored as performer of the month, having their art broadcast over all mediums Spoken Word University endorses and beyond, reaching out to other organizations. 

    And so the prophecy of online poetry continues... Yeah right, silly noob. Enjoy, have a great Friday night, stay safe, create and keep in touch ya'll!

In earnest anticipation of,

Juton

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A Written Spoken Word: Polite History

     The following is but a small 'written spoken word' adventure that blurted out this evening, this is one of six of these that was done today and nearly every day from our Curator, Juton. Hope you all enjoy, look forward to witnessing submissions for exposure, growth and thought provocation in the future.

Glittering etymology,

     Paper historical oracle marionette figures, Lost in a sea of captivated heart beats trying their obligated best to endeavour one grand suggestion upon the shores of inhumanity's next discovery, 'Be ever reminded children of the one truth clause; that no narrow profit black screen of riddles gone cold in death as the green metaphoric text bleeds off can ever outweigh any minute seemingly insignificant cost. Remember to tolerate one another in simplicity of duplicating the true remedy of acceptance via dignity and enjoy the attention given to society by attempted artistic intervention methods against the monetary deficit into debt before the queen of crimson faltering hearts flailing tattoos bleeding off sleeves amidst the complex of this falling Sandcastle Earth.

In earnest anticipation of

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Clarity of Avoidance

(un)Certainly,

     Just a simple slave to hope that someday the words pouring forth unspoken to written, will inspire something in others someday. Some people have contacts and friends out there who can help them achieve their dreams in the pursuit of acceptance, the only treasure worthy is said virtue.

      I strive alone, however, my mouth aches after a jaw crack nearly breaking from the anthem of silence's threat that resounds so loud in the desert of the vernacular double new think speak written by the empathetic imagination engine scribbling inklings upon these pages.

    But we should always protest the most abysmal ransom, hold our hearts captive, threat of emotion terror that is silence. For some day, far off or just round the next unforeseen bend, we'll find our courage in the dignity that is acceptance, in the unguided front battle lines of our greedy agent mustard orange intoxicated moral trenches, barely surviving on our avarice earth, this beautiful planet in Sandcastle Universe.

    Forever and then another day in the ethereal complex green over black text tattooed heart off my sleeveless wrist bleed out finality infraction occurrence shall there be poetry, even if no one remembers a word this sponsor of hope ever wrote.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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An Introduction to a Poetry Start Up Project

A very fine good day to you all,

      I was just wondering if you guys had time or desire even, really, to look over a non-profit start up of mine, especially the text artists, Spoken Word and Administrative type personages, Sandcastle Earth Citizens.

     I am nothing more than a meagre poet, whose been writing for several years without eyes or ears knowledge, despite my best social to mixed media platform efforts. Possibly I am just terrible and should give up, but the ideas and words keep coming so I do not hinder them.

      The project is, at this point of Open Beta / Research and Development, entitled Spoken Word University, but may have to fall back on another name before launch, which would most likely be Algorithymns Poetry².

       As I mentioned it is a not for profit start up that aims to give aspiring text artist, prose writers, especially poets and future spoken word artists an online hub to reach out to one another.

      This will be done via a Team Speak Three hosted server, which will be upgraded before launch to hold 900 people, in various channels; some entitled by languages, themes and quantity of space. The Auditorium channel will be able to hold everyone, provided they are pulled in by an administrator.

     For the protection of others, registration for the event will be necessary so that the user with their designated user name, IP verified, can be pulled into the channel to witness the event, which will range from Poetry Slam Competition to short story readings.

     There will also be forums with topics that match the channels in the Team Speak Server, which incidentally people can log into from an iOS app for various smart phones, this means that artists can grow wherever they are, world wide.

     The entire goal of Spoken Word University is more than education, mentorship and artistic progression, it means to inspire hope amidst conviction in a time when greed threatens every avenue of the moral trenches. 

     This will give a solid foundation for the artist to stand on, no matter how much ridicule or trolling their art, spoken or written, might receive they can always stand on their convictions. Knowing they are supported by a vast crew of friends the world over they can speak with confidence, or if that fails, courage should ever and anon suffice.

      Thanks for reading gang, check out the Beta (html noob made website):    Spoken Word Uni Site

     Does something like this have a place in the world today? 

     Is it feasible to be a not for profit, I don't want to monetize it unless I absolutely have to in order for the project to remain active pre launch of after. 

     If you do believe in the project, would you be prepared to help social network a kick-starter campaign to be launched in the near future or favourite, like and share some of the Written Spoken Word poetry found herein to the benefit of all.

    What can I make more clear on anything this early in the game (besides the goals for they will become more focused as the project gains momentum and support)?

     

In earnest anticipation of,

Juton 

074 556 01010

An Algorithymns Poetry² Project

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The Power of Lines

What one simple word spawns,

     Resurrects another from the nether, for an ethereal realm of invisible shadow fires synapses in an overture that holds true to the power of anyone's tale. For as we read another's so too do we relive our own, through smell and sight amidst deaf tones of an uncertain future, humanity must hold true to empathy! So that we might reach out to one another, on this majestic, yet oft overtly greedy and inhumane, sandcastle earth.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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Challenging Stereo Art Types

The integration of words,

     While S.W.U manoeuvres its Start Up Self into position to become a world renowned source for the future of Poetry, Spoken Word and mixed media text-art, let us, in the meanwhile, consider what Spoken Word might look like if it we were to read it as if it were produced in said form of prose.

     It might look like the following, holding strongly laced prose to a political, social or inhuman to our earth stance. See below for Malefic Condescension III

Prophetic seer's groan,

     Pure urge of a peaceful vision clause trapped in the heart's of undeserving greedy men who stand as a beacon of apathy at the end of lethargy's dusty hateful rage penetrating nature's light with unkindness house of battle never won dread forever yet naught in a future of cries where inhumanity the only virtue of Avarice bride of the shallow unbelieving who reside above the moral trench wars.

In earnest anticipation of,

     The above is one in a sequence of poems that holds weighty connotation towards a particularly narrow point of unoriginal view, held by so many unhappy folk today. Unhappiness, discontentment, these are the reasons why I delve into the poetic depths and continuously search to inspire the opposition; acceptance, equality, hope...

     Poetry, and in particular Spoken Word, has magnificent well word woven structure, the metaphor and double think (in jest and parody usually) that are lived out on stage, under constant threat of silence, are astounding. The passion to create, the daring to perform... Alone! And yet, poetry's reach is not so grand, at least not yet, possibly it shall never be.

     But that doesn't mean we have to hold ourselves ransom to the threat of silence; not from an audience or praise from our families and friends, for the emotions, the moral trench conviction, all the creativity and passion held within and said allowed or written, are the vehicle for change.

    S.W.U Seeks to utilize the web to bring together poets from all over the world, in all languages in order to promote poetic people's work through recognition, this shall be done through The Auditorium, a 900 Person Spoken Word Server that will be used to host poetry slam competitions, with rewards that you'll be able to keep on your wall, in your desk or pinned to your shirt as you travel the world... Though I think 'pinned' is not quite the right adjective to the function of holding a plaque upon one's favourite check mate T-Shirt.

     In the future we will be delving deeper into what poetry is, where you can take it and how you can utilize so many different options out there to build your confidence... Which is mostly just courage any ways, so yes! Mentor you in courage, I suppose is the correct vernacular.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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Contact

Contacting Spoken Word Universe(ity):

Can be done through our Project Community Interest Company Algorithymns² 

Algorithymns@gmail.com

or via email

Curator Juton Felix-Edward

jutonakoto@gmail.com

Phone: + 44 + 745 560 1010

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About

Spoken Word University,

     Is an Algorithymns² Non-Profit Project that will not only help poets find their voice, be it written or spoken, but it will empower real life every day, not always visible skills every generation needs, not for success but to survive and thrive!

       Thus it is our chiefest goal, beyond and before teaching poetry and prose, to instil those who attend S.W.U events, from publicly spoken word competitions and workshops to online competitions and classes and social studies with confidence, social skill, wisdom and perception

      One of the key elements of S.W.U is not just teaching stage presence, including the ever so key vigilance that is oft neglected, 'the threat of silence,' but also grafting life skills upon our students and peers.

      Most anyone with an unregulated amount of accumulative intellect can learn most any skill over time, from helicopter pilot to deja vu physical theatre mime performer and then only W.W.E Wrestling actor to nuclear physi-psychologist... But something that is a rare form occurrence to be taught is respect, honesty, trustworthiness, wisdom, perceptiveness, consciousness, a healthy attitude, positivity, resourcefulness, a hard work code of never neglected ethics.

      All of the above are features of a human being, one that had to be matrix green over black screen binary text terraformed back from to nature's genetic apathetic greed altered nurture that our society has become so willingly complainant and blind lingering in today.

      Currently Spoken Word University is in Alpha Testing and Research and Development.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton
Villain of Truth
Algorithymns² Curator
Algorithymns@gmail.com

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Beta Auditorium Test Begins

The Auditorium is now live...! In beta.

      A Team Speak 3 Hosted 32  space for spoken word, for wherever you find yourself in the world. Find  it here Teamspeak 3 and on iOS in the App Store.

                                      IP: 81.110.235.236 or Search for: Spoken Word University
                                                                               
      See you lions with vocal chords lingering in the channels of the Auditorium in the future! In the quagmire of chilling softly rare form spoken heart off the sleeve felt words in the lonely mountain of isolated fog.

      Currently Spoken Word University is in Alpha Testing and Research and Development.


In earnest anticipation of,
Juton
Villain of Truth
Algorithymns² Curator
Algorithymns@gmail.com

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Coming Soon: The Auditorium

Spoken Word University, An Algorithymns Poetry² Project will soon be launching the Online Spoken Word Auditorium!

In earnest anticipation of,

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