Thursday, March 13, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Tales in Teen Angst Poetry in Vancouver (well just outside)
Feb. 16, 8 pm-
Tales in Teen Angst Poetry -Sara Bynoe's Teen Angst standup/ poetry show.
At The Tsawwassen Arts Centre
1172 56th St, Delta, BC
Tickets at the door: $10-12.
I hope you can make it out to the'burbs to see it.
Part stand-up comedy, part performance poetry, part theatre- all Sara Bynoe!
You'll leave this show wishing you never threw out/ burned your old journals and singing the tune of "Fuck off and die."
Expect the show to be a medley of mortification; poems of rhyming swears, classic teen ravings like ‘no one understands my pain’ and ‘I will never love again,’ a heart-bleeding song inspired by break-ups and an ode or two to Kurt Cobain. Part stand-up comedy, part poetry reading, and part verbatim theatre, Fuck off and Die is a heartfelt yet hilarious valentine for every lonely, angry and misunderstood teenager that ever lived because the truth is everyone understands your pain. Especially Sara.
Directed by AJ Demers (host of The Spin on City TV Calgary and a Loose Moose alumni), Sara Bynoe will have you leaving this show wishing you never threw out/ burned your old journals (or really thankful that you did).
Next Show
FINALLY! The show is back up!!!
March 11- Teen Angst: A Celebration of Inadvertently Hilarious Adolescent Writing, at The Railway Club, 579 Dunsmuir Street, doors at 7pm show at 7:30 sharp- 9pm.
This will be a recurring monthly show on the second Tuesday of every month (March 11, April 15, etc.). If you'd like to read e-mail teenangstpoet@gmail.com.
Note to readers, due to our limited
time at the Railway club please keep readings under 10 min. You can read anything from poems to diary entries, to singing old songs, reading plays, letters, essays- ANYTHING! so long as it adheres to the following rules.
1- The work must be your own.
2- You must have written it between the ages of 10-19.
3- You must be over your old angst.
4- It is recommended that if you read it and 'cringe' it's worth sharing.
Check out www.youtube.com/sarabynoe for Sara's examples.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Untitled
Love, acceptance
Conditional
Can’t be myself
Want to be the best
Everything my neighbor wants
Considering the consequences before my actions
My actions? Or your desires?
Avoiding negative reactions
Be anyone else that fits the descriptions
Not me, not myself, not for me, not for myself
“Egoist”; the password to my self-hate, the key
How easy it is to mold me
Circle but I fit into triangle, square
Acting, show, denial
Running away from the person I can’t accept: Me
Boy? Girl? Friend, lover, enemy?
Do I want the best of others for myself?
Ignorance, blindness
I’ve built myself to become what? Me? Or a robot ruled by anyone else’s feelings
Anyone who could love me, accept me.
By: Maria
Category: other
Conditional
Can’t be myself
Want to be the best
Everything my neighbor wants
Considering the consequences before my actions
My actions? Or your desires?
Avoiding negative reactions
Be anyone else that fits the descriptions
Not me, not myself, not for me, not for myself
“Egoist”; the password to my self-hate, the key
How easy it is to mold me
Circle but I fit into triangle, square
Acting, show, denial
Running away from the person I can’t accept: Me
Boy? Girl? Friend, lover, enemy?
Do I want the best of others for myself?
Ignorance, blindness
I’ve built myself to become what? Me? Or a robot ruled by anyone else’s feelings
Anyone who could love me, accept me.
By: Maria
Category: other
Still
Silent but
I can still hear you
Your voice.
Cold but
I can still feel you
Your touch.
Bland but
I can still taste you
Your flavor.
Neutral but
I can still smell you
Your fragrance.
Empty but
You are still with me
Your presence.
By: Maria
Category: other
I can still hear you
Your voice.
Cold but
I can still feel you
Your touch.
Bland but
I can still taste you
Your flavor.
Neutral but
I can still smell you
Your fragrance.
Empty but
You are still with me
Your presence.
By: Maria
Category: other
(Untitled)
Gone
You’re out of my life,
And all I can do is watch the minutes, hours, days go by
Without you
I think of all the things I could, should, would have said
Now I can’t speak because of my tears being shed
Not here
We wanted to be together till we die
And we were never given the chance to say goodbye
Not together
I think of what could have been
And if you ever think about me.
By: Maria
Category: other
You’re out of my life,
And all I can do is watch the minutes, hours, days go by
Without you
I think of all the things I could, should, would have said
Now I can’t speak because of my tears being shed
Not here
We wanted to be together till we die
And we were never given the chance to say goodbye
Not together
I think of what could have been
And if you ever think about me.
By: Maria
Category: other
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
i'm afraid to say this because of how you would react
tiny. you shrunk
me so i was tiny. you and the role you play (and it would
be so fun to be your therapist).
how can you not feel anything?
fuck, [name_deleted], i loved you.
remember talking on the phone?
the vagina monologues?
muddy's?
your infatuation with girls and me always trying to help?
i was there for you
at least i tried
could you have said anything like that the night
before i left
you, [name_deleted], were one of my best things.
GODDAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You're "moving on?" and i was forced to move on and you would
probably have wanted me to leave alwayz.
fuck. i got angry. though i don't know what at. your unwillingness to get close to pain? your part of you that pushes back emotions and
"FUCK YOU!" -- 2003 -- I remember sitting in early morning Russian class and instead of writing a sappy love poem, really allowing myself to be angry. I never finished the poem because I thought it was too angry and I should always be nice to [name_deleted], no matter what.
By: Theadora
me so i was tiny. you and the role you play (and it would
be so fun to be your therapist).
how can you not feel anything?
fuck, [name_deleted], i loved you.
remember talking on the phone?
the vagina monologues?
muddy's?
your infatuation with girls and me always trying to help?
i was there for you
at least i tried
could you have said anything like that the night
before i left
you, [name_deleted], were one of my best things.
GODDAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You're "moving on?" and i was forced to move on and you would
probably have wanted me to leave alwayz.
fuck. i got angry. though i don't know what at. your unwillingness to get close to pain? your part of you that pushes back emotions and
"FUCK YOU!" -- 2003 -- I remember sitting in early morning Russian class and instead of writing a sappy love poem, really allowing myself to be angry. I never finished the poem because I thought it was too angry and I should always be nice to [name_deleted], no matter what.
By: Theadora
More Untitled Pieced by Theadora
Untitled
naked
pretty h
shoveled out the house
fringe of worms
stomach doubled up
what is a shoat?
sore
all played
stumping out the door
like the back of his hand
"pointless rambling poems" -- truly a WTF. a month later it was a wTF. 2003.
Untitled
they write about
finding pleasure through pain
after I cut
pink, open wounds
I went in the shower
and got down with myself
feeling the cuts burn
with the water
and the vibrations
Almost cried
I'm gone
you're home
she's...
she's...
not happy
"I am Alone and No One Understands My Pain" -- 2003 -- Two days after we moved to a new state.
Untitled
look
at your
eyes
dark empty
lost in myself
so deep no one can catch me
and that's when people get afraid
look
at your
eyes
surrounded by nothing
surrounded by...
lashes made thick
apparently I have
nice skin and nice eyes
"I started with my feet
and worked up"
--2003, before we moved.
Untitled
is it a crime?
one may wonder
to be out
on the front lawn
when it's about to rain?
and you know what you
should
be doing
is staying inside to help unpack
boxes
I ponder that question
when thinking of persons
that I left behind
physically
Can I gain anything
from sitting here remembering the
night we held each other
tight enough to make me
(and I hope you)
tremble?
I tremble now
in the rain and the cold
wanting to run back
to your fire
"It's cold outside and I have no raincoat," I stutter.
Will you let me in?
or, because you think I'm better off gone
(which I am, actually)
would you even remember me at all
even if I'd say --
"I'm the one who turned to you first
making a frantic phone call over Thanksgiving
--Help. I think I'm gay. What do I do?
taken aback by your surprise
but whatever your response
I chose you first
trusted you enough,
my friend
I listened to you.
to YOU.
Not some fake put-on-for-performance
made-up face
wallowing in whether that crowd finds you funny.
No.
I wanted something deeper.
--2003--"I am Alone and No One Understands My Pain" -- The correct words coming out of my mouth are as follows: She say it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat She's always worried about things like that. Thank you, Matchbox 20.
Untitled
the stars
with their fiery lights and passion,
play cascading melodies on
blacks and whites
scribbling on paper sticky with everything wrong
and for a minute there is freedom.
but lights are destined to go out,
and for every paradise gained there is a paradise Lost
with vast emptiness and longing.
the compass, stone or golden, will lead to the stars -- for
somewhere in that broken emptiness is light again -- stored
for the one who seeks it.
I just wish I didn't have to go alone.
"Obvious Metaphors" -- 2002 -- another Paradise Lost/His Dark Materials inspired poem. I remember being told to keep a journal and 'let it out', hence this poem.
By: Theadora
naked
pretty h
shoveled out the house
fringe of worms
stomach doubled up
what is a shoat?
sore
all played
stumping out the door
like the back of his hand
"pointless rambling poems" -- truly a WTF. a month later it was a wTF. 2003.
Untitled
they write about
finding pleasure through pain
after I cut
pink, open wounds
I went in the shower
and got down with myself
feeling the cuts burn
with the water
and the vibrations
Almost cried
I'm gone
you're home
she's...
she's...
not happy
"I am Alone and No One Understands My Pain" -- 2003 -- Two days after we moved to a new state.
Untitled
look
at your
eyes
dark empty
lost in myself
so deep no one can catch me
and that's when people get afraid
look
at your
eyes
surrounded by nothing
surrounded by...
lashes made thick
apparently I have
nice skin and nice eyes
"I started with my feet
and worked up"
--2003, before we moved.
Untitled
is it a crime?
one may wonder
to be out
on the front lawn
when it's about to rain?
and you know what you
should
be doing
is staying inside to help unpack
boxes
I ponder that question
when thinking of persons
that I left behind
physically
Can I gain anything
from sitting here remembering the
night we held each other
tight enough to make me
(and I hope you)
tremble?
I tremble now
in the rain and the cold
wanting to run back
to your fire
"It's cold outside and I have no raincoat," I stutter.
Will you let me in?
or, because you think I'm better off gone
(which I am, actually)
would you even remember me at all
even if I'd say --
"I'm the one who turned to you first
making a frantic phone call over Thanksgiving
--Help. I think I'm gay. What do I do?
taken aback by your surprise
but whatever your response
I chose you first
trusted you enough,
my friend
I listened to you.
to YOU.
Not some fake put-on-for-performance
made-up face
wallowing in whether that crowd finds you funny.
No.
I wanted something deeper.
--2003--"I am Alone and No One Understands My Pain" -- The correct words coming out of my mouth are as follows: She say it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat She's always worried about things like that. Thank you, Matchbox 20.
Untitled
the stars
with their fiery lights and passion,
play cascading melodies on
blacks and whites
scribbling on paper sticky with everything wrong
and for a minute there is freedom.
but lights are destined to go out,
and for every paradise gained there is a paradise Lost
with vast emptiness and longing.
the compass, stone or golden, will lead to the stars -- for
somewhere in that broken emptiness is light again -- stored
for the one who seeks it.
I just wish I didn't have to go alone.
"Obvious Metaphors" -- 2002 -- another Paradise Lost/His Dark Materials inspired poem. I remember being told to keep a journal and 'let it out', hence this poem.
By: Theadora
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