Matt Harvey
In 1992 began performing poems and is now a veteran of the UK鈥檚 festival circuit.
He is President of MIND in Exeter and East Devon and helps organise its regional Off the Wall comedy festival. Since co-writing and co starring in two series of One Night Stanza in 2001/02 he has become a regular Radio 4 voice, contributing to programmes such as Off The Page, Word of Mouth and A Good Read. He writes songs too.
Matt has published five books; Here We Are Then, Songs Sung Sideways, Standing Up To Be Counted Out, Curtains and Other Material and most recently The Hole in the Sum of my Parts which contains a selection from the previous four books plus some new bits.
The Gush That Ushers
the gush that ushers in the ashes
falls to hush as Aussies crush us
Freddie fails to spare our blushes
what's become of English wishes?
down under a toilet flushes
time to reflect on the nature of time
there are two kinds of time, chronos and cairos
chronos time, the tick tock time, of chronology and facts
and cairos time, the inner time, which stretches and contracts
cairos alone tells how time can be both
the light-toed sprinter and the po-faced sloth
cairos alone tells how time can contrive
to dawdle during Late Review, but speed through Saturday Live
Poem made from off-cuts and recycled popular hits, hand-stitched (seamlessly) together...
to see a hot tub in a council skip
and heaven in a bald tyre
behold infinity in your local tip
and eternity in some frayed electrical wire...
it seems one man's chimney pot's another man's top hat
one man's bauble is another man's jewel
one man's cheapskate's another man's skip-rat
one man's chip fat's another man's fuel
one man's cheek is another man's chutzpah
one man's puddle is another man's footspa
broken umbrellas, malfunctioning kettles
empty containers of various metals
that never quite did what it said on their tins
these are a few of my favourite things...
and one man's tip is another man's temple
one man's junk is another man's joy
one man's meat is another man's penpal
one man's man is another girl's boy
one man's popgun鈥檚 another man's uzi
one man's grit is another man's muesli
leftovers, hand-me-downs, chuckaways, off-cuts
used, pre-loved, second-hand, rejects and cast-offs
all the fresh junk that this rampantly unsustainable consumer society brings
these are yet more of my favourite things
when the cold bites, when my skip leaks, when I've lost my zest
I simply dismember my favourite things - and then I don't feel so stressed
Tick Tock
the end of the show, the end of the year (tick tock, tick tock)
are both drawing ever so ever so near (tick tock, tick tock)
but is there still time? (tick)
yes there's still time (tock)
Time to recycle, reclaim, to train lions both outer and inner (tock, tick tock)
to magically think ourselves gorgeously dangerously thinner (tock, tick tock)
time to reveal how we feel about Tammy Wynette then to linger (tock, tick tock)
and suggestively suck some cr猫me fr锚che from the tip of our finger (tock, tick tock)
(time) to wake from a comatose state, time to heal, to reflect (tock, tick tock)
on the limits of time and the danger should clocks go unchecked (tock, tick tock
tick tock, tick ..., tick ...)
hang on a sec, what鈥檚 up, oh heck
stop clock, step back, take stock, clock check:
my tick's tip top, my tock is not
slick tick, slack tock, top tick, sick tock
my tock is sick with tocksick shock
it was ticketty boo, now it's blocketty blocked
mama take this watch off of me
I can't wear it any more
its liquid crystal display's too dark to see
feels like it's tocking on heaven's door
tock tock tocking on heaven's door
tock tock tocking on heaven's door (etc)
Hi Matt
Loved your poems on Fi's show today, particularly the witty one along the lines of 'My favourite things'. Any chance of a copy? Would love to read it to the Brighton Poetry Society monthly meeting (unless you would prefer to be there on the last Monday in January to read it for us yourself?) which I attend regularly. Will save up for a copy of your latest book - it looks great.
Complain about this postRegards
Peter Howes
Hove