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Andrew Monk
New Zealand

spirits of the forest  Vanya Taule'alo
My poetic persona of Monk The Bard comes from writing and reciting poetry during eight years in the Medieval Re-enactment movement in New Zealand. I have been writing poetry since 1998s and in 2011 I started performing again via Open Mic Nights at the Ashhurst Inn. I have been published several times in my local newspapers and have self-published over 100 poems on my Facebook page

In 2012 my poetry has been shared with groups or readings in Auckland, Tauranga, Ashhurst, Palmerston North, Wellington and Christchurch. I have also started posting some of my poetry as audio clips on YouTube with photos from my Open Mic performances –
How Do You Begin A Social Revolution

How do you begin a social revolution

Why are there so many cracks in the system
When did numbers start to matter more than people

How did money go from a means to an end to not making ends meet
When did support change from a helping hand to a hand out

When did getting ahead stop being with the help of others
And change to getting ahead at the expense of others

How can we rise above a system that we are inherently part of
When did the colour of the world drain away to shades of grey

What will it take for the rest of the world to wake up
When will the rest of you see the chaos that is coming

When did the truth become subject to political propaganda
How do you find out what you should know

When those who do are working against you
What difference do our choices really make when

They are based on a system that has already failed us

Social Media Marketing

The time of word of mouth is dead
Now is time of the word of the web
Like any and all power this can be
A force for good or used evilly

Share and Like to join the hype
Spreading like viral social tripe
Forming an opinion is a waste
Just Like if you’re for or against

Watching the masses get sucked in
Drowning in propaganda spin
In the social media marketing game
Spreading virally is the way to fame

Your message will be clear and loud
If you can pull the biggest crowd
Motivated to make a difference
Against apathy and indifference

By the strength of our collective might
We can set the balance back to rights
Changing the world with just a few words
But what if they are never heard

Performance Poet

The Poet is a performer of the spoken art
That cuts to the quick or strikes at the heart

His words are like a show under a circus top
Words so magnificent it makes your jaw drop

They fly through the air with the greatest of ease
Just like the acrobats on a flying trapeze

He makes them dance, he makes them sing
He makes them fly like a bird on the wing

His words can conjure a magical scene
Or cast a mystery behind a smoke screen

So this is the tale of the Performance Poet
And this poem is over before you know it

Poets are a rare breed

Fewer and fewer people these days
Have anything truly original to say
But you see once upon a time
They could be bought for a dozen a dime

Spreading the word of what they've heard
No idle gossips and mum's the word
But now with spoon-fed mass media jargon
And no intuitive thought in the bargain

Modern day parrots are a poor parody
Of the brilliant poets that used to be
Those who saw to the heart of things
Whose speech echoed with words it brings

To mind the social commentary
Of those with a gift for oratory
And something worthwhile to say
That's so true, I never thought of it that way

For they see things differently
And share for all the world to see
Words that come straight from the heart
A brilliant piece of the wordsmith's art

So save the poets with you I plead
For now we are a rare breed indeed