Last night was a very lovely evening. Words & Whippets has been running since
2013, born from Yorkshire season but has continued to be York Theatre Royal’s
annual advertisement for spoken word and poetry. As programmer, I’ve been very proud to bring ace
acts from across Yorkshire (and beyond) to the theatre and hugely delighted by
super audiences.
One conversation that came out of last night’s post-show
drinking session was about the need for a few decent comedy poems. The headliner, the sublime Kate Fox, has a
whole back catalogue of funny stand-up poems.
Kate, as she chats about in the Say Owt podcast (plug
plug plug) is very proud to celebrate the stand-up tag. Also performing was Andy Bennett, a master at
rhyme, meter and using those to great comedy effect to lampoon Lord Byron,
internet trolls and boozy behaviour.
Both Kate and Andy got the audience roaring with laughter.
A few Yorkshire Ales down in conversation with poet &
play-wright Hannah Davies, we compared out sets to this stand-up ability. The very useful tool to pull out a very funny
poem. Though no joke is ever guaranteed to
land, sometimes you can be sure a funny poem will leave the audience smiling.
“But Henry!” I hear you cry: “You’re a political person and a political
poet! You shouldn’t have to make people
laugh just to appease and amuse them!”
Well you’re right gentle reader, I think it’s perfectly
reasonable for a poet to do an entire set without going for a single
laugh. And many do, and that’s about how
you want to engage with an audience. Some poets we’ve had at Say Owt events
write very moving, fierce or personal poetry but actually it’s their chatter
between pieces that has the humour.
But I know for a fact I’ve been in situations at certain
nights, usually buzzing with energy, where I think a good few laughs would
dissolve some tension, shift the atmosphere or lead nicely into the next poet
whose work is less intense.
I think I use humour in most of my poems, so I’m not
really talking about employing comedy. I
more mean a very specific, well-crafted, well-rehearsed poem that’s definitely going
to get smiles if you pull it out of the well-worn poetry bag. A useful tool in the ongoing struggle to make
a room entertained.
So how do you go about writing a ‘funny poem’? I do remember, many years back, being annoyed
about the fact I did not have more gag poems up my sleeve, because, I felt, I’m
a funny guy! I tried to put the energy
into the spontaneous audience participation I rely on. I think I have a list of ‘issues’ I want to
face, for example I know I always want to address nationalism, sexism. I know I want to write about home or
friendship. This is perhaps the punk in
me, where most punk bands tick the boxes to earn punk points.
I don’t feel I really have this with a funny poem, no
funny topic in the corner of my brain waiting to see the light. But a great book I read was Off The Mic
for stand-ups, with the advice always keeps your eyes peeled at the world. Certainly poets do this, but I think I focus
on the serious topics of the world. That
needs addressing. That needs challenging.
For me, if I find a funny idea I immediately run with it. Pretend You’re A Dinosaur came from when me
and some mates pretended to be dinosaurs at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park. I’m Sorry I Missed Your Gig came from a
wicked zine by Emma
Thacker. These are poems I know
have some comedy currency.
Having said that, Pretend You’re a Dinosaur became about
being tough in the face of anxiety, and I’m Sorry I Missed Your Gig about
improving the gig-going experience so I suppose I always find some substance in
the sentences.
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