About The Repeat Beat Poet

Peter deGraft-Johnson is The Repeat Beat Poet, a London-based poet and emcee who fuses stream-of-consciousness writing and Hip Hop culture to capture and extend moments of time, thought, and feeling.
The Repeat Beat Poet has performed across the country and internationally, with appearances at The Royal Albert Hall, the Edinburgh Fringe, Spoken Word Paris, and he is a multiple slam champion (including the Genesis Slam and Hammer And Tongue) and the reigning Nozslam Champion. Peter also regularly produces & hosts the monthly spoken word nights Boomerang, and Pen-Ting, and his own Hip Hop & spoken word radio show, #TheRepeatBeatBroadcast. His debut poetry show D.O.W.N (Deconstructing Overarching Whiteness Now) will be performed in Winter 2018.
Peter is also a creative entrepreneur, journalist, and presenter; co-founding The PAD in 2014, a grassroots creative platform, arts venue and recording studio, and has written regularly for The Prince Charles Cinema with bylines in TimeOut London and The BFI. Peter continues his work in the film industry as an assistant director for the Chelmsford Film Festival, and can also be found co-hosting the British Podcast Award-nominated Lunar Poetry Podcast or presenting the poetry discussion series #LetsTalkAbout on UK Spoken Word YouTube channel, Process Productions.
“Poetry delivered with a preacher’s conviction and subtle eloquence of a master wordsmith” – Cypher League
“A phenomenal writer and enthralling performer” – John Cooper Clarke
“The Repeat Beat Poet has a maturity and complexity to his articulate and thought-provoking verse that takes his performance above the ordinary” – Sabotage Reviews

The Repeat Beat Poet

“A Black View”

I woke up to another set of terrorist threats
revealing some seriously questionable microaggressive mindsets,
Convinced me I might have to grab a bulletproof vest before taking my next test,
And to avoid challenging jokes,
(not even in jest)
And not to speak too loud,
it’s dangerous to protest,
Just be happily repressed and under constant duress,
It’s always best to express caution,

While the world outside is storming
While praying for a peaceful dawning,
While we’re baying for that one fine morning,
To the sky I found myself calling,

If I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, would it be my family that’s mourning?
Would it be my body in the casket laid,
and would it prove worthy of adoring?
If my blood was still gently pouring out,
As I was laying in the street,
dead meat splayed out,
And my mouth open wide like I’m yawning,

Would that image succeed in being flooring enough?
Would that portrait leave onlookers dumbstruck?
Would it serve as a black boy’s warning?
“I’m sorry, the system wasn’t built for you”
Send your complaints to whoever’s not ignoring.

And if the injustice is still gnawing away,
Bottle up your righteous rage for a rainy day,
You’ll need it when vulgarities come your way,
Through the trials and pain, you’ll feel what to say,

As these words are sealed neatly in a coffin,
And as the last light draws in,
I’ll think of the state of things,
Of biting winters and mirages of spring,
And of sins.

Copyright / Written by The Repeat Beat Poet

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