Harry Baker

Harry Baker was the youngest ever World Poetry Slam Champion. His work has been showcased on TED.com and seen by millions online, as well as translated into twenty different languages. He has performed his poetry all over the world from schools to opera houses, and after publishing his debut collection, The Sunshine Kid, in 2014 with Burning Eye he is working on a second collection.

Photo: Ali Johnstone


Poetry Café: Harry Baker »

Surreal humour with a lunchtime snack

Fri 8 March | 13:00 - 13:50 | £6.75/£5.50 | The Byre Theatre, Abbey Street, Studio Theatre


Some Days

Some days
there exists a lightness.
When the brilliance
of everything around you
becomes heightened.
When there is more to life
than indulging your quarter-life crisis,
and you owe it to yourself
to try and put this down
in writing.

I promise
I will never stop trying.
Even when it’s hard to -
I find the prospect far too exciting.
We forget the bar we set
has a capacity for rising
Where it is left is just the version
we have given up revising.

So this is
Current draft.
The water’s running warm
so pass the bubble bath.
When the going gets tough -
it’s tough to get going
a dialogue that stuff is hard,
but if we come together
there’s a chance
we might not come apart.

Whether or not it’s growing
on the other half,
the grass is always greener
when you love the grass.
Remind myself
when faced with darker days
that there are some that aren’t -
it might not feel like much
but then again it rarely does
when it is just the start.

I’ve never met a second step
as terrifying as the first one.
I’ve never met another person
there wasn’t a chance to learn from.
The more that we
spend time with the uncertain,
the more we can apply
when we revise our current version.

There is a point when
unknown becomes home
and throws you unaware,
when you’ve been
near the table long enough
to now pull up a chair,
when the place
you knew as new
asks you if you
have cut your hair,
you feel the corners
of your mouth - and heart -
and notice something’s there.

Some days
there exists a lightness.
When it becomes all but impossible
to stop the world from glowing.
There are still shadows in-between
as we wish ‘some days’ into ‘most days’
but on those days
I will read myself this poem.


Harry Baker