Stone Soup Servings is a series for Oddball Magazine that features upcoming performers at Stone Soup Poetry, the long-running spoken word venue in the Boston area that has partnered with Oddball Magazine. Stone Soup Poetry now meets from 7-9 p.m. every Monday at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery at 541 Massachusetts Avenue in Central Square Cambridge, Massachusetts. The open mike sign-up at 6:30 p.m.

This Monday, February 27, we welcome the poet Skoot, who is fresh off an number of slams, including a win from the Lizard Lounge’s recent 20th anniversary celebration. Read a small sample of his work below, and join us this Monday.


Note to death

Every Poet leaves behind their soul in notebook.
I call mines a Death Note.
Chasing a dream to change the world,
My words can attack the hearts sometimes.
Your chest is my chess game.
Using my artistry as your artery,
As I preform effortlessly while you watch me behind screens
While you try to investigate and navigate through my words
I call you “chips.”
While I eat all the energy like apples in the room.
I see the this worlds core rotting it
Feels like it costs me half my life just bare witness.
Every time I write in my death note I feel like there’s a god behind me
He’s black, sarcastic and on nobodies side.
(Anime) and it may feel like I’m changing
Fighting for justice
Using my pen to create your heart attack
I’ll be honest I love killing these poems in different ways
I have to test my skills.
Because then my people who investigate an navigate through my words don’t figure me out
So many people live in my mind
All different styles of stories
So even though the logical reason is near
Crazy is closer…..
I need to mellow out
I tell these stories from the people inside me,
While building the following to keep me going.
In 30 seconds I will face that my problem is I can’t ask the god behind me
If it’s hard to take L’s with light by your side?
Because it seems like you’re best friends
you are both childish
Both of you hate to lose what you dear most
I guess that would be what your sense of purpose to this world
I wonder if you guys play simple games like tennis
Somehow I feel like you two would make it complicated
Like you’d use it as part of way to never really show your true faces to one another
But still using every swing to meet each other’s exceptions
While wondering what a win would mean for the other
Still I wonder why I was given this power.
The right to write in this death note
Maybe it really is my job to create a new world
While using my pen.
To cause vision
Of this this worlds peace and love
Through a heart attack