The Java Coffee house was pleasantly packed tonight. It was exciting walking up to the doorway and seeing the crowd gathered outside and so many of the tables full inside. I was especially glad to see a number of the members Baltimore Slam team there.
My friends, Agata and Sabina, had come with me, and Agata and I had both prepared pieces. I was excited; this was my first time that I’d be reading at an Open Mic. We were the first to sign up, and, following Ryan Mergen’s introduction, Agata would open the evening. Ryan performed from memory a piece about a romantic relationship gone sour that brilliantly punned off of the names of dozens of car makes and dozens more car terms.
Agata recited Jeff Moss’ poem “How Are You?” from The Butterfly Jar. She'd been practicing he whole car ride over, and, though she stumbled a little, she carried herself very well. Next, she read a poem in polish about the rain. She’d selected this piece because of it’s rhythmic qualities, as well as the fact that the Polish word for rain (something that sounds like – “jim-jaf-ka”) and the poem itself were highly reminiscent of jibber jabber.
Twain Dooley, one of the qualifying members of the Baltimore Slam Team, performed next. He recited the first poem from memory. In this piece, he played off of the idea of safe sex to ultimately conclude with a message of lasting love, asking the audience to “remember when safe sex meant a padded headboard” at the beginning, and then asking them to consider safe sex as meaning taking your heart medicine at the end. His next piece described a man who was conscripted and then called into service. This dramatic monologue was highly narrative and drawn from “Revenge of a Cat Headed Baby,” a play in which Twain will be featuring at D.C’s fringe festival.
I was the next performer. The first poem I recited from memory. It was a piece written by my great-grandfather and passed to me through my mother by word of mouth. The next was a poem I’d written, inspired by the great social equalizer in
Kyle Eichmann, the newest member of the Baltimore Slam Team, performed next. His first poem was a very powerful piece about his mother. He opened with a line of jibberish that he repeated three times, breaking it into its components the third time. He continued that to express how his mother taught him a great deal of the best kinds of parental, loving nonsense, such as the fact that “the monsters under my bed are only there to scare away bad dreams”.
I had heard Kyle’s next piece, “Tatoo”, at the Slam on Sunday. Part of the nature of performance poetry is that it is so transient, and I loved this rare opportunity to hear this piece a second time. As I’d found with 2 Deep’s “Two Hit Rule” poem, I was able to bring a great deal more out of it the second time. This poem went through a young man’s description of the pain behind each of his tattoos, the powerful emotions that caused him to permanently mark them on his body. He tattoos in memory of his mother, friends, and his daughter and her mother. He had wings on his shoulders, because “even concrete angles need to be reminded they can fly”, and musicians on his chest to drown out the sounds of an abusive father. He had hate and love on either breast, and, finally, he had a tear by the corner of his eye. This was not a gang symbol, but a mark of the pain. “If it were acceptable for young men to cry,” he would not have to hurt himself so to express his pain. I especially enjoyed this poem in context of the Bruce article on using poetry in order to help young people, especially men, express themselves verbally so that they can deal with their emotional difficulties constructively rather than violently.
Matt, a hated, side-burned, beatnik, and open-mic virgin read next. A first time reader, he was shaking as he read the first piece from his notebook. The second, he’d memorized. I suspect that he’ll be reading again.
Ryan Mergen then introduced Chris Wilson, the featured poet and another member of the Baltimore Slam Team. The “Johnny Appleseed of
A number of the Baltimore Slammers are teachers, and I enjoyed considering their work in the context of teaching, especially in light of the Kammer essay on teaching poetry.
Chris next read the first in a series of haikus on why he hate’s Justin Timberlake (and Macey’s #6). I personally loved these!
“I bring sexy back
Without the receipt return
Home still with sexy”
Chris’ next piece was a poem about his own mother. He referred to Kyle’s piece before beginning. In this poem, he addressed the mother’s paranoia regarding the possible death of her son, who was born a 2lb preemie. Chris even teared up a little during the presentation. He read this poem from the pages, but was clearly very familiar with it and maintained good eye contact with the audience and gestured actively. He ended by stating that he’s already made sure that, when he dies, his dear mother will be the last to know.
Chris' next haiku was better than the first!
“I bring sexy back
With a gift slip. Now someone
Wears my used sexy”
Chris’ next piece was an entirely new poem (and he cautioned the audience about introducing a new poem, saying that he advises putting it in the middle, so that it can be sandwiched by stronger works). Chris had just written this piece this afternoon, and it explored how a friend had applied for a government job. The government screens based on moral caliber, alcohol use, and drug use. However, it claims to be looking for innovative, creative individuals. Chris noted that the irony of this was that the government was excluding a whole realm of potential; he’s never seen such a work ethic that can turn a “chandelier into a smoking apparatus”. He joked about the presence of Clinton and Bush in politics, given the government’s standards, and pointed out that the government would either be excluding or making liars of those who’ve ever smoked pot. “But maybe that’s what it takes to get a government job”. I enjoyed this piece for it’s humor.
The next two poems dealt with love, the first about a rough break-up and the second a call for tolerance and acceptance towards homosexual couples that was inspired (and prefaced with) the story of Roy and Silo, a pair of male penguins at the NYC Zoo who had fallen in love. The background story was based on And Tango Makes Three, the number one banned book in
Chris’s final Haiku:
“I bring sexy back
To the owner on collar
His name is not mine”
The last piece was another I’d heard performed in the Slam, a piece about a man who loves pregnant women and a call for acceptance of all harmless fetishes/romantic habits.
A few points to note about this performance in particular include the following:
- Most of the poets gave a preface, except for the slam team members, who were introduced by Ryan.
- It was also interesting to note how familiar the slam team was with each other’s repertoire. For instance, Kyle went to sit down after his first piece, but the others made him go up, and he had them tell him which to perform. He didn’t even have to consider, he just went.
- Finally, it’s interesting to consider Slam poems when taken out of context. These poems tend to be much more engaging than traditionally presented poems, but that may also be in part due to the fact that they are performed. They also tended to be more emotionally powerful, either funnier or very serious about a given issue.
I really hope Jibber Jabber thrives! It is amazing to have a literary venue right here in
No comments:
Post a Comment