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“No man’s an island and his castle isn’t home”

Quick Monday recap from 13: the crowd was disappointingly small in comparison to last week’s Perdomo-palooza. The Open Mic was tight and remains a bright spot. I enjoy John S. Hall but was (ironically enough) detained in the hall while he was on-stage. My opinion was not shared with everyone as some walked out on his set– “I tried but that was too much for me,” was a comment I heard.

I slammed and came in dead last which proves once and for all that I am an atrocious page reader and should only slam with memorized stuff at this stage of the game. That’s about it for 13.

Reservoir was small but great fun as we bounced from topic to topic and finished the night out with one of those “Fight Club” caveats.

On to other things… some time in the middle of summer I get a random e-mail asking if I can talk to some kids about my work for a folk culture project. Fish did the gig with me which went great (except that afterwards I got into a silly argument with Fish that left me feeling like an ass for a good long time) and I got to asking the program director if the project has a poetry instructor. One thing leads to another and my resumes now carries the title “Creative Writing Instructor” as I meet with high school kids twice a week after school.

The first class went smooth but that was more of a meet-and-greet and I wasn’t really doing my thing. The second class was a disaster for me as the kids were not feelin’ me. I tried to get them to view poetry as personal historical statement, to tie in with the mission of the program, and was left on a lurch. The kids were all over the place and questioned everything I did and everything I asked them to do. Rog told me early on that there would be classes like this and you can not get discouraged at the bumps in the road. Like most advice, it was a lot easier to hear it than to actually go through it.

This week was much better, though. We went over Ishamael Reed’s

Jacket Notes and my first group blew my whole mind when we deconstructed the poem. My second group was not as focused and their thoughts weren’t as mind bending as the previous one’s but they were still on the ball. Both classes were a lil resistant at first but got into the flow really well by the end. Later in the week, I flipped it by going over performance with them and earned their respect by doing “Mercy…” for them. The kids flipped when they saw it printed out and probably thought we were gonna do some short fiction work… that poem is long on paper, yes it is.

Now I have their ears and have their minds working but I still need to get their hands in motion but it’s small battles that win the war and I am doing well, for now.

“Like walking around with little wings on my shoes”

Friday at the Nuyo was some kinda experience. Celebrating who we are, “A crazy bunch of poetry fanatics seeking any acolytes we can find to help convert any other non-believers we encounter long the way,” by bringing Lovella, a poetry loca we met at NPS this year to the home that Pinero built.

Semi-Finals means that you need to give the Nuyo $12 fuckin’ dollars to get in the door. Lovella and Rich were by the front so at least I didn’t have to wait long to get in. Here is something for the “What the F?” file– this is the fourth time in less than a year that the feature has not made it to the venue in time. Acentos had this happen only once and even that was under some crazy circumstances that I was fully aware of and was a chance that I was willing to take. This has never happened at 13 or synonymUS, so why do performers dismiss the Nuyo like that?

Rich looked over at me in that, “It could be your night, son,” kinda way but with Vanessa Hidary and Jive Poetic already in the house– I knew that I was third choice, at best. Vanessa and Jive have proven themselves crowd favorites at the Nuyo and if I was going to have to make a last minute switch, I would go with the safest choice possible. Of course, that statement only matters if the crowd actually cares who the feature *is*.

As Jive gets the nod from Karen to grab the spotlight, I also see Karen grab Rich to the side so I give Rich that, “It could be your night, son,” look because (again, not for the first time) one of the scheduled slammers didn’t show… to a semi-final(?!) bout. Not sayin’… just sayin’.

Here is your line-up Rich Villar, Desiree Marshall, Lamb and the Marxman. When it all was said and done, it came down to a slam-off between Dez and Lamb. Lamb won the coin toss and went second. Both of them kept hyping the crowd with their words, as they had been the whole night and went the last score went up, it came down like this–

Dez– 29.8 and Lamb– 29.9

(Don Pardo voice: ON) A tenth of a point is all it takes. (Pardo: OFF) Dez is such a warm soul and her improvement from last year is phenomenal, I suspect that she will be on a National team by nest year. This is the first opportunity to hear Lamb go at it in full *slam* mode– his sincerity shows on stage and he fills the great white hope slot to a tee.

Rich got some great experience when it comes to having your back against the wall and your poetry is the only way to fight out. Semis are rough, losing a slam is rough, and losing to folks you like never makes it easier but it does make it easy to stand up and clap for them when the night is over.

So here is where the crisis of faith jumped back in– I am standing in the middle of the whole Slam phenomenon hearing everyone ‘Oooo’ and ‘Aaaah’ at all the right phrases and my mind says:

“What’s wrong with people just having a good time?

So what they don’t understand half of what they hear?

Isn’t it perfectly cool for them to leave feelin’ happy with themselves?”

Especially when this one girl practically leaps at someone yelling “down with Bush!”

The next day my conversation with an art teacher at Mind-Builders goes like this:

“Reggie, is it cool for art just to be art?”

‘Huh?’

“What I mean is– if the art moves the crowd then it’s doing what it’s supposed to be doing, right?”

‘Nah brah, art is supposed to move forward not stay in place. If it was up to the audience, they would have vanilla for the rest of their life before they ever tried Cherry Garcia then they try Cherry Garcia and that’s all they want… till the next thing hits. The question is– Where’s the next thing coming from?’

One of the lucky turns my life has taken is working in this building with instructors that have played all over the world but still want to teach in the Bronx and give back. That’s dedication to the art and real interchange with the biggest audience you could possibly ever have.

After that lil’ talk it was full steam ahead as a couple of artistic questions made their way to the surface at Maria’s party and I have a choice:

Stay shut and stifle my own process as the only way I have ever learned anything is by questioning everything

OR

Jump in, diving head first, and work out my own thoughts through interchange with others.

It’s not always easy to see a four and a half star movie and comment on the obvoius plot hole, or to hear your favorite singer half-ass their way through a follow up album, or to see a dancer bore a crowd for 15 minutes and say ‘What the fuck where they thinking?’ when (despite what you think the poem says) I can’t dance a lick, it hurts to see someone thinking that are changing the world by regurgitating the Op-Ed section of the Post(!) on stage but I don’t think that my being a poet is what gives me the right to these judgments… I believe it’s my being an audience member that gives me EVERY right to question anything that fills a moment of my attention.

“Scatterlings and orphanages”

some new blogs i think y’all should be checkin’ out.

::nuyo nina is my home girl nina who can claim her place in acentos history by being the person who introdcued me to rich villar. if i say anything more, i may embarass her but keep an ear out for this poeta/abogada at an open mic near you

::mc siegel is not actually a ‘mic controller’ in the traditional sense but has made a solid impact on the 13 open mic the last few months. double love for makin’ the trip out to the blue ox. matt is always challenging himself and some of the talks i have had with him the last few weeks have made me laugh out loud and re-examine my politics.

:: galactus is not an actual acuaintance and, truth to tell, the blog has not been updated since his last visit to our sector of the milky way. still makes me laugh though.

:: the bambinos curse is why i have been one smilin’ bastard all day. lets face it– something supernatural had to have controlled grady little’s dome when he kept pedro martinez in for that long. just discovered this bad boy which is poised to get more interesting as the series continues. o.b.prognosticatin’… yanks in six.

“I hope you learn it note for note”

before acentos last night, i had my first creative writing class with

mind-builder’s positive youth troupe. it was more of a ‘let’s get to know each other session’ but it went well and i contributed some good ideas… so, we’re starting on the good foot.

unfortunately, the class went long and i had to call up fish to take over the hosting for me. i did luck out when i was able to acquire a car ride down to the blue ox and only missed a bit of the open mic. fish was in full host mode and handling things lovely which let me hide out in the back and make small talk with matt siegel, guy, ed garcia, and juan diaz.

ray asked if i would do “mercy…” with the music

o: ‘yell, ray i am really tryin’ to shy away from the piece and…’

r: “for my mom”

o: ‘ok’

the open mic got all synonymUS with ray lending musical support to holmes mchenry, rich, raul maldonado, and (in her final new yoek appearance till she gets back from the left coast) marty mcconnell. the open is also (emeril voice- on) bringing it up a notch (emeril voice- off) with jessica torres letting her voice bring out the contours of her written images and juan diaz making me feel like all this work is gonnz produce real special voices.

if i was still the same mofo i was a few months back, i would have been all over fish as to who is next on the mic and how the close is going to go… but i was so happy with the night i was ready to let it all happen as organically as possible. so when ray gets ready to feature i’m thinkin’ “if i hadnt shown up late i would be giving ray the best intro fuckin possible.” and thats when fish announces “i’m goona bring somebody up that can do this intro justice… oscar…” serendipity is a beautiful thing.

part of my intro had me bringing up the fact that ray is THE seminal Acentos feature…

-latino

-bronx born & bred

-excellent writer

-fantastic performer

-cutting edge in his work

-herald of a new movement

… so why hasnt he featured before? cuz it was TOO perfect to the point of cliche.

quote eric guerrieri– “what’s poetry without a few cliches?”

well said, eric. ray kicked it something fierce with the mutli-talented diva, abena koomson, bringin’ the trombone and vocals. all you got to know about ray is that he started off his set with a sonnet. say word!

add a dash of musical collabs, and a group piece and here is the recipe for an amazing Acentos feature and what will sure to be an incredible evening come the 25th at lehamn college with the Word! festival.

the waters are still smooth with the wind still firm at our backs…