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the challenge

so my friend steve has issued a challenge to his fellow poets: “bring a new poem to perform at the next slam”

this is going to be tricky because, as we have learned, new stuff doesn’t always do well in slams but i am still going for it because that is the whole reason i started coming to 13. the challenge of writing poetry that connects is the true draw of the stage and what keeps me coming back for more.

any one could write some ultra elusive poem that revolves around the mysteries of the universe but if no one understands it… then what’s the point? any good and true poetry that has survived the test of time is because it strikes a universal chord. when i first started writing it was all booty poems, all the time. specifically geared to one girl and it was working on all cylinders. we would have some good sex and i’d write about it. we’d have a fight and i’d write about it. some good lines came through and it got me into actually writing a bunch of stuff i was only contemplating but ultimately it wasn’t very good because i wasn’t writing it for myself, it was all to keep this lil flame going and it wasn’t that big a flame to begin with and booty poems turned into heartbreak poems and that shit got old quick. i needed a new outlet for what i was starting to enjoy doing (add another very important factor that we won’t address at this second) and i end up at 13.

this girl’s story was actually the impetus of the first poem i ever dropped at 13 (which did remarkably well, considering the low monotone voice i was sporting at the time) and she deserves some credit for my poetic career. not that much tough, remember– she DID break my heart for a second but a lil heartache in exchange for a poetic vocation that allows me to help people and promote art. not a bad trade off.

so, the challenge: ‘canto’ was a poem that was on the backshelf for a minute and has now blossomed into a wonderful performance piece and a great leap into my being more personal in my poems. there are a couple of ideas i have on the back burner including a poem that i have wanted to write for a bit about some baby.mama.drama that ended in a heartfelt good-bye to a 2 yeard old i would have been happy to call my own. that and eric, my main.bro, has given me the inspiration to what could be a beautiful bronx poem that will leave some quasi.political.poems in the dust. i hope.

ima write a new piece and will have it memorized in time for the next slam but will i actually have the cojones to pull it off. hhmmm?

i’m not committing yet. especially after i joked with steve that if he draws last in the round i am half-expecting him to start with “before the lean in…” (a tried.true and absolutely wonderful poem that steve has mastered)

steve’s response was the raise of an eyebrow and a quick smile that looked like the love child of an infomercial model and bill.clinton.circa.97

hasta siempre

Acentos

i just stopped writing what would have been the longest entry ever in this journal. it entails the whole start of Acentos and maybe i’ll drop it one day but not today! Acentos has debuted and i am exhausted, ecstatic, fulfilled, sad, hopeful and drained all at the same time.

we started late a.k.a poet time and had a FULL open mic as i have yet to learn to say no to people. as per design, fish kicked off the open mic with ‘Soy del Bronx’ and it was all good from there. voodoo lulu came up from manhattan and helped bring the woman energy and gave me good hope that we will attract a good multi-borough crowd.

ray medina, roger bonair-agard, henry valentin, chance, lily and future feature ed garcia blessed the open mic and then came the feature.

wanna hear something funny? i’ve never heard guy feature. came close for his going away party last year but had to miss that… irrelevant story. hearing him read last night crystallized a few things,

1. guy is the type of reader i’ve always tried to be. calm, steady, confident of his words, low on theatrics, high on images.

2. as latinos, we need to foster a home for our voices. guy is THE quintessential nuyorican, a mix of ethnic and cultural backgrounds on the canvas of the city, and that voice needs to come out. we have to stop thinking of who we are expected to be and just define our own roles in this city and country

3. Acentos is going to be the spearhead for bronx culture. if we can’t get people to come one train station past manhattan and one block over… then the battle is going to be long and bloody. blue ox will bring quality readers into the bronx and the manhattanites will follow and then they will discover the pergones theater, the point, the bronx museum and then eventually lead them deeper into the bX

in the middle of guy’s set came the surprise of the evening– an Acentos journal with good wishes from the louderCREW and a jimmy santiago baca poem! man, my first instinct was to run up there and thank the whole world but as host i have to keep the spotlight on the feature and told guy to keep going. he wrapped up with ‘Breathless’ and had the crowd begging for more. as promised, his chapbook was ready and it seems like copies of ‘Selected Squares of Concrete’ were selling quite well.

another break and then we finished up the open mic with eric guerrieri, al b back, sabrina hayeem-ladani, hermen rodriguez, freddy feliciano, frog prince, loca, ruhama, victor delgado & pete the bartender.

man that is some funkin’ open mic and we ended up running till almost 11! and apologies to raul maldonado, who had to leave before i could put him on the open mic.

the night went great even though i let the open mic get to heavy and thus kept people up way too late combine this with the fact that we want some louder regulars means that we have to end the night before 10 at least. the bar owner looked happy and pleased with the turnout and the poetry. the post Acentos celebration was supposed to be a run down to beau sia’s whatever but instead became a brave few knocking back whiskey at a friends house and being jackasses.

i am still tired but in a very weird emotional way. oh yeah, i got to look through the journal that was presented to me. i cried like a kid and it was just a weird cry that comes out when all the walls are broken down and the realization hits that this world is so ugly but still needs saving or the fact that the world is ok but we are fucked up hits and there is nothing to do but surrender for a minute and then in that surrender realize that there is still a lot of fight left in you and the world and somebody gonna win one day… but today aint that day!

what broke me down was this entry:

Your change is smart/Your change is full/Do what u do say what you say and ride this poem bull/Your the best at what u do and your not alone/Be yourself and stick with your poems/Future Poet

that’s the complete note, misspellings, rhyme verse and all. it’s that ‘Future Poet’ signature that messed me up. somebody else dropped a ‘Future Poet’ note as well. now i can really see this series affecting and influencing voices yet to be heard.

then i read through the other words left in there and it all just hit me but you don’t get to read about those… ;-0

just got a call from dee and she’s asking me to help her name a club night she’s promoting. she might use the title of one my poems. i guess the whole world knows ima poet. i’m tired but there work to be done. latah…

headline news for last night

–another full open mic

–another packed slam

–did ‘ultimo canto’ with omri on guitar (feeling better all the time doin’ that piece)

–plugged Acentos

–saw guy’s new chapbook

–milked the thermal

–saw alexis o’hara rock the loop station

–a packed slam saw the judges separate 8 of the field of ten by a half of a point

–fish draws first and learns the wrath of score creep and the time penalty

–shappy grabs an early and clear lead

–mara starts the charge of female energy, goes off-mic (at my suggestion) and does well singing but loses some fo her poetic voice… but her natural body movements come out better

–ray rocks out and slips into fifth

–in the second round field of five, three poets are separated by three tenths of a point

–mara gets into the last round by (booming echoing voice on) a-tenth-of-a-point (voice off)

–e(g) returns on the 13 mic after being in europe for a month

–shappy takes home the gold and becomes the new voice for conservative geeks everywhere!

–somewhere between rounds two and three, i accept a shot of whiskey which goes straight to the dome

–head over to reservior bar and the love/hate begins as we start breaking down the night

–as i’m still buzzed, we ponder:

–john rambo helped the towers fall

–‘you think you survive this waltz, this polka, this line dance?’

–where did carrot top come from?

–‘you’re going to need body bags, lots of them’

–a toast to a new job

–i dont give a shit what you say, american beauty is a good flick

–‘what child of opie, what decendant of mr rogers, what offspring of eminem you lookin to fuck wit?’

–american taliban is THE look for next year, trust me

–go, flash, go!

–bruce springsteen sounds pretty good at 92 years old

–rock out with your cock out!

–queen soundtracks is the shizzee

–sensitive sweaters, never wrong when you need to make a point

–god didn’t make rambo, i made him!

–i don’t give a shit what you say, ben affleck is WAY better than matt damon

–‘… dont make me put this game boy down and emerge from this strip mall’

–drove ray, seve and guy to their respective cribs

and that be that

see you at ACENTOS! tonight mo fo’s!

poetry overload part two

(ok, so i stopped writing for a sec and then passed out. good, i needed the sleep. meanwhile, back at the ranch…)

32 young poets. can i say that i have always had a good time at these youth slams. explaining it to another poet later in the evening– ‘ya know, when they talk about the revolution and changing shit, they really mean it. they are not part of the system yet, they’re not bitchin’ about the government while waiting for a fat tax refund.’

only one of the 32 decided to drop an epic (4 minutes plus) and most were actually under two minutes. duv real musick, a young cat from the bronx place in the top five and i was mad happy for him as him and his boy will give me some real hope in that generation. they both support each other, their poetry and get better at each reading i see them.

ms sarah kay stepped to the mic and announced that she was new to all this and then kicked everybody’s ass! she was so fuckin’ good. me and fish are in unilateral agreement that she played the crowd to garner some early sympathy… and it worked lovely. ima start doing that when i read at new spots!

some of hip-hops over emphasis on wordplay made it on stage and scored well while conversely another hip-hopper stayed focus on his message and scored low. go figure.

a few suburban youths came up and rocked the house by not trying to act overly oppressed and held down. see, this is the cool part of the youth slam. while some of the kids are most definitely using some archetypes to work off of, none of them are copying. they are all building.

factor in the five cups of coffee(!) i had and i was more than blaring to head to ‘westside rhyme’ and spit on the mic.

my caffeine high would hit the low road as the event started late and i crashed out. the good news was that omri, the singer/guitarist i collabed with at synonymUS, was there and he agreed to reprise ‘el ultimo canto’ with me. this version really kicked some ass and i hope omri is at 13 tonight so that we can do it again.

fish kicked ‘headlines’ really hard… and we were spent.

i would have loved to stay as dianne roi, lindsay halladay, shawn and karan rockower were still do to go up but i was beat. as was fish and he was my ride so you know how that goes.

so tonight is 13 and tomorrow is acentos and i havent been really writing about acentos in that i dont want to jinx anything.

i am just hoping that all the work fish and i have done produces a good crowd and a tight open mic. guy has a new chapbook set to debut that night and i can only view that as a good omen.