We Threw A Poetry Slam, and Everybody Came: Reflections on a Hell of A National Poetry Month
There were around 100 people in the library to see MegaSlam 2014: The Battle For The Worcester on Tuesday. It was kind of breathtaking, seeing so many people crowd into that room: People of diverse ages and ethnic backgrounds, people who had never been to a poetry reading before, people who used to attend readings but whom we haven't seen much of lately. It was truly stunning, and humbling.
The idea was simple: Invite as many poetry organizations in town to each send a representative to compete in a slam. Oh, and then tweak the rules as we go -- sometimes in collaboration with the poet or organization, sometimes not (but only if they were being handed a random advantage!) For instance, any poet or organizer who asked me, in our correspondence about the event, "Does this mean we have to have poems memorized?" got an automatic one-point advantage. There were three, including eventual winner Dmitry Berenson, competing for the Worcester Review. But man, did he earn that win, reading two stunningly gorgeous poems.
Second place went to Heather Macpherson, representing Ballard Street Poetry Journal, who killed it in both rounds, particularly her sestina for Kurt Cobain. Tony Brown represented Radius, and had what would have been the highest score of the night for his poem "Gepetto Town," if not for the six points in penalties he accrued: one point for having to represent a journal the host edits (yes, he knew that going in), and five more for time penalties. The fact that a few people were actually kind of surprised by the time penalties tells you how good it was.
Some people were playing by different rules. Lea, who was repping The Hangover Hour (and who is reading tonight for the Round Room Women's Poetry Salon!), had to read a poem by someone else, because that's what the Hangover Hour does. She read James Wright. Nick Davis broke the rules (with my foreknowledge, of course) by bringing along musical accompaniment for his "Dirty Old Town." I've heard that poem a million times, and I don't think I ever saw it get an audience misty eyed.
In the end, every single poem on that stage was good. Every one of them. Such an honor to belong to a community that can bring together such an eclectic array of poets for an evening like this ... including a couple previously unknown to me! (I really hope we see more of Amanda Borelli and Linda D'Agosto, who were the big surprises for me.)
National Poetry Month started off on a silly note for me, with the nonsensical #FantasyPoetrySlam game on April Fool's Day, wherein I somehow convinced a sizable group of writers to all write poems in the voices of a denizen of a fictional world, and then post videos for people to vote on. Utterly ridiculous, and fantastic.
I posted the winning videos back at the beginning of the month, but there were many, and some of them were really amazing poems ... especially under the circumstances. Three of my personal favorites were:
"Smeagol's Love Song," by Mariya Deykute:
"13 Ways Of Looking At My Nightmares," by Jenith Charpentier:
and "Fan Letter to H. P. Lovecraft, from Jorge Luis Borges," by Sam Cha:
Great stuff, all written with a minimum of notice. Astounding how talented some of these people are.
After that, I basically did three readings in two days: We had a small poetry salon reading/reception at our apartment for "The Incredible Sestina Anthology" editor Daniel Nester, where we finally made him read his own work. I've done numerous readings with Daniel lately, but because he's been pimping the anthology, I've not heard one word of his own writing, so I was glad to rectify that. Then, the next day, I read a set of T.S. Eliot's work for the aforementioned Hangover Hour, and was gratified to have a a full house, and even more gratified that the crowd stuck around for the sestina reading.
Between then and the library reading, I was pretty much hunkered down and working: Trying to make sure that show went up OK (obviously it did), and trying to keep up with my everyday life: Working on Radius, and some of the big developments we have coming there, trying to sell a novel, working on a singing competition TV show for WCCA (more on that soon!), working for The Telegram & Gazette and everything that entails: Writing, editing, listening to rock bands, talking to drag queens. You know ... normal, everyday stuff.
Oh, and I did all of this while quitting smoking. You want to know why I've been an antisocial basket case when I didn't have a task right in front of me? There's your answer.
So ... yeah. Winding down. Lea's at The Round Room tonight, I'm back pole dancing for the sestina anthology on May 3 at the Mass Poetry Festival, but otherwise, it's looking a little quieter on the horizon.
Maybe I'll do something relaxing.
Hell, maybe I'll write something ...
The idea was simple: Invite as many poetry organizations in town to each send a representative to compete in a slam. Oh, and then tweak the rules as we go -- sometimes in collaboration with the poet or organization, sometimes not (but only if they were being handed a random advantage!) For instance, any poet or organizer who asked me, in our correspondence about the event, "Does this mean we have to have poems memorized?" got an automatic one-point advantage. There were three, including eventual winner Dmitry Berenson, competing for the Worcester Review. But man, did he earn that win, reading two stunningly gorgeous poems.
Second place went to Heather Macpherson, representing Ballard Street Poetry Journal, who killed it in both rounds, particularly her sestina for Kurt Cobain. Tony Brown represented Radius, and had what would have been the highest score of the night for his poem "Gepetto Town," if not for the six points in penalties he accrued: one point for having to represent a journal the host edits (yes, he knew that going in), and five more for time penalties. The fact that a few people were actually kind of surprised by the time penalties tells you how good it was.
Some people were playing by different rules. Lea, who was repping The Hangover Hour (and who is reading tonight for the Round Room Women's Poetry Salon!), had to read a poem by someone else, because that's what the Hangover Hour does. She read James Wright. Nick Davis broke the rules (with my foreknowledge, of course) by bringing along musical accompaniment for his "Dirty Old Town." I've heard that poem a million times, and I don't think I ever saw it get an audience misty eyed.
In the end, every single poem on that stage was good. Every one of them. Such an honor to belong to a community that can bring together such an eclectic array of poets for an evening like this ... including a couple previously unknown to me! (I really hope we see more of Amanda Borelli and Linda D'Agosto, who were the big surprises for me.)
National Poetry Month started off on a silly note for me, with the nonsensical #FantasyPoetrySlam game on April Fool's Day, wherein I somehow convinced a sizable group of writers to all write poems in the voices of a denizen of a fictional world, and then post videos for people to vote on. Utterly ridiculous, and fantastic.
I posted the winning videos back at the beginning of the month, but there were many, and some of them were really amazing poems ... especially under the circumstances. Three of my personal favorites were:
"Smeagol's Love Song," by Mariya Deykute:
"13 Ways Of Looking At My Nightmares," by Jenith Charpentier:
and "Fan Letter to H. P. Lovecraft, from Jorge Luis Borges," by Sam Cha:
Great stuff, all written with a minimum of notice. Astounding how talented some of these people are.
After that, I basically did three readings in two days: We had a small poetry salon reading/reception at our apartment for "The Incredible Sestina Anthology" editor Daniel Nester, where we finally made him read his own work. I've done numerous readings with Daniel lately, but because he's been pimping the anthology, I've not heard one word of his own writing, so I was glad to rectify that. Then, the next day, I read a set of T.S. Eliot's work for the aforementioned Hangover Hour, and was gratified to have a a full house, and even more gratified that the crowd stuck around for the sestina reading.
Between then and the library reading, I was pretty much hunkered down and working: Trying to make sure that show went up OK (obviously it did), and trying to keep up with my everyday life: Working on Radius, and some of the big developments we have coming there, trying to sell a novel, working on a singing competition TV show for WCCA (more on that soon!), working for The Telegram & Gazette and everything that entails: Writing, editing, listening to rock bands, talking to drag queens. You know ... normal, everyday stuff.
Oh, and I did all of this while quitting smoking. You want to know why I've been an antisocial basket case when I didn't have a task right in front of me? There's your answer.
So ... yeah. Winding down. Lea's at The Round Room tonight, I'm back pole dancing for the sestina anthology on May 3 at the Mass Poetry Festival, but otherwise, it's looking a little quieter on the horizon.
Maybe I'll do something relaxing.
Hell, maybe I'll write something ...
No comments have been added yet.
