First Entry
This is my first entry.
Yesterday I volunteered at the National Poetry Slam. I worked the merchandise table, but didn’t actually sell much, so I didn’t have to do much. The real reason I was there, of course, was to watch poetry slams. I love the fact that Austin got to host Nationals two times in a row. It just goes to show how artistic and relevant Austin is. The more I discover about Austin, the more I experience what this city has to offer, the harder it becomes to imagine my future elsewhere. The poetry slam community here definitely makes me want to stay after college.
Of the two bouts I saw, the second, late bout was my favorite. Perhaps it was because the crowds had thinned out, or because I had a chance to watch the poets rather than just listen to them, but this bout was probably the best bout I had ever seen. All five teams (Killeen, Denver, Omaha, New York, Delray Beach) were good and could have won any other bout, had they been in them.
Killeen was the surprising winner. Not only was this the city’s first slam team, but Killeen has almost no slam community, as far as I know. The first slam that the team performed stands as the best group slam I have ever seen. It featured a daughter calling her mother asking for advice on whether to leave an abusive, but financially supportive, husband. What made this slam different from the typical (I could say cliched) slam about abusive husbands and fathers were the two maternal voices. Two poets played the mother. When the two maternal voices were speaking the same thing, one of the poets would hide behind the other, visually leaving one mother on stage. But when the voices diverged, the poets would stand on opposite sides of the stage. One maternal voice urged patience, begging her daughter to stay. The other maternal voice expressed anger and demanded her daughter to leave. The contrast was made more powerful by how the words of one maternal voice would lead into the other. By this I mean that the last few words of one maternal voice would be the first few words of the opposite maternal voice. The split yet similar maternal voices were particularly powerful in displaying the daughter’s confusion. Fittingly, this poem received the highest score of the night.
Every time I watch poetry slams, I get the urge to write. The rawness of poetry slam is inspirational. At the same time, though, poetry slams always make me more aware of the narrow-mindedness of liberals. Too often, poetry slams over-exaggerate suffering, focussing so much on pedophilia, abusive relationships, and hate crimes that it almost becomes absurd. While complaining about the world’s problems, poetry slams always oversimplify the issues by demanding instant, easy solutions. Sure, it is okay to vent, to express frustration, but one also has to realize that if answers really came so easily, the world wouldn’t be stuck with the problems it currently faces. As a liberal, I can sympathize, but as a realist, I cannot bear the extreme black-and-white picture that poetry slam paints. Perhaps because of this I enjoy the satirical, funny poems so much more.
Tonight, I will volunteer again. Though I don’t expect to see poetry on the level of the previous night, poetry slam any night beats a movie or a concert.
