A Gathering of Poets--National Poetry Slam
National Poetry Slam 2005 is winding down and gearing up at the same time. I am at the host hotel, relaxing after three gloriously grueling days. Half a block away, the individual poet semi-final bout has just finished up, yielding the five poets who will go on to compete as individuals on the finals stage tomorrow night. Below me in the hotel courtyard, one hundred poets or more are gathered in groups, "spitting their poems" to each other in turn while others sit around relaxing. Two blocks down Central Avenue, yet another gathering of poets is convened at the 24-hour open mic, while yet others are attending an after-party of sorts at one of the local clubs. This is an event that never sleeps.
Hotel management continues to be gracious and accommodating. Our only concessions?Agree to use the stairs as much as possible (with thanks from the aching elevators). Promise--not to take glass inside the pool area fence and not to drop cigarette butts in the courtyard. John, the hotel manager, is a close friend of the organizer and new to management in this hotel after its recent change of ownership. He tried to negotiate out of the NPS contract because he was new, then accepted the immense task of maintaining a semblance of order while his entire facility was overtaken by poets from all over the country. He is a poetry enthusiast and took on this daunting task despite his newness and hesitation and has not been sorry.
My sacrificial/calibration poem tonight at the Hispanic Cultural Center bout went well. The teams have thanked me multiple times for "calibrating the bout just right." We'd sweated out the wait for "open doors" together in a side auditorium while HCC management got ready for the big rush. A seven-hundred person theater? I'm not sure, but maybe six hundred seats at the least, and full to the chair. Man! Magnanimus kudos to the Albuquerque organizers for a job done well, even with the last minute switch to this venue!
And what a GREAT bout it was, with the home team, Albuquerque, coming in first place among the five teams in that venue, but not a SINGLE team performing poorly... and in case you're wondering, NO. It was not home team advantage. These kids absolutely cut air molecules in half with their words and their performance. They deserved it. How wonderful to have experienced this bout. They are a new breed coming in with fresh perspectives.
There have been many, many political poems this week, among my favorites: Team Hawaii's group presentation of a piece that warns indigenous peoples all over the world "the Americans are coming." It was heartfelt and passionate, openly discussing the effect of America's slow and total infringement upon the islands of Hawaii (...'til we've become a minority on our homeland...) and its similarity to the effect of modern civ on other parts of the world. They knew they had no chance of winning the bout at the third round and chose to repeat a poem they had done earlier in the week. No consequences, except disqualification, which doesn't matter if you won't win, anyway. I will never forget the performance, and I sincerely hope it was recorded by the cameramen present. I'm sure there are lots of Native Americans who would have stood and cheered.
I've done my several circuits for the night: Saying hello, hugging folks who've been genuine, thanking those who comment on my work, giving back and giving back, taking photos of the folks I will forever consider friends, and genuinely drinking in the energy of this place.
On to tomorrow: The annual Haiku Slam championship. Columbus' Ed Mabrey will be defending his championship against any number of poets who believe they can better him in this ancient Japanese form. Others of us will enjoy the fun of "entering haiku" with Daniel Ferri as our master of ceremonies.
Finals tomorrow night will be a glorious rush of adrenaline and substance.
Leading to finals and afterward, poets will trade and negotiate copies of each others products (books, CDs, sometimes crafts), network with slammasters and other poets from all over the country, and make plans for feature dates and tours. They will memorize each others' faces and the imprint of their poetry and take these away with them to feed another year of creativity.
Exhausted, we will all sleep lightly or not at all, worried about missed planes and "did I pack everything." Outside my door, there is the sound of Animal House, everyone talking at once and an occasional chant of "Spring break, spring break." Some of us watch and gage our time limits for the moment. Soon it will be time for normal people to retire. The rest will go on all night.
Love you all,
Hotel management continues to be gracious and accommodating. Our only concessions?Agree to use the stairs as much as possible (with thanks from the aching elevators). Promise--not to take glass inside the pool area fence and not to drop cigarette butts in the courtyard. John, the hotel manager, is a close friend of the organizer and new to management in this hotel after its recent change of ownership. He tried to negotiate out of the NPS contract because he was new, then accepted the immense task of maintaining a semblance of order while his entire facility was overtaken by poets from all over the country. He is a poetry enthusiast and took on this daunting task despite his newness and hesitation and has not been sorry.
My sacrificial/calibration poem tonight at the Hispanic Cultural Center bout went well. The teams have thanked me multiple times for "calibrating the bout just right." We'd sweated out the wait for "open doors" together in a side auditorium while HCC management got ready for the big rush. A seven-hundred person theater? I'm not sure, but maybe six hundred seats at the least, and full to the chair. Man! Magnanimus kudos to the Albuquerque organizers for a job done well, even with the last minute switch to this venue!
And what a GREAT bout it was, with the home team, Albuquerque, coming in first place among the five teams in that venue, but not a SINGLE team performing poorly... and in case you're wondering, NO. It was not home team advantage. These kids absolutely cut air molecules in half with their words and their performance. They deserved it. How wonderful to have experienced this bout. They are a new breed coming in with fresh perspectives.
There have been many, many political poems this week, among my favorites: Team Hawaii's group presentation of a piece that warns indigenous peoples all over the world "the Americans are coming." It was heartfelt and passionate, openly discussing the effect of America's slow and total infringement upon the islands of Hawaii (...'til we've become a minority on our homeland...) and its similarity to the effect of modern civ on other parts of the world. They knew they had no chance of winning the bout at the third round and chose to repeat a poem they had done earlier in the week. No consequences, except disqualification, which doesn't matter if you won't win, anyway. I will never forget the performance, and I sincerely hope it was recorded by the cameramen present. I'm sure there are lots of Native Americans who would have stood and cheered.
I've done my several circuits for the night: Saying hello, hugging folks who've been genuine, thanking those who comment on my work, giving back and giving back, taking photos of the folks I will forever consider friends, and genuinely drinking in the energy of this place.
On to tomorrow: The annual Haiku Slam championship. Columbus' Ed Mabrey will be defending his championship against any number of poets who believe they can better him in this ancient Japanese form. Others of us will enjoy the fun of "entering haiku" with Daniel Ferri as our master of ceremonies.
Finals tomorrow night will be a glorious rush of adrenaline and substance.
Leading to finals and afterward, poets will trade and negotiate copies of each others products (books, CDs, sometimes crafts), network with slammasters and other poets from all over the country, and make plans for feature dates and tours. They will memorize each others' faces and the imprint of their poetry and take these away with them to feed another year of creativity.
Exhausted, we will all sleep lightly or not at all, worried about missed planes and "did I pack everything." Outside my door, there is the sound of Animal House, everyone talking at once and an occasional chant of "Spring break, spring break." Some of us watch and gage our time limits for the moment. Soon it will be time for normal people to retire. The rest will go on all night.
Love you all,
posted by Rose | 1:00 AM
3 Comments:
What was the calibration poem you did?
A Good Wine. Hi, Louise! I miss having IM out here. For some reason I haven't been able to log in with Rose2Live.
It has been quiet without Rose2Live on im. Two years ago I didn't know any of you, now the Columbus team goes away and I feel it sharply. See you online tomorrow, if not before.
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