Sunday, April 12, 2015

Slam Fail, Artsy Win, Future Gets

I was recently Facebook-invited to a slam poetry event, and having not seen any slam poetry for a while, I went on YouTube yesterday and took a little tour of various slam performances. It was a mixed bag for me. I try not to judge, because I’ve never written a slam poem, and I’m fairly certain I would be a complete flop in that department for a number of reasons. First, I just do not vibe with that slam poetry cadence. It’s simply not in my DNA. I don’t think in that rhythm, words don’t come to me in that rhythm, and I can’t write or speak out loud in that rhythm. I also lack bravado, swagger, wise life advice, and any interest in talking about my period, which I all but shut down thanks to the miracle of modern medical technology, since I can’t deal with blood and cycles of renewal and all of that primal stuff that’s supposed make all roar/wise/ powerful as a woman. (As far as I’m concerned, periods are a major design flaw of the female body, and God and I will be having a talk about it if I ever make it past it the pearly gates.)

The two examples below are what I consider amazing slam. The poetry is really good. These are poems I would find beautiful and heartbreaking had I read them on paper first without seeing them performed, and the performances serve the poetry first, rather than trying to shoehorn it into a slam cadence.  Who knows, maybe there’s hope for me after all, and I’ll actually try slam one of these days. But right now, I’m working on a short essay about monster therapy, so any awesome slam poems that lay dormant within me will have to wait.

In other artsy news, I was accepted onto the Art Committee at my place of work, and I’m really excited about it! I’ve been reading up on the role of art in healing environments, Northwest artists, and all things sculptury, painty, and watercolory, so I’m learning a lot already, and I haven’t even attended my first official meeting yet. I’ve always paid close attention the art work displayed throughout the hospital campus I work at, so it’s nice to have an official reason to get lost in it now.

I still haven’t gotten a new fish. I have a tank big enough to accommodate a small reptile, and I'm considering getting a gecko or something similar instead; a creature that doesn’t require a chemistry degree to keep alive. Other things I am getting soon: A haircut, a massage, possibly orthotic shoes, three fillings, and a new swimsuit since I’ve decided to start going to the pool again.

Warning to the sensitive: There are some swears and references to male anatomy in “How We Have Learned to Love”.




--Kristen McHenry




2 comments:

Artisan Lifestyle said...

Slam poetry is fun, if you are looking for an expression of your run-of-the-mill pissed. But true banked rage is better expressed with a sotto voce growl between gritted teeth ;)

Kristen McHenry said...

Agreed, Frankie! And I have no shortage of banked rage. I'd better get growling.