Musing & Muted Monologues...

Trying to Make Sense of It All...

Wednesday, January 29, 2003

I love my sister, man. She’s been on this gung- ho quest the last couple of days, trying to get me to enter this slam up in B-More. I’m like, “I’m not really trying to enter a slam unprepared”. And she’s like, “Stop making excuses and do your thing”. I appreciate the support, Lord knows I do, but I have to been in the spirit of slamming to rock it. I don’t believe in doing things half way, and I don’t want to hit a slam up doing the same material from January 2002. This means I have to have at least three new pieces ready to go without worrying about tying and having to do other pieces. Personally, I’ve slammed, but only because I was broke and needed the dough. I still don’t feel slamming all like that. It’s cool, and it’s a wonderful place to up your performance value. Great place to link up with and compete against other great poets, but, there’s the other side. The ego’s swearin’ they better than you because they won a slam or two. Or the judges who I’ve clearly seen hate on specific folks, pad scores for their peoples, and/or change their judging during a competition. I’ve even seen judges get up and leave during a slam and new judges get appointed!
Case 1: Granma Dave, this dope cat from B- More slams a hot piece, rips it, they give him sevens and what not. Because they were booed, seven was like the lowest score that entire night. Instead of scoring along that same line, they were swayed.
Case 2: I’ve slammed in slams where there were time limits that were not enforced on certain poets, where folks read off of a paper, leave the stage get the rest of their poem and come back. Stuttering through the whole piece, yet they get higher than me when I rip it.
That, to me, is a lack of continuity. To me, a slam isn’t truly about performance and poetry (although it should be), but entertainment and competition. To me, that’s wack and I can’t front like that doesn’t irk me. Like I don’t give a fuck. I’m a realist, if I lose to someone cause they ripped harder, I’m not salty. That motivates me to spit harder. But don’t shit on me cause I’m not a regular or a well known cat at your venue! You know what…I’m getting mad…I just might slam now. Fuck that, I can’t let these wanksta judges get the best of the kid! LOL
“To the Batcave!”
One.

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