Going Past Eleven

It was a long night of poetry at WB. A very long night. There was open mic, a feature, a 12 poet slam and a special appearance by the Slam Papi himself, Marc Smith. It was an open mic with anarchy. A poet read two poems, and said one of them would be short, when it was not. Shame! Shun! There's a new rule coming into play for anyone whose cell phone goes off - they have to go behind the curtain, with no peeking! Heck, we might even put a poet back there with the offender, for a private reading.

LaShaun Phoenix was the feature. She did a fine job whipping the crowd into shape for the slam.

Then Marc Smith, introduced the slam, Chicago Style!



He also performed the final poem of the evening. A very good one about lifting each other up. I'm not sure why he was in town. Heard whispers that he was simply checking out other scenes. Either way, very cool that he gave us a visit.

I was the sacrificial poet for the slam and debuted a poem that is going back into the shop. There is a there in there, but I do not know where it quite is yet. Again, having fun, taking batting practice. It was a long night and I was keeping the time so the poems during the slam were a bit of a blue. Have to say I will greatly appreciate the no repeat rule this slam season.

At the end J.G. pulled away and won the night, with Ethan second and Vernell third. I'm liking what J.G.'s doing. He's a hard working poet who is quite versatile with the rap, rhyming and prose. I love when he gets nostalgic about stuff, even when I have no idea what he's talking about he makes it convincing. Truth.

Finally. If everything is so great and awesome, it's time to raise the bar. We're not all pooping out diamonds. Time to challenge ourselves, take risks and do better work.