is is a poem I'm going to use in a poetry Slam this Sunday, if I can get accommodated properly due to my speech impairment. It'll be my first official Slam ever. I'm not expecting to win, although it's nice to dream about that, I just want to do it to prove I can. To prove that just because you don't talk exactly normally doesn't mean you have to give up anything you really like. Please comment. I'm still open to editing suggestions.
*****

It makes sense,
given my God decreed verbal difficulties
and organizer�s soul
that I should love the written word,
especially the politically motivated written word.



Words like those
spoken by Woodrow Wilson
and burned, by women wanting suffrage,
from jail cell garbage bins.

And I do love the written word;
composing paper-based communiqu�s
has been my primary partner
contributing more bacon to bank account
than any of my other endeavors.

We�ve been wedded for more years
than I�ve been alive and, I,
for the most part, was singularly
and faithfully devoted to her.


My infidelity with and to slam
(my primary�s oft bastard sister)
began the first time I encountered her;
diva of verbally based gymnastics.

She was- I understood
destined to become this wordsmith�s
longstanding mistress.


How was I, word goddess wannabe
whose tongue sometimes twists
over non-performance syllables
despite my best effort,
to modify, accommodate, transform
slam into art form I could conquer.



Introducing the echoer, often, of late,
a New York Jew woman poet
whose perfect diction rivals
any Southern preacher I�ve heard
or my college musician roommate
who has sung my words previous,
or, infrequently, unsuspecting assistant
suddenly drafted into role
of speaking words on whichever tongue
I choose to barrow that still renders them
always, always mine.

The latest in a life
made possible by adjustments,
both self and colleague created
that grant girl poet the freedom
to have the existence she elects.


I hope my dual loves,
both daughters of Brighid
goddess of our pagan Gaelic past,
whom I discovered thanks to Google
find my proposed polyamorous
arrangement acceptable.

.

Categories: poetry [t], slam [t]

Sorry, you do not have permission to comment.

If you are a member, try logging in again or accessing this page here.