Poetry

Oct. 31st, 2010 05:32 pm
outsdr: (Default)
By chance I'm catching "Brave New Voices" on tv. Happened to catch the ABQ team and Kenn Rodriquez, which was cool.

But listening to all the performers, I'm still hearing what turned me sour on slams at the end - everyone sounds the same. Everyone has the same staccato delivery, the same studied emphasis at the same key points ... and all I hear any more is the cadence; the words are lost. Which sucks, because the words I catch are good- but they're lost. The words aren't important anymore; just the melody they create.

Poetry

Oct. 31st, 2010 05:32 pm
outsdr: (Default)
By chance I'm catching "Brave New Voices" on tv. Happened to catch the ABQ team and Kenn Rodriquez, which was cool.

But listening to all the performers, I'm still hearing what turned me sour on slams at the end - everyone sounds the same. Everyone has the same staccato delivery, the same studied emphasis at the same key points ... and all I hear any more is the cadence; the words are lost. Which sucks, because the words I catch are good- but they're lost. The words aren't important anymore; just the melody they create.
outsdr: (Default)
Today is not a day to be outside
The sky could be made of cinder blocks
with its face of industrial gray
I'm told it's spring
But this seems to be some other season
The season of war
battles fought between
the valiant color of blooming flowers
against the cold shoulder of a jealous winter
The wind must have its say
and its words bite ruthlessly
stinging my face like shame
This day wants nothing to do with me
and is unapproachable by anyone
So I'll turn my back on its unwelcome glance
and try again tomorrow
hoping the sky
will find a better mood
and reflect a smile
outsdr: (Default)
Today is not a day to be outside
The sky could be made of cinder blocks
with its face of industrial gray
I'm told it's spring
But this seems to be some other season
The season of war
battles fought between
the valiant color of blooming flowers
against the cold shoulder of a jealous winter
The wind must have its say
and its words bite ruthlessly
stinging my face like shame
This day wants nothing to do with me
and is unapproachable by anyone
So I'll turn my back on its unwelcome glance
and try again tomorrow
hoping the sky
will find a better mood
and reflect a smile

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outsdr

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