Tuesday, April 24, 2012
SlamNation
I like the whole idea of the SlamNation compititions. It looks really fun and i like how the judges are the audience and they are straight foward with what they like and what they don't like. the performers, however, when they recite their poems its as if they are telling a story. When we read the poems it seems so much different than how they perform it. I really didnt expect that. They all seem a bit prechy. The way they perform is almost all the same. Yelling, speaking-fast, last word of the line is the most emphazies. I didnt see a varitey of emotion put with each poet. My favorite was the asian one. He's poems were reallly interedting and I could tell he really loves doing the Spoken Word. I like the sterotypic poem he said. It was funny yet meaningful. Along with the afraican amaerican lady talking about the kids in Afria exicted to raise their hands in class saying tthey know someone dead. It was like.. wow. Anyways i didnt expect the group performances. That was interesting, i would like to see that in person. Its like all these personailities put into one perforance. I like the one that mentioned the cheerleader. i dont kow i found it funny. Alot of the poems had humor which i didn't think it would because alot of the topics they spoke of was serious topics. Over all i like it though, its something I never expected.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Forgiveness- Morton Marcus
I heard the man
before I saw him.
He was kneeling
in an alley
off Broadway
and 45th street
one summer night,
rocking back and
forth, muttering,
"Forgive me!
Forgive me!"
At first, I thought
he was bending
over a dog, then
I thought, no, his grief
is to great: it
must be a child,
and I hurried to help.
There was no dog,
no child. The man
was bending
over his shadow,
pleading with it,
"Forgive me!
Forgive me!"
_________________________________________________________________________________
before I saw him.
He was kneeling
in an alley
off Broadway
and 45th street
one summer night,
rocking back and
forth, muttering,
"Forgive me!
Forgive me!"
At first, I thought
he was bending
over a dog, then
I thought, no, his grief
is to great: it
must be a child,
and I hurried to help.
There was no dog,
no child. The man
was bending
over his shadow,
pleading with it,
"Forgive me!
Forgive me!"
_________________________________________________________________________________
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