Slam can be beautiful, it can be entertaining, it can be funny, it can be serious, it can be dramatic, it can be competitive.
Each night is different. You never know what the judges are going to do. You never know what their preferences are. Such is part of the nature of slam. Three years in and there's no way I'm able to figure this out.
Tonight, the judges seemed to like the raunchier poems. They were the ones they seemed to score higher.
In round one, I read a new poem I'm rather proud of. It's not raunchy. I was in fifth place out of seven poets. Fine.
In round two, more raunchy poems. Ok, at least one high scoring one. While looking at the scores, I think I can move up a couple of spots with my three minute dick joke poem. Did not want to read it going into the night, but I figured I'd burn it and have some fun. Plans change in the middle of the game. You can play to the crowd, the judges, to your own motives - I went for the stand up clown act.
It did well and I ended up tied for third with one poet left.
She started her piece, which seemed to be rather erotic, then went astray saying she was tired and she quit.
No one was quite sure if that was part of the poem or not. Sometimes the freestyling can go off track. It happens.
So when the host asked for the judges scores the poet went off saying she did not want to be judged, that she quit.
Then the meltdown happened. She paced the stage saying she's been in slam for eight years and was tired. Going off about how she loved words and was tired of slam being used for entertainment. I'm not quite sure of her exact words, there was some serious acting out going on and I hope some of those issues get addressed.
And I could not help but think that I had something to do with that, but there has to be more going on.
Recapping was tough tonight. I'm not taking the tirade personally, just want people to be safe.
Oh, and Vernell won. Walli came in second. Gina and I placed third.