Originally posted 8/13/2011.
How can you deal with it
being so loud?
Recall all the times
you went unheard.
It seems, sometimes,
that the words form
a powerful flood.
What is there to do
when you’re drowning in it?
Recall how the air
you pull into your chest
when you break surface
is cleaner and fresher
for having been riled.
But they use so many words!
How are you supposed to hear them all?
Recall your toys,
how they each got time
from you in turns.
Move yourself among the words
in the same loving way.
It seems, sometimes,
that the passion overpowers
the poetry. How then
do you worship the craft?
Recall the difference
between rock and roll
and jazz, how each
trips a different trigger,
how one moves hips,
stomps, rags on the moment;
how the other snaps toes and
fingers, lifts the head
and arcs the back.
One does not do
what the other does
and each suits its time.
But it seems sometimes
that it’s been said before,
sometimes right before.
How do you
tell the difference?
Recall that hearing
the story of Cain and Abel
once
has not stopped fratricide.
Are you saying it’s all
a matter of memory?
It is all a matter of memory.
Recall the campfires,
the hunt and the chase,
the grief and joy
of how new we were once.
How thankful we became
upon simply teaching our tongues
to speak of this —
every time it is new to a new listener;
every time, long memory lodges in one ear
as it goes out another.
But even after all that,
it seems so
overwhelming, so unnecessary…
Remember the first thing
I told you,
that you should recall
what it was to be
unheard?
What part of being human
is so lost to you
that you should feel
so uncomfortable
in the presence
of a need
such as this?
Dark Matter 
June 3rd, 2015 at 5:22 am
Great Tony!
It brings back memories of the first slam I ever went to. I went in with what I thought I knew and was so surprised. Initially I got some strange looks as I was one of very few caucasians there, older than most, and the only caucasian female. Somehow I got up for the open mic and read a piece. When the slam was over, I was invited back as the featured poet a few weeks later.
June 3rd, 2015 at 7:17 am
Did you go in France or over here? Just curious — I know a couple of the Parisian slammers from their visits to the US.
June 3rd, 2015 at 7:25 am
It was in California.
Here is a link to the poem that brought about the featured reading and it is titled The Immaculate Orgasm.
June 3rd, 2015 at 8:04 am
I can imagine that went over well at the slam. Where in Cali was it?
June 4th, 2015 at 3:39 am
The open mic was after the featured reader and toward the end of the slam.
June 4th, 2015 at 10:02 am
The slam was in Sacramento but it was years ago…
June 4th, 2015 at 10:36 am
Oh, sure. That was probably the one run by Angela…um, Angela. Dammit, what was her last name? I think it started with a “B.” She passed away from a stroke several years ago.
June 4th, 2015 at 10:39 am
The slam was run by a young man named Khiry Malik.
June 4th, 2015 at 10:42 am
Hmmmm…I’ll check it out. Angela (DAMMIT) was the only slammer I knew from Sacramento and I thought she was slammaster — we were on tour together briefly in 2000.
June 4th, 2015 at 10:45 am
I don’t doubt it. I will ask a friend who sometimes goes to the poetry at Luna’s. The slammers often come by there. I’ve been away for awhile.
June 4th, 2015 at 10:51 am
GOT IT!!!!! Angela Boyce. She and Khiry founded the slam together (I looked it up). She died of a stroke in 2002 after moving back to her hometown of San Diego.
June 4th, 2015 at 1:29 pm
We may have crossed paths but I don’t recall her. I knew Khiry’s aunt, Akili Jaye, who died in a motorcycle accident. She was amazing.
June 2nd, 2015 at 6:15 pm
Good one.
June 2nd, 2015 at 5:10 pm
Never have been to a poetry slam, so don’t have a clue. But sure can relate to the need to be heard!