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So, about last night:
I’m somewhat a little laughing at myself today, because of how I was probably sounding yesterday about my chances in last night’s competition. Last night went better than I’d have imagined. For “real”.
Round 1 of last night’s Bout 2 of the ABQ Slam Poet Laureate Competition broke down like this: eleven competitors, all strong poets, and I wound up drawing the “3” in the draw for the first order. Not very promising, and I knew that whatever I did had to be exciting and funny enough to keep me in the minds of the three judges for the rest of the round. I did “Taste the Rainbow” (the “let’s make fun of homophobes candy euphemism poem), had a little trip-up in the beginning, recovered as fast as I could and then tore up the rest of the poem like my junk was on fire. I’m thinking now that it was kind of a risky choice, as I’ve noticed that around here in Albuquerque sometimes I get punished for making fun of homophobia. For that I the judges gave me a 26.5, which outscored the first two poets and several of the following poets as well.
Round 2, the “one-minute” round, gave me even MORE stress than the first round did, because, since I had the third highest score in round one, and since we were going high to low in Round 2, this meant I was up in the “3” spot AGAIN! And my turn at bat in Round 2 was immediately following Danny Solis (a hero and inspiration of mine forever), so I was even more convinced by then that I was doomed. I performed “red”, a one-minute ode to obsession and got a 26.7, a higher score than I got in Round 1, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the game was up for me.
The way last night worked, the scores for Rounds 1 and 2 were added up and the top 7 poets out of the field of 11 advanced on to the final round of the bout. Turns out I had made it to Round 3!
Backstage, we did a fresh draw, and I drew the “4” for the last round. Better odds and I felt a little more at ease. At my turn, 4th up, I did “Maybe It’s Time” (a funny poem satirizing those ubiquitous pharmaceutical commercials and their puzzling “side effects”) and got a 29.4, outscoring the three poets who had gone on before me thus far, which meant I’d secured a spot in the June 13 Finals at the Kimo Theatre. After me, Jimmy Lusero, Tracey Pontani and Danny Solis had yet to go up. I was sure that one of them was going to outscore me, but that didn’t happen. Everyone in that final round performed magnificently. Somehow, my score for “Maybe It’s Time” was the highest score for the round, meaning that I won the thing. How in the Hell did THAT happen?
And so, now, I look forward to the Finals night at the Kimo Theatre in downtown Albuquerque. I have even MORE work cut out for me now, because, because….well…..just LOOK at this list of the poets in the Finals:
• Jessica Lopez
• Danny Solis
• Manuel Gonzalez
• Tracey Pontani
• Adan Baca
• Damien Flores
• Rich Boucher
• Hakim Bellamy
• Carlos Contreras
• Jimmy Lusero
• Sina Aurelia Soul
• Christian Drake
So, in other words, HOLY EFF.
But, hey –
I’m just proud that I made it even this far.
Please come out tonight to the Crimson Moon for the Poetry Night! Tonight we have a special feature poet with us, we have Shannon Leigh coming to be with us, all the way from Atlanta, Georgia! Shannon Leigh is a hip-hop/spoken word artist out of Austin, TX. She is the 3-time champion and 4-time team member of the U21S Slam, 4-time finalist in the Austin Slamoff, has performed in Austin, San Antonio, Conroe, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Chicago, Cambridge, Atlanta, and Cape Town, South Africa, and has shared the stage with the likes of Saul Williams, Jared Paul, Sage Francis, Taalam Acey, Matthew John Conley, Da’Shade Moonbeam, Earth Raiders, Blacklisted and Public Offenders. She has performed with Sage Francis in Las Vegas, NV and featured at DemocracyFest 2005 in Austin, TX at Stubb’s BBQ, performed at the National Poetry Slam and is featured on Season 6 of Def Poetry Jam. Shannon made it all the way to the Finals stage at the 2007 National Poetry Slam in Austin, Texas. And to think that only a measly $2 at the door, and a measly $5 minimum purchase will get you in! Where else are you going to get a cultural value meal like that on a Wednesday night in Wilmington, seriously?
DelaWhere? Poetry Open Mic & Slam
@ Crimson Moon
1909 W. 6th Street
Wilmington, DE 19805
“When parrots flew the skies
My brother cried “Macaw! Macaw! Thy scarecrow, I’s!
His devious balloon will ever slither by.”
- Robert Chartowich
The above picture, by my imagination.
The above corresponding poem, by my friend Monsieur Chartowich.
Welcome to The University of Morpheus | A Community of Learning & Inspiration: We Encourage Bravery in Thought and Curiosity at Heart. Student Population? Untold.July 3, 2007 at 7:29 pm | Posted in Delaware, Dreaming, Dreams, Feminism, Greece, Mime, Mysticism, Newark, Delaware, Pantomime, Photography, Psychoanalysis, Psychology, Supermodels, Women | Leave a comment
I had a dream this morning that I was walking somewhere on some college campus (The University of Morpheus?) and I saw this piece of outdoor guerilla theater where these college boys and girls were naked and posing as mannequins frozen in the middle of various dance steps. At one point, I stood next a girl and began to mimic her pantomime and she smiled at me and she and I began to do a sort of pantomime routine together. She would do one sort of serious of poses, and I would follow suit. Without saying a word. Only smiling at each other at the end of each successful coordination of moves.
When we were done, she and a couple of the other people in the troupe asked me to join them on their tour of various Greek fraternity and sorority houses.
If anyone has any Earthly idea what a dream like this can mean, please let me know.
The girls in the dream were naked but painted as though they had bikinis on, by the way.
Which was nice.
I was “fooling about” with Photoshop, and I came up with this. It’s sort of based on an unfinished poem that I’m still working on, so I thought I’d leave the poem for a bit and see if some visual doodling would help things along. Oh, how I love Photoshop.
Yesterday, January 30th, after several months of living nobly and dignifiedly with a cancerous, inoperable tumor in her jaw, my beloved cat, Smudge, died peacefully at the veterinary hospital. She was nearly 16. She was my darling and my sweetheart. She loved me for 10 years, unconditionally and without reserve.
Smudge, I will never, ever forget the love you gave to me. All the little nose kisses, the nights you sat on my lap while I read, and petted you. The nights while I slept and you cuddled in the crook of my arm and napped a little with me. The days that we played and you chased the little toys that I made. Both the admiration and adoration my friends all had for you. I will never forget your greeting me in the morning with cheerful meows when you herded me towards your food dish to get you breakfast. The happy, loud sound of your purr. And you coming to get morning pets in bed from your mama and Daddy. You were such a good girl, Smudge. My heart is broken that you’re gone. A part of me knows that yesterday was the end of your suffering and that you are much happier where you are now, but I just need you to know that your daddy will always have a room in his heart full of love for you and the memories that he has of you. I cry because I love you so much and miss you.
I know that the love that a pet can give is a privilege, and not a right any human can claim. I know how very fortunate I am to have given the chance to know, care for and so deeply love you all these years. But it still doesn’t take away this awful hurt in my heart that I feel. I miss you so much. And if one day after this life, I am somehow blesed to see your face again, my heart will be full.
Daddy loves you, Smudge, and he always will.
Good evening, World. My name is Richard, and I am an Apocalyptic Rabbit. A hypocrite Rabbi. A hypochondriac full of blather. I don’t know what I am. I once was a child, then I was a man. I’m neither now. I’m something else. Put here to — what? Observe. Put here to observe a thing and to say. Put here to witness and to translate. I looked around at all the other blog suppliers (websites? servers? what do you call these online things|places that give you blogs?) and I believe that I have found one that will finally work for me, with regard to aesthetics.
I write poetry and I used to be what’s called a “slam poet”. I still occasionally slam at open slams in the state of Delaware and around thereabouts. I read my poetry aloud more often in an “open mic” environment than in a “slam”. Sometimes I’ll talk here about poetry, and perhaps even put up a poem on here (disclaimer/advisory: unless I am quoting from another person’s poem on here — and I’ll tell you if I do that — any poetry on here will be mine and authored by me, Richard Boucher, just so you know).
Although I’m probably a mite old for this, I play video games for off-hours enjoyment. I’m not obsessed with video games, but, just so you know, as I’ll sometimes talk about this, too; I like to get my Nintendo on from time to time. It’s an escape; it’s a relaxer; it’s a time-waster — call it what you want to call it but please don’t try to take my Nintendo DS from me!
Relationship? Or ships? I might maybe talk about those on here. Depends on how “close to the vest” I’ll want to be. A friend of mine described me as a private person and I’ll just say that with some parts of me that’s true. You caught me in a state of flux, world. I’m trying, though, to somehow make myself an improvement on what I have been so far — which isn’t so much to brag about.
It seems to me that as an apocalyptic rabbit, and as a poet, it’s appropriate to talk tonight (it being my first night on wordpress and all) to talk about the end of the world and how it’s on its way. Or maybe I don’t want to talk about it yet. Is there a word for it when you hear about children holding up adults at gunpoint and you’re so freaked out by the news of this that you are at a loss for words other than to say, here, look? Children today are holding adults up at gunpoint, and they’re also filming themselves on cameraphones beating up other schoolchildren.
I think my point here might be that children are dangerous. Or that only I should have all the video games. Maybe my point is it’s time to stop not charging children who commit adult crimes as adults. Since a school suspension doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Or perhaps my point is, with this horrid war going on with no end in sight, and with the bases of the icecaps cracking and a global cataclysm on its surefire way, why am I worried about parking tickets? Why should any of us even listen when our subhuman supervisor at work decides to use her power for unwarranted abuse? I’ll continue to write my ridiculous poetry meanwhile, it’s all I know how to do well. I do know that James Tate is one fantastic poet; he is one of my greatest inspirations.
I’m somewhat “new again” to this blogging thing, and I want to do it right. So I’ll understand if you consider this a very “rambling” start to it all. I’ll deserve that. This will improve, also.
Here is a “shoutoutixxorz” in the “vernac” of the hip, young, intarwebs people: if you’re jonesin’ for some insightful verbage on Delaware (and world) politics, stop by the illustrious Dana Garrett’s DelawareWatch blog. He’s very good at what he does, and is a poetry, blogger, and human inspiration.
I just saw a wild movie at a friend’s house the other night. It’s called Aaron Russo’s America: Freedom to Fascism. That’s what the movie was called, not the friend’s house. Did you know there is no federal law requiring you to pay a personal income tax? Before I saw this movie, I, too, thought there was a sort of freakishness to those who talked about these issues, but not anymore. Please see this movie. Before the federal government (or your local government, in an act of cowardice) decides for you that you may no longer have the option of watching it.
I’m out for now. I’ll be back tomorrow. Hope you all have a good night.