nothin MLK Poetry Slam Pops And Locks It Down | New Haven Independent

MLK Poetry Slam Pops And Locks It Down

Brian Slattery Photos

Ngoma.

Before the Peabody’s 24th annual Zannette Lewis Environmental and Social Justice Professional Poetry Slam began on Monday afternoon, poet and emcee Ngoma had a word for people who brought their children to see it.

I’m going to warn you that we don’t censor people,” he said. We don’t pull punches.” And for the next couple hours, none of the poets competing in the slam did.

The poetry slam was part of the Peabody Museum’s long-running Martin Luther King, Jr. Day celebration, though it took place in Kroon Hall on Prospect Street instead due to the museum’s renovation

We moved the space and I was concerned that we wouldn’t be able to find each other,” Ngoma said.

That turned out not to be a problem. As Ngoma explained to the packed room, the slam featured 12 poets in all. Each poet had a couple minutes onstage, with strict time limits. Five judges were there to evaluate and score their work, on a scale of 0 to 10. To figure out a total score, the highest and the lowest scores would be thrown out and the remaining three added together. To demonstrate, Ngoma performed one of his poems first and asked the judges to score him.

Zero means I never should have let it out of the house,” Ngoma said. The judges gave his poem a cumulative score of 26.6. And with that, the real competition began.

Chavon.

Rebel Poet stormed out of the gate with a poem about police brutality that used words like bullets. Chavon had a poem that talked about how he never really liked being called king,” which then led to an examination of the dangers and struggles of inner-city life and the damage wrought by gentrification. Some days I wonder if East Atlanta left me,” he said. A line about the police — look how quickly they can snatch your crown and leave you Rodney” — drew an oooooh from the crowd. Chavon’s poem then zeroed in on the reason for the day. A man who taught us how to rise after his death?” he said. What is king to a god?”

The judges awarded him a 27.2. It would have been a point higher, but he’d gone over time. That, as it turned out, would cost him.

Jazz.

Jazz had a poem about perception drawn from the case of the Central Park Five. When I see us I see beauty, and wisdom that’s wealthy,” she said. When they see us, they see a threat…. I see husband, they see felon. I see auntie, they see guilty.” Yex unleashed a poem about magic that sardonically explored the sometimes nightmarishly absurd realities of living as a minority in America.

Tony then stepped up with a poem that raised the bar a little. His piece started as a love letter to his fiance and her dark skin. My skin would not be light if not for Lucifer,” he added. I don’t deserve to be this happy,” he said, as he dove into his personal history. The history of slavery and all that followed seemed like too much of a weight to bear. But he suggested that maybe love was a way out. Tony was awarded a 28.3 for his efforts.

But Zulynette was ready to strike back with a hilarious and excoriating poem about her own name. My name was not meant to be said by lazy tongues,” she said. Her mother had made it up. It had no meaning like so many names do; as Zulynette put it, I will not bring English ships to the island of my identity to colonize it.”

My name is Zulynette,” she concluded, and you may call me … Zulynette.”

She brought the house down and got a score of 28.6.

The game now seemed elevated. Lyrical Faith had a poem about black teenaged boys on the subway in New York City and the way they could claim space on it. Theirs are the only voices that matter” on those rides, she said. Sometimes we need this when there is no space for us to be.” And she interpreted their boisterous behavior as a riot … like we still have so much joy, when we had so many reasons to give up.”

Abioseh.

Abioseh picked up on similar themes to poets before, talking about language and perception. It’s not my English that’s broken,” he said. It only looks that way to keep myself from falling apart.” He talked about negative perception of blackness even as black birthed the universe,” and the things in the universe would all someday be swallowed by black holes. Please, don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. You hate me — because I’m beautiful,” he said.

Influence went for the jugular with a piece about the n‑word, and how America loves it. But it ain’t never had nothing to do with the color of my skin,” he said, but with the content of their character.” He burned through a litany of the worst stereotypes ascribed to black people, and then pointed out that lawmakers, in abandoning social services and public education, were themselves the embodiment of those stereotypes. Yes, America sure loved the n‑word, but she ain’t never loved black folks.” Midnight compared guns and cameras in a searing piece that ended with the fear that comes in putting them together. Every time my father says cheese,’ I freeze — not knowing if I’m posing for a portrait or for my obituary,” he said.

D. Colin.

D. Colin’s opening poem was a meditation on how difficult it was to write poems about, say, autumn trees, when she was dealing with the realities of being black in America. A poem can’t swallow a bullet then way a black body can,” she said. And Michael Warrior Bond finished up the first round with a poem about the War on Drugs that warned that it might well be continuing — from the heroin and crack of the past to the weed and vaping of today. This death wish,” he said, exhaling sharply, is for you.” It drew sharp gasps from the crowd. But he had gone over time, and as with Chavon, the penalty would cost him.

Yex.

The second round winnowed the competition to eight poets. Yex got a visit from Jesus, and filled him in on the state of non-white America — cities that policymakers used as their coloring books,” as if the streets weren’t rivers of blood already, kind of like Venice.”

The meek shall inherit the earth only after the rich people have raped it. And then the poor will eat the rapists. Can you taste it?” she asked.

D. Colin used her second poem to connect the audience to her family’s history in Haiti and the women there who carry resistance in their sweat” and were full of stories that may never be translatable, but always end in hope.”

Behind the mountains,” she said, there are more mountains.”

Midnight.

Midnight’s second poem dived into how black people survived in America, through church and community, and by understanding how little had changed. He recalled being stopped by an officer, or overseer, whatever you want to call him,” who appeared to looking for an excuse to search his car and arrest him. He spoke sarcastically of the white supremacists who rallied in Charlottesville when their ancestors were the first illegal immigrants.” And most chillingly, he ended by talking about counting the black bodies that continue to fall — 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 10, 20, 100, 400, 500” — he left the stage counting and continued to count as he walked down the aisle. The crowd roared.

Influence.

Influence argued that the War on Drugs was a continuation of lynchings. Heroin has us hanging from our own veins,” he said. He then turned to entertainment and his feelings about the lessons being peddled to black youth. BET lets 50 Cent tell them that bullet holes will make them a general. Hip hop tells them that the best they can hope for is ghetto rich,” he said. But he addressed kids by speaking from experience. You’re standing where I stood. You’re drowning where I swam,” he said. They call our children vultures because they’re scavenging on the garbage that we give them.”

Abioseh talked about the money generated by incarceration. Lyrical Faith talked about code-switching. I can give you Cardi B and Michelle Obama in the same day,” she said. I’m good on any MLK Boulevard.” She was effectively bilingual, but there was tension in that. It was a double-edged sword resting on the tips of my gums.” One side, she said, was trying to be an origin story while the other just became one.” Tony’s poem about dealing with racism as he hustled for roles in theater productions in college connected hard. Not once did I make it about race, even though I was everyone’s understudy,” he said. Eight different costume changes while still being worthless.” And Zulynette set the place on fire with a harrowing account of her parents surviving and living in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria and particularly the paltry relief response to the overwhelming need. This is history showing its ass,” she said. Our island is drowning. But our people never will. Puerto Rico fuerte, siempre.”

The judges’ scores dictated that only five poets — Zulynette, Tony, Lyrical Faith, Abioseh, and Midnight — move to the next and possibly final round. Zulynette dug into queer politics and the dangers of being a woman. Abioseh brought out an unsettling poem about the questionable morality of eating meat. But it was Tony’s poem about a racially charged encounter with his mother, both funny and tragic simltaneously, that seemed the clear winner. It garnered the first perfect 10 of the afternoon. The problem: Tony had gone over his limit.

And the judges’ scores added up to a three-way tie, between Lyrical Faith, Zulynette, and Tony.

Zulynette went first, with a poem about the way messages about body image are affecting young girls.

And Lyrical Faith got disarmingly vulnerable, creating a few minutes of eerie quiet.

But it was Tony’s last poem that sealed victory for him — a rollicking ride through rap and dance that was personal and social, a seamless integration of pop-and-lock movement and angular language. It was God in the flesh, in the songs and the chants,” as he said. They can break bodies, but they can’t break dance.”

The crowd roared again. Ngoma wouldn’t announce the winner for another minute, but it was already clear.

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