The Art of Phraseology

             Spoken word is the rhythmically charged delivery of an original poem by an artist. This inventive idea has grown and flourished over the past twenty years and become a mainstream outlet for poets. The combination of passionate delivery and often a poignant message makes listening to spoken word, or slam poetry, a very entertaining experience.

             Saul Williams is a pioneer of slam poetry.  In one of his most powerful pieces, “Coded Language”, Williams speaks about self-consciousness, and that people should be enlightened and aware. People need to live in the present, "We claim the present as the pre-sent, as the hereafter." He acknowledges people who have had an impact somehow in today's society. Williams' message is that people need to fight for their own justice as men, not settle to be seen as a "person", whose rights can be twisted and ignored. Engaged in a chant-like rhythm, Williams powerfully asks his audience what they are willing to do to achieve progression in society.

Spoken word poetry, though often powerful, doesn’t have to be quite so dense. There can be a more obvious message, like in Taylor Mali’s “What Teachers Make”. What good is a teacher in our culture that no longer values education? They are only educating our future generations, for god’s sake. This is how Mali perceives the world. He has a distinct message to the ignorant people who believe he is unimportant and irrelevant: “You want to know what I make? I make kids wonder, I make them question. I make them criticize.” Mali makes a lasting impression that doesn’t leave a doubt in anyone’s mind: “Teachers make a goddamn difference! Now what about you?”

Slam is a channel through which many artists get their start in becoming a household name. Kanye West, the infamously egotistical rapper was barely more than a no-name when Mos Def introduced him as “the future of hip hop” at the 2004 Def Poetry Jam. Flashing the still attached tags of his brand new Adidas high tops, Kanye spoke “It seem we living the American Dream , but the people highest up got the lowest self-esteem.” West made it clear that people with the most status, the most money, and the most ego are often also the most insecure. He rose to be an infamous rapper, through his roots in slam poetry.

Spoken word, or slam poetry, is a means of expression vital to our culture today. It connects well-read philosophers with kids from the ‘hood, who have never been able to show that they have just as much potential to move an audience, or change the world. This art of phraseology was born form diversity, which makes it the most accessible avenue of expression, and it will undoubtedly continue to grow.

George vs. Curley's Wife

George looked up from shoeing the horse to see the outline of Curley's wife in the doorway of the barn. They were alone. She batted her long lashes at him and cooed,

"George, I'm sure you as sharp as a tack, but you sure don't say much, do ya?"

He shifted his glance uneasily to the floor as he felt her getting closer.

"I don't want no trouble Ma'am."

"I just want to talk to you, George. It's hotter 'n a snakes ass in a wagon rut out there, and the barn is so cool and breezy. Tell me all about what makes a man like you tick."

"I said I don't want no trouble. Talkin' to you is like playin' with fire 'round here. You stroll in, fishing for compliments from a man who's just minding his business. Next thing I know, your loose cannon of a husband gon' come in here and get handy with me."

Curley's wife drew herself back, bewildered that George had just attacked her. She contemplated her response carefully, and said in barely more than a whisper,

"Beggars can't be choosers George. I am not in a position to be pickin' and choosin' who I am friendly with, so I figured you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, right? But apparently I am not entitled to even one friend. Every damn man on this ranch is afraid of Curley. Every damn one, and I pay the price."




      

I Have a Dream

Years ago, people dedicated themselves to putting family first. To whole heartedly declaring until death do us part. To working hard at relationships that were built to last. To commitment.

But this is no longer the case. Years ago, a minority of people started to utilize the option of divorce. Years later this became a common practice. Years that put the importance of being a family on the back burner. No longer could all children claim their parents loved each other. No longer could their parents pretend the children were wrong about that. Marriage, and family, no longer involved commitment.

Sometimes divorce is the only option. But it was never intended to be an easy way out for people. People who are so afflicted by a society that tells them to keep upgrading, they do just that. Decide to trade in the old faithful for a new, shiny model that might last a few years, at most. People need to re-prioritize. I am tired of feeling left behind and torn apart. I am tired of wondering how many sons and daughters are fighting for the attention they deserve from their preoccupied parents. I am tired of wondering if things can get better.

I have a dream, that families will exist again as the majority. That kids will know, once upon a time, there was such a thing as true love. That Mommy and Daddy put them first. I have a dream. A dream that is dictated by family road trips and embarrassing reunions. A dream that is provoked by the bitter lust for those simple pleasures. A dream that is fueled by every child from a broken home who wishes things could be just a little bit simpler.

"We cannot walk alone." We cannot survive without the bonds of brotherhood, or motherhood and fatherhood for that matter. We are nothing when all there is to look back on are fragments of joy. When the pursuit of happiness is not something we are working towards, but something that exists only as a distant thought.

We must let families grow.

Let the idea of living under the same roof sink in, become normal again.

We must let these families mature and develop, so that some ways down the road, the trials and tribulations they overcame can be celebrated.

Years ago, people dedicated themselves to putting family first. I have a dream that once again, people will whole heartedly devote themselves to working hard at relationships. To instilling into their children that they are loved, and always will be. To commitment.

The Roller Coaster

             It begins with the giddy faces of anticipant riders. Slowly they enter their carts, and fasten themselves in for one last ride. Those surrounding them are comrades they’ve been riding with since kindergarten. Everyone is relaxed, excited at what the tracks ahead of them hold in store. But as the carts begin to inch forward, an ache starts to grow at the bottom of each and every belly aboard. Gaining speed on the upward ascent, the ache in each belly morphs into full blown terror, and panic sets in. What if the breaks fail and the carts soar off the track? What if they get stuck and require assistance to make it to the end? What if someone has second thoughts? Can they turn back once the row of carts peak and take motion?  Reassurances exchanged between friends remind them all of the pride they will boast amongst completion of this terrifying ride. The thrill takes over all on-board, though some must maintain a firm grip on the safety bars. Everybody puts on their best smile as they swoop down past the cameras, and a sense of finality surges through the riders. Together, they experienced the mass hysteria when beginning the climb, the impending doom on their descent, and the widespread relief when it was all over. Knowing it was the last ride they would take with one another was bittersweet. The many roller coasters these people have ridden together will remain fond in their memories. In the future, a few riders may go to the same theme parks together, but for many this is it. And as each person disembarks, it dawns on them that there will always be a bigger coaster, awaiting them to climb aboard.

The Concert

There was only a moment before it would all begin. The biggest performance of my life. An internal bomb of nerves was about to detonate from within and all I could think was to keep breathing. After my summer performing at Juliard, this should've been second nature to me. But playing a sold out show in Central Park was terrifyingly daunting. I swallowed a calming remedy that left a bitter, oily after taste, tuned my guitar for the last time, and took the stage. I was met by a roaring crowd of twenty thousand and my nerves were overwhelmed with excitement. The carpet below my feet was my good luck charm, woven with paisley designs by my grandmother many years before. My only superstition was that I never performed without insence burning; the musky aroma filled the air and calmed me. I approached the stool and took my place. The crowd was silent. I looked out, and seeing the thousands of expectant faces I realized there was no good in letting my nerves get the best of me. This had to be an amazing concert. I began plucking strings and tapping my feet and became lost in the melody. In a blink two hours had gone by. The exuberant crowd beckoned me back for not one, but two encores. As I walked off the stage, I was filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment that I had never felt before. The most terrifying challenge of my life proved to be the most fullfiling one too.

User Profile

To the average eye, Kayla appears to be a loudmouthed hippy with a knack for procrastination. But there is more to this story than soy products and disappointing grades. Kayla spends her days combatting the ideals of her small redneck town, and she will not be fulfilled until she has achieved change. It will be, as Martin Luther King Jr. proclaimed, "a joyous daybreak to end the long night". Kayla admires his tribulations and triumphs that elected him one of the greatest human rights activists in history. She is also a connoisseur of LP's, and Kayla's musical interests reflect that of someone from another era. The Beatles, Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd reign supreme on her playlists. George Harrison represents the musician she strives to one day become. Maintaining a solid relationship with her brother David is Kayla's top priority as family is extremely important to her. She hopes to emulate her many grandparents in how close their family bonds were, or continue to be. Going hand in hand with that is the importance of knowing of what is morally proper. Kayla's father has instilled in her good values that always come into play when making important decisions, and she relies on these teachings in times of strife. The last of her more redeemable qualities, is how Kayla can make light of a dark situation. She feels this is represented by rapper K'naan, because though the tribulations they experienced were polar opposites, the same end result was bred from struggle. Kayla is a guitar playing, tie-dye wearing, extravert who "takes inspiration from the most heinous of situations, creating medication out of (her) own tribulations", and she is just beginning to make her mark on the world.

Paul is Dead!

In 1969, the rumour "Paul is Dead" was spreading across the world like wildfire. The cover of The Beatles album Abbey Road added fuel to the inferno. Looking at the four memebers, Paul was the only one out of step, drawing attention to him. He was the only one barefoot, the way people are buried in many countries. People speculated that the fab four were walking in specific order... John first, dressed in all white as a religous person would be. Next was Ringo, in all black as the undertaker, followed by a shabby, barefoot Paul, resembling a corpse. George was last, in old blue jeans, as the gravedigger. It was said Abbey Road was a funeral procession. Paul held a cigarette; known as the coffin nail; in his right hand... Any Beatles fanatic knew Paul was left handed, which was the most signifigant clue to those who believed these rumours. It proved it was in fact a replacement Paul and not the real deal. And that's only the front cover of the album. On the back cover, there were 8 dots on a cement wall, which when connected made the number 3, not 4. The otherwise clear image is blurred by a woman, whose elbow, from a distance formed Paul's sillouhette. The lyrics of one of the biggest singles on the album, Come Together say, "He got hair down to his knees". Hair growth continues after death. "He wear no shoeshine", Paul was barefoot."He play toe jam football",a nickname for rugby, which was Paul's favourite sport to play. The most signifigant line in the song said"one and one and one is three', symbolizing the 3 remaining Beatles. For those fans who believed these clues, it validated that Paul McCartney was in fact, dead.