 So we noticed something about the difference between the two flutes. You have the fine instrument, and you have Dachan's flute. What he can do with that is he can swell the sound. He can make it bigger. The dynamics in his instrument are what we have in our voices. And today's workshop really is as much about exploring the dynamic of the voice and the dynamic of attitude, as well as the actual words on the page. We're talking about slam. Slam poetry, if there is such a thing, is really the presentation of one's own written original work with an audience where a few people have been chosen at random to act as judges and to give scores. It's a joke. It's like teachers grading our papers. It's hello. So that's the fun of it. And it was invented in Chicago by a man named Mark Smith who went to the local bar. He was a construction worker. And nobody would come to his poetry readings. You know, poetry readings where people sit on their hands as if they're in church. And he went to the manager of the Green Mill and said, you're a little slow here on Monday nights. How about we have poetry competition? And we'll give it a name for hype. We'll call it slam. And his goal was to try to interest his fellow construction workers in attending poetry readings. The poet has three minutes on stage, no more. That really adds to the experience for the audience because they're not listening to one voice over and over. But it's also the experience for the writer because the audience knowing that they're only going to have this person for three minutes or less are especially attentive. And so the writer has really the gift of an audience that's truly listening. So that's why I like slam. And after years and years of writing and publishing in small press magazines, never knowing if anybody had ever read anything that I'd written, I learned of slam an opportunity to get direct feedback from the expressions of people in the audience whether my poem is actually making any sense at all. So that's it. I write as fast as I possibly can. I have my own form of shorthand. I encourage you to develop that so that you can write faster than you can think. The reason for this is because we want to suspend the critical mind and try to find language that surprises us. So you go anywhere you want to because it's yours. And there's no reason to assume that you know where you're going until after a certain period of time is over. Then you back away from it, wait three or four weeks, go back into your notebook, find that piece, and you will see it as a stranger if you have not re-read it as soon as you wrote it. That takes a certain amount of discipline. But if you think you've written a masterpiece and you immediately re-read it, you freeze it in your mind. You can't approach it as the critical stranger that is your potential audience. So I want to have us do that kind of quick writing. And I run this as a race to see who can write the most, not the best in seven minutes' time. And because it's a race, we all start with our pencils way up in the air. No bad elbows, that would give you a head start. There's no way to do it wrong. If you don't like the words I give you as a writing prompt, if you don't like them, forget it, write what you want to write. Everybody ready? The prompt, flying above my childhood home. Oh, no, lady back there trying to get a head start. Don't look around as if it's somebody else. It's you, sweetheart. Flying above my childhood home, get set. Price goes to the longest piece, not the best. Spelling and neatness do not count. Right, half a second, 16th, 32nd of a second, 64th, 128th, 256th. Time's up. Good. Anybody have any luck with that? You know, you get your hands in shape if you do this every day. And what I love is that if you hold the pen a certain way, you begin to develop a writer's muscle. And I love to go to schools and ask kids to show me their writer's muscle. It's a way of making physical contact, which is without being threatening. And the girls, you know, they'll hold out their writer's muscle this way. But the boys are all in. Let's try another one. Pencil's up. Yeah. No way to do it wrong. Seven minutes. Perhaps it was the clams. Get set. Right. I want you to look over the longer of the two. This is violating the three-week rule. Admire your creativity, the extraordinary results of only seven minutes. Fill with it a little bit. You know, cross the t's, dot the i's. Make sure it's legible to you. And make any small revisions you wish to. The longer of the two. Well, we've got to figure out who wrote the longest piece. I did say prize goes to the longest piece. I guess the best way to do that would be for each of us to read our longer piece aloud. Lauren, we'll all do it at the same time. So we're going to make some cacophony. You know the sound of the orchestra warming up before? It is such wonderful music. And what happens is that it funnels down to just a few voices, and then maybe there's a duet. And sometimes you can actually follow what's happening in that duet, and then just one voice. If you are that one voice, do not back off, but actually pump it up, because the rest of us will live the rest of our lives by your final words. So if everybody will stand with their piece in hand, now there's only one rule. And that is when you're done, you freeze. You don't allow your page to rattle. You certainly don't sit down, and you don't turn to the person next to you and say how weird that was. Because we want to hear that funneling down of sound. And finally, the winner, the person with the longest piece. On the count of three, a one, a two, a one, two, three, hit it. I see the, my childhood home, I see the Starlings that troubled my father, still in the mulberries, still stealing raspberries, even though the new owners have left the garden, go to weeds. Above the only clouds, each with its own idea where they're next to float, and below those Starlings and the new family, a barbecue. Dad with his apron at the fire pit, and mom sloshed in the lawn chair. She's got a problem. No one discusses that I would talk to her if only I could get an introduction. These are complicated times. I yell down, and they look up, the Starlings flutter, startled Starlings and the little girls, potential Starlings themselves, gather at their mother's feet. What's your name? Say again? Johnny. Johnny. And Emily the runner up, give it up for her too. So that's kind of what I know. Now we talk about the elements of performance and the importance of eye contact, which along with projection are the two things that I really believe make a difference in this world. So I'm going to ask you, again we'll do this in cacophony, and I'm going to ask you to risk taking your eyes off the page and looking into mine, or into the person's next to you, or to turn around and give some eye contact to somebody in the back of the room. Flying above my childhood home, I see the Starlings that troubled my father still in the mulberries. See how easy it is? It's just a matter of allowing yourself to slow down and lift and give the words from the page to your audience. On the count of three, one, two, one, two, three, hit it. Flying above my childhood home, I see the Starlings that troubled my father still in the mulberries, still stealing raspberries, even though the new owners have let the garden go to weeds. Above me only clouds, each with its own idea. Who next to float and below those stars? And the new family. Dad with his apron at the fire pit, and mom with his apron standing in the lawn chair. She's got a problem. No one discusses, though. I would talk to her if only I could get an introduction. These are complicated times, I yelled at them. And they look up the Starlings' flutter, startled Starlings and the little girls, potential Starlings themselves gather at their mother's feet. This is the sound of the birds. It sounds like a meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. A meerkat. Take a minute. I don't know if the audience would give me enter in the week first, week pretty pretty, and return to their old staying houses. All right. Good. Y'all sit down. Oshin shares the same fate as Diego, but we took a longer road. I wonder if Tyrana-Noe is as wondrous as I say, while winter rain trickled down the gutter pipes keeping time of my thrust insider. I think if Diego was alive today if his heart hadn't exploded inside his chest and that leaf cluttered long he would light up a cigar for me and for the man himself and exhale ghosts of smoke into my face laughing that hearty laugh telling stories I've already heard and sang to me from his gut that one line I've written was mighty grand. He was burned to ash in the fall Oshin disintegrated in the legend his ashes who knows might have been green. I longed for an Ireland that never existed an America that couldn't be. I longed for a country where angels appeared to guide and save where fairies steal children and you can identify them by their emerald eyes. I believe in myths and verses I believe in mermaids and Jesus Christ the Savior. I want to turn to dust like my father's after a long and compassionate life with eyes that have seen the guts of mettle institutions and glorious kingdoms alike. I want to turn to dust scattered somewhere hushed with snowfall somewhere by an angry body of water where the waves won't even feel me enter and the weepers weep briefly returned to their old friend houses. So when you when you get upon as heartfelt as that it's really hard to offer critique because you don't want to mess with something that is so deeply felt. The one thing I'd want from you Johnny you've got that line I think if Diego were alive today am I getting that right? There's like four lines before that that you delivered so wonderfully set the mood and all I want you to do is to read the first eight lines of the poem. When you get to the part where I think if Diego were alive today just before that I want a pause a really long pause so that the words settle in and then that line comes in and hits us right here and just do it just so you're experiencing that pause. Go ahead. Oshin shared the same fate as Diego though he took a longer road. I wonder if Tiranoke is as wondrous as they say or if Neve's breasts are as full and cream colored as this broad I once rolled around with in Long Meadow Massachusetts while winter rain trickled down the gutter pipes keeping time with my thrusts and cyber. I think if Diego was alive today if his heart had an exploded inside his chest and that weave cluttered lawn he would light up a cigar for me and for the man himself and exhale ghosts of smoke into my face laughing that hearty laugh telling stories I've already heard and saying to me from his gut that one line I've written was mighty grand. He was burned to ash in the fall. Oshin disintegrated in the legend his ashes who knows might be green. I longed for an Ireland that never existed an America that couldn't be. I longed for a country where angels appear to guide and save where fairies steal children and you can identify them by their emerald eyes. I believe in myths and verses. I believe in mermaids and Jesus Christ the Savior. I won't turn to dust like my father's after a long and compassionate life with eyes that have seen the guts of mental institutions and glorious kingdoms of life. I want to turn to dust scattered somewhere hush with snowfall somewhere by an angry body of water where the waves won't even feel me enter and the weepers weep briefly and return to their oak-framed houses. You're a good man. Thank you. My pause was just right, just right. You might even find another place in there where you could work in another another pause but you know that poem is like ooh it's a good one you know thank you yeah who's next you are yes is that Nicole I don't recognize you with your hat on. Give it up for Nicole. I know that I shouldn't let myself dwell in the sadness and I hear in those women that I should just cope with it and I hear in those men suck it up and fucking deal. Maybe it's wrong to think about it but it's better than this it is a plausible alternative instead of having withered away from cancer and chemo side effects dad could be in witness protection program it could have all been makeup it could have all been lighting it could have just been psychological manipulation counting on my sadness to block me from seeing the truth what if my grief is just a small sacrifice for your safety right now he's riding in the back of a Sikorsky HH 60 Pave Hawk rescue helicopter he's instructing his team on this mission to save the final victim of serial killer by dad's calculation she has 47 minutes to live and his plan will take 36 to execute he'll comfort her while I put dinner tonight I do understand that we had an open casket at the funeral I remember clearly tugging on my black sweater clung in all the wrong places I remember as they said I'm so sorry for your loss that I heard go ahead and try to fucking breathe but it's the government the secret part of it even they can convince us of anything I imagine them finally returning him to us and I can't wait to be angry that his lies put me through that what strengths in that performance Chris energy am I the only one that wants her to stand still when she's so she's going to do it again this time I'm going to hold for her and when you take a step make it for real because it's coming from the poem not from your nervousness okay you know the whole thing is to fool yourself into believing that you can pull it off that's you know what I heard an actor say on the radio a couple years ago he says before I go on stage every time I have to fool myself into believing that I can be the character that I'm supposed to play this is it I'm sorry but it might be a little different because you told me it was okay to edit as I went sure okay if I'm being I do think about it I know I shouldn't let myself dwell on the sadness I hear I hear those women say just cope with it and I hear those men say just fucking up and deal just whatever maybe it's wrong to think about it but it's better than this it is a plausible alternative dad might be a spy in the government that just went into witness protection instead of withering in a combination of cancer and chemo side effects it was makeup and lighting psychological manipulation counting on my sadness to block me from seeing the truth my grief is a small sacrifice for your safety right now he's riding in the back of a Sikorsky h8 60 pav Hawk search and rescue helicopter he's instructing his team on the mission to save the most recent victim by a serial killer his he's his calculation says the girl will be alive for 47 minutes and his rescue plan will take about 36 he'll be comforting her while I cook dinner I do understand that we had an open casket at the funeral I remember clearly how I chugged the black sweater that clung in all the wrong places I remember well the well-meaning mourners saying I'm so sorry for your loss which really sounded like go ahead and try to fucking breathe it's the government though the secret part of it even they can convince us of anything I imagine them finally returning him to us and I can't wait to be angry that he put us through this yeah yeah so let's try and experiment more cacophony and this time I want you to whisper your poem whisper your poem remembering the eye contact but and trying to project even though it's a whisper I don't know what it's going to sound like but it might be entertaining you might as well stand on the count of three oh one but two oh one two three hit it flying above my child troubled my father still in the mulberries still stealing raspberries even though the new owners have left the garden go to weeds above me only clouds each with its own idea where next to float and go to weeds those stars and the new family a barbecue dad with his apron at the fire pit and mom sloshed in the long chair she's got a problem no one discusses that I would talk to her if only someone would give me an introduction these are complicated times I yell down and they look up the starlings flutter startled starlings and the little girls potentials starlings themselves gather at their mother's feet alright Emily all right down again so what we're doing now is we're thinking about the different ways of vocalizing the words when I come to a four letter word in a poem I try to underplay it rather than yell it because it's foul enough itself that it doesn't need any exaggeration when I come to a line that I think might be funny used to be that I would raise my voice so everybody would get the joke and Roger Winegarden do you know Roger Baron Roger said to me I said I don't know why nobody laughs at my joke perhaps tomorrow they will be cold enough to help he said Jeff underplay it and it'll work and it's true so sometimes the impulse you want to reverse the impulse just for experiment so the next volunteer we're going to ask I contact as well as vocal variety who is that person you're on please and your name is damn damn please put your hands together for that Cooper step and I wish I hadn't said the damn dog that day that day of all days and anyone knows that I loved him more than anybody but you were talking and screaming and yelling and I couldn't hear myself concentrate and I guess I was trying to prove that I loved you to more than the dog so I said I'm not gonna get us killed because you're messing around with that damn dog that was hours before his eyes started drooping and brown stuff started streaming from his nose and he didn't want to walk so I had to push the baby and you had to carry him home the whole way and he was drooping off the couch and I went upstairs and he followed me up gasping for breath and when we went to the hospital they kept him longer than they had to just to prove that they had really done everything that they could and I waited until they said I'm sorry to scream yeah okay what would you tell her slow down and I don't know if you to me it sounded all one tone so if you slow down you may get more of hints as to when to emphasize or when to also when we try try it again Cooper step and I wish I hadn't picked that day to say that damn dog of all days and everyone knows that I loved him more than anyone could but you were screaming yelling and carrying on and I couldn't hear myself think and I guess I wanted to make sure that you guys knew that I loved you more than I love the dog so I said I'm not gonna get us killed because of that damn dog yeah so I had to push the baby and you had to carry him home the whole way that was hours before that brown stuff started streaming from his nose and we got there and I started walking up the stairs and and he followed me up gasping for breath and I felt the guilt that had never had in my life and when we got to the hospital they held him in there longer than they needed to just so that we would know that they had done everything that they could do and I waited until they said just scream yeah because for me the second time and I could hear different things I didn't have but I want to hear with you I just sort of let myself be in the moment instead of worrying about the words nice job and really that's all you need is somebody to tell you how to make it different and you do it differently and you discover something new and then you rehearse that and maybe your friend tells you another way that you might alter it and you try that sometimes I like to lead people to the ridiculous you know make fun of your poem get up there and just really flying above my childhood home because what happens is you push yourself to extremes and then you know where that extreme is and you can draw yourself back from that to where it maybe doesn't seem like a performance but instead and this is what I felt in that second reading that you were there at the moment of the actual composition of the poem and that's what I think is the best performance is where the pacing and the feeling are as if they're happening for the first time in the pole in the poet's mind who's next yeah your name is Sean I know you Sean give it up for him you stare overboard a day's a day's meal once now a fish's banquet go the waves carry it away down to the death below Montezuma's revenge some grip some sight seasickness to but I know the truth cold-blooded revenge from those clams we caught that June it stabbed at my insides let them fire with those prenatal pearls their tongues roiled in the acidity so each one each one's death have been avenged screaming you'll rue the day you're crossed man so there they go back to the blue from which they'd forcibly come to their brethren down below oh god they're done so this is what happens to me before I go on stage I realize that I'm half untucked and I'm getting on stage like this you were doing that you know you have this thing happening over there yeah so if I have my feathers together I try to remember all of that before I get up there and then I really police myself so we're going to do what we did a little earlier and all by the way that is the weakest position now if that's the persona that you're going for you can do whatever you want but I don't think so all right please give it up for Sean Sean let your hands just dangle at your side no no so uncomfortable do you think I'm having a good time do you think Sean is no don't trap your hands you feel like a doofus yeah it's all but it's all there man because even though you feel like a doofus what's happening is right yeah you're gonna feel the gesture in your loose hands but if your hands are trapped any of that the gesture is completely lost if you have no gesture it's fine but you'll feel that if it's there one more time for Sean a day's meal once now a fishes banquet go the waves carried away down to the depths below Montezuma's revenge some would quip some site seasickness too but I know the truth cold-blooded revenge from those clams we'd caught that June they'd stabbed at my insides let them afire with those prenatal pearls their tongues roiled in this the acidity till each one had each death had been avenged screaming you'll rue the day you crossed me so there they go back to the blue from which they'd forcibly come to join their brethren down below oh god they're not done that's it and when you got to the word Montezuma's revenge your voice took on real gravity which was wonderful you know that's the kind of vocal variety that we're ideally hoping for who's next yes please your name is Lizzie the shadow of a brand-new dawn I celebrate survival transformation and the human spirit from the death throws a street corner to the piece of my own living room from the crack house to the house of a living god yeah I used to be dwelling in the place now I'm a dwelling place glory be to God from being beat down brand-new birth which song I sing drinking one vessel see I told it on the mountain through the fire next time amen rope my way through insanity hanging out mr. rhythm and mama respite on the front line then this God shall get them this night shall lose so though and it's still good new my way through the dog in the dog to the darkest place I've ever known the essence of God and darkness and clothes I live in God yo homies check this it's butters butters butter it's smooth it's better to be saved hip-hopping with the Lord for God is a spirit and they then worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth the truth is you can't figure me out the smoke has cleared smoke of addiction abuse loneliness and despair and they asked me right at Christmas if my blackness would it rub off I said as your mom and the smoke my sisters died age 32 and 53 if we must die they're not be like hogs pinned in some inglorious spot my father died in the big Apple Motel pinned according to your standards I live to celebrate no longer according to anybody standards with song is I say as long as I keep my head to the sky and so I celebrate survival transformation and the human spirit as I rise to the will of meanest baby dog as I rise yeah you see what a brilliant teacher I am thank you Lizzie that was great has anybody got anything to tell Lizzie to make it better more of it there was you know toward the end you took on a little bit of a British accent did I hear that thank you thank you so much wow who's next you are and give it up and thank you I began I was not being you were tired to it she said you look so much like the kids confuse us and in the morning with sad looks they leave for school unsettled I wish to be more gentle I tell her I do I know children need their sleep but screaming. I feel so guilty when you do that, please. Just part of the service she assured me and swirled on out the door with graceful ease. Now I'm a little hard of hearing, so I didn't get everything. I want you to project it just a little bit louder, okay? Crazy lady came to my house last night and kindly made the children go to bed. Thank you. I began, and with the snap of her gun, it was nothing. You are tired, Toots, she said. You look so much alike. The kids can confuse us. And in the morning with sad boots, they leave for school unsettled. I wish you'd be more gentle, I tell her, targeting at her sleep. I know the children need their sleep but screaming. I feel so guilty when you do that, please. Just part of the service she assured me and swirled on out the door with graceful ease. Yeah, you are right. Thank you. You're so well composed on stage. I mean, you just really are there, which is kind of what I was, you know, I wanted Nicole to sort of see that. And yet, at the same time, there's no law against moving on stage. It's just that it needs to be purposeful. And you're, you know, just plain solid there with your poem. It really works for me. We got time for one more. Who is it? Yes. And your name is? I want to hear it for Charlie. Perhaps it was the clams that day at Ender's picnic in July. I've set my stomach. Maybe it was because the salad that we ate. Perhaps it was because it was 105 in the shade. God only knows. Perhaps it was my nerves ran amuck. Perhaps it was the walrus from Alice in Wonderland. It was on my mind dancing oysters following me as I signed Mamma Mia. Too much. It was all just too much to bear. Perhaps it was the idea of no television, no paper and limited access to social media that it made me so ill. I'm beginning to know. Maybe it was a claustrophobic showers of which Mandy speaks. Perhaps it's the idea of losing Shannon in my residencies that has me so upset. Yes, that's it. God, what the hell do I do now? Yeah, good job, Charlie. Perhaps it was the idea of losing Shannon. You know, right there you had the kind of vocal variety within the poem that I'm always looking for. You know, I just felt it right here. And I'm wondering whether there's another place in that poem where you would also put that out. You know, just the idea of that vocal shift and the sense of the sincerity of the statement really came through to me. I don't know whether it's just me or whether others felt that too. I see him nodding. Thank you so much.