Manx Litfest Poetry Slam 2020Yaaaaas! Won back my crown with my second win at the Manx Litfest poetry slam earlier this month. Thanks to all involved, especially Bridge Carter. This inspirational lady deserves recognition. She has single-handedly raised the bar for poetry on the Isle of Man and given so many of us poets a platform to perform. Anyway, obviously I don't really know how to win at a poetry slam as there are so many variables. I do, however, reckon it's a bit of an art. I've therefore compiled some humble observations to share... Read on if you wanna know more. 1. The passion play of poetry slamsIf you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write. Martin Luther. OK, so here's the first thing. Why do any of us write at all? Ask yourself that question again because I reckon it's something we writers occasionally overlook. The thing is, entering a poetry slam takes guts. The chances are you'll be up against some proper seasoned hard nuts when it comes to performance poetry. Any of them could win. To give yourself the edge, being a nifty wordsmith or telling a quirky story usually isn't enough. What your poem needs is a purpose. Whether that's to amuse, educate, inspire or excite, it can help to think about the message you want to communicate. Here's what I mean... I've entered 6 slams. I've won 2, been unplaced in 2, came third and then joint 4th in a couple of tough international ones on Zoom. The 4th placement was the most interesting from a working it all out point of view as you got to see your scores (yaargh). I got knocked out in the second round with one of my favourite to perform fantastical pieces. The girl who beat me (she eventually came 2nd), had a woe is me mental health tale. Personally, I didn't buy it, but from a strategic position she was strong. Fantasy versus bearing your soul. There's a reason you can buy Heat and Take A Break at M & S checkout - and not the best of Terry Pratchett. My latest slam win I wrote in 45 minutes - mostly in the bath (annoying), after trying and trying to write for about 2 days and nothing coming. Incidentally, I don't like the poem. It's too raw, too real, too personal, was really bloody hard to deliver and made me deathly nervous. I also don't think it's that well-written, though it is clear, to the point and well-structured (which is probably why it felt so unfamiliar lol). For all these reasons, as soon as I'd written it I knew it was the one - not to win, just to perform. In 3 minutes it built an argument that expressed everything everyone's been ignoring me about for years - about how to successfully take your health into your own hands. And because it was an experience I'd lived so profoundly, it did that powerfully. I know, I should give it more love. And a title. TaTaTaboo. My 2017 Manx Litfest Poetry Slam win eventually developed into On Ravensdale Hill. I aired this 16 minute epic at Dark Horse Festival 2018 (pictured above), and 2019. Thanks to the Arts Council this tale will soon be published! 2. Know thy audienceA writer, I think, is someone who pays attention to the world. Susan Sontag. The truth? It wasn't until I started copywriting that I really got this and yes, it's similar to the above point but more poignant. It's basically going beyond having a message, to having a message that has value for your audience... and your slam audience, remember, is not generally other poets. I once judged on a slam panel where I was the only poet. Not knowing what I know now about slams, I was really confused by the scores the other judges gave. For me it was all about a pro performance and having great writing. For everyone else it was about relevance. So for example, back in 2018 I entered the slam with my 2nd Penny piece. I was proud of my performance but I didn't place. My fantastical Penny had no particular message and no particular relevance to my audience. I've a load of Penny poems now. I use them on Penny murder mystery nights - set them to music, dress up, get into character, and the ones that aren't about undead Victorian whores (I know. No, I don't. I don't know), I perform for kids. Now to kids fantastical stuff is relevant - especially when performed by someone who loves kids and loves to entertain, which brings me to... oh, oh, oh! Entertainment. That word! See, I've known people whinge when they don't get placed in slams. I've whinged, but stuff has to entertain. If you haven't observed your audience, if you don't speak to them and for them, then no matter how clever, quirky, or (to you), pertinent your poem, it probably won't win. I know, I've been there. Penny was smart. Penny was clever. Penny was an undead whore seduced by the Devil. I fucking love Penny, but in the context of the slam no one else did because she's mostly just an exercise in alliterative and idiomatic wankery. A wild and violent poem about triumph over adversity however, (TaTaTaboo - 2017 win), or a heartfelt and empowering Untitled poem about... ahem, argh... bit of a theme... triumph over adversity (2020 win)... Oh though, whilst we're here, yes, yes, yes to quirky and funny. In fact, I performed my poem to two poetic friends before the slam and both said exactly the same thing: 'it's great but it won't win. It's not funny or quirky enough.' True story. Funny is relevant. We all need funny. In fact, to me funny is the pinnacle of relevant. I bow to anybody who writes and performs poetry - but writers who make me proper belly laugh, I worship. Couple well-written funny with a message that everyone gets and you're onto a winner. I'm proud of my achievements over the last few years. If there was one thing though that would make me feel I'd won not just a slam but the whole world, it would be to win with a funny poem. Sadly, I'm not that clever. Sorry, couldn't resist. I just love that trophy. Also, how amazing to have master photographer and poet Janet Lees take my pic and get a good shot. Though a gorgeous venue, the lighting for pics in that place was a flipping killer! 3. Pitch perfect poetry slam performanceYou are not being judged. The value of what you are bringing to the audience is being judged. Seth Godin on performance. A slam is supposed to be judged on your poem's performance and content. However, I'm going to argue that I side with Seth here. Your content is 90% your performance. And I say this as someone who once had stage fright so severe I had to extend my course at Music College - by a whole year.
I learnt about performance the hard way - and I appreciate every step of that journey. It taught me the value of content (made me practice that damn trombone till I couldn't get a note wrong. Well, I can, and I do, in fact, nowadays I'm a pretty messy player, but... you get the idea). I still get bursts of horrific stage fright by the way. I just follow the maxim 'fail to prepare, prepare to fail,' sometimes fail on both counts, but refuse to let it beat me. 'But nerves make me stutter, stumble and forget my words' I hear you cry. I know, and if I was judging your slam piece you'd be stuffed because I like things slick and pro (I forgot my words twice at this slam hahahah - that's the thing. The stuff you think matters sometimes doesn't when people like your content. Yes, weird world). OK, I've got to sum up because I'm back in the bath and it's cold and awkward to type. Listen, slam wins are ultimately in the hands of the gods (the judge gods), and I was planning on finishing by saying there are no hard and fast rules to winning a slam. But I've judged and been judged and I no longer think this is the case. Real poets - page poets, are often reported as hating slams. They think slams aren't highbrow enough and more about showmanship than writing because the judges aren't qualified to judge. In reality I don't think anything could be further from the truth. Good performance comes from good, compelling writing that amuses, educates, inspires or blows away your audience. A piece you and your audience can both relate to. And heck, if you can master that then honestly, I absolutely promise you, whether you get that trophy or not matters not one jot. You're already a winner.
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Turning Glass turns to stars - poetry 'n' music Dadah! Here's Stardust - our second Turning Glass single. Turning Glass is a poetry to music project my mate Jo and I began post Isle of Man lockdown. Jo's from our little rock but living in London and has been my mate FOREVER. She came back to the Island in August - long story. Anyway, we both needed a bit of actual, proper music therapy and Turning Glass was born. It proved the perfect antidote to what was a truly SHIT time. It was a complete surprise. I had no idea AT ALL that Jo wrote such funky electronic music and I think my poetry used to freak her out... So I don't quite know how all this came together - but glad it did :) (That pic up there btw is us a VERY long time ago. In fact, it was the taken the night before I met Ed my husband - when us Douglas Butties crashed a hippy campout in Sulby. It was an interesting night. We drank shed loads of cider and met Simon Buttimore (RIP) and Dave the Tree - who were LOVELY and invited us into a sweat lodge. Which was fun, though a couple of people were naked which was a bit surreal to our young, pissed up selves. The rest of the hippies were a bit rude but we didn't care. We were from Douglas and hard (not really :) The Wildness of Birds by Turning Glass - beats, beats, poetic feats... or maybe even... treats...(Oh go on then, I'll stick this here too - no one will look :) The Wildness of Birds is Turning Glass's first single (and my fav). We did this entire music project by the way in just 3 weeks (OK - Stardust was slightly later). Our goal was to record a whole heap of stuff in that time AND get air time on Manx Radio. We achieved both! Boom! Then Jo left the Isle of Man and buggered off back to London, though God knows why because months have passed and it's STILL on lockdown! Anyway, yes, the lyrics are a little odd... let me explain. Back in January/ February I was having a ROUGH time and experienced arrrrghghg.... writer's block! The Wildness of Birds therefore began its life as a kind of poetic therapy sequel attempt to On Ravensdale Hill. I sat down one day and forced myself to write and write till SOMETHING emerged. It was a version of the first part of this song. The epic poem I was writing I later rejected as it was waaaay too miserable. I also felt it was a poor man's version of Ravensdale. Maybe I'll resurrect it one day. It's focus was a real life search for my lost Caseius - my wren and spiritual confidante who appears in On Ravensdale Hill. On Ravensdale Hill is made up (obviously - it's about a Phoenix killing a N.P.D. Raven), but Caseius is actually real. I spend a LOT of time wandering the woods, beaches and hills of the Isle of Man. She came as a guide when I was recovering from my second (Psoriatic?) Arthritis relapse. It was Caseius who brought me all the stories that make up On Ravensdale Hill - one of my out and out proudest accomplishments. My mate Keiran says she's a figment of my imagination - haha - she's not! How could she be? She brought me all my poems. There was also a time I felt her around me all the time - like on my chest or my shoulder or hand. She's intense and amazing. She's still here by the way. She's kind of poetry I suppose - fades in and out, sometimes strong, sometimes weak... Hmm... Always there somewhere. She transports me elsewhere and I adore her. The rest of the song is less interesting. The middle verse was taken from words I'd written specifically for our project and taken from a poem about palm seduction (I don't know either. I like hands. Actually, no - wait. I LOVE hands). The last song I wrote literally in 30 minutes just as an ending at Jo's mum's house (good old Babs). I was quite proud of it to be honest. I'm a wicked sea siren so it kind of works :P The trombone is me and... a little out of tune, haha, I'm not a precision technician when it comes to trombone, I just blow it. I think it works though. The singing is me too. Which is weird because I swear I can't sing for toffee. I think after On Ravensdale Hill, this song might be my second proudest writing achievement - though actually, you know, my novels are top really. Oh. My novels, my novels, my novels... I love them so much. I wish I could get them right. Bluebird by Turning Glass - OMG I LOVE how this poem worked out!Ah this was another one of those mad creative spontaneous poetry thingies that happened when Jo was here.
We had LOADS of moments like this but this was SO special. Jo and I have different reasons why this poem makes us cry. She's cagey about sharing it because she thinks it's too sad. I think it's amazing. Her piano playing is GLORIOUSLY PERFECT - and it's also a very special and very devastating poem. I'll never tell you why though. All I will say is there are some proper shits in this world. I'm not cut out for that kind of thing. I think life is about being a good person and making the best of everything. Shit people will go to hell one way or another so I have nothing to say about them once shitting on me event has passed. Poor Bluebird though got caught in the crossfire and messed up big time. Hahahaha. And on THAT happy note, if seriously, you've read this far, thank you and... good night! |