can we cast our shadows alone in the dark?
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Sunday, August 10, 2003 drama. I went to my new school orientation this past Thursday night. I met a bunch of cool people, and got established with my teachers and whatnot. I also got my schedule, which included 2 open periods at the end of the day. So I walk over to the academic advisor's office and ask him what I could do for those 2 periods. He said I could pick any of the available electives. And wouldn't you know it, drama and acting were still open. I used to have my own TV show in Jacksonville (Small Talk), so I am more than accustomed to the idea of acting in front of a camera. Besides, I love being on stage and I love being the center of attention (who doesn't?), so this is nothing new to me. Drama class is just an overview of the subject. Acting is where the real acting takes place. The class will perform a play twice at the end of every semester, and all students are required (I think) to participate in some form or fashion. On Thursday night, after the main assembly in the gym was over, we ran a simulated day, with 2 minutes in between classes (as opposed to 4) and 5 minute classes (as opposed to 44). It was 8th period that I met my acting instructor, whose name escapes me now. The first thing she gave us was summer homework. Joy. She says, "Welcome to acting. Have a 2 to 5 minute monologue prepared for Monday. It can be anything." I'm thinking, "Alright, cool. No problem." The first thing that popped in my mind was my all-time favorite piece of poetry, by Steve Coleman. I've memorized it already. I Wanna Hear a Poem I wanna hear a poem I wanna learn something I didn’t know I wanna say "yes" at the end, because I'm sick of saying "so?" I wanna hear a poem about who you are And what you think And why you slam Not a poem about me and my poem Because I know who I am I wanna hear a love poem A sad poem An "I hate my dad" poem A dream poem An "I'm not what I seem" poem An "I need" poem An "I also bleed" poem An "I'm alone" poem An "I can't find my home" poem I just wanna hear a poem I wanna hear a poem about revolution About fists raised high And hips twisting in a rumble like a rumba I wanna follow the footsteps of Chè And hear the truth about the days of CIA killed the mumba I wanna hear a poem about struggle So that when I open my mouth, I can step outside myself I wanna listen to no less than the sounds of protest In the factories where workers sweat and make Air Jordans and Pro-Keds because If you wanna take shots at people Target Phil Knight and Bill Gates Contemplate how They own the products And they got the goods How they act like they care But they're just Robin Hoods I wanna hear a poem where ideas kiss similes so deeply that metaphors get jealous Where the subject matters so much that adjectives start holding pro-noun rallies at city hall Because I wanna hear a poem that attacks the status quo That attracts the claps of the cats with the fattest flows That makes the crowd pass the hat And pack my cap with a stack of dough I wanna hear a poem that makes this audience yell “hoooo!” (hoooo!) Because I wanna guess your favorite color Then craft rhyme schemes out of thin air I wanna hear a poem about why the statute of limitations for rape is only five years I wanna hear a poem I wanna feel a poem I wanna taste a poem Give me your spot on the mic if you wanna waste a poem I wanna Hear A poem -Steve Colman, 1998 Slam Champion I'm really looking forward, not so much to school, but to doing my little slice of slam poetry. Who knows if they've even heard of slam poetry. They will after Monday. and one by one, I drowned all the people I had been... overthought at 3:04:00 PM by a hole in the world |
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