Christopher Pendergraft

I’m an observer.  I like to observe things from afar, watching the progression of events and how it affects the participants. In staying true to my nature, this is exactly what I’ve been doing with the poetry scene in Wilmington. I’ve attended and enjoyed 4 poetry slam contests at mostly wine bar but part-time cultural arts powerhouse, The Bottega, and while I regularly found myself in awe of the competitors’ inventive wordplay and sharp delivery, there remained a constant, searing niggle crackling away in the back of my head.

I don’t consider myself a poet by any means and I felt guilty for having these thoughts as a result. I often feel like an impostor hiding within the scene with no right to judge those who’ve dedicated their life to the craft. However, after monitoring some of the other attendees’ reactions as to how the contest was being run, I realized that a line was drawn that separated the attendees into two factions: the writers of traditional poetry, and those who write poems made for the spoken word.

My guilt vanished as others began to voice their opinions, albeit quietly and amongst like-minded individuals. To us, it was clear that the judges were obviously biased toward the spoken word poets, who, in my opinion, relied heavily on wordplay and delivery rather than substance to drive the audience’s emotions. That’s not to say their poems were devoid of any deeper philosophical meaning, as the poems did contain powerful messages. It’s just that the poems appeared loaded with extraneous material ultimately leading to a strong punchline containing the central theme. One could tell that the traditional style poets, however, meticulously chose each word carefully to ensure it related to the overall theme, leading to a more condensed, introspective and (again, in my own opinion) compelling poem.

The situation reminded me of the lyrics from one of my favorite songs, “Hook,” by Blues Traveler:

It doesn’t matter what I say
So long as I sing with inflection
That makes you feel that i’ll convey
Some inner truth of vast reflection
But I’ve said nothing so far
And I can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don’t matter who you are
If I’m doing my job, its your resolve that breaks

With the judges basically snubbing all traditional styled poetry, many of the participants (and the audience) became disheartened. A number of people ended up leaving, mostly disgruntled participants that didn’t make it to the following round. A participant I spoke with summarized the situation perfectly when he conveyed how shocked he was when he received such a low score after the audience garnered him with a good response after he read. To him, making a habit of favoring one style over the other would only harbor bad blood between the stylists and eventually stifle creativity and diversity.

Even the host felt the tension, but did nothing to alleviate it. Instead, in response to overhearing a comment made against the spoken word stylists, he responded with the low blow, “We can’t keep copying Shakespeare. This isn’t your grandmother’s poetry.”

Many people (myself included until recently) find poetry too “artsy” and inaccessible for their tastes. Perhaps the host believes that spoken word style poetry, given it’s similarity to rap, will open the doors to those long prejudiced against poetry.

If that’s the case, the final question we must ask ourselves is:

Is this the beginning of an evolution, or a revolution?