Poem Designed to Lose me Points at a Slam

Note: This is a slam piece, which kind of bends and pokes fun at the rules of slam poetry. Again, meant to be read aloud, or heard.



I want you all to imagine a bassline
The kind you get with beatnik stereotypes
Walking up and down the frets to the rhythm of
Ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss.

Cause I’m not allowed to use music
But that don’t mean I won’t abuse it,
I’ve employed a subconscious variant
And if you say I used it? Prove it.
And if you like the bassline? Use it
Get your body up and move it
Turn this slam into a dance
And let the bassline get you groovin’

Ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss

It says “no props” in my instructions
Only vocal form and function
Is it accessible by all? It is?
Then use it in conjunction
With the words that come erupting
As a vocalized expulsion
But now I give my props to you
And still the penalties can’t touch me

Ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss

See rules are great for breaking
Even though I’m just bending and faking
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed
By madness, starving, hysterical, naked.

That one might get me disqualified…

Only original works, no covers
It’s just an homage for poetry lovers
Ginsberg shouldn’t inspire attack
Or should I be quoting Kerouac?

Bassline off!

It’s something I’ve heard said numerous times already
And I love the concept, and honestly don’t care if I lose points on this poem.
Because remember – there are points in poetry, but no poetry in points.

Okay Bassline On!

Ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss, ts-ts tsss

I like to think of myself as clever
With a touch of ego for good measure
I’ve been called an arrogant prick
But it’s the nickname that I treasure
There’s just one rule that I can’t sever
And I’ve been writing for forever
My friends, I’m just not good enough
To get this poem to 3:11.