RIT/NTID Culture + Identity in Literature Poetry Slam 2010


Uploaded by NTIDnews on 12.11.2010

Transcript:
>>LUANE: This is the final presentation for my lit class which is Culture and Identity in Lit.
A lot of people have decided to perform their own poems. That’s cool.
Some people have picked poems that they thought matched, really felt comfortable presenting.
So, I’m excited to see what you do.
>>CHARLES: OK. Poems that I’m going to do.
First one is “Rainbow” written by William Wordsworth.
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky:
So it was when life began; So it is now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man; I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
>>ABIGAIL: I feel lost. My soul is nowhere to be found. I want to be around.
Where do I belong? I’m confused. My heart’s all bruised.
Did I make the choice right? I ponder through the night.
There! I see a bright light.
Can it be? My way out. I wanted to shout. But I have my doubt.
I stay quiet through the night. And I sat tight.
>>DACK: Hi! My name is Dack.
I’m going to do a poem called “On His Deafness.”
My ears are deaf, and yet I seem to hear
Sweet nature’s music and the songs of man
For I have learned from Fancy’s artisan
How written words can thrill the inner ear
Just as they move the heart, and so for me
They also seem to ring out loud and free.
In Silent study I have learned to tell
Each secret shade of meaning and to hear
A magic harmony, at once sincere,
That somehow notes the tinkle of a bell,
The cooing of a dove, the swish of leaves,
The raindrop’s pitter-patter on the eaves,
The lover’s sigh, the thrumming of guitar,
And, if I choose, the rustle of a star!
>>ADAM: My name is Adam Van Wezenbeeck.
My poem is called “The Blood”
written by Five Finger Death Punch.
Paint compared to black.
Forget you. I continue to picture of what you look like.
The way you tasted. Your smell. Dead and dry.
>>ALEX: It was a pawn shop.
In the window there’s a gold trumpet. Silver trombone.
Congas. Maracas. Tambourine. All with price tags dangling.
Hmm. Just like the city morgue ticket On a dead man’s toe.
>>JERMAINE: Ah, OK. My poem is called "Wild Nights - Wild Nights" by Emily Dickenson.
Wild nights - Wild nights! If I were with thee
Wild nights should be Our luxury!
>>JOJO: Why cry if I'm free? Why cry? If I'm free? Why cry if I'm free?
Home-cooked meals with my family. Sweet tasting memories.
If I ever return back would I still be the same?
Hoping my history won't fade away.
Why cry if I'm free? Why cry if I'm free? Why cry if I'm free?
>>YIPPIE: The mind chases happiness.
The heart creates happiness.
The soul (laughs) the soul is happiness.
And it spreads happiness everywhere.
>>BRENNDON: I wrote this poem. It's called all around me.
Summer's bright sun rays shine all around me.
Fall's colorful leaves float, twirl all around me.
Winter's snow, like sparkling feathers, float all around me.
Spring's green life drinks in the raindrop splashes all around me.
>>ANNA: She walks in beauty like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and in her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
>>DIONA: It's about a blind person.
The Spring blew trumpets of color. Her Green sang in my brain.
I heard a blind man groping, tap tap, with his cane
I pitied him in his blindness. But can I boast, "I see?"
Perhaps there walks a spirit that walks close by that pities me.
>>KEITH: O say can you see, by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hail As the twilight's last gleaming.
>>MARCOS: My poem is "Fog" and it's written by Carl Sandberg. OK?
The fog comes on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbor and city On silent haunches and then moves on.
>>LUANE: OK everyone, a silly one!