Poetry Slam

The Second Annual, First Biannual Poetry Slam was today. That is to mean; last year we had the first one, and, with the incentive of extra credit, it was a resounding success. So this year we mean to have two. Today's was barely worthwhile, but barely does rightfully imply that it was worthwhile all the same. The Open-Mike was a neat addition; Layla read "Tech Support" and took the slam - not as powerfully as Haoran did last year, but it wasn't an original piece. Haoran also scored again; as did Alex, Angie Gao, Connie Tsai, and Billie Liao. There may be a rule that no white people can win. No, I don't mean just to whine by saying that; although there are only two or three white people who entered. Ah, well.

I got nice comments on my poem, but didn't score to well from the judges. That's fine by me; my poem was short, snide, sarcastic, biting, pointed, composed in less than ten minutes a year ago, and thrown into the competition at the last minute to even things out. It also probably didn't help that the group it made fun of and cut down WAS poets, teen-poets to be specific, so it's less than ideal to enter into a teen-poetry-slam, if you want to be pragmatic. I'm sure I've posted it before, but here it is again to freshen memories;

I wear the mask that grins and lies,
It lies to hide my awful eyes,
It grins to mask my pitted skin,
The sight of which kills lesser men.

I may look sad, I may look cold,
But if the mask were backwards-rolled,
I'd stand still changeless before thee -
In dear-bought truth, the mask wears me.