Memeorable: Meme-unchies

So, I know I may have said in the past I don't particularly enjoy slam poetry, but let me share an exception to the average.

Many years back, when I was in High School, one of our theatre compatriots, perhaps even Mario, regaled us with a particularly amusing monologue which he then revealed was actually a slam poetry piece he had heard.

Back then we had a cassette tape recording of it (yes, I know, OLD, cassette tapes for crying out loud, who does that?) and didn't care anymore to find out more about it.

Fast Forward a couple years and I was wondering what to do for an audition piece and thought it would be a hoot to dig up this old story and throw it out on stage. So I had a grand ol' time rooting around the intarwebs and FINALLY found it, in all its glory.

Apparently, homeboy is a local legend in San Jose so I can count him as a fellow coastal/bay area artist, so enough blab, here is performing "Soul Food," enjoy, it's delicious.

and THAT"S why we never have anything to eat, at my house!

Put A Beat Under It

So, I have a confession to make, I don't particularly like Slam Poetry, Spoken Word, or even most poetry, really.

Now, hold up, I DO like SOME poetry, and I do like SOME slam poetry, and even some spoken word. I totally acknowledge that it is an art, a performance art, a viable expression of discourse that should be respected as such.

I, however, have a hard time getting into it, and have honestly never attended any such activities, nor had the inclination to.

And yet, I have this unwavering obsession with Hip-Hop and rap. To even go further, anyone remember back in the late 90's/early "double ots" (2000-2005) when there were a few spoken word poems floating around alternative stations that were like affirmations or that awesome etymology of the "F" word?
(Hey look, I found 'em)

These were great, I enjoyed them. It just seems strange to me that rap and hip hop, something I've been under the impression has shared roots and definite parallels in execution and design, have such appeal to me?

Perhaps it's because when you take the time to craft music and mix it it feels more polished and more well put together? If the "lyrics" suck I can always listen to the music? Or maybe I just haven't had the proper exposure? Maybe I need to immerse myself more in the culture to enjoy it, I know that happened when I took a "Worlds of Jazz" I found some things in that music form that made it more enjoyable. Perhaps I was working under the assumption my previous encounters were samples of exemplary pieces? I could very well be mistaken, and as shown by the few pieces I DO enjoy, its not ALL lame, to me.
Ah, mysteries of the universe, you confuse me so, perhaps a more coherent conclusion next time, but then, those are probably not the things you come to MY blog for eh?

2 Smart Hip Hop Shows

These last couple weeks have been "alternative Hip Hop" heavy.

Monday, Feb. 15nth T1nk & I were up in The City at Cafe Du Nord, a shwanky little place, for the MC Frontalot show (someone whom if you are at this blog you should become familiar with).

Opening act was Ken Flagg (While performing with Front his moniker is Vic20) was good. He had a shout out song called "merced" and I was disappointed to find it was not a depressing song. Flagg has a mellow alternative sound to him, very easy for everyone to listen to.

I really enjoyed Brandon Patton (Blak Lotus). Great songs, great stage presence. Excellent storyteller. When I can afford it I should buy some of his albums. " MUNCHIN THE KOOTCH!"

AND > > > >

FRONT! 2 new singles. Better at Rapping and 1st World Problem from his latest album "Zero Day."
He sang It is Pitch Dark, and a deep cut of Front the Most.
Guests included GMinor7 & MC Lars. The "Encore" was Goth Girls. A blast.

I also got to watch Frontalot have "technical difficulties" while trying to take cards. Since Du Nord is sub-level he had to stand next to the stairs in order to get a solid signal. The approximate quote was "there's a down arrow, no? damnit, work, you fucker" as he waved the phone at the stairway.

----------------------------

Later, Sunday Feb. 21st we found ourselves at The Bottom of The Hill for MC Lars, YTCracker & Kay Flay, with a special surprise guest.

Lars Senior laid down some poetry. Yeah, it was very cool, MC Lars' father was there because it was his 10nth anniversary show and read some prose as an opener.

Next up was a true space man. There was some serious YTCracker love from the central valley as myself and a handful of dudes up front sang along with every song. You could tell just from looking at him YT was a little impressed by us knowing who he was AND loving his music.

Kay flay has mad beats and a new fan in my fiance. This skinny chick just rolled up, threw it down and rocked the house with some alternative, some rap, some beats, some remixes. This girl is a musician in every sense of the word.

Lars was as good as usual, putting all he had into his performance.He was sweating his fool head off but continued to be a true player through the whole set. It was a solid night all the way through.

During his last song, which was Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock, he called for a mosh pit to form. I was impressed by the concert attendees. A very professional mosh pit formed, only the people who wanted to be in it were involved, the wall was not heavily assaulted and it reformed into crowd with no one being badly injured. Kudos to the moshers at The Bottom Of the Hill that night.

Dance of Dizzdillie Pixies

(written for T1nk a few years back, shameless filler! We assure you, real posts are under construction!)

Tony Elfson

12-10-04

A Dance of Dizdillie Pixies

a dark wood, a cautious tread, enter a green, cool glady

before you stands a welcome sight. a most lovely lady

she turns to depart, a quick smirk and wings of sparkling light

your feet move of their own accord as an eerie tune fills the night

you move quite fast as the two of you reach the clearing’s center

you stare into each other’s eyes and you notice a stag move by at a canter

lightning bugs buzz about. or so they appear to be

other creatures of the wood begin to congregate, from the bear to the flea.

she wraps her arms about you, moves to touch your lips with hers

a sharp intake of breath as the night air gently, tree boughs, stirs.

the kiss is sweet, heady and dripping with delight

your eyes open and where the beasts once were, there are woodland spirits all about yoursight.

the tune grows louder, it comes from the wood itself

the tempo winds itself into a jig and all begin to dance. faerie, sprite and elf

the gnome taps with a couple imps while two fae flight about

elves raise their voices in chant but you shall dance with this pixie, there be no doubt.

the reveling, the singing, the dance goes ever on

no time is there, you prance through air, there’s magic in the song

no mortal could replicate this eve, it happens once every nevertime

you were the one, it was told , you’re the son.

this dance will ne’er be done

so you will move and sway with your pixie queen underneath the bright moonshine

Bosun Trent's Two Haul

(Yet another sampling of my nautical themed verse, penned at our weekly Pub outing.)

"Bosun Trent's Two Haul"

Attend, ye dogs, call back, one and all!
(Callback) - Timmeh whey heave one and haul!
Think of the girl you left in port, for good or for foul,
- Timmeh whey, pull m' boys, till the winds howl!
We need to get home lads, put your backs IN
- Timmeh whey backs into it, or we'll have to pull agin!
Keep on it, buckos, steady and true!
- Timmeh whey, HA! Easy call for you.
Till we all get there, or till we all die!
- Timmeh whey, to the deep blue then, says I!

Jace's Lullaby

(I cooked this up for a D&D campaign. My character sings it at night before bed when they make camp, or each night while hes on ship, after the changing of the first eve's watch.)

Jace's Lullaby

My pretty lass, my pretty lass, how I miss your lovely face

You know not who's singin' lass? Tis your darlin' Jace.

My pretty lass, my pretty lass, I long for you to be near

bless my bones my pretty lass, my song can you not hear?

Ahoy my darlin' how have you come to me?

Ye' shant be here, yet I you've found, out upon the sea.

What is wrong my pretty lass? Out of sorts you seem

you gaze off into the distance as if in a dream.

What is that my dear, you have found me at last?

But you were safe in port while I followed the mast.

Oh heavens no, it can not be true.

You threw yourself into the blue.

Alas my dear you know not what you've done

because you've drowned yourself my dear we can not be one.

For when lubers die, they go to heaven or to hell,

And when I pass the Blessed Ilse is where I shall dwell

So, now my love, travel on and take heart

Though forever we must now be apart,

One shall sing for you, your darlin' Jace,

My pretty lass, my pretty lass, keep a smile upon your face.

A Ballad I Ran

A Time or two ago there was a man who traveled afar
He traipsed across the countryside and frequented inns and bars
Through his travels and adventures he gained fortune and fame
A bard, a hero, a scoundrel, Ran Dansin was his name.

For a time he had not been seen in all his home lands
Twas rumored he was in other worlds or simply relaxing on the sands
The world was still young, not all places had been traveled
One merely had to seek out beasts to quickly be unraveled

One of these creatures awoke and sought out destruction
none can recall what it was called, just that it caused great disruption
needless to say it was of an evil way, terrorized and slew
a few tried to get it to die, but none knew exactly what to do

The beast had been sighted near a hamlet, the folks shook with fear
but over the crest of a hill, a merry tune being sung, they did hear
a tall hat with checkered pattern and wear, atop a man with great stride
an overlarge nose, odd cape, boots with red fringe and a rapier at his side.

Turn away traveler, the townspeople warned,
a beast most fowl and its company you should scorn
HA! cried the man, a good song it will make
Bring me your strongest willing bodies and, perhaps some tea and cake?

so assembled, the few of the village who were true
they wondered at this odd man and wondered at his world view
as to the creature, what does it do he inquired after tea
it tears and bites and knocks down walls, none has returned that did see

The crumpets were delicious, he said, but use creme instead of milk
as for this creature, i might be wearing one of its ilk
do you have any remnants from an earlier attack?
why yes, some piped up, our old great uncle, carl and aunt jack

they brought forth a pretty thing of lace and set it below Dansin's face
ah, mayhaps were they tailors and this was their last piece
no it was jacks, the two were lost in the last attack
oh, eheh, gimme a moment to inspect the item, in the meanwhile, have any sack?

so they brought for a jug a few went glug-alug and dansin sat in thought
he turned the fabric this way and that and sniffed it an awful lot
after the booze had been drunk up, he suddenly jumped
i know this creature, ive fought one before and have a trump

he flipped off his hat and placed it upside down and began to dig within it
he cursed and hooted and jumped once or twice, the bottomed seem to have no limit
till finally he pulled out a bottle as well as a fishing pole
and to the questioning looks he replied, im not getting close to it would any of you souls?

he set out to the hillside where the monster was last seen, other brave townies in tow
he hooked the bottle to the pole and set it in a tree, and said, watch how we do this just so
they waited in quiet, they waited in fear, the suspense was great at the time
then it got late, and a few yawned and graped, but then, there was a tug at the line

all of them sweated and strained to see, but the dusk confused their sight
they knew it was the beast from the snarls and teeth against bottle, its bite
Ran just held the pole, line slack and limp, he didnt real or tug, just sat
then the line went taught, the bottle went crash, and the villagers froze where they were at

coughing and wheezing and howling and screaming came from the beast
then slowly but surely the ruckus got quieter and the it made noise the least.
Ran waited an extra moment then said that should do it and just strolled towards the bait
and the people heard him say we live but for this thing, its too late

it took a few minutes for the truth to sink in, but at last the people knew
the thing was no more , they were safe now, for Dansin had slew
but they heard knife against bone and grunt and slash and feared for Ran's life
one brave went to Dansin, but found him knee deep in its blood and in his hand a new bone fife

my companion got the last one, he said with blood on his brow
i only got this belt, but balls to him, i have the set now
the creature was unrecognizable, what it was only Dansin knew
but the leather was supple and its meat made a great stew

at the banquet that morning many inquired what the bottle was
Dansin told them truthfully, it was no more than dandelion and suds
they were dumbfounded, and stunned, to believe many were loath
Ran calmly explained, that that creature was fiercely allergic to both

A Time or two ago there was a man who traveled afar
He traipsed across the countryside and frequented inns and bars
Through his travels and adventures he gained fortune and fame
A bard, a hero, a scoundrel, Ran Dansin was his name.

The Traveler

How 'bout some of my work?
I am an artist of words.. lessee?


The Traveler

A vacant heart that doesnt twitch
Revealed behind a dark gray mist
A time 'afore history was writ
I give to you an elven myth

(chorus)
He danced around a great stone ring
He did dance and he did sing
Into the frigid cold of night
Beneath the moons silvery light

Through a weirding forest I did walk
And only the owl my path did mock
Then into a clearing I saw through my hair lock
An odd man with a great hat who skipped among many a rock

(chorus)

he stopped a moment and then sighed
to my unspoken question he replied
this is where I jig for this is where I died.
I was smote here by mine own spirit and most trusted guide

(chorus)

so here I dance but also wait
for this very single date
when I shall find one to mate
my hat to themselves and my spirit take.

So please take to your heart my desperate matter
Its not just stylish, oh, but rather
Will give you powers that can bind and tatter
So place this upon your crown and be ever known as a hatter

(chorus)

I then accepted this mantle from his head
And even though he was very dead
it was alive. black and white and tall and red
And the hat has lived up to everything he said

Also, as you can see
Since the day he gave this thing to me
His spirit has lived and does agree
That the true hatter for now is me

(chorus)

JabberWow

4-8-08
JABBERWOW
Twas WoW time, l337s and noobs
did Pug to raid.
The Gold Beggars yell LOLBBQ!
And Chinese farmers got paid.

"Beware flagged skulls, dood,
one shot and you are pwned.
Shun loot ninjas, the rude,
and players who are stoned."

He accepted the quest,
Fiery chant on a Grey item.
He medded to grind the next.
Targeted? he'd take 'em.

Aggroed out of no where,
an elite rare did add.
The Lowbie hit his cool down buttons.
Now he's mad.

Oh shit, crit crit, finishing blow.
The mobs went down.
He bandaged, looted just so,
and hearthed back to town.

"You roxord boxors of creeps?"
The quest guy did ask.
The rewards: a silver piece
and a blue quality mask.

Twas WoW time, l337s and noobs
did Pug to raid.
The Gold Beggars yell LOLBBQ!
And Chinese farmers got paid.