Thank you to all the Slam Poets out there
who revitalized me with their distinct rhythm
of percussive truths. Who punctuated words
with silence.
Their hands carved the air
with swift, decisive gestures
underscoring words spoken
feelings
fully
felt.
They didn’t prod me on
with preachy-pink tones
and saccharine-stained words
of holy this and marvelous that.
Their gritty, blustering honesty
lit me up and left me feeling
a reverential, fuck yeah YES!
I rode the rush of their spitfire ways
pressed my pen upon the page
and a vociferous storm of black ink
thundered out in a tumultuous deluge.
Inky puddles everywhere.
Poems in the making.
Thank you to all the Slam Poets out there
those blistering beacons of confidence
and pugnacious poise, who modeled
rugged realness and offered me
the unfamiliar taste of tangy
wholesome aggression
empowering me
to transmute that soggy heap
of wordless despair
into poetic anthems
of emphatic endurance
and everlasting
resilience.
- Lauren Taub Cohen
