Slam Sermon

Below is a slam poem I wrote for my poetry class. Slam poetry or Spoken Word poetry is characterized by an intense awareness of meter and rhythm. This is poetry to be spoken, to be performed. Unlike some of the "high-brow" poetry we sometimes find in literary magazines, this is poetry for the masses - that is, the poet actually wants to say something and works to be captivating for his audience. The best way, if you want to know what makes a slam poem, is to listen: Julian Curry, Saul Williams, Taylor Mali.

I will try to post an audio version of my poem later, but for now read it aloud and explore the rhythm of these syllables.

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Slam Sermon

All rise for the reading of God’s word

Berasheath bara elohim eth hashamiam vaeth ha-aritz

In the Beginning God created the heavens and the earth

And he said:

Be! To the light and swing low at night

So that east knows west and stays put unless

I say so, now let the winds blow

The waters back back back back stop!

and let the mountains prop

up heaven’s spot

earth have you caught

your breath yet? Because I need ya

Hyena, cheetah, zebra

You feel me, chimpanzee?

Throw a horn on it call it rhinoceros

Throw a beak on it call it a platypus.

Crows, hawks, cardinals, larks

Perch, bass, dolphins, sharks

Now man from the sand

And my breath and my hand

And woman from the sand

And my breath and my hand

Now I am rest.

Berasheath bara elohim eth hashamiam vaeth ha-aritz

That’s right YHWH the original slam poet

But we can’t hear that subtext

In this context

Because we handcuff God with words

We gag him with our liturgy:
Song

Song

Prayer

Song

Song

Bread

Juice

Money

Song

Sermon

Song

Prayer

Song

Song

Prayer

Song

Song

Bread

Juice

Money

Song

Sermon

Song

Prayer

We’ve shut the eloquent one up until

All we have left are echoes

Ricocheting across scripture

Berasheath bara... bla bla bla

Until justice flowed like a leaky faucet

And mercy like a string of spit

Song

Song

Prayer

Song

Song

Bread

Juice

Money

Song

Sermon

Song

Prayer

You have heard it said:

He who has ears let him hear

But I tell you:

Let he who has a mouth speak

May the words in your mind

be fruitful, increase and multiply

Because I want to break words like communion crackers

And drink the blood that flows from the open syllables

I want to be baptized in the name of the noun, and the verb, and the adjective

so that the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit actually mean something to me.

I want to pull a YHWH and speak worlds into existence when we pray

And if we can’t do that I want to, at the very least, pull a Jesus

And wear words like skin; bleeding, edible skin.