Poetry 
of Diversion
 

by Jimmy Jazz
 
 

Pirate Enclave/ Rumpus Society 
Joint Communiqué IV
 
 

If you listen in on a modern day poetry reading, say while waiting in line for your mocha, you may hear a poet attacking sports and/or television. Sports and TV are easy targets for poets. They see them as activities for dummies (Whooo Go Dolts!) Poets see the problem as one of demographics. The poets themselves might agree that they desire more intellectual pastimes. They find enjoyment watching public television nature programs and/or artist biographies. For example a poet might be willing to watch a chess tournament or a biography that examines the metaphor of Ali the boxer. Poets love to extol the myth that other cultures have poetry readings in stadiums.

The real reason that a poet should attack sports and television is because the underlying purpose of these activities is to divert attention away from more serious matters, like the rape of the third world, and the establishment of a New World Order with culture dictated by Disney, food supplied by McDonald’s and the consolidated monopoly on information provided by a shrinking number of corporate entities.

Most of the poetry heard in public is a poetry of diversion. The Tuesday night poetry reading is no different than Monday night football or the Sunday morning sermon. Poetry is something to do. A hobby practiced by people unconcerned about the powerful tool of communication it could be (see Paint-by-Numberism.) Instead of a call to action, poetry is a lulling to sleep. Ask any school kid, he will tell you, “Poetry is boring.”

I don’t know that there was ever a time in American history when poetry belonged to the people. Poetry like religion is a tool that can be used to protect power. Like the priests and shamans of the ancient world guarded words, poetry has been guarded by an elite. The poetry of TS Eliot is supposedly so complex that no ordinary man can make sense of it. Though it purports to explore all the ideas of human nature, this hyper-meaning makes it mostly irrelevant. This holds true for all poetry that must be “unlocked.” The poetry loved by academia, and taught from kindergarten to university is essentially worthless.

Poets once took pride in the fact that Plato wanted to ban them from the Republic. But would Plato ban today’s poets?

As I begin to examine the potential of modern poetry, I don’t mean to uphold first impressions over serious study. Like Guttenberg handing out bibles I propose that the guarded word should not be locked away in an ivory tower.

Of course with the internet there is no such thing as an obscure allusion. Imagine a near future with handheld or brain-installed encyclopedias of everything, where light is thrown on every reference. We can lament this as a death-blow to scholarship, or celebrate the freeing of brain cells for inspired action. The most insignificant punk rock song has become as valid as the most obvious biblical reference.

The guardianship of the word also explains the separation of popular song and poetry. We don’t count Bob Dylan and Tom Waits among our greatest poets. Hip-hop is undeniably a powerful use of language, and is undeniably dismissed by academics as insignificant.

The beat poets recognized this after World War II, and dropped out of graduate school. They saw jazz as a better, more popular, delivery system for the message they wanted to get out to the people. But when no new pop-culture poetry force rose up, the beats became cliché --beatniks are a parody. And poetry died wearing a black beret.

In the 1990’s a new movement of performance poetry came to the fore. The new movement was popularized by the advent of the Poetry Slam in Chicago and the work of Henry Rollins. You can despise Rollins for ruining Black Flag and selling out the promise of indie literature when he opted for a vanity press and dumped important authors like Don Bajema and Ellyn Maybe from 2.13.61, but it would be difficult to argue that his Spoken Word show didn’t spur a poetry revival.

Of course there were poets in between “then” and now; and we can argue that the best of the contemporary word is like spore from the body of Amiri Baraka, The Last Poets, The Watts Prophets and the Beat Generation. Or we can just accept the fact that Art is a product of Time and only looks backward to justify itself, after it is finished.

The Poetry Slam popularizes and democratizes poetry. It brings together social classes and ethnicity who otherwise would not commingle. University professors hate this because it questions their guardianship of the word. They hate the idea that a poem can be judged outside of erudite circles by common men and women who bring their own value systems to the table. When you hear “It doesn’t hold up on the page” ask that professor if he’s seen it on the page?

When you look at the best of contemporary spoken word (including but not limited to slam poetry) you will find all the literary figures put to work: rhythm, allusion, repetition, hyperbole… and logic. But unlike the best of the boring poetry studied as important, you realize that Performance Quality Spoken Word™ must be relevant. It must be political and prescient. Coffee houses are full of bad poets: poets who mumble from their journals, mimic false prophets, wannabe rhyme time MC’s or just plain right-hand masturbate. (Remember Cecil’s maxim: Masturbation is only fun for you.) 

If we don’t want poetry to be another tool of diversion, then we must demand relevance. If the world is on fire, it’s a poets job to sound the alarm.

If we don’t want poetry to be another tool of diversion, then we must demand quality. In big ponds like New York and Los Angeles there’s a built-in atomosphere (maybe a factor of competition) that says you better be damn good, and you better not waste our time. In smaller ponds like San Diego, we have time and patience to hear everyone. That in itself is not a bad thing, but the factor that forces the poet to be practiced and relevant is absent.

The audience is more important than the poet. 

When non-poets hear bad poetry, they are led to believe, like the school kid, that all poetry sucks. When a poet rocks the proscenium in a coffee house setting, and collects only the same applause as amateurs who do not move an audience to reflective thought or genuine emotion, an injustice is done. In the same sense, false praise, given under the auspices of politeness is detrimental to Art. (see Open Mic Night, What Good Is It?)

It is the audience’s responsibility to participate in the poem. When a San Francisco audience told Philip Whalen to slow down the recitation of his poem, he told them to “listen faster.”

Followers of an oral tradition must be deep listeners. They must develop a critical ear and heed the call to action. When you hear the truth spoken, remember how rare it is, even if it hurts.

What can poets do? 

Bring music into your poetry. Bring dance. Bring art. Bring awareness. Approach every poem like a scientist or a terrorist. A poet needs to see things that are invisible to busy people, a poet needs to make those things visible. Homeless people are invisible, the American Negro used to be invisible but has come to light partly through the power of poetry. Langston Hughes, Langston Hughes. Politician’s lies are invisible to most people­ shrouded in a storm of publicity. The lack of real debate in the media is invisible. An integration of all arts and politics is necessary. A combination of aesthetics, values and action would be the opposite of poetry as diversion.

Read, listen and study the masters. As William Upski Wimsatt says, “Water you mentors.”

Real criticism is necessary. Don’t applaud, if you haven’t listened. Don’t come up to a poet later in the night and say, “That was great.” Never send me an email that says, “Excellent.” Say why it was great. Say “I like your idea about... giving homeless people homes… pulling the mask off The War Against Terror… pulling sexuality out of Shame’s closet.” 

By the same token, “Your poetry sucks,” is not valuable criticism. “Your rhythmless poetry is empty of meaning to anyone but yourself, it is too long, too jaded, and too wordy” would be better. If George Bush was a poet, I might applaud his creative use of language, but question his “value” of the bottom line. You cannot fuck shit up by donning a suit made of shit, you cannot patch the leak in your dung hut with diarrhea.

Demand substance.

Approach opportunity with creativity.

Never compromise.

Be the gadfly in the tyrant’s face. 

If you can’t tell the truth, lie to illuminate it.

Breath fire.

Speak into the microphone with your own voice.

When someone steals your shtick, get a new shtick. Get a new shtick anyway.

Say something that will make people say, “Mmmm” at the end of every line.
 

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