Canadian Festival of Spoken Word

On stage, she stood at the microphone, and even though she was alone in the spotlight,
that night the theatre was full of her community wishing her well.
And with the swell of passion in her words, her hands flitted like birds,
diving and grasping and clutching
as she unfurled her heart, offering her emotions to us like a gift from a lover.

On stage, he stood at the microphone, and even though he was far from home,
his questions of history,
loneliness, pain, identity,
are shared across this country, from Toronto to this city.
And so we understood what he meant when he sent his waves of hurt
out in the audience for us to hear.

On stage, they stood at microphones and I know they’ve honed their skills for years,
Weaving oppression and inequality into poetry,
A big fuck you to the idea that everything is right with the world.
When it comes to the art of spoken word,
a pièce de résistance can be a piece of resistance.

***

On October 18, I went to the finals of the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word that was held in Victoria this year. I was blown away–and inspired to write a little poetry of my own. In Victoria, there’s a slam poetry session every Thursday night at Lacey-Lou’s Tapas Lounge. See Vic Slam on Facebook for details.

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