dropping sixteen bars

no text in his hands, he bends his
own beat, leads with his voice,
raps the spotlight, word_kites, the
place crowded, he’s young, the heat
is on and it’s

loVE // LOve // LOVE

that starts with a song and a
dream and Snow, falling slow_ly,
making it CoverThePain, plain, real,
Real_ly you feel the plastified emotions,
corrosion of life, don’t ya? & DEEP_er,
they walk, INject, INTERact

soaring high and their souls melt,
kindred, unhindered into the place,
this space where all the shit cannot harm,
where it’s warm, safe and the
BRACE // BRACE shouts are only heard
when it’s too late already, between fading

reality, conventionality, this is special,
no crying & slowly dying to the past,
to the last fuckin’ frightening experience,
different this time and the song,
the Song plays on and–

it is cool, Extraordinary, particularly
off-beat & dang, it’s just them and
non-conform, off the norm, breath-
less sex when– it gets out of control, who
can tell? shards start to carve
deep holes into skin & soul, they

paint ‘em pink steam with another
dream, inhale the grass that will last
a few hours more when they get
to the core of what matters will smash &
crash on smeared tiles as they lose

track of the way, the stop, the Better_Not,
the blood drunk sheets where dreams
glow & doped nightmares grow—NO!! fear,
HEAR– the song, The song plays on,
multiplied sixteen bars, rapped
with calm breath, controlled heat,
as he bends & blends– into the beat


wrote this after visiting a poetry slam sunday night..was a great evening with some challenging texts..

…and it’s this time of the week again where we rap and throw verse all over the place, where we let our word-kites fly and have a great time at dVerse Poets pub… Joe Hesch will be tending bar tonight…see you 3 pm EST..


66 responses to “dropping sixteen bars

  1. thid def captures the essence of a slam for me…it is pretty amazing to witness when thsy start to rip xnd lay it all out there….raw and real…great flow claudia

  2. Sure not a ham, you gave it a slam and with a bam made them into toejam. Which might be eww, but you made it come due. Although that snow, no matter how slow, just needs to go and remember to pick the jam from your toe.

  3. “no text in his hands, he bends his
    own beat, leads with his voice,
    raps the spotlight, word_kites, the
    place crowded, he’s young, the heat
    is on and it’s…”

    Hello! Claudia…
    Once again, there is rhythm in your words [Can there be rhythm in words? or a rhythm to [your] words?]…a flow… a constant movement in your poetry in this poem.
    Tks, for sharing…too!
    deedee 🙂

  4. Claudia…how could anyone who reads this not bend to every note,
    and heard every word. Half here, half there, other half everywhere.
    Spilt all over the floor, songs, love, and love-songs, and those words:
    hushed, shushed…and whispered low.

    Well, that what your poem did to ME, Babe! Ya HAPPY now?–grin!

  5. I did my first first poetry night last week. Some of the poets definitely had music in their work. One lady in particular seems to have a whole orchestra accompanying her, in her head. She was visibly exhausted after. I got hit in the face with some of their “word-kites” too.

  6. You can tell by my audio recitations
    accompanying my poetics that once
    upon a time I was an actor, before I
    had to become a special Ed teacher
    to make a living; but I have never actually
    been to a poetry slam, even though
    something tells me I will be right at
    home at one. Considering attending one
    this Friday in Tacoma; your poem has
    lit up my enthusiasm for performing.

  7. Phew… I feel like I just went on a word hike and came off sweating! What a fabulous piece. Felt kind of like wham, bam, thank you ma’am … It was rough, real, grunge and not with holding punches of raw energy.
    A truly wonderful write once more.

  8. I feel like I was there with you, witnessing all the emotion. I’ve never been to a poetry slam. Would like to go to one, and when I do, I’ll remember you.

  9. Really awesome write Claudia, you really captured the atmosphere and performances I recall at the few slams I’ve been to. Really awesome job. Thanks

  10. i could hear it, that rhythm, i could see those word kites (love that) flying, soaring, dipping…
    i always love the cadence of your words, it flows off the page so effortlessly, the way you see the world, capture it, as a true poet.

  11. Jazz- this made me think of Jazz- not only the subject matter but the flow, the structure- almost discordant- like Miles Davis/ Bitches Brew. I loved the line about the blood drunk sheets. This painted a scene, people sat round a table smoking, totally into the music, analysing it- maybe too much- like goal jazz heads! Really interesting and I’m starting to get a real flavour for your style – you have such a unique voice

  12. You nailed the slam scene, Claudia! And I like the title, “Dropping Sixteen Bars.”
    I dropped (passed out) in sixteen bars in the last few weeks.

  13. Maybe because I was just listening to a new CD I got from Markus Burger “Tertia” with him and Jan Von Klewitz…but I could hear the music playing as I read this…the pattern of music in the words…really got connected with this one.

  14. There is freedom in the rain of words, but there’s a compulsion, too, that we feel–to communicate in that certain way, the thing that we want to say just right. You portray an atmosphere of excitement, of letting go and mystery. Wish I could’ve been there…Very fine.

  15. I like your bursts of capitalization in this – and some of your other poems, as well. “to the last fuckin’ frightening experience” really rolls of the tongue! I’ve never been to or read at a slam – maybe someday…

  16. More excitement dripping from your steaming pen, Ms. Claudia. I could feel the anxiety, hear that rustle, smell the worry and relief. It must have been invigorating. I know you were a star! Well done.

  17. I hear the sound of all that went on there and find myself, as always, pulled one way or the other, into your world, its world, our world. The chorus of voices here is always more than just you – though that isvwondetful – butbthe voice of all, them, those others that make you you and them them. You keep their voices for real without parasitically grafting them into your voice, which for me is always an amazing part of your work. This poem continues that and really has me hearing the music not only of human voices, but a chorus of spheres tending towards infinity.

  18. Ah, Claudia your versatility and dexterity never cease to amaze me.
    Your syntax is inspiring, refiring synapses that phase me
    straight through walls and barriers, gale force winds behind me in flurries
    of realizations; punctuated exclamations of remembrance: with writing there are
    no worries.


  19. Slamming intense passion for their messages, the movement begins, hoping for the climax as they spin, live acts with emotional charges…the words begin
    Nice write Claudia

  20. I have never been to a poetry slam, but after having read your words I feel as if I was there right with you. Lots of emotion…and right out there for all to see and FEEL.

  21. The syncopation and internal wordplay work excellently here, reflecting the subject matter. I can almost smell the cigarette smoke trailing to the ceiling.

  22. i really enjoyed the way you took your time, how you followed them into their swirl and told their story with a playful bit of wisdom and perspective from on high. luv ur vision.

  23. You make me want to find a poetry slam to go to, Claudia. Your words flowed effortlessly, drew me in with their colors and rhythms (but then, again, they always do). and I loved “word_kites”

  24. This is meant to be read outloud with deep, meaningful pauses, a dramatic voice, big, flaring gestures, and breath that exhales words that dance and sing into a dark night with a big crowd listening. Good work.