This is the official blog of Northern Arizona slam poet Christopher Fox Graham. Begun in 2002, and transferred to blogspot in 2006, FoxTheBlog has recorded more than 670,000 hits since 2009. This blog cover's Graham's poetry, the Arizona poetry slam community and offers tips for slam poets from sources around the Internet. Read CFG's full biography here. Looking for just that one poem? You know the one ... click here to find it.
Showing posts with label Cozy Slam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cozy Slam. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

"A Compilation Love Poem," by Abby Meade and Stephanie Whitaker

Poets poking fun at other poets in a slam scene is a wonderful thing. This was a slam poem performed by two poets in the FlagSlam scene, performing in the style of the poets. Abby Meade's performance of Josh Floyd was the most spot-on.



Photo by Robert Chandler Gonzales
Abby Meade, left, and Stephanie Whitaker debut "A Compilation Love Poem" at the Cozy Slam.
A Compilation Love Poem
By Abby Meade - Stephanie Whitaker

Christopher Fox Graham: (read by Abby)
Even though I don’t remember your name, you meant something, and in that one night we spent together, your golden hair glinted in the moonlight.

Your eyes like daggers to my soul reminded me that I could never have you.

I know we met when we were 12, but braces looked cute on you, and you made cropped pants look cool.


Jackson Morris: (read by Stephanie)
Thanks, CFG, but I think I got it from here.

As I looked down at our intertwined fingers, I wanted to pinch myself, because who could love a self-deprecating geek like me?

Your sparkling blue eyes like pools rippled with thoughts I couldn’t read. I wanted to take you in my arms and protect you from the monsters in your dreams.


Josh Floyd: (read by Abby)
Girl, you deserve the monsters! You are worse than any nightmare I ever had.

I used to be a rapper, but even that didn’t hurt me as bad as you.

Now it’s just me and my first love: My skateboard.

Nothing you do is going to separate us.

 She fills the holes you punched into my soul.


Vincent Vega: (read by Stephanie)
I want to rip your heart out of your ribcage and watch it beat in my hand as the blood drips to the floor.

I love you like a horror movie, screams and pain and fear wrapped up in gore and tied with a cute pink bow.

The one you wear on Wednesdays.

The one I want to rip from your curls and tie around your neck so I can listen to you gasp for air.

Blue is a good color on you.


Christopher Fox Graham: (read by Abby)
You still sleep with the blue stuffed dog you had since kindergarten, and I was always jealous.

I wanted your full attention, but you… you had your own plans.

And when you left for college, even though we hadn’t spoken in months, it was like a weight off my shoulders.

I know you’re better off without me.


Jackson Morris: (read by Stephanie)
That night, we lay under the stars and listened to the chorus of crickets around us.

It was the perfect ending to our moonlit picnic, and though the blanket was a little itchy, when you pointed out Orion’s belt, I smiled.

When you think back on us, smile over the memories that might be a little bitter now, but are mixed in with the good ones.


Josh Floyd: (read by Abby)
The aftershocks of your words still ripple through me, like giants stepping through the cities of my mind.

The riot is over, but the wreckage remains I’m trying to clean up after you, but girl, earthquakes reverberate, and this one leaves me *gasp* breathless.


Vincent Vega: (read by Stephanie)
Your soul is too free, so I’ll lock you into a cage and watch you wither away, because I like skinny girls.

I’ll treat you like a woman should be treated: chained up and tortured with my love.

 I want to know that when I leave, you’ll still be there when I get back.

But I also want you to be comfortable, so I’ll only use the best handcuffs on you.

Because, baby girl, I love you.