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Entertainment, A Busy Month for Poetry Slams and Jazz Jams

A Busy Month for Poetry Slams and Jazz Jams

Welcome to AMERICAN MOSAIC in VOA Special English.

I'm Doug Johnson. This week, we report about poetry and jazz because April is a special month for both arts in the United States.

Poetry Slams The United States is celebrating National Poetry Month in April. There are large events, like the three-day Austin International Poetry festival in Texas. There are small events, like Poetic Voices, a performance by the best teenage poets of Cass County, Missouri. And there are poetry slams. Mario Ritter tells about these competitions, the slammers and the poems.

A poetry slam is a competition in which poets perform one of their pieces in front of an audience and judges.

The poem can be no longer than three minutes and is rated from one to ten.

Most slammers are very theatrical in their performances.

The poems can be about personal subjects or world events. Two weeks ago, sixteen year old Stacy performed a poem about the attack on the World Trade Center in New York City in two thousand one. The slam was held at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York. Here is part of her performance: The Black Death demolishes civilization. Now we're making foundations for the recovering patients, because for some reason we can't find any explanations for the contaminations. Whether it's the Plague or AIDS; STDs or HIV; there are no answers. And we can't find the cure for cancer so… Ashes to ashes we all fall down. Operation cremation without any consolation.

A blind architect doing renovations on a historical creation. Double jeopardize thousands of innocent lives; trying to buy avowal but could barely keep themselves alive. Leaving only a handful that survived.

Flight Eleven and One Seventy-Five with the illegal medications that overdosed our population, led us to receive a leave of absence for an unnecessary vacation and we became addicts. Developed unheard of addictions; unintentionally using needles shooting up intoxications; popped pills laced with devastation; sniffing lines of contamination; hallucinations of peace in our nation; unwilling levitation meeting heaven before expectation.

They called the cravings 9/11; I call it violation; molestation; split the towers like a virgin and seduced her with sensual conversation.

Eighteen year old slam poet Safia Elhillo deals with another serious issue in her poem, "Immigrant City." The poet read it at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut.

I saw you Disembark at Metro Center Transferring to the blue line, preparing to board your third bus Back to Skyline Towers: The commute from Metropolis to Immigrant City Cheekbones sculpted like Sahara dunes Lips chapped to mimic sidewalks of this Promised Land; oh, how they tricked you. They tricked us.

Shoulders stooped, broad back Bent with weighted expectations from Umi, Khaltu, Fatima and Baba Eagerly awaiting your return, the Conquering hero With Big Macs And blue jeans For all They tricked us. Friday night prayers in Ramshackle mosques, I watched you Stiff in your new collared shirt Ankles rubbed raw by pleather loafers Hair shaved carefully close to camouflage The giveaway kinks and curls. I saw me in you; Like how we both exaggerate The twang in our r's To outweigh the okra and rice Laying heavily across our tongues Forcing extra syllables Painfully turning b's to p's Rolling eyes in exasperation at those Homely folk back in the old country Arrived with open eyes open arms, open hearts Ready to receive our Honorary title as Americans Instead shoved into closet-sized apartments Watching our PHd holding brothers Drive taxis Our law-student sisters Mop floors Our bright babies Repeating grades "Sharp mind, but he can't go anywhere 'Til he gets a better grasp on the English language" I saw you Eyes alight with recognition upon Hearing the familiar falter in my accent You are not alone But our togetherness makes us All the more outcast As we board our third bus To Skyline Towers Destination: Immigrant City We may not be home, but Stop by sometime For mint tea and palm dates Stories of Omdurman sands and Khartoum rickshaws Compare notes on the experience Of sandal-clad feet upon concrete Chuckling far too loudly, as is The Sudanese way, Long into the 'Isha hours Safe from metropolitan disapproval Of the Arabic interwoven in our jargon They may have tricked us, Equating broken English with Broken spirits But they underestimated our safe haven In each others' arms, each others' hearts Right here In Immigrant City Safia Elhillo was born in Rockville Maryland. Both of her parents are from Sudan. She now lives in Washington, DC with her mother and brother. Safia says she wrote her first poem for a high school English class three years ago.

But she says she grew up around poetry. Her mother enjoys reading poetry, especially poems by Rumi and Khalil Gibran. Safia says she also likes poems by Nikki Giovanni and Suheir Hammad. Safia gives special praise to all the young poets she has met during the past two years she has been writing and competing in slams.

Safia Elhillo says writing poetry will always be a part of her life. She says performing her work has helped her defeat her severe nervousness. She hopes to attend college at New York University and study art therapy.

Here she reads a poem about her best friend, "Malik: He stepped off the sun, Sweat of the islands still glistening on his brow. Man-child, all grown Squinting into the horizon Maps etched into his calloused palms. Gilded boy spilling Golden glow onto cracked sidewalk Outside the corner bodega; He's here to heal. Child of the cosmos, Mind traveling through Warm sands and subway tracks Humming lullabies in broken Arabic, like " Ahibak, akhi "*( *ahibak, akhi: I love you, my brother)And it's been far from easy On my clumsy days; Caught me, placed me upon a broad shoulder Atlas manifested but I Called him Midas The golden king. Swinging my legs in time to the Verses we conjured: Jabao Jibaro, Sergeant Saffron, Brother Bear, Yes, Ahibak akhi. Voice rumbling from the planet's core Face upturned; see Children of the universe, They shine in the night; And we do. Cracking jokes, grins, Long past the crack of dawn Like "How long will you be up?" "Forever." Yes.

And Your name is in the title, 'cause I've learned, and Don't dedicate time, energy And poems To what's not built to last. Jazz Appreciation Month April is not only a time for poetry. It also marks the eighth yearly Jazz Appreciation Month. The Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of American History in Washington, DC started the event. It is now celebrated in all fifty American states and in forty countries. The aim of Jazz Appreciation Month is to bring public attention to the rich past and present of jazz music. There are special programs on jazz at museums, schools, colleges, libraries, concert halls and on public broadcasting. Jim Tedder has more.

That was "Jungle Blues" by the famous bandleader Benny Goodman. The Smithsonian is observing the one hundred year anniversary of Benny Goodman's birth. There have been several discussions and musical programs about "The King of Swing" and the musicians who played with him. This month the museum is also releasing a collection of one hundred ten jazz recordings that help tell the history of jazz.

Jazz Appreciation Month is also honoring musician and composer Chuck Mangione. He has released thirty albums. Mangione is best known for his Grammy Award-winning single, "Feels So Good." John Edward Hasse is the curator of jazz at the National Museum of American History. He says jazz has been called "America's classical music," "the sound of freedom" and even "the sound of surprise." He says whatever you call it, jazz has played a huge role around the world in opening up musical creativity.

One reason the Smithsonian picked April to honor jazz is because many great jazz artists were born this month. They include Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Bessie Smith, Billie Holiday, Lionel Hampton and Herbie Hancock. Here is Ella Fitzgerald singing "April in Paris" with Louis Armstrong. Countries around the world will also take part in honoring jazz this month. For example, in South Africa, Cape Town's jazz festival included performances by more than forty international and African jazz performers. The Estonian capital of Tallinn will hold its own jazz festival. We leave you with a song by the Cuban saxophonist Paquito D'Rivera who is to perform at this event. I'm Doug Johnson. I hope you enjoyed our program today.

It was written by Dana Demange and Caty Weaver who was also the producer. For transcripts, MP3s and podcasts of our programs, go to voaspecialenglish.com. Join us again next week for AMERICAN MOSAIC, VOA's radio magazine in Special English. Transcript of radio broadcast: 16 April 2009

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A Busy Month for Poetry Slams and Jazz Jams Un mes ajetreado para Poetry Slams y Jazz Jams

Welcome to AMERICAN MOSAIC in VOA Special English.

I'm Doug Johnson. This week, we report about poetry and jazz because April is a special month for both arts in the United States.

Poetry Slams The United States is celebrating National Poetry Month in April. There are large events, like the three-day Austin International Poetry festival in Texas. There are small events, like Poetic Voices, a performance by the best teenage poets of Cass County, Missouri. And there are poetry slams. Mario Ritter tells about these competitions, the slammers and the poems.

A poetry slam is a competition in which poets perform one of their pieces in front of an audience and judges.

The poem can be no longer than three minutes and is rated from one to ten.

Most slammers are very theatrical in their performances.

The poems can be about personal subjects or world events. Two weeks ago, sixteen year old Stacy performed a poem about the attack on the World Trade Center in New York City in two thousand one. The slam was held at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York. Here is part of her performance: The Black Death demolishes civilization. Now we're making foundations for the recovering patients, because for some reason we can't find any explanations for the contaminations. Whether it's the Plague or AIDS; STDs or HIV; there are no answers. And we can't find the cure for cancer so… Ashes to ashes we all fall down. Operation cremation without any consolation.

A blind architect doing renovations on a historical creation. Double jeopardize thousands of innocent lives; trying to buy avowal but could barely keep themselves alive. Leaving only a handful that survived.

Flight Eleven and One Seventy-Five with the illegal medications that overdosed our population, led us to receive a leave of absence for an unnecessary vacation and we became addicts. Developed unheard of addictions; unintentionally using needles shooting up intoxications; popped pills laced with devastation; sniffing lines of contamination; hallucinations of peace in our nation; unwilling levitation meeting heaven before expectation.

They called the cravings 9/11; I call it violation; molestation; split the towers like a virgin and seduced her with sensual conversation.

Eighteen year old slam poet Safia Elhillo deals with another serious issue in her poem, "Immigrant City." The poet read it at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut.

I saw you  Disembark at Metro Center  Transferring to the blue line, preparing to board your third bus Back to Skyline Towers: The commute from Metropolis to Immigrant City Cheekbones sculpted like Sahara dunes Lips chapped to mimic sidewalks of this Promised Land; oh, how they tricked you. They tricked us.

Shoulders stooped, broad back Bent with weighted expectations from Umi, Khaltu, Fatima and Baba Eagerly awaiting your return, the Conquering hero With Big Macs And blue jeans For all They tricked us. Friday night prayers in Ramshackle mosques, I watched you Stiff in your new collared shirt Ankles rubbed raw by pleather loafers Hair shaved carefully close to camouflage The giveaway kinks and curls. I saw me in you; Like how we both exaggerate  The twang in our r's  To outweigh the okra and rice Laying heavily across our tongues Forcing extra syllables Painfully turning b's to p's Rolling eyes in exasperation at those Homely folk back in the old country Arrived with open eyes open arms, open hearts Ready to receive our  Honorary title as Americans Instead shoved into closet-sized apartments Watching our PHd holding brothers Drive taxis Our law-student sisters Mop floors Our bright babies  Repeating grades "Sharp mind, but he can't go anywhere 'Til he gets a better grasp on the English language" I saw you Eyes alight with recognition upon Hearing the familiar falter in my accent You are not alone But our togetherness makes us All the more outcast As we board our third bus To Skyline Towers Destination: Immigrant City We may not be home, but Stop by sometime  For mint tea and palm dates Stories of Omdurman sands and Khartoum rickshaws Compare notes on the experience Of sandal-clad feet upon concrete Chuckling far too loudly, as is The Sudanese way, Long into the 'Isha hours Safe from metropolitan disapproval Of the Arabic interwoven in our jargon They may have tricked us,  Equating broken English with Broken spirits But they underestimated our safe haven In each others' arms, each others' hearts Right here In Immigrant City Safia Elhillo was born in Rockville Maryland. Both of her parents are from Sudan. She now lives in Washington, DC with her mother and brother. Safia says she wrote her first poem for a high school English class three years ago.

But she says she grew up around poetry. Her mother enjoys reading poetry, especially poems by Rumi and Khalil Gibran. Safia says she also likes poems by Nikki Giovanni and Suheir Hammad. Safia gives special praise to all the young poets she has met during the past two years she has been writing and competing in slams.

Safia Elhillo says writing poetry will always be a part of her life. She says performing her work has helped her defeat her severe nervousness. She hopes to attend college at New York University and study art therapy.

Here she reads a poem about her best friend, "Malik: He stepped off the sun, Sweat of the islands still glistening on his brow. Man-child, all grown Squinting into the horizon Maps etched into his calloused palms. Gilded boy spilling Golden glow onto cracked sidewalk  Outside the corner bodega; He's here to heal. Child of the cosmos,  Mind traveling through Warm sands and subway tracks Humming lullabies in broken Arabic, like " Ahibak, akhi "*( *ahibak, akhi: I love you, my brother)And it's been far from easy On my clumsy days; Caught me, placed me upon a broad shoulder Atlas manifested but I  Called him Midas The golden king. Swinging my legs in time to the Verses we conjured: Jabao Jibaro, Sergeant Saffron, Brother Bear, Yes, Ahibak akhi. Voice rumbling from the planet's core Face upturned; see Children of the universe, They shine in the night; And we do. Cracking jokes, grins, Long past the crack of dawn Like "How long will you be up?" "Forever." Yes.

And Your name is in the title, 'cause I've learned, and  Don't dedicate time, energy And poems To what's not built to last. Jazz Appreciation Month April is not only a time for poetry. It also marks the eighth yearly Jazz Appreciation Month. The Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of American History in Washington, DC started the event. It is now celebrated in all fifty American states and in forty countries. The aim of Jazz Appreciation Month is to bring public attention to the rich past and present of jazz music. There are special programs on jazz at museums, schools, colleges, libraries, concert halls and on public broadcasting. Jim Tedder has more.

That was "Jungle Blues" by the famous bandleader Benny Goodman. The Smithsonian is observing the one hundred year anniversary of Benny Goodman's birth. There have been several discussions and musical programs about "The King of Swing" and the musicians who played with him. This month the museum is also releasing a collection of one hundred ten jazz recordings that help tell the history of jazz.

Jazz Appreciation Month is also honoring musician and composer Chuck Mangione. He has released thirty albums. Mangione is best known for his Grammy Award-winning single, "Feels So Good." John Edward Hasse is the curator of jazz at the National Museum of American History. He says jazz has been called "America's classical music," "the sound of freedom" and even "the sound of surprise." He says whatever you call it, jazz has played a huge role around the world in opening up musical creativity.

One reason the Smithsonian picked April to honor jazz is because many great jazz artists were born this month. They include Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Bessie Smith, Billie Holiday, Lionel Hampton and Herbie Hancock. Here is Ella Fitzgerald singing "April in Paris" with Louis Armstrong. Countries around the world will also take part in honoring jazz this month. For example, in South Africa, Cape Town's jazz festival included performances by more than forty international and African jazz performers. The Estonian capital of Tallinn will hold its own jazz festival. We leave you with a song by the Cuban saxophonist Paquito D'Rivera who is to perform at this event. I'm Doug Johnson. I hope you enjoyed our program today.

It was written by Dana Demange and Caty Weaver who was also the producer. For transcripts, MP3s and podcasts of our programs, go to voaspecialenglish.com. Join us again next week for AMERICAN MOSAIC, VOA's radio magazine in Special English. Transcript of radio broadcast: 16 April 2009