“Capitalizing of Word(s): An artist-philosopher’s blog-thoughts on Spoken Word: A Cultural History”

The portrayal of  spoken word and slam in “Spoken Word: A Cultural History” by Joshua Bennett touches upon several key points that underscore potential shortcomings and misrepresentations within the narrative regarding reformist political instrumentation regarding the watering down of spoken word as revolutionary, focus on the author’s self-centered narratives,  and the commercialization of the trivial(Bennet 56). The critique  points out the intertwining of spoken word with political agendas, particularly during the Obama administration false narrative of a post-racial administration(Bennett 25). This observation implies a concern that spoken word (with it being the equivalence of all postmodern poetry),  may have been co-opted by political powers, potentially diluting its authenticity and revolutionary potential. Without a philosophical critique of distinctive analysis of spoken word as an aesthetic, the book grapples as a persiflage autobiography of the author’s  life within spoken word and not a “cultural history” as it is titled. 

The focus on Self-Centered Narratives  distinguishes between autobiography and autoethnography, the critique suggests that the book may prioritize self-centered narratives over broader aesthetic, historicism, and philosophical explorations of cultural and social contexts. This could indicate a limitation in the book’s scope and depth of analysis. The distinction between autobiography and autoethnography is crucial in understanding the critique’s concern regarding self-centered narratives in the cultural history of spoken word. Autobiography typically focuses on the personal experiences and perspectives of the author, often centering on individual achievements, struggles, and reflection. On  the other hand, autoethnography expands beyond personal narratives to include a deeper exploration of cultural and social contexts, acknowledging the interconnectedness between personal experiences and broader societal dynamics.

 The critique laments a perceived departure from the revolutionary spirit embodied by figures like the revolutionary communist and poet Amir Baraka in the portrayal of spoken word history. This implies a dissatisfaction with how the evolution of spoken word is depicted in the book, potentially overlooking its radical roots.  The lamentation over the loss of the revolutionary spirit in the portrayal of spoken word history reflects a dissatisfaction with how the evolution of spoken word is depicted in the book(Bennet 56). By invoking figures like Amir Baraka, who embody the radical and transformative potential of spoken word as a tool for social change and resistance, the critique highlights a perceived raison d’ etre  between the historical roots of the movement and its contemporary representation.  There was also a need to equate how spoken word and slam have now become so synonymous with poetry that poetry is now only spoken word and or slam.  This also reflects a departure from the connection, if any, to dada, surrealism, and modern poetry.  

Finally, the commercialization and trivialization of spoken word  raises concerns about the commercialization and trivialization of spoken word, particularly in how it caters to a “lowest common denominator” audience and focuses on personal narratives, stand-up comedy, and trauma exploitation. This indicates a worry about the commodification of spoken word and its potential to dilute its cultural and artistic significance.  The focus on commercial success as an acid test for good poetry versus just poetry-that-is-within-sight,  is myopic and extinguishes the revolutionary need for poetry to be not only authentic, but show that poetry is what can not be painted. Focusing on how the so-called Hollywood of Poetry is the commercial success of Button Poetry(Bennett 123). It suggests a concern that the platform prioritizes mainstream recognition and social media popularity over the deeper historical and cultural roots of spoken word; this means that Button Poetry is good poetry and untouchable poetry because of its  in esse. Meaning Button Poetry is great and the go-to place because of its accessibility and as easy as pushing a button. But this raises questions just because of spoken word’s  mainstream accessibility, does it become art, or just billboard art.

Overall, this critique suggests that while Betts’ book provides insights into the cultural and political dimensions of spoken word, it may fall short in delivering a comprehensive examination of the art form’s evolution, aesthetic qualities, and societal impact. It’s viewed more as a reflection of the author’s personal experiences within the spoken word community rather than a truly encompassing cultural history. This results in asking a question, what is the new poetry movement? 

Works Cited

Bennett,J(2023). Spoken Word: A Cultural History. New York. Penquin Books.

—Lucas Alan Dietsche(Pronouns, He, comrade, and accomplice) PhD in Visual Arts: Philosophy, Aesthetics, and Art Theory, and a published anti-poet, and artist-philosopher. He can be reached at ldietsche@idsva.edu

i go to poetry events to take a nap(an anti-poem to BP)

i go to poetry events to take a nap

melatonin infuse not ripe enough

the banal blog su-prosing

loaded confluated sigh

of slurming visage

sentence work plugged

verbs

prounouning adjecti

cursing 

written swords

paper up 

flow 

cite 

evidence

microphone

doesn’t

have 

early

death

to routine spoken bandwidth

having to cauterize my thoughts

faraday compromise

and then like shower karaoke karate microphone

doing the sizz drum  and like for audiencing where

the main bopping popping 

shrugging face wear

forward intense fortify abandoned 

coffee nuptial

string stung flanges

the like, the

version went 

forsooth

gone,

miserable and smoke from

tintinnabulation

i think it was 30 times a clock,

momentarily

barking front

of stares, 

and formulae,

and i think it was 

going unhome galaxical

very, like, valley girl dada, 

and the wrong sentence sent abandoned

on sideboard highway

was linear cray cray

and i be like 

again

some lassitude placing 

beds on me

bunk and such

a broken ballerina

staging a coup,

upset graffiti painting

grafted on boring poem statue

just fired calliope  pipe singing

fidgety distraught

and like, i saw, 

suddenly discussing guitar

aria’s 

wind throat

talking combustible

fractized splinters of rivets

faces splat

pregnant anxiety

i ready-made night feet

night-scared 

abandoned ghost moms art,

and like blankets man, buildings bulkheads

pull and plugg

the, envy, nip and torn

place and paster

and be like, be solo groove

barbecue inflation

eloquent eyes

and

sun flies broken flint through,

that low hung plane pinned

mono-flametary buzzy ray

a non-gesture to biological underlings 

gallerical panopticon doused in all shares of prison whites

loaded in neutrinos willingly into thanos mouth

and like, so strangulation of time

(To Jack Keourac)

“the day that poetry died-Refaat Alareer”

house became instant urn

drowned by brix and fire

and killed by genocide deniers

so spake the winning sirens

the sirens of hundreds of 

mortar-laden poetic goodbyes

for untouched cloudlings

of vibrating sidewalks

and coffinated sponged parks 

to plant no more orphans

and untreed olive forests for a keffiyeh to sprout

before the world texts through more hostile indifference

and is bored by Minnesota gossip. 

my winged ears caught the shuffle scratch of chair legs

on non-profit floor

of bodies masquerading their nice escape

the screeching quiet

daunting to kowtow out of  an open mic

i knew before the building collapsed, 

i didn’t need , really, 

an audience. 

Death of Crying god-Candy

bright soap froth

undersea castle

teal aquamarine

mansion depot house

railroad empty holding

to one place where to start

openness

transits nothing cargo

to non-place

to the death of crying

below heavens ceiling girder

buildings demarcated

clouds

to the upper level sphere

of chased out 

a clock wheel locomotive

alone above 

churning whistles

behemoth

being heating muscle

for metropoles

moontail

moontail uncurls its ammonite life

crashes plateau

and it crushes plateau the 

monument it makes

bisons’s cactus shape hoofs

the parked moontail

spine of moontail

struck upon yucca reach

on beaching moontail upon plateau

beach

spark of spine crinklest sage

from terrestialing thump

all sunflowers lamprey eye’d

stretch up satellites

to moontail tail

splice axial loess

snakely over gorge dust

raking ruined wretched axis

of the craft

crushes on running pinon undomesticated atomic sage clusters

yucca in defensive rapiers

all bent

porous and fractal

moontail coo’d from booming

monospatial sirene

lets itself

hook,

onto  aeroplaza

for dock celestialism

plateau the horizontal!

dinner, 

dish,

to serve ammonite moonful

terrestrial  appetite

what sank from nakedly uniform space

to be banished drop on pinioned

and saged plateau

cactus fins and geko residence

and monolithic-tempteled -antelope

and outposts of adobe

witness moontail stretch

from limited room in lunarspatial

coma distinguished dust ruined

cool projected moontail rine

scorpion spike

integrity intact

moontail undressed from space

to breathe, fallen,

sullen storms of star-eating

creating on the plateau

immediate, quarry

in reciprocity spine of moontail

spoons inward, its curled sword device

inside appendix, moontail are 

repertoire of its controls, table of contents

control the simple arch of the thimble bend

of poly enamels and metals 

of unlimited sky skins

there you are a deserted plateau

with a moontail hook that 

sank unearthed from top curtain

away from something unsolar

beyond solar knives

snipped dusty string to have 

ammonite moontail

drift-drop on plateau’s face

(LAD to Colorado, New Mexico and DH Lawrence)

“self care stops at the barricades”

self care stops at barricades

it is good the call out brigades

only exercise will through 

hands coming out the internet

what chaos  that fascist band

of hooligans would wrought?

in other tme lands they 

have “marxist-leninist” as purity suffix

identity individuals ego signs

of anti-timed lines

expressed in liberatory narcissism

Death to Mediocrity!

only “you” in Youth

expounded in narcissism

refute to being background noise

extras in your own life supernumeraries!

@xennialpoetrynotes

i didn’t apologize to a robot he was more human and gendered than me

(robot is Slavic for forced labor)

presumed programmable

in a non-profit 

holographic

classification

Anitkythera clock

saros remote sequence

spiral the rocket fled

healing time travel

in wound-up tin

steel flanges

one human imputation 

math from Vitruvian man

oh god, another ally

aboard Talos 

countercirculating stratum

collid intrinsic

myth of flying automata

cancel birth your happiness

dull and blind 

illegitimate metamorphia

and,

drum,

to,

the drunk,

vino,

slugging, 

sonnetters’

demodulatoring mouths

sore from sorries

malfunction you diaphanous

apologizing to cognates

injection neurosyphilis from droids

domo-limbo

neo sparkles supreme

pinch dreams connect

unmechanical pen points

left follicle ophthalmologic sway 

@xennialpoetrynotesLucas Alan Dietsche 5/22