Sydney Poetry Slam 05 Finals - State Library of NSW Galleries - 08/12/05

Ethan Switch - Friday, December 9, 2005 - Print Version

Worlds collide at the State Library of NSW. In one spectrum, a largely over 35 crowd from the State Library's Under 35 club Christmas Party, void of all symbolism and dead fat men swinging from the ceilings. In the other, spectators on the hunt for the finals of the inaugural Sydney Poetry Slam; the bardic and cathartic rhythmic event of the year.

Seats allocate themselves to the faster set and those eager and hopeful to see festivities adhere to a sense of punctuality. Swinging back affords no comfort, the doubt of metal jutting through the shoulder blades keeping many honest and stable. Minutes pool into an hour as the photographer blinds everyone with a flash bulb that burns brighter than a sun on the back of a pasty Goth caught without sunscreen.

We, The Blinded

Snacks features large bowls of dip, white cloth and ready done drinks. Drinks that only break free from the constraints of the table with the aid of magic blue strips. Long thin strips of adhesive thrown away with the casual ease of tokens from a building top shooting for scalps of passers-by below.

Curly Jones steals the stage on an introduction. His infectious face making fists for the audience. Ghetto fabulous without the fabulous. Host and MC Miles Merrill breaks out from the inside and settles the buzz. Citizen Tom keeps his eye on the time and raises a hand for the warning. Only a few actually break that hand.

With a hood and flimsy hand cuffs to lead on with, an artist projects the future state of those with a conscience and contempt for a power hungry government. Scoring a negative from the Mars Hill Cafe heat, sacrificial mutton, Jackson steps up. His Leichhardt lines offer the Mitchell Wing the first poet to suffer the applauds and judging of the audience.

Taking on the first actual set of scores, Ben Ezra delights with a rapid fire set. A kinetic surge that is just a barrage of rhythm and melody that almost lifts his feet up off the ground.

Jenny Campbell severs with a mood that is most vicious. The underlying content ram raiding bile and offers an immediate clash to the free wheeling feel of Ezra.

Laid back and prone, Nick Sykes delivers a piece familiar to those at the Speakeasy heat. Deliberate and relaxing with a hint of tranqs, it speaks to the many with constant stress-filled occupations.

Jo Seto, wild card entrant from FBi radio, shoots with an endearing invite to the people in and beyond the front row section. Her charm brings out the night's first 10 point score from the judging panel.

Making a manic break of words and phrases, Bravo Child electrifies with an element of spark left lying in a bathtub of water. Performance is chaotic, the pulses and nerves blowing out any sense of placidity.

Taking full advantage of the three minute limit, Chafic Ataya employs a story that introduces his little ditty about Kings Cross. His posture is the most slumber ready of the other combatants.

Maria Freigh appears apologetic as she lulls the eyeballs and eardrums into a realm where the innocence hides something unknown.

Lacing his poem with profanity, irony and desperation, Patrick Alexander scores two 10 point markers from the judges. Roars of laughter shade previous burps of cool in comparison.

Alana Hicks curses out at Alexander's take apparent down. On and off the stage with an abattoir, Hicks leaves to catch people off their guard. A lone card holds 10 points for the set, last of the night.

Cath Stuart out-frazzles and out-beans any sheen from the scene of the mean and lean "poetry gene" cuisine.

People mill in the break. Drinks need glasses while the party goes without. An elderly couple dance in front of the stage to the Black-Eyed Peas. Merrill strips a quarter to snare the attention of the crowd for part two of the night.

Three teams converge, one after the other as they take the stage for their performances. Bardflys (Ezra, Hicks and Sykes), otherwise known as the booze hounds and tipsy few. Token Word (Alexander, Ataya and Child), otherwise known as the marijuana joint. One Word (Campbell, Freigh and Stuart), otherwise known as the coffee and latte set.

One Word offer up their take on the sedition laws. Theatre shines through their time up on the blocks. Stepping on toes and ideals not without an aspect of etiquette.

Bardflys enter an almost musical element to theirs. A country song feel of relationships and walking around with a head in the clouds.

Token Word are scratchy and work off pages. Three voices of the one head reads as three voices in the same head but with a different day of the week to fully comply.

With no time left before the ushering off of the premises by the security guards, the slam competitors present arms on stage.

Bardflys triumph as they hold aloft their American Crew hair products and industrie merchandise. Winners over the Token Word and One Word armies of three.

Scoring third in the individual, Ben Ezra. Patrick Alexander takes the second roost and shows up the acceptance speech. Bravo Child triggers a ballistic notion and commotion as he bathes under the non-cash winnings with the first place gold. Pleasant smells waft off of Bravo Child's face and body, shampoo and product covering the scalp and milking the eyeballs, as he makes way for the toilets down stairs and past the guards.

Bravo bathes in product

Miles Merrill breathes a warm parting poem, a nightcap for the evening. Security then make do as the curfew steps into tomorrow and the need to clear out the mess imminent and pressing.