Posted: September 20, 2010 in CPC, Poetry
Tags: ,

Capital Slam on Saturday started out pretty rocky but turned into a very solid show. Our second show of the season, and already our first SELL OUT!

Poetic Speed, Komi Olafimihan was our feature and he was great! I have been fortunate to be on a Slam team with Komi in both 2008 and 2009 as well as spending time with him when I am with the Recipe. I consider him a friend but more than that, I consider him one of the most talented people I have ever met.

Chris Tse won the slam again (2 for 2 this year), but was followed tightly by an impressive debut by Mack Cannon. In fact, it was only a time penalty that took the win from the newcomer. The top five rounded out with Elle P, ArRay-of-WoRds and Jessica Ruano.

I missed the second round by .1, which is kharma because last slam I only got in by .1.

CONTEXT: August, 2010

This a poem I wrote but have never (and may never) perform. It is pretty on the nose so not a whole lot of explanation is needed.

What I will say is that I topped out at 300 pounds and as of this morning I was down to 278.8 pounds. Moving in the right direction.


Here I stand
More mountain than man
As I try to put a positive spin
On what everybody can see
But nobody wants to say.
I am fat.
Trotting around with a hundred
Extra pounds
Leads to comments like BIG,
IMPOSING, BROAD, or for some –
(nobody has ever called me jolly)
It also leads to comments
Past the back of the hand
Or maybe that’s just me
Talking about me.
I wasn’t always this way.
In high school I was a
With a metabolism that
Cranked out at quadruple speed
So that my need to feed
Almost became a joke.
I was an athlete –
Well, maybe a mathlete
But weight gain never even
Crossed my mind.
Until my metabolism decided
It had worked enough for
Two lifetimes and my
Appetites decided they were
Just getting started.

When did food become my pacifier
For self-respect?
When did self-fulfilling
Become self-destructive?

Feel good about yourself,
I hear.
Love the body you are in.

Well, I hear some other things, too.

Cardiovascular disease
Gall-bladder disease
High cholesterol
Type 2 diabetes

My father had a stroke at 25
It was from defect
Rather than neglect
But am I still playing
Genetic roulette every time
I take that fourth slice of
Pizza or my daily allotment
Of Vitamin Coke passes the
Liter mark?

I don’t want this to be me
Defined by a growing resemblance
To Santa Claus as age turns
Red to white.

I want to stop reading this poem
And have people say he is a
Fraction of the man he used to be.

But until then, I am what you see
And my weight is what defines me.


Next is a poem that I seem to like more than anyone else does.

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