About me in general:
- I am a kaleidoscope of contradictions…
- Mother
- Writer
- Artist
- Accountant
- Purveyor of porn
- Adamant atheist
- Supremely spiritual being
- Sometime slam poet
- Amateur sci-fi & comic book geek
- Casual gamer
- All around pervert
- Sensual sadist
- Sensation junkie
- Voyeur
- Pansexual
- Polyamorous
- Seeker of all things beautiful
- Often sarcastic
- Frequently vulgar
- Politically incorrect
- Loving, of specific individuals and humankind in general
- Confused, self-conscious, insecure and confident, all at the same time
About me as a poet:
Delisile was the slam Champion of Champions three seasons in a row at the Cantab until she forfeited her title at the end of 2003 when she took a hiatus from the slam scene to focus on family and work and mundane things such as the meaning of her existence. In 2002 and 2003 she was a member of the Boston Lizard Lounge Slam Team that attended the National Poetry Slam. During the 2003 National Slam in Chicago she ranked third in the individual competition out of over 200 poets nation wide. In 2004 she was nominated by Cambridge Poetry Awards for Outstanding Slam Female and Performance Poet of the Year.
Almost of my poetry is available here on my website, even stuff I am ashamed of. There a few pieces floating around on facebook and my harddrive that haven’t made it here but I am adding those pieces as i remember them/find them. I do not (and likely will never) have a chapbook available. Some poems are clearly “works-in-progress” but I have a tendency to revisit and edit old pieces. I am trying to make a habit of saving previous drafts and versions and provide a link to those but I haven’t quite gotten into the habit. Needless to say I view all my pieces as fluid and open to change whenever the mood strikes me.
It’s all about me, the art, the poetry, everything. I am not capable of striving to improve my craft without killing my joy. As such I renounce my efforts to become a better writer or artist. I will, however, still strive to be a better person… Unfortunately I will continue to mock (sometimes in poor taste and poor form) bad poetry and bad art even as I continue to be a perpetrator. I don’t think I am going to apologize for this.
Some of my thoughts about performance poetry:
I believe wholeheartedly in the concept of performance poetry and make no effort to present myself as a literary or page poet. I feel that sometimes in an effort to bring legitimacy to performance poetry and slam poetry we try to pander to the perceived superiority of “real literature”. I have no problem with literature but coming from Southern Africa perhaps I have a different view of what performance poetry is. It is not a bastard offshoot of literature, it is a descendant of an old art that speaks directly to the masses (think of our story-tellers, and praise poets, the mourner at funeral that takes on the voice of all those grief stricken). Don’t get me wrong, there is some dreary and drab slam/performance poetry out there and like any art we fall prey to trends and cliched styles. But this is true of all categories of art, it is just more clearly visible in performance poetry because there is so little a barrier between the artist’s work room and the final presentation at the mic. I also think there is a lot of overlap in the genres and plenty for performance poets to learn from literature and theater and song. I, however, pledge allegiance to the concept of performance poetry and slam as opposed to “literature”. When I write, I am (almost always) writing for the stage and not the page and I will be making no excuses or apologies for it. I am not following the traditions of Frost, or Keats, or Dickson, I am following the tradition of the imbongi (praise poet, literal translation is “he/she who give thanks”). And yes, I am bastardizing it to suit my own nefarious and egocentric purposes.
“The voice is mother to the word” ~ Jack McCarthy