Poets Unite

Okay, all you poets out there in writer-land. I’ve come to tell you that you missed the boat. Yep, that boat, the riches and fame boat.

If you’re like most poets you either: A) Don’t publish or get paid in any way for the beautiful words you write, or B) Settle for anywhere from a few dollars to maybe as high as $50.00 for each poem. (A real windfall) But there’s a market that most poets have overlooked and it’s made up entirely of people just like you, at least on the inside they are.

Rap Music. Yep that’s what I said. What is a ‘Rap Singer?’ but a coffee house poet? Complete with bongo player behind him banging out the beats and occasionally adding a little riff in between stanzas. And face it these people are ‘singers’ in absolutely no sense of the word. They talk the entire song, or scream, or plead, but they do not sing. The songs are what most songs are, poems: either that or they are a string of expletives that would make Andrew Dice Clay blush. Rap music doesn’t not require that it’s ‘singers’ be able to carry a tune, merely that they posses the rhythm that any self-respecting poet possess’, most are probably even tone deaf.

And yet, here they are, coffee house beatniks in ‘gangsta-rap’ clothing, making a killing in an industry flush with money to burn. You don’t even have to have great pronunciation skills to be at the top of the heap in your newly chosen field. My son was blasting one of his favorite songs the other day in his room. This was a song that I’ve heard repeatedly over the last few months, thanks to him, not by any free choice of mine. Every time I heard the song, I could have sworn in the chorus the ‘singer’ shouted PUMPKIN HEAD, PUMPKIN HEAD, I was dutifully informed yesterday by my fifteen-year-old son that the words were ‘up in the head’… (I’m sorry but I will forever believe that artist had just watched the movie Pumpkin Head…)

It isn’t even necessary to have something of social importance to say, although it appears to be helpful to bemoan your plight in the world. That’s what poets do best, isn’t it? You can even throw in the occasional beautiful tree on a ‘B’ side track just to satisfy your own internal desire to believe that the world isn’t really as warped as the ‘A’ side of your single would have everyone believe. Life is good. Just don’t make it too good, because angst sells. There are very few ‘happy’ rappers. See, another common thread between rap artists and poets. It’s a perfect blend.

So I’m here to say: Poets of the writer’s community UNITE! We have a way to make it big in today’s world of the rich and famous. Do you think there’s room for a middle-aged, housewife, mother of two teenagers in the rap market? Fame and fortune here I come.