Goal!!! – A Celebration on the Q Train

Goal!!! – A Celebration on the Q Train

- Jon Sands

This past Saturday, PUP tried to get the day warmed up for the US soccer team. I like to think we did our part (as did the Q Train… and Ghana). Jared Singer, Adam Bowser, Elana Bell, Ken Arkind, Marcy Alexis, Rico Steal, Syreeta McFadden and I met (as always) at the Gandhi statue in Union Square. We escaped the summer heat to bring our ruckus to the Brooklyn bound Q train.

I’ve got to say, something in spontaneous art has lit a fire for me. I’ve loved each location we’ve been able to “pop up.” Adam Falkner, Samantha Thornhill, and I were asked to pop at the “Hollywood Does Poetry” benefit for Bowery Arts & Science (which meant Adam & I got to shake Tony Soprano’s (James Gandolfini) hand, as he said, “I yain’t nevah seen nuttin’ like dat.” (I wanted to say “f’gedaboutit.”) PUP popped at an Emily Dickinson tribute reading at the Botanical Gardens. Adam Falkner, Eboni Hogan, and I popped up at a party where this amazing advocate of the arts who works for the United Nations unveiled an “art door” of hundreds of compiled poetry lines. Samantha, Elana, and Akua rocked Whole Foods. The spontaneity and surprise, as well as poetry being playful, serious, spontaneous, anything-but-serious, necessary, community-based, loving, and reaching has been the breeze in this entire sail… That said…

Subway readings are my favorite. They’re spontaneous, although less for us than the rest of the train, which makes it even better. Eight of us board, each from different doors. We sit in different seats. Some stand at the handrails, some have sunglasses, some beards down to their nipples, tall, short, guys, ladies, many different shades of amazing. When we’re all separate, our faces don’t scream, “We’re together.” For me, that’s where part of the magic lies.

The doors closed on the second train we boarded Saturday. Marcy hopped up first from the middle of a group of 10 Indian ladies in traditional garb (If she’s afraid of anything, I don’t know what it is). We were trading off the lead off spot. It’s hard to go first because, as far as the whole train knows, you’re not part of any group. You’re just a person speaking to the Q train… But you don’t seem crazy “cause this sounds kinda nice.” You probably are trying to make a buck “but the doors just opened and closed, so if this is a business, it’s not a good one.”

Slowly in that first poem or two, people learn that no one will ask them for dollars. Nothing gives a crowded train more permission to connect than the feeling that they won’t have to pay for it. Marcy finishes her poem to a smattering of applause, as everyone but the poets thinks, “That was a good way to spend 3 minutes (a la Roger BA), and now it’s over, right?” I love this moment. From the other end of the train, Adam Bowser starts his Michael Jackson poem, and by the time he gets to, “Tell them to remember his James Brown!” this train is whooping and hollering. Adam finishes and one of the Indian ladies hops up and starts doing some dance, and all the other ladies and their children are now clapping and cheering and NONE of the train knows who’s with who or what is happening. We’re clapping and chanting as much as they are.

By the time Jared and Ken’s beards emerge from the stream of passengers attached to poems of punk rock, love, and hearts that are volume knobs, you can feel the train thinking, “This is AMAZING.” Am I the only person not a poet?” And might that be how it should be? Isn’t life more fun when you halfway suspect the person next to you has the capacity to change your day, even if they don’t? It’s changed the way I ride the train. It’s changed the way I walk through the city. As if art lurks around every bodega. It’s gonna hop out of a trashcan. I’m in on it, and I still walk around feeling like something amazing could happen at any moment of the day. I would say that’s part of what Samantha, Adam, and I were thinking when we started PUP. We wanted to leave groups of people feeling like art can happen anywhere… like it might be happening right now. Like, a reverse panopticon. I’ll say it has been 38 times more fun and exhilarating to put it into practice than it was to talk about it (and talking about it was FUN).

That’s how Saturday felt. Elana had the music bug and so the Q train was singing! With her! When anyone could be involved, it means you can be involved. New York City…World... Please keep surprising me. It feels way better than all this expecting. Jon Sands and the PUPers, signing off.

Scenes from the Garden... PUP @ NY Botanical Gardens

all photos by Syreeta McFadden.

See Pop Up Poets on Rattapallax

Follow the below link to see PUP in action!


http://www.vimeo.com/12043875

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry, a PUP Story by Syreeta McFadden

Follow the below link to view writer/ photographer Syreeta McFadden's photo essay on PUP's May 16th adventure on the trains.

http://bellewetherstate.com/2010/05/19/crossing-brooklyn-ferry-a-pup-story/

PUP Barks at the Botanical Gardens by Elana Bell

Poetry in the Botanical Garden, popping up like the first buds of spring, and that's what we were on this balmy Saturday afternoon, as we joined Bob Holman and Marilyn Nelson in presenting the poetry of Emily Dickinson, along with original work. Bob had invited us to share his time and add a little something unexpected to the mix.

We got there just as the reading was starting, and planted ourselves at various spots throughout the courtyard. The crowd was intimate, and the smell of too many sweet flowers to name drifted in on the breeze. But looking around at the subdued crowd, I knew they were not ready for what was about to come their way.

Marilyn Nelson started the reading, presenting a group of Dickinson's poems, along with several of her own which referred to Dickinson or touched on her themes. As the gentle applause died down, I looked over at Samantha with a twinkle in my eye. Who knew what was about to happen? We had a few things planned, but as with any PUP event, we knew the magic would unfold in the improvisation of the moment.

Bob took the stage and read the first few lines of Dickinson's "I reckon." Suddenly, Samantha and I popped up to join him, creating a chorus of voices. The audience gasped. Who were these women, not on the program? As we finished the first poem, Bob made the announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to the pop-up poets, PUP, Poetry in Unexpected Places! Careful. You might be sitting next to one of them right now!"

The crowd giggled nervously, and everyone gave a curious glance to their neighbor. The reading continued. Bob read several of his own poems. Then, another surprise. John Murillo took the mic and began to beat box. Ed stepped to the stage and brought his b-boy stance, and Samantha Bob, and I traded lines on Emily's poem "Answer July," where the poet interrogates the month of July, which in turn interrogates, May, which interrogates the Bluejay...

Answer July-

Where is the Bee-

Where is the Blush-

Where is the Hay?

Go ahead. Read it to yourself. It's almost impossible to avoid the rhythm. Who knew? The crowd was stunned. This was not what they were expecting at a tea-time Emily Dickinson reading!

We continued, and although the audience knew to some extent what to expect, we kept surprising them, like when Ed came out with his cult favorite "Alien Registration Number."

And Bob read from his new chapbook Box, of which he explained when he was finished reading, "The book is in the shape of a box. That's the point!"

The last poem was Dickinson's "Wild Nights," which we performed as a group piece, circling the audience repeating the phrase "wild nights" as Bob and Samantha recited the verses. We ended by getting the audience to join in, shouting "wild nights" into the early evening spring air.

Sweet, sweet. The Botanical Gardens will never be quite the same. Thanks Bob! Thank you Emily! Here's to more wild, poetic nights...

Elana, blogging for PUP

PS- After the reading we fielded questions from audience members wanting to know when they could catch the next PUP/Pop up poet event...

Coming soon to a _________near you!

Poems and a Metrocard by Marcy Alexis

Photo by Syreeta McFadden

“What’s your Alien Registration number?” – Ed

Assaulted with poetry! Yes, that’s exactly how I’d like to spend my Sunday afternoon on such a breathtaking day in mid-May.

The weather was a consistent warm hug. As a New Yorker, all you can do is talk about the weather on a day like yesterday.. all day! People were just happy to re-introduce their faces and toes to the sun.

What a day indeed ..my first ride-along with PUP (Poets in Unexpected Places/Pop Up Poets). I was initially hesitant to join this band of poetic misfits, but knew I’d eventually be one of the pack. Especially after hearing the tales of train and supermarket mayhem from their first two adventures. My passion for poetry gets me in all sorts of predicaments!

Samantha, Jon-Ivan, Adam, Ed, Jared, Darian, and Jeanann were my fellow Pop Ups ..as we did just that.

Who will be next? What will they say? Which passenger is really a Poet? Why are they doing this? We made ourselves known randomly ..one by one, as commuters on the Q-train soon realized we were indeed armed with poetry.

PUP popped like kettle corn in five trains yesterday. Most passengers weren’t only receptive, but they were vocal about how much they appreciated the art accompaniment on their commute. Some took pictures, others sat at attention with their children, and still others almost jumped in! Even funnier were the expressions on the faces of those who were about to board our impromptu train takeover! Classic!

Samantha Thornhill set it off with a Lucille Clifton poem, as we later laughed out loud at Jon’s antics about the MTA and “he don’t do nothing but smoke.” Adam eased the tension with a song and a stanza, while Ed hung on arm bars and later introduced us to his not-so-subtle inner stalker.

Jared’s stories of comic books and awkward adolescent glances made us reminisce and smile. Likewise, Darian and his Mom appreciation was felt across the board. A tattooed Jeanann told tales of ripping tin cans with her bare hands ..and yes, we sure did believe her! And ya’ll know me.. well, I’m bad.. "I am a lioness, I’d walk through hell wearing a gasoline soaked dress!" LOL I started a women’s empowerment movement with that poem. The women on the train were more than ready to stand up and douse their dresses with gasoline ..flick, flick .. I’m bad!

Though the day was enjoyable, I’d have to say that the most memorable moments were the ones involving children. We received support from several parents who were overjoyed by our presence. Some children didn’t quite understand all that was being said, or why their Mom/Dad was listening so intently. Yet, they stopped to take note and open their eyes to this world of word and expression.

The Poets all had different accounts of what went down on their end of the train. My personal favorite was one that I didn’t even witness. Jared shared a story about a mother and her two boys. These boys clearly acknowledged their stop on the train and starting to get up. As they were preparing to exit, their Mother firmly took them by the shoulders and sat them back down. That family of three stayed with us for the remainder of the ride. Now that’s love New York!!

Most people take the train to their destination.. well yesterday, the train was our destination ..Pop Up Poets. Where to next?

- Marcy Alexis, Poet with a Metrocard

(Oh, and in case you're wondering, I'm the bald chick wearing the shades ...and my gasoline soaked dress!)

Outside Hollywood Does Poetry

PUP and violinist Janelle X., standing outside after their pop up performance at the annual Hollywood Does Poetry benefit for Bowery Arts & Sciences, our umbrella organization.