2004-03-19 - 12:01 a.m.
What fools these Poets be.
We're going to focus on the good. 'Cause we're trying to send out positive vibes. So instead of rehashing worries, I'm going to talk about the Poet's Open Mic at Amici.
First off, I got there late. Well, via the time they were projecting to start, I don't think I actually was. In any case, it had just started. MaryAnne (Not sure how she spells/spaces it, so I'm going to stick with that variation) was already reading to open things. So much more a hurried attempt at being quiet than it is on the few times I get to a regular Friday Open Mic late.
She was doing a first-come signup order, and came over to me to get my name down. I would've been last, but Carlos showed up later than I did, so he was in the final slot.
Everyone who read was, I thought, good. Some stronger at certain points than others (and not all poetry!), but all good. It was one of what I think of as Carlos's less interesting works, but it was still good - his style really is evolving nicely, even since I've been hearing him read on Fridays sometimes. (Carlos, since I don't think I've mentioned him before, is a Slam poet.)
After it wrapped up, MaryAnne and a woman I do not know (and did not think to ask for a name) were both expressing positive things about what I'd read. I stood there and gibbered like an idiot until MaryAnne told me that, "This is the part where you say 'Thank you, I know.'" The other woman, who apprantly also writes poetry but was unwilling to stand in front of a room of intent listeners and read it (oh how I can understand that!) chuckled and said something to the effect that Poets don't talk well, they go home and write instead. In this case I could only agree.
Got a double espresso before they closed up selling for the evening. Walked over to express my appreciation for a Housman (sp, probably) reference a retired professor who'd read had made. Was promptly invited to sit down and join the discussion he was having with another fellow who'd read. (Who's name I did not think to ask, in spite of the fact that he asked for mine - having forgotten it from when I introduced myself before reading)
I'm going to wind up utterly out of order somewhere around this point, I think.
Talked to MaryAnne a bit more. Told her about how I was rather surprised to find it was actually less intimidating to read in front of people who'd come for poetry and were listening closely. I'd rather expected the reverse to be true.
She said I had a good "stage presence" and that I'd seemed very calm and collected. Evidently my comments about how I hoped they'd forgive disorginization - I'd spent most of the time I should've been picking pieces instead thinking of excuses I could use if I successfully talked myself into not showing up - went over rather well as sort of bantery jokes, I guess.
She and at least one other (I've forgotten who entirely) expressed appreciation that the pieces I read showed a mix between lighthearted and more serious works.
On the way out, (just behind the Woodwards), I chatted for a moment with a woman - the name of whom I evidently should know, but do not - a bit. She and Josh were discussing the apparant differences in difficulty (which seem reversed depending on which side of the line you're on) between writing intentional poetry vs writing intentional lyrics. She became at least the third fellow-reader to ask/express interest about if I'd be coming back for the next poet's night.
Sarah, by the way, also read. And was quite good. I especially liked the poem about the birds, and the one about the quilt. She's let me read pieces of her's before, but it's quite different (as some of you may know) hearing the poet read their verse. I very much hope she reads again next time.
Next time will be a fitting kickoff to National Poetry Month. (April.) They've decided to run these things the first Thursday of every month. And the first Thursday in April happens to be April 1st. So April Fool's day will be a poet's night. Oddly fitting. As someone read (the poetry reading equivilent of a cover, you might say) - though I cannot now remember who the poet was. I want to say it was Coleridge, but I can't be sure. (Oh bother, can't remember the phrasing either) Poets may be fools, but not all fools are poets.
So, yeah. Combination adrenal/endorphin high and ego boost. A measure of creative validation. Having a pleasant time, that would have been so even without reading.
All that on top of the stellar mood I'm in anyway.
And to think I only got a bit more than 4 hours of sleep. *chuckle* Which was also well worth it - the lack being caused by time spent on the phone.
That's somehow almost funny; I'm usually one of those "not the phone" people, after all.
previous howl
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Murrrrrrffff? - 2005-01-04
A Late Review - 2004-09-12
Weekend Update - 2004-08-08
Intermission - 2004-08-07
Rambling or something. - 2004-07-31
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