Poetry...

The last month has been pretty full of poetry. After having not really written or performed (apart from at our wedding!) since May... I have been determined to 'get back into it', and take as many opportunities as possible to practise, get better, etc. I've performed/read/shared at quite a varied array of events/nights (never quite sure of the correct terms to use!) in the past few weeks. From an open mic in the tiny basement-bit of a pub in Kemp Town with just a few people and a very random selection of performers (including a maths lecture for about half an hour... don't ask me why!!), to my first experience of Poetry Unplugged at the Poetry Cafe (33 poets, with max 5 min each - pretty full on!!), to the beach hut thing I mentioned in the previous post, to two Poetry Slams (Hammer & Tongue Brighton Final and Farrago Poetry UK slam championships).

Now I have to be honest here. At some points during these events, I've wondered what on earth I was doing there. With the greatest respect to other poets, and people who take the risk to share their thoughts and words with others, I have to admit that I often found myself counting down the minutes to when they would get off the stage. I know that's an awful thing to say, but it's true. I don't want to be critical, at the same time I'd be lying if I said I enjoyed every minute of these poetry nights. Sometimes I don't understand about 70% of what is said - and forgive me if this is down to my literary ignorance. Sometimes (often) I just don't want to hear about people's deepest darkest sexual fantasies or how much they hate life. It's pretty draining when the majority of what is said is hopeless, depressing and often anti-God and other things I do believe in. Sometimes the words used are not clever, just crude.

AND WHAT IS POETRY ANYWAYS??!!!!!

And all this leaves me feeling torn... between never wanting to attend a poetry events again, and being even more determined to share my words, which often carry a different message, one more full of hope, of love, of seeing things from a different perspective. And I don't wish to blow my own trumpet - the words I use are simple, my vocabulary is limited, I don't have a lot of knowledge on poets of the past or politics of today. I am nothing special. But I believe in someone who is the Original Word, and for that reason there are I believe I must speak. And if it's only for the reason that the 'ordinary person' in the audience will understand this poem, even if everything else has gone over their head, then perhaps it's worth it. I might be wrong, I might be boring the pants of everyone, I might come across as pretentious (PLEASE tell me if so!!!), but I feel I must at least give this thing a go.

Having said all that, there are other times when I'm totally blown away by the skill and the message and the passion of poets I see and hear. These are the ones who inspire me to write more and write better and put my heart and soul into it. These are the ones I'm so thankful are 'on the mic', the ones whose words are changing and challenging people and situations. These are the prophets the world needs to hear. The ones that make us laugh and cry and stop for a moment to ponder, to reconsider.

So I guess that's what I'm doing this for. But if it becomes about my own fame, or claiming a soapbox just to talk about me, or just another voice saying what everyone else is saying... then please stop me!