punk

oooh yeah, i'm a punk. i coulda sang last night. really. my voice wasn't that jacked. but for real though, i just punked. plus, my best friend was there. and this guy i have a slight crush on was there. so i just postponed facing my fear and read a coupla poems about love and then sat my narrow behind down. but i still managed to enjoy myself. word to the wise - when you ain't been feeling well and you're still getting over your bug, don't put too much stress on your throat, mmkay? cause you'll be miserable the next day, as i am this morning.

i'll tell you something though. i learned a lesson last night. like to hear it here it go. all the time i been reading, i've been doing it off the paper. at first, because i really didn't expect to start reading my poetry in front of other people. but, i found myself in a situation... you know how it is, so then i read for the first time (got my cherry busted), got some good feedback, and been doing it since. my reading for others is kinda like a good accident that happened to me, so it's not like i been at home planning with my poems, reading and remembering and reciting in the mirror. my thing is more like, i birth it, i re-read it out loud over and over again until it paints the right picture, and then i shove the paper in my black and white marble composition notebook until i wind up at an open-mic and i feel like reading something. and my thing is, if i can convey the same pictures and feelings reading off the paper as i can if i didn't have it in my hand, then why take the time to memorize the piece? cause look, i got a job and things i'm trying to handle, and time spent getting these pieces in my head is not the best use of my time, especially not when i ain't trying to slam or make a cd or any of the stuff poets do with their art. this is casual to me, not crucial, you know?

okay, problem number one. excuses are... well we all know what excuses are. and all that mess about why i'm still reading off the paper looks like a bunch of excuses to me, now that i done typed it out plain for myself and my miniscule readership to see. problem number two - let's get deeper with this. why was i even coming up with excuses? laziness? fear of failure? or even worse (and more likely) fear of success? man, that don't even sound like me. *shaking my head at myself* but here's what was made more evident to me last night on the mic - problem number three: i can't really truly share myself with the folks who are actually being kind enough to listen to me if i can't look them in the eye. i can't respond to their expressions, their mm hmms, nods of affirmation, or shaking heads of dissent - unless i am looking at them and seeing what experience they're having while i tell my mind to them.

last night when i was on the mic, i felt like i was missing something. and halfway through the second poem i read, i realized that it was interaction with the audience. for the sake of not getting lost, i had to keep my eyes on the page the whole time i was up there. and it felt lonely and incomplete.

so now, damn it, i'm sucked in. i gotta learn my frikking poems. and no i'm not happy about the extra step. but i know the next time i get on the mic, i'll be glad i did it. i think i'll enjoy the experience of sharing more. and i think an audience will see more of who i am and not just how well i can read.