Open Mike Night

Last night I went to the monthly Open Mike Night for the St. Louis Writers Guild. (Dictionary.com lists both "mic" and "mike" as acceptable spellings--do my readers have a preference?) After I had registered to read, I realized that perhaps it would have been wiser to go and just listen at the first one--but oh well. I chose three poems and practiced reading them through a few times that afternoon.

I'm glad I went. Reading my work aloud reminded me that poetry is different when spoken; you notice the musicality more, the internal rhyme and repeated words. When you consider how to help an audience follow what you've written, you realize the importance of clarity and structure. When you have a chance to perform your words, you have to think about pacing and body language and eye contact.

The work read varied a great deal: rhyming poetry about a chipmunk, a story about an army of the undead, an essay about pointlessness, a memoir about being adopted. The critical part of me wanted to evaluate everything and note any clichéd phrases, or admire the vivid bits of writing. I tried to let go of that critical voice, though, and appreciate what I was hearing.

I thought back to a conversation Tom and I had had about how we live in a professional rather than a participatory culture. We watch sports on TV and go to the ballet, but not many of us also play sports and dance. Two hundred years ago, if you wanted to listen to music, you had to play it yourself or find somebody who could; now, you can turn on your iPod and hear songs far better than anything you or your acquaintances can do. While it's nice to be able to hear professional music at the click of a mouse or the touch of a button, there's also value in participating. The poems I read in this year's Pulitzer-Prize winner Late Wife were better than any of the poetry I heard last night, but it was special to see people standing up and sharing their words with others.

It made me think about the poetry unit I taught in 9th grade. At the end of the unit, we held a coffee house (though technically most of the students chose hot chocolate rather than coffee). We put together a booklet of original poems for each class, and students could get up and read to each other. That was always one of the most enjoyable days of the year, and not just because we could eat cookies in class. I wanted students to see poetry as a form of communication--something exciting and interesting that they could do.