Closet Poet

Words. They are often on the tip of my tongue and at the same time completely out of my reach. I imagine myself grasping in front of my face at the the thin air that slips between my slender fingers, trying to hold onto them tightly, as if they had some sort of mass that I could grip. I have these moments of genius where I feel that I have finally found the best way to express the cries in the depths of me, both joyful and pained, and then someone else comes in who seems to know me much better than I know myself, and they say what I've been wanting to say all along. This is why I love slam poetry.


I have been watching a lot of it lately on the internet. I love the images that my mind creates as I listen to these normal people give abnormally insightful and eloquent four minute speeches on life subjects. The poets captivate me, motivate me, provoke emotions from me, promote creativity in me. I have never found both a better outlet for me after a hard day (or conversely a great day) and a more effective motivator for my own writing. I get home, sit on the couch, and observe; observe a passion I have, the words I wish I had, and a bravery to share it all. 


Performance poetry is one of those things that I imagine myself doing well, but have no idea where to begin. The arts are dying, and as an artist, the slow, rotting demise stares blankly at me, as if asking for help. Yes, there is a thriving community of musicians around me, and I am very thankful to have my foot in the door. Maybe if I were more involved in other aspects of the arts, I would know where to look for such things. There has got to be some closet performance poets who convene on a regular basis, sharing their thoughts, their wisdom, their words.


Words. They enslave me, and yet I live to tell my story. I stutter, am tongue tied, but can't stop talking once you get me started. How beautifully they can come together, not just to make sentences, but to paint pictures in vivid colours only your mind could conceive. This art should not die. 

-SP