Poetry Anyone?

Recently I decided it was time to start further exploring the cultural revolution I have been hearing so much about in Brisbane.  “Speed Poets – this Sunday” I read with anticipation in the Sunday paper.

Pulling up outside of Alibi on Brunswick Street later that day I hesitated a little, not sure exactly what to expect.  I enter and a finger points to the staircase in the corner.  I begin my descent into darkness.  I can hear voices and see the outlines of darkened bodies in front of me. Lots of people are dressed in black, squeezed together and standing at the back of a long narrow, dark room.  A real mix of people surround me.  Some old, some young, some downright freaky looking.  That is to be expected at a poetry reading though isn’t it? It may be one too many comedies requiring audience participation that fuels my anguish, but it takes a while for the mind to slow down and actually listen to the words.  I listen and slowly start to appreciate.  The sophistication of poetry: the rhythm of words, the romance behind them.  ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day….’  Poetry and romance have long been intertwined. Speed poetry is a little different.  Traditional poetry is described as the art of writing or speaking in rhythmical verse in order to express beautiful, imaginative thoughts.  Modern poetry can take on a very different slant.  It is also an expression of our darker selves: our anger, hatred, grief, loss and revenge.  It’s deeply personal and emotive.  One reading and you glimpse deeply into this person’s life. How brave are these folk?  They carry their words in old note books, undoubtedly completed in deep, private thought and isolation.  Now, their most intimate thoughts and feelings are projected into a room full of strangers. Poetry is also about performance, it needs to be performed well.  Then again if the poetry is not good, no amount of performance will help.  Poetry should never be about poo.  Note to speed poets for future reference. After an hour and a half, my first speed poets session was coming to an end.  For me, the winners of the day were the women in their 20’s.  Sharp, sassy and evocative – a few of their lines touched me unexpectedly.  Some of the speed poets were very good, some were okay and a few were truly awful, forcing to a ‘happy’ place until they finished. History is littered with amazing female poets but there is something that links poetry to a tortured soul too.  Anyone who has read the life of Sylvia Plath can bear witness to an extraordinary talent wasted on unrequited love.  There seems to be a theme that emerges here with women and poetry.  Look at the work of other female poets, Emily Dickinson, Amy Lowell, Emily Bronte, Hilda Doolittle, Deborah Ager and Maya Angelou. Poetry, comes from the Greek poesis meaning ‘making’ or ‘creating’ and has a long history.  As an art poetry may out date literacy itself.  In prehistoric and ancient societies, poetry was used as a way to record cultural events or tell stories.  Poetry is amongst the earliest records of most cultures with poetic fragments found on monoliths, rune stones, and stelae. I was intrigued watching the room begin to thin out.  Who are these people and where do they go after bearing their souls?  I wandered back out on to Brunswick Street feeling different.  Not on a high or a low, but feeling like I had experienced something quite unique.  There is something inspiring about watching others be so raw with their emotions in public.  Good poetry should do this, reach in and stroke your insides. I have written one poem in my life.  I might try some more now. Do you write poetry?  Who are your favourite poets? Do you attend poetry readings here in Brisbane?  How intertwined do you see poetry and romance?

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