It’s been a while since I stepped to a mic to read. I’ll be at the Mad Poets Festival this year in Media, PA. October 11th, 12-4PM Hopefully I’ll see you!
It’s been over a year since I attended an open mic or any event where I was asked to recite or read poetry. It’s not because I fell out of love with poetry or tired of the poetry and open mic scene, I’ve just been navigating some time consuming parts of life, including my health, kids, home and happiness and it often left me too tired to jump in my car or on a train to do much else.
I am missing the city. Living in the suburbs was more palpable when it was just a choice I made to be closer to my job. I didn’t plan on raising a family here, but when that happened, I took advantage of the adequately funded school district and quiet nights. But now as I’ve aged, I miss the life I had decades ago when I could work a full day, take care of the home and still have energy to get a shower, change clothes, kiss the kids and head out the door with my nerves to enjoy an evening of artistry, sometimes sharing my own.
Last month, a dear friend held her first art show in the city. It was a gorgeous night, and I had been in town already visiting my brother recovering from a pretty intense, six hour surgery. I was exhausted mentally and physically and hadn’t eaten dinner, but I wanted to show up for my friend and I knew that I could get a bite to eat close by the gallery. I missed most of the event, but arrived in time to watch her surrounded by family and friends and her art work. I felt so much love in the room, and was thrilled for her, while still carrying sadness from the hospital visit.
Her son had picked up his guitar and started singing “come, healing come” and I felt grief starting to weep from my heart. The feeling overwhelmed me – that words can elevate deep feelings that need to erupt and heal from the heart. It was the essence of poetry for me. The food was gone and my stomach was growling but I stayed for what my heart needed for nourishment. Somewhere during the night I found myself singing the same words in harmony with another musician and another visitor joined us. It had been years since I sang and my voice hasn’t been the same since Covid, but no one cared. It brought me back to the reason I loved to be in the midst of poets. It wasn’t for the nerve-shattering readings, it was the community and the surprise of inspiration flowing within the rooms.
I accepted the invite for the Mad Poet’s Festival this year, and I’m not sure what I’ll be reading, but I’ll be reading. The event held Sunday, October 11th from 12-4PM is in Media, PA and almost close enough to walk from my home, so it’s convenient for me. I am at the age where I don’t care to stress myself about trying to memorize a poem to perform. I can still recite my favorite poems from memory – even the one I wrote in third grade – but if I can’t, that’s okay. I will read and read the way that I feel the words and that’s all that matters to me. That and the inspiration I get from sitting in a room full of poets, unafraid to share their words too. And maybe I’ll see you soon in the city.
Much love,
Toni
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