Last night poetry swirled through my head, starting from before the open mic began all the way through my sleep. In my dreams, I saw the faces of poets, heard their words, hopped from reading to reading in order to support my peers. I couldn't tell if I was awake or dreaming as I lay somewhere in a state in between. I think I tossed and turned last night in a whirl as I left one venue and suddenly arrived at the next. When I awoke this morning, I think I was still dreaming.
I now know why I can only have these open mics bi-weekly. They make me nervous and antsy and afterwards I'm in a blissful state of exhaustion and satisfaction. These days I feel like I've accomplished something, even if it's not my career. I just wish the folks back home were around to see it.
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1 comment:
I haven't been to enough spoken word shows to go through that. It sounds cool to me, though, even if it exhausts you.
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