Spoken words and crowbirds.

Hurling Crowbirds at Mockingbars - Buddy Wakefield

Since Adrienne Rich died last week, I've been reading quite a lot of her poetry online. This isn't exactly conducive to studying, but I've been sick to I guess that wasn't going to happen anyway. I really, really love her poetry, and there's probably a post all about her coming up soon. My interest has spread to a couple of other poets too, though. Shockingly enough, not all are on the Leaving Certificate English course, either, though Seamus Heaney is. But who doesn't love Seamus Heaney and his cute little love poems?! Like I said, I've been reading and watching a lot of poetry online of late, because hey, the internet is much more fun out loud. The lovely Dave introduced me to spoken word type stuff (namely the above video) and I think I'm in love. Though I can't make head nor tail of the whole spoken word vs. slam vs. Beat poetry thing. Give me time.

I wish I had the time to spend days and days watching and researching spoken word poetry on Youtube. Like I said, I've only seen bits and pieces. Earlier, I saw a brilliant piece called Homicidal Rainbow on Facebook and I decided I'd have a look again at poets out loud. Alas, all I found was a little bit of Allan Ginsberg (27 minutes long? The sixth year inside me is saying "noooooooooooo!") and then I went back to Adrienne Rich, who of course doesn't count as spoken word poetry. She's mad as a brush and the only poet I've ever read with the balls to use the word "clitoris" in a poem. That's off the point, though. The point is the magic of poetry, the way it can wrap around one's cerebral cortex for days and STILL mean something different a week later.

Unfortunately, poetry is one of those ways of writing that I can't really do. Not for want of trying, as some unfortunate friends and teachers have seen over the years. Can't really do it unless I'm extremely upset, and then it's just terrible. I'll admit that I'm good with words, but I'm not artistic or imaginative enough to create images with words like a poet can. I can knock out a decent essay, yeah, but when it comes to art from words I truly suck. I think that's why I like it so much. Spoken stuff is fantastic, and a lot of it beings back all my Bohemian city feels. But that's a story for another blogpost...so many feelings. Anyway, ...Mockingbars is one such poem. I don't know much about/by this guy, but this poem is incredible. Seriously. I'm not trying to be cool or hip or anything, it's just...insane. It's not even just the words, but the energy, the intensity and the emotion behind it all. I could watch it over and over and still hear new things in it every time.

What's funny about this poem - and about all poetry, I guess - is that we all see different things in it. Maybe it's due to a string of crappy realtionships, but his verses about losing someone - I quote a bit there - tear through me like a freakin' machete. He gets it so, so, right. The pain of it, and there's desperation, too, and the rage, the rage you can feel for being left, for trusting someone and having it wrecked, for feeling like this. Ultimately, neither Buddy nor myself could go on. There's one part -

"if you ever wanna know how it felt when ya left –

if ya ever wanna come inside –
just knock on the spot
where I finally pressed STOP
playing musical chairs with your exit signs."

Ohhhh, it kills me. Those last two lines. It's perfect and it reminds me of Trying To Talk With a Man, my favourite Adrienne Rich poem. Hell, my favourite poem. For much the same reasons - anger and sadness and ripping control away from someone you used to love. Emotion. That's what poetry is about at the end of the day, isn't it? Emotions? Maybe that's what I can't get on a page, for fear of feeling stupid or pretentious. Both of which I've achieved in this post, I think. Oh well.

In summation: I really love Adrienne Rich's poems, but then I really love all poems. And I'm going to write about Adrienne, poetry and FEMINISM!!!! a bit more soon. In the meantime, have a listen to this. It's pretty brilliant.