May 2, 2013

Dear Angelynn,

I went to a poetry slam yesterday. I always found that even the title of the event "Poetry slam" makes it sound poetic. Like people are fiercely firing out their words to slam down their inner demons and give voice to the topics that torment them inside and make people understand. And sometimes, it does work, the ferocity behind the hot, heartfelt words makes my heart race and my ears open, and for once I feel like an empathetic person, which I most definitely am not... Maybe it's because they're speaking some sort of coded language that only writers understand. Or maybe I understand because I want to. I'm not sure. 

I knew deep down inside of me that if I went I would want to write something beautiful and poetic just like them. I want my words to pour out like this beautiful innuendo of grace and eloquence and just pure beauty, even if the words are churning and seething with anger... they always manage to turn out beautiful with poetry.

But Angelynn, I'm not eloquent. I can't write poetry. My words don't tumble out gracefully, and flow smoothly like a river. I think I sound like rapids, going from 100 miles of bubbly white danger, to a soft patch of meandering streams and back again. Like that sudden jolt of the roller-coaster after it reaches its destination, but lacking the thrill of the actual ride. My poetry, and probably my writing in general is choppy and boring and dull and confusing. And it just sounds stupid sometimes, doesn't it Angelynn.

Maybe I'm just being melo-dramatic. I feel like poetry can do that to you sometimes... Not that there weren't funny, lighthearted poems as well. There were, but they don't give me that horrible itch to write like the heartfelt ones do. There's just something about poetry that makes me want to write and makes me realize how awful I really am at writing.

I heard somewhere that, "Anybody can be a writer, but not everybody can be a poet." Can I just give a big amen, because I can call myself a writer, but I can't write a decent poem to save my life.

And Angelynn, you wouldn't believe the performances of the poetry as well. It's like their souls were standing right in front of me in all their anguish and worry and distress. All of their longing and desires and heartache, splayed right in front of me. I could hear it. I could see it. I could feel it. And ugh, I just wish I could do that as well.

I don't even know what I'm doing wrong, but I physically cannot write a poem. It just doesn't happen. 

I think maybe it's because I don't observe enough and I don't do enough things and I don't know who I am, Angelynn.

I'm just lost. All those poets, they know what they're talking about. They see the world around them, and they feel the world around them, and they know and understand the world around them in ways that common-folk like myself can't. The poets see the world differently, I'm sure of it. They understand people, they know what the people want to hear, and so the poets write. They relate the world as they understand to us, and we can just listen and be stunned at the marvelous workings of their minds.

Angelynn, I'm not going to force you to write poetry or change the way you think so that it sounds eloquent and beautiful (although, that would be really cool.) I just want you to try to understand, okay? Listen to people, because they deserve to be heard, because you want to hear what they have to say. Try new things, experiment, be brave, and just go with it, okay? Because poetry cannot be forced, and life can't either.

You don't have to be a poet, Angelynn, but could you act like one? Can you outwardly show people the inner flickering of your soul and have them understand you? Can you understand yourself for me?

xx

Angela