Doctor Grandma

My husband has this incredible skill of organizing events and getting people involved in things. His latest kick is poetry. Not only has he started a poetry venue twice/mo., but he holds it in downtown Columbia, he gets professors of English, musicians black & white, people from the Columbia Arts Federation and many others to come. His venue is now booked through November. What are his qualifications? None! Except for this talent of his to organize people to get to events, and a new avid interest in writing and the muse.

This past week I attended my first one. Fourteen different individuals got up and recited or read an original piece of poetry (including myself and him). Two were African American high school students who had won some recognition or contest. There was an upbeat excitement in the air. The bagel shop said it was worth it for him to open his shop and he was pleased. A poet/musician sand and read his featured work. I read my poem in honor of Naylah’s birth, but it was about the waiting time just before she arrived.

Then the next night we attended an informal music venue at a small restaurant. We all sat outside where there were white and colored lights hung around a small stage. People were drinking beer and a faint mj smell at times appeared. The people were relaxed and friendly and everyone had a good time. There was a young teenage band playing when we arrived. Lots of different types of singers played their tunes and a featured local singer played guitar and sang from about 10-11. I always personally feel uncomfortable at these events, because I want to hide from people and it is scary to me, to be in a crowd of people I don’t know at all. That’s just my gut feeling. They were all fine people, I know this about myself, and know that this too shall pass. So I sit and smile, enjoy the music and force myself to interact somewhat. I’d really rather be invisible.

The other thing that bothers me is, these people are all really nice people but they all write “poetry” and sing songs about drinking, smoking and getting in bed with someone. That’s really what it’s all about, that’s what they write about. It just gets tiring after awhile……………… like watching 6 movies and they all had the same theme. Ok, what else are we? What are we really here for? Can we think outside the box of what’s immediately in front of us and tonight’s posibilities, come on. There is more out there folks. We are near 60 years old and some of you are still making jokes about smoking weed. I don’t really know how many nights per week I can do this…… I don’t drink, don’t smoke and don’t really think of getting laid all that often anymore….. and I love life, kids, interaction, walks, my job, and swimming. I just don’t think of getting high like I did when I was 20.

This entry was posted on August 13, 2010 at 11:37 pm and is filed under poetry, various personal musings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.