On Spoken Poetry

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I enjoy listening to spoken poetry --
Oftentimes more than music even --
Because when I'm alone in my room at night
Alone in my head
And my unrealities become increasingly Real
Increasingly nightmarish
And I think no one could possibly understand what I'm going through --
Not because my thoughts are particularly deep or special
But because they are so frightfully ordinary
And not even worth the first listen-through --
It's difficult for me to concentrate of music
Because music is Special and Interesting and Irrefutable in its own inherent way
While at the same time forming White Noise that says
Over and over
'Your life doesn't matter, least of all to me'
And it bounces around, echoing in my hollow skull
And it jabs at the institution walls wrapped around my tired heart
And it adds to my aloneness
But see, spoken poetry's different
Because the poems are never particularly polished
And they're kind of mumbled off-the-cuff
And the artists always talk about Real things like Real people,
Even if reality's unrealistic sometimes
And dramatic unapologetically
And I get to hear their voices As It Were
Instead of those auto-tuned pitches and assortment of sounds
And I hear the soft hum of a low-quality recording
From the laptop perched at the top of the bed where
They write about their Lives and Feelings and Normality
And it makes me feel a little bit less alone
And so
When all's said and done
Spoken poetry's a pretty cool thing to have

~~~

I like music, I really do. It's just that sometimes, it seems too perfect and polished and pristine, and instead of thinking, 'wow, I'm so glad there are people out there just like me', I just come away with a weariness in my heart. It's odd. Spoken poetry -- with its elegantly phrased words and clear, emotive voices -- ought to give me a similar melancholic feeling, but it doesn't. It always seems to reassure me that no matter how much my mind might be brooding on a particular day, nor how much distance separates my kindred spirits from me, I am never alone. It provides a pleasant (if unexpected) bolstering.

I understand that the quality of this "poem" (not to mention the recording) is mediocre at best. Alas, I do not claim to be an artist. This merely represents me searching for my metaphorical voice. I hope it is an acceptable offering. :)

The First Step

I suppose I ought to start this blog with an outline (a promise?) of the content to come. Is this for your benefit, dear stranger, or my own? I lean toward the latter; I find it very possible that beyond my dim suspicion of the kinds of thoughts and reflections I might endeavor to share here, I need every bit of structure and foresight I can muster. A resolution or personal mission statement, if you will. But maybe this sort of outlining is necessary in the beginning. If every journey must begin with a single step, does that mean the step cannot be had with a general destination in mind?

First, the mood: I would like this blog to be light and airy and pensive, as impromptu as possible. I'd like it to reflect my Real thoughts and feelings, or at least my idealized versions of them. (Should not everyone represent themselves with their most ideal selves possible?) It will more of an online personal scribbling than an intelligent piece of journalism, but I think I'll prefer it that way. Emphasis again on the Reality.

Second, the content: as per the title, I plan to post whatever general musings rouse within my mind. These might be on songs, books (<3), religion, life goals, gender roles, relationships, mental illness, my college-minded ideals of how the world ought to function, and my own acute shortcomings. Also, I'd like to write at least once a week about the little things that make the world shine brighter, like steamy cups of coffee and the smell of musty old books and the powerful tingling in your feet after you climb on top of a pile of rocks. That sort of thing.

Third, the framing device: occasionally, I might diverge from my normal pattern and post topics from the point of view of certain characters in my head. I'll try to limit these posts as often as possible, but it's kind of an inevitable outcome.

Finally, the exigency: in all honesty, I think I just want a voice. (I hope that's not too terribly selfish.) I do journal sometimes, and while that's all well and good for sorting out certain complexities in my mind, all too often I find that I let an assortment of intriguing but peripheral thoughts slip away. Those thoughts aren't necessarily important in the grand scheme of life (which is why I normally let them fade), but I feel that they're integral to my identity and should thus be expressed, preserved, or else more carefully scrutinized.

So there you have it. My first rambling, half-coherent post on this new blog. May it be followed by many more to come!