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Performance poetry: Learning the hard way. (Is there any other?) / 21 November 2014

Doing and learning
I'm learning by heart
some poems I wrote
in a class started
by our slam impresario
the end of the course
is nigh and resistance
is as useless
as punctuation
in a poem
as if
performance is inevitable
but not humiliation
providing I learn my lessons and lines
so to speak
to keep breathing
not like underwater swimming
of an altogether different kind
absolutely no deep-end
clichés here but indeed it is quite scary
I’m not afraid
shoulders back
down and relax
what becomes of my arms
no one knows
it seems a long way down to my hands
anything can happen
feet under my hips straight so
the assumption is
stand up for ten minutes
with nothing to lean against
I feel an access issue
coming on
belly out
power inside
my own
natural voice
the same voice
I use to voice
and love
to say

Explanation for the title of the picture

This is a photograph (digitally adjusted) of my fridge door, taken about an hour before uploading the image. This arrangement of the poetry tiles has been in place for almost four years. Why I don't change it is a mystery. Maybe now it has been 'captured' digitally, I will feel OK about rearranging the words or even finding some new ones...