Going to the poetry readying at Macaulay, made me realize that poetry readings are more than just reading out a poem. We were presented to 4 different writers; each had their own writing style, each had their own way to present it. What I found interesting that the way we present a poem has to reflect what the poem is about. When the writing reflects grief it cannot be read loudly with a happy intonation. Contrary it has to be presented slowly, with respect to writer’s intention.
During the reading, it was the writers themselves who presented their own poems. This can be a good and a bad thing at the same time, for the writer knowing his original intentions has already an inner look at the poem. However, sometimes, a writer can be a bad presenter and than the public cannot fully associate with the poem. During the reading the first poet- Khadijah Queen, had presented her poems, and those didn’t lack in form but in the way they were presented. Her voice didn’t echoed thru the room when she was read her poems, I didn’t feel the pain one suppose to hearing about woman’s nipple being bitten off. Nevertheless the presentation didn’t take away from my interest about this poem. It was very deep and dark. It touched upon an issue not a lot of poets dare to speak of, an issue of spousal abuse.
The next poet- Hermine Pinson was an older lady, who incorporated elements of music into her reading. She, unlike Khadijah Queen, knew how to present her poems. She spoke quietly, sung or screamed, in necessary places. Listening to her read was like listening to a story. Her poems were magical, time breaking, moving. She spoke about her life, the loss of her mother. Not knowing her personally I was able to assimilate with the situations she presented, feel the same emotions she did.
 The atmosphere in the room changed 180 degrees when a newt artist took over the podium. It was Jamaal ‘Versiz’ May the only man to present that night. His style was totally different than the one of his predecessors; he was a performer. His poems were almost as rap song lyrics. In his poem about the war, he gave the words such a speed that they became bullets in the machine gun he talked about. He talked fast but his diction was clear and understandable. He woke me up from the dream I was in and brought me back to a harsh reality.
This realty that was sustained by poems of a Native American writer, Natalie Diaz. Her work was about her personal experiences, ranging from a Halloween celebration when she was a little girl, to having her brother participate in the war. The fact that she used simple language had me attracted to her poetry. I felt her urge to share with the spectator, plain and simply. There was no sugarcoating; no elaborate words, it was just her and the paper and the stories she acquired throughout her life.
This reading was a great way to make me realize how different poetry can be; how many variations there are; how many ways to write it or read it out loud.