TheBanyanTree: When I read

[Mike Pingleton]

I admire your courage, Dave. I've never attempted any open-mike readings.
-Mike

On Thu, Feb 16, 2012 at 5:53 AM, <dseaman77 at gmail.com> wrote:

> I think I will do okay. But about halfway through the anxiety sets in and
> becomes apparent in my voice. I can't see the crowd. Just the lights
> shining in my eyes, and the microphone. I step up. There is no way to
> monitor the sound so I just speak in good faith. Hope that I am being heard
> cause I sure as hell cannot project worth a damn.
>
> My throat tightens up, like I said, about halfway through. It was the same
> thing in communications class. Whenever it was my turn to speak I would
> start strong but at around the halfway point my throat would dry up and my
> voice got all wonky.
>
> Luckily I have the copy of the poem in front of me. A smarter person would
> be able to recite from memory. A smarter person would have a bottle of
> water with them on stage. But I read. Hide my eyes in the words. Wonder why
> the hell I even wrote them. What does this mean anyways? I think I just
> string words together that sound good but then when I read them it just
> sounds like gobbledygook spewing from my mouth.
>
> But then it is over and the people clap. The applause is loud even though
> perhaps forced a little, out of kindness for the bell shaped old fart with
> his grey whiskers and goofy hat. And poetry that makes no sense.
>