When I was 15, I took my very first creative writing class. I was naturally apprehensive, being a small and relatively awkward sophomore in a class filled with mostly juniors and seniors, and I hadn't the foggiest idea of what to expect. All I knew was that I liked writing poetry, that I seemed to have a knack for figurative language, and that I wanted to learn more.

One of our first assignments was to put together a portfolio of things that we considered to be "art." It didn't have to be writing, but it could be. It could take the form of whatever moved you creatively and emotionally. I had little to no awareness of music or art that wasn't precisely popular, and thus my portfolio consisted of some novels, some poems and maybe a song or two. But my classmates used the most beautiful things. Music I had never heard of, pieces of art that confused and fascinated me, and most importantly, I was introduced to performance poetry.

Essentially, it is self explanatory. A poet gets up in front of an audience and delivers their spoken word. They perform, experience the poem with the crowd. Sometimes it is set to music, other times not. And in my (probably unpopular) opinion, this can be infinitely more powerful than music. Here's why:

It is so, so much more personal.

With music, often the lyrics are more generic, created to appeal and move large numbers of people. Not that there is anything at all wrong with this. I love music as much as the next person. I need it to get me through sad times, hard workouts and of course to blast in the car. But what is so special about spoken word poetry is that it allows for the poet to leave the audience's emotions out of it, and instead of using lyrics to enter the audience's world, brings the audience into their world. You can speak on issues that are important to you, whether they be of global significance, or only hold importance within the four walls of your home.

It is cathartic, moving and yet difficult in a way that singing and instrumentation is not. You hear every crack in the poet's voice. You feel every line that broke their heart to write. You laugh and cry with them. You understand.

A performance poem allows for extended metaphors and language that the structure of song-writing does not. It can be a whole developed story, it can feel like someone's entire lifetime was poured into that poem. There are phrases, images, ideas that you could not even imagine to exist before you heard them spoken out loud. In the poem that began it all, started my obsession, opened my eyes to a form of art more impressive than I ever knew, Andrea Gibson says, "I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree/and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers,/ and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath/the first time his fingers touched the keys/the same way a soldier holds his breath/the first time his finger clicks the trigger./We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe."

We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

That. That is the line that sold me.

And I suppose that in a way, I am trying to sell you. If you love language, if you are someone who listens to music for the lyrics, if you are a writer in any sense of the word, then watching these performances by these brave and talented people will probably impact you similarly to how it has impacted me. Here are a few of my favorites...

"Birthday" - Andrea Gibson

"Human the Death Dance" -Buddy Wakefield

"Convenience Stores" -Buddy Wakefield

And so many more. Take a watch, take a listen. These pieces helped me through a lot of hard times. Maybe they can do the same for you.