The other day, I decided to do something equally exciting and scary. You all know that I've been getting into poetry and that I've written quite a bit of my own (much more than a bit if you count the ones that will never see the light of day or be read by any eyes but my own), but I decided to take this passion to the next level. Just within the last few months I have discovered the art of spoken word poetry. This is poetry that people write for the purpose of performing in front of an audience. The style of poetry that I write leans in this direction, and, the more I watch YouTube videos of people performing their poetry, the more I want to do it too. So, the last Wednesday, I did exactly that.

I found an open mic group on the MeetUp app that gets together every other Wednesday to perform their poetry at a venue. In my everlasting battle to get myself to do things that scare me, I decided to join and bring a few poems of my own to the event. We met at a local café in Denver, the Blush and Blue, and although only about 10 of the 22 people who said they were going to attend actually did, I was scared out of my mind. Not only was I on a high from the adrenaline rush of finding parking in downtown Denver, but my mind still hadn't registered the fact that it was about to do the one thing that I deemed impossible for the majority of my life: public speaking.

I brought more than a few poems with me but I only ended up reading two out loud. Needless to say, my performance was poor. I simultaneously tried to speak into and hide behind the microphone, and my eyes didn't lift off the papers I held until the very end. Although I was only on stage for probably about five minutes, it felt like I had been speaking an eternity. Afterwards, the nine other people (who struggled to fill the room) applauded and I shyly meandered down the stairs to my seat. Whether they were simply applauding out of politeness or out of genuine bliss, it didn't matter. My stomach filled with some odd sort of joy I hadn't felt before. I wasn't able to put a finger on it until after the meeting was over.

Towards the end, one of the other poets who performed approached me and began to talk with me about my poetry. It surprised me; I never thought someone would actually want to know the muse behind my words, but the more we spoke, the more I could see his desire to have one too. A muse. The more we talked, the more I could see the gears in his head begin turning; he began writing lines of his own poetry in his mind. I was overjoyed with being the person to see that glint of passion in eyes and hold up the mirror so he could see it too. By the end of out conversation, he walked away with poem ideas scuttling about in his head and I with the same joyful feeling in my chest. This time, I could put a finger on exactly what it was: complete satisfaction.

That's pretty anti-climatic right? But to think that I hadn't felt this sensation before that night made it even more special. I had finally found my niche, the thing I want to do for the rest of my life. Not only do I want to be as good as those poets on YouTube (I have a long, long ways to go until I am that good), but I want to help inspire other people to do the same. The world could always do with more poets and if I can help with that, then I'd be happy for the rest of my life. I love writing and reading my poetry aloud, and I especially love it when others get inspiration of their own from them. I'm not trying to sound conceited (every poet is conceited), but sharing my art in this way makes me feel like I'm on top of the world.

Also, if any of you want to come to a future open mic meet up like the one I did to share your own poetry or simply listen to others, I welcome you to join! You can either get the MeetUp app and join the Denver Area Poetry Open Mic group or just get a hold of me and I'll bring you along next Wednesday as my plus one. I highly encourage coming! It's something you won't forget. Plus, it's a safe space for anyone to share their poetry, thoughts, ideas, etc. We're all just figuring it out and that's the fun of it.