Today I went to a poetry reading at my school. The featured poet was Karen Finneyfrock.
My creative writing teacher told me last quarter to come to this, but I completely forgot about it until I got an email from her earlier today. Luckily, I got off work 30 minutes beforehand. I don’t normally have such good luck.
So I went, and it was amazing. I don’t even know what to say. She was fantastic. I was blown away by how skilled she was. She had such control over language. I mean, usually, I just throw words on a page, and it totally sounds like I just threw them on a page. But her poems sounded like they had been specially crafted, like she spent hours and hours sculpting them and molding them and making every word count. That’s one of the things that always tends to blow me away by skilled writers. Every. Single. Word. Counts. They all pack a punch.
They say in writing classes to make every word count, but they never tell you how to make them count.
I wish I knew how.
I left there feeling equal parts amazed at her skill, embarrassed at my own writing, and envious, wishing I could write like her.
Not only that, but before she presented, we had a student performer present a piece of slam poetry. I always knew that slam poetry was very rhythmic, but DAMN that girl had amazing control over her rhythms and beats.
Holy shit. Oh my God. I love poetry so much.