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Sunday, November 23, 2008

old blog, new space

I am a Writer. This, of course, doesn't really mean anything. I'm one person in a sea of other people, all who feel the need to express themselves by taking words and putting them in the proper or improper order. We are not the keepers of the truth. It is a misrepresentation of what we do. People have a tendency to think that writers and poets (especially poets) hold up this gigantic mirror and make you look at your own inner reflection until your brain explodes.
If something I write (because I can only speak for myself) reveals some inner truth to you, that's cool. It is never my intention to do that. I'm really just creatively smearing my brains and guts onto a piece of paper and hoping the end result makes some sort of sense.
We hang out in bars and caf├ęs. We try our best to learn from each other, to achieve some sort of growth. It is a quest to push our own personal envelopes. It's a domino effect of inspiration. I like your metaphors, and someone else's imagery and someone else's wordplay, and we all fall down.
I am a Writer, and that entitles me to nothing. In my work, I've hidden my opinions on faith, love, politics, and whether or not I hate the guy standing next to me.
The things I want are rather simple. I've chosen to host an open mic. This puts me in the weird and wonderful position of marketing poetry. I want people to hear your words, and I want them to hear my words. This is a task I've chosen and am grateful to anyone who throws me a bone and helps me out. I try to return the favor as often as possible.
I believe that Chicago is a poetry town. The people I've talked to in other cities seem to think that we have more shows, and more events than anywhere else. I don't know. I'm not keeping score. What I do know is that Chicago is filled with poets, and you can hit a reading any night of the week. I want the rest of the world to know that Chicago is this writing oasis. When people think of this City they remember Michael Jordan or the '85 Bears. Some just think about Al Capone and speakeasies, not about the poets.
Because this is my goal…the thing I can't stand are people who pull this Poetry Community down through feats of sheer negativity. People who name call, mud sling, and slander. I don't care who did what to whom. It's none of my business. This is still a free country and in the Poetry Community it's a free country for a grouping of free thinkers. I think we are old enough to judge who to like, trust, and make connections with.
I am just a writer. These are just observations. Nobody asked for this editorial/essay/diatribe. I offer it up to be embraced, slaughtered, or ignored. In parting…I'd like to say that we are stronger together. It's easier to achieve common goals when we are united.

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