Some poems simply refuse to be delivered with a steady voice, however much you practice
Dear diary, I performed a genuinely new, genuinely personal poem tonight at a small London open mic, and my voice shook through the entire third stanza despite having practiced the piece steadily at home all week, proof that some material simply refuses to be delivered calmly no matter how much rehearsal precedes it.
The poem draws directly on family stories about migration, the specific weight of leaving one home to build a life in another, material that apparently retains its emotional charge regardless of how many times I have written and rewritten the actual words on the page.
How The Audience Actually Responded
The room stayed genuinely, completely silent through the shaky third stanza, the specific kind of silence that tells you people are actually listening rather than simply waiting politely for their own turn at the microphone, a response that meant more to me than any applause could have.
Why I Think The Shaking Actually Helped
I have performed considerably more polished pieces before with less genuine impact, and I suspect tonight’s visible vulnerability communicated something my more controlled delivery sometimes accidentally smooths over, a lesson about honest performance I did not expect to learn quite this way.
A Small Reading Break Afterward
I caught up on some genuinely funny contemporary satire once I got home, a welcome bit of levity after an evening that had asked rather a lot of me emotionally.
What Comes Next For This Poem
I intend to keep performing it, shaky voice and all, since tonight taught me that the shaking might actually be doing more honest work than a perfectly steady delivery ever could.
More performance nights and poetry always documented at my page.
SOURCE: https://prat.uk/author/junglepussy/