the idea: write a spoken-word poem for Don’t Make Art, Just Make Something

How do I begin? (click for recording)

Like many people, I’ve always had an uneasy relationship with poetry.  But recently, I’ve started to write poetry like I write songs, freely, and that’s changed everything.  I still don’t write poetry often, but when I’m not in the mood for my guitar, or I want to say something in a less lyrical way, I look to that other, unknown art form.

The other day I listened to Shane Koyzcan’s incredible TEDtalk on bullying.  I was trying to figure out where I had heard him speak before when I realized that I’d already watched the video for his poem, “To This Day.”  I was struck a second time by what he was saying and realized that I wanted to try doing that with my work, with my passion.

I’m always fighting to be more concise, attempting to build the ability to say what I mean in as direct and understandable a way as possible.  My book is going on one hundred pages now, and that’s after everything I keep deleting, but that’s pretty damn long.  So I decided to try to write a poem, because how much more clear can you get than that?

This segment of the poem, “How do I begin?”, is the introduction to a segment of the book called “What they didn’t teach us.”  I was struggling to find an introduction and in the end I thought, what better way to introduce a new section then with the poetry I wrote to capture it.

 

How do I begin?

 

Nobody tells you that.

They show up to our graduations,

say a proud congratulations,

and for a day it feels like we’ve done everything.

But then the next day comes,

and the next,

and suddenly it’s not exciting but terrifying

as we look out at our lives and realize,

the time has come,

and we’re not ready.

 

We stand here,

on the precipice of the past,

looking out at the vast future,

ready to jump from the springboard of our education

into the world.

Only to realize that we won’t spring that far.

We look down into the chasm that separates where we are,

and where we want to be.

There are no guides,

no bridge to get across,

and that’s when we see for the first time,

that our two decades spent crammed at desks have prepared us only to spend five decades crammed into cubicles.

The reality that our education and profession are so disconnected,

that the mess we’re in is expected,

it knocks us to our knees as we fight for footing on the precipice

of everything.

 

So how can we begin?