Cake and dead people in poems on a rainy Saturday afternoon...

Dead people
Rain is drizzling and I am feeling lazy. It is a Saturday afternoon and I think I could lie in bed and have a nice nap.

But I think it would look bad if I don't go to the writers' meeting. That if everybody said they wanted to stay home in bed then what was the point of me encouraging the writers to meet up periodically to discuss their work.  This meeting was going to be the first 'working' meeting , which I am not good at.. previous meetings were to talk about how the writers gatherings could go,, talk which I am good at doing


I think I would stay an hour because I don't really have anything to say.. and I didn't bring anything for others to review.


I reach the venue, go in. A few people are already there despite the rain.

I admire the spirit. I  feel slightly guilty of the sleeping in the bed thing in the rain. I am always inspired by people's pursuit of their passions and dedication.  I don't really watch cricket but find it interesting to watch people who watch cricket.

 I wonder if my attendance at the meeting is really more about me trying to be vicariously interested in something.. anything, rather than the writing itself

Man hands me three poems.

"Have a look and tell me what you think..." and I think oh God no, I didn't really come to discuss any writing and the last time I dared to discuss any poem was in June 1986 at the CXC English B exam.

Since then I have read poems aloud, and shared poetry quotes on social media because I think is a nice thing to promote poetry and I could look culturally aware. Louise Bennet's 'colonisin in Reverse ' is the only poem I think I ever got right.

So I make some comments and so in the discussion. And another poet in the room says. 'you do realise the person is dead right?" and the man laughs and says.. "she knows because she is also a poet".

And I go over the poem again and looking for signs of the dead..

Cake
Another person comes in, a bit late, laptop in hand, bag, and a box "it was my birthday this week and here is cake"  I think wow, because I had been wanting cake and I was not going to buy the cake as part of my promise to not eat sugar. But buying cake is not the same as well, accidentally and unexpectedly coming across it at a writers meeting.

I think this is nice.. , she also had genip.   I wonder if keep my mouth full  with cake and genip if that would excuse me from having to offer any comments.. 

But no such luck, it is just a few of us and we should all say something so .. in between mouthfuls..

And the cake is lovely.. not that the poems and stories were not also lovely..

And so , from poems, to the children's stories, to the short story. I find myself with a pencil in hand offering to record some of the edits in a story and thinking.. oh shoots, I hope I am not making mistakes here


Can I read a poem?
 So as the discussions continue., we talk about the work which is up for review. As we finish off, one of the poets asks 'Can I read another poem?".
And I say.. am, of course, you mean, not for us to discuss or so right as I wasn't sure if I could be useful that way.. but I would listen without having to comment

There was something though in the asking.. I remembered reading about Trinidadian Author Anton Nimblett talking about this 'permission to speak'.. , and I think in this writing thing, about how many people probably feel muted, who hide their poems or things they want to say.. and that even if I might not have a thing for poetry, I have some responsibility to ensure that the poets and others do not need permission to speak..

So the poet got permission and read her poem aloud, the full version of an extract I had heard before.
 

Wait, that is the time now? 
And I look at the clock.. I have spent much longer than I intended.  The rain is drizzling as I go to catch the bus home.. later than I intended to go home. I am glad I did not have the nap. I had forgotten that I used to step out of my comfort zone, and go every now and then to things which I would not go to .. like the Chutney competition in Canje, and the Jehovah Witness Convention.

And to random other lectures and presentations on topics I did not know about.. because learning is like that.. stepping out of the boundaries, opening to random experiences and not staying home in bed when it rains on a Saturday afternoon.