A Case of Reader's Jitters

The light was beginning to dim as I made my way across campus, heading toward the Student Union efficiently, yet not hurriedly, for I had ensured ample time to arrive. Earlier in the day, I had hesitantly asked Dr. Kirchner if I could miss a portion of our weekly evening class to attend the Lumen Open Mic event, and to my relief, she assured that I could, recognizing the importance of English and writing to my college experience. With her express permission, I left the classroom in the middle of lecture and trekked down the stairs of Hirt, anticipation and nerves welling within me. I waged a war in my head, debating on whether to read a piece of my poetry or not. Logically, I knew what the answer should be: participate and read; however, public speaking withers me down, rendering me a wired ball of anxiety. Heart pounding, legs shaking, voice wavering: all the works. It's tedious, but I have steadily improved over the years. 

I made my way down to Luke's Landing, making note of the students in attendance. The audience was decent, but nothing exceptional, especially since we are looking to expand the team of editors. Most of them were either Lumen members themselves or my peers from Creative Writing, and not for the first time, I pondered why more English majors chose not to involve themselves in the publication or its events. My eyes landed on Marley, who was seated at the table nearest to the stage, which made my heart warm, as it is entirely in character for her to be front and center. (She, actually, is the one who converted me from a second row sitter to a first row one.) I sat beside her, and the event began. I watched as students rose from their seats, walked to the front, and performed their pieces. Many went twice, and as I continued to sit there, doubts welled up. Time was ticking away, and I witnessed Marley read her amazing pieces (not for the first time, and she would call me biased). Despite her gentle encouragements to read, I remained rooted to my seat, snapping my fingers after each poem's conclusion. 

This is the poem of mine she wanted me to read:

"Mitigating Secrecy’s Trepidation"

Spat out     spittle spraying with sharpness 
Coagulating with a callousness     akin to cud on a cow’s tongue 
Daunted by the danger     of dastardly vulnerability  

Like treasure stowed away     in a tantalizing trove  
A soft, sublime thing     meant solely 
For you     Fangs tucked away, far beneath 
The superficial surface     yet ready to surge forth 
With dangerous zeal     should one dare disclose  
All that is tangled     in the tirade of candor 

Pressing with persistence against the palate 
Writhing in restlessness     no longer in repose 
Its spine cracks     crumbling under the weight of confidentiality 
Spilling forth like blood     laying out a soiled stain 
Tainting all it touches     with unfettered temerity 

Curling around it     cautiously cradling with care 
Breathing softly     so as to sooth and settle 
Like gliding one’s hands     to quiet quivering quarters 
The fear receding     allowing respite to remain 
Lingering for the length     it is capable of luxuriating   
The titillating sense of trust     permeating the air 

In the aftermath, am I happy with myself for not mustering up the courage to read? No, of course not. I still had a good time basking in the environment and getting to hear everyone's pieces, but my fears are a reminder that I still have strides to make on improving my confidence. It is now my goal, when another Open Mic is hosted, to perform at least once. Seeing as this post is a not-so-subtle plug for the Lumen, I'll leave a link down below. I would embolden everyone to submit poetry and prose to the Lumen (if you were not planning to already), as it costs nothing to try. If accepted, your piece(s) will be in the Lumen book, and there is even a chance to win a prize! Also, if you would like to join the team of editors, I also advocate for that, as we're constantly looking to expand the group. 





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