Tuesdays Say Goodbye Sometimes.
John F. Buckley where are you when you are needed? That’s right, I forgot, getting an MFA in the middle of Michigan. Awing a whole other state with your talent. Chronolizing (like that word?) open mics and features as they now appear in your life.
But here in Long Beach, sadness has reigned over the poetry scene, as the Second Tuesday Poetry Readings came to a resounding close on the 13th, of this August.
I am no historian so I can do very little to assist in making this poetry reading seem amazing or as important as it was. The best I have is to tell you that for the past year and a half I loved the occasions that I got to attend, and even the ones that I got to read my poetry. Thanks to this reading I made friends in the poetry world that I would hate to lose, while having pieces of work picked up for publication. It was also the place I would take my students for their first poetry readings. And where several of them read for the very first time. I have no idea where I will take this year’s batch of writers . . . .
Mostly I got to call G. Murray Thomas a friend. He is like a warm smile that makes you forget the worse day and look forward to the next day. He welcomed everyone to his reading: novice, or veteran, it did not matter to him you were already his friend. It is often his love for the people as much as the craft that shined through.
Open mics are hard for me. I’m not good with crowds, I’m in automatic critique mode at all times (I blame the creative writing teacher in me), and I still shake something awful when reading. It’s weird. I have been giving hints on how to combat that, but to no avail.
But at This reading, hosted by G. Murray, I always felt safe. I don’t know if that has to do with the setting, the podium to hide behind, or the eyes of Parker, Fitzgerald, Tagore, and Neruda gazing from behind. That’s some pretty hefty backing.
At any rate here are a few of the people that read and celebrated the 2nd Tuesday’s run.