About a year ago, maybe more, some friends and I got together to form a group called Polymath. In truth, we just formed a group to put on shows, performances really, that we ourselves would want to see. We called ourselves Polymath because these three guys; a statistician, a computer technician, and...I don't even know what the other guy does, and we built this show on our own. We wrangled talent and arranged business proposals and understandings. We designed sets in a way that put the spotlight on the performers at all angles, and controlled crowds at the same time. We were on our way to national fame. Just three guys. No money. Doing shit on weekends.
And then we stopped.
The truth; not an excuse but the absolute truth is we were exhausted, and so were our contributing poets. Too much of a good thing isn't just bad for you, it can completely kill your spirit. We needed a break, so we took one. For a year. People were getting antsy of course, asking when we would have another show. "What happened to the shows? When are you having another show?" But no. We were tired. Or at least I was tired.
Because, to say that the poetry in Belmopan is an exhaustible resource is a straight up cop out. There's more out there. I'm sure of it. Its just not the quality we'd want. And that's our fault really. I've had it in my head for the longest while to sit with these poets and have a long chat about 'performance'. "You're not just reading your poems', I'd tell them. "You're performing. You're expressing how you felt at the time, how you feel each time you read it. Even if you don't memorize it, at least give it a bit of emotion!" I'd let them listen to some of the poets I enjoy listening to. I'd subject them to Saul Williams' rants and have Anis Mojgani make them laugh while they cried. We'd listen to beat poets synch their poems up to music that only they can hear and that, through their words, the rest of us can feel.
We want the next one to be a real show. There was a plan to arrange an outdoors show. Setting up a stage would only be a small step up from setting up the cafe and backdrop from scratch. We had everything dreamed out. What we lacked was the money. And, perhaps on my part, the propper gumption.
You see, I can't expect people to start writing, to get brave enough to perform again, if I can't do it myself. And that's the only thing stopping us, really.
