Poetry Readings at Malibu Public Library Courtyard

All were invited to a free poetry reading in the courtyard of the Malibu Public Library on Saturday.  Being outdoors and being free was good enough for me and my dog Bowie to attend. The librarian/host for the event opened by addressing, "Why poetry?."  She followed her rhetorical question with other why questions. These were cheesy in their assessment of value fond in - say, life. She then read from Walt Whitman's famously life-affirming poems. While her comments were overall, trite - they laid a foundation for appreciating the following poets and Shakespearian thespian. There was a set theme assigned the three poets invited. One got the memo whose poems "had never before addressed the meme of joy." Her poem was in keeping with the day's sugary theme. She ladled it on heavy with the cream. The male poet started off by taking the liberty of speaking on his favored topic of philosophy. Before he went on to his more macabre v. joy poems, he said, "I hope I wasn't being too esoteric."  He was, and it was arid. His poetry along the lines of romantic mysticism; a werewolf attacking his victim was anything but staid. It was cleverly chilling. I got a flavor for what the werewolf was going for. The last invited poet didn't do her homework. She said "I'm going to ad lib". She brought a book of Khalil Gibran's poetry and read random poems as she riffled through the book until the audience called out stop. This didn't win her any accolades from me but surprisingly, her great aunt had a friendship with the famous Lebanese-American poet and she happened to have a correspondence her aunt had written to him. (How she had the poem when it was written to Gibran I'd have liked to know.) However, her aunt "Joy" (how's that for irony) was an amazing writer whose epistolatory correspondence waved poetically of her bucolic surroundings and her yearnings. Aunt Joy's letter was the highlight for Bowie and me as Bowie sat up and paid attention. The last arranged speaker shared her passion for language as conveyed through Shakespeare's mastery of words. She performed "Hamlet's" famous soliloquy and emoted his turmoils exquisitely. The courtroom oration from "Merchant of Venice" was lacking having not failed to adequately set up Shylock's brutal treatment prior in the play. Afterwards, the floor was opened to anyone wishing to share their own poetry. Hats off to the young lady who bravely shared her heartfelt writing. And, regardless of any criticisms I had, Bowie and I very much enjoyed gathering with others outside to listen to the intrinsic beauty of prose and poetry.  This I knows.