“Put it in god’s hands. Boy? We are god’s hands.” – Buddy Wakefield
I have three jobs. I work as HR for a great company, I do tarot readings and am an author of tarot books, and I write concert, book, and play reviews for The Arts STL. I love my jobs so much, and to quote Buddy Wakefield, “This is the first year in my life where I would wish my life on other people.” I love all of my jobs and I’m grateful for each of them.
The most frustrating part of this particular job, however, turns out to be writing a review of a poet. How the hell do you convey the emotional ups and downs and resonance and sense of community? How do you take snatches of remembered lines out of the poems that they formed and make them carry the same weight? How do you, exactly, say that the words that you heard pulled you apart and put you back together again, in better shape than you arrived?
I don’t know. It’s gotta be tricky.
What I can tell you is that three poets graced the stage—Wakefield, Sidney Rehg, and Sarah Kovatovich, with MK Stallings serving as host. Two of them made me cry. All of them made me laugh. One of them helped continue the one-sided yet very fulfilling relationship I’ve had with them for almost a decade.
I don’t know if you’re going to get a chance to see Buddy Wakefield perform poetry again. He’s moving on to other interests—a film, writing a screenplay, writing more books. If you can (he’s still on tour) just go. If you can’t see him, you can watch some of his older stuff online.
I’m telling you though, it won’t be the same. I don’t know if a recording of a poem will have the same energy, but it will still be meaningful. It will still be important.
You should—really—check him out. | Melissa Cynova
Photos courtesy of Joe Johnson, Crossroad Images. Click to enlarge.