Arts/Cultural Response: Poetry Reading

The Palmer Museum of Art may not be the most populated with college students on a Saturday morning in chilly Penn State December, yet I was eager to attend the poetry reading held at the museum that morning. I have never been a fan of writing or analyzing poetry but there is a sense of peace that overwhelms me when I hear poetry. While I certainly do not have a talent for poetry writing, I can appreciate when a writer puts his or her emotion and passion behind a rhythm of words. I enjoy the fluidity of a poem and how words strung together in an irregular pattern can hold such meaning to a writer.

That Saturday morning, my friend Emma, accompanied me to the poetry reading led by my very own professor, Sheila Squillante and her husband Paul Bilger. As Sheila read through a collection of ten poems, Paul simultaneously presented a photograph that corresponded to each poem. The photographs were not at all what I expected, however they were incredible abstract pieces that both Paul and Sheila felt conveyed the same point of view. After the presentation, we (the audience) learned the photos were reconstructed after the poems were written. It amazed me that two individuals with such different talents could come together and create something so fluid and coherent.

This poetry reading brought me right back to my years of high school because each April, the English department would hold a day-long poetry festival featuring guest speakers like students and teachers of various subjects, even gym. The English teachers set up the festival in the library, with dimmed lights, a podium and half-circle seating which gave it a feel of a small coffee shop, very “hipster-y” event. This event was always a nice way to escape from the everyday stress of classes and it was fun to see friends reading poems at a podium. The poems read by my fellow classmates and teachers ranged from Shakespeare to Shel Silverstein to anonymous writers which satisfied a wide range of interests of the audience.

The reading was a perfect length of time-about 30 minutes-just enough time to enjoy the entire presentation while still keeping my attention. Although I probably would have enjoyed that extra 30 minutes for sleep that morning, I left the reading feeling intellectual and contemplative. I always love that about poetry; although I have no idea where to begin an analysis, I know that it somehow has meaning. Maybe one day I’ll have enough curiosity to figure this out for myself, but for now I’m content with listening to poetry for enjoyment without thinking too much into it.