"I'm pulling the dirt together"

Below is a moment I witnessed during my first two hours with Verbal Blend. It was so brief but telling.

Cedric Bolton brings two poems by Joy Harjo in honor of Native American Heritage Month to the last two Verbal Blend workshops of the semester. On the first day, only four poets showed up, two volunteered to read "The Creation Story," and "Equinox," aloud. Afterwards, they take turns sharing interpretations of the poems and decide that Harjo pulls inspiration from nature and the natural to form images of important themes and feelings in her life: creation, love, ancestry, war, guilt, fear. Bolton encourages the poets to use, if they need to, Harjo's words for inspiration during the routine 15 minutes of free write.

Katherine, one of Verbal Blend's newest members--the senior joined this fall, says little during the first hour but willingly stands to share her poem. For 45 seconds, she reads from her notebook, often stumbling over the words; she twice repeats two lines. The most noticeable part of her performance are her feet, which fidget from side to side, and her body, which on occasion seeks the nearest table for support. Despite her slight discomfort, the group loves the poem. Desperation has made me crave a murder of an innocent world that was self built inside my cage's walls. "I love that last line," Michelle says. "Can you read the whole thing one more time for me?" Ruthnie adds. Ruthnie, nicknamed Rae and affectionately called 'Rae Sunshine' by the group, often presents challenges to the poets. Tonight, "I challenge you to keep both feet flat on the floor. If you force both feet to stay flat on the floor then your body will use that energy." Katherine begins to laugh; her feet jitter in her acting class, too.

For the second attempt, the words flow fluidly--save for two times, when Katherine pauses as her body pulls the strength up from her anchored feet and through her diaphragm to force the words brick and crave out of her mouth, clear and unbroken. Not once does she stutter on a word, repeat a line, or move her feet. "Damn!," Bolton says after the last line. Rae, just as, if not more, impressed the second time, breathes out an awed "Gosh!" Snap, snap, snap all around the room. "How do you feel?" Rae asks.

"I feel mad," Catherine responds. "And I feel good that it's in here," she says, lifting her notebook with her right hand. She brings her left to her chest. "Not here."