The Bridgewater Trip
Originally Posted 5th February 2015 * Greg T. Miraglia
In early January 2015, I went down South to participate in the Bridgewater International Poetry Festival, however the Saturday before the journey I went to the QEW Slam in Syracuse, New York. It was fantastic. Pure Ink for Buffalo burned the crowd up, and received not only second place but the Fire Starter award as well. The two Slam teams from Syracuse were the Underground Poets, and the Confused Poets. Nitty Gritty took first place leaving Rock Bottom and Nickel City in the dust. All the poets were on fire. Their slams were mad good. Each team should be proud of itself.
I left that Tuesday morning for Tennessee to see family and from Tennessee I drove to Roanoke, Virginia on Thursday morning. A good friend of mine showed me the town. We first went to this Martin's Grill or maybe it was Martin's Pub. While there, I tried VA's version of Cajun (as apposed to the Cajun I tried in Maryland last November), and as we sat there eating my friend noticed a band was playing there that night. Our waitress was excellent and very polite as were her co-workers I came across. I kept doing this sign-language (not sign language) thing and she knew every time what I wanted without saying a word.
I thought it was perfect because I like to pack as much as I can into every road trip I take. We of course came back to Martin's that night. The band play was Sirsy from Albany, New York. It was kismet. Sirsy is the Jazziest rock you will ever hear. Their sound hooked me immediately. Before the end of the night I bought an album of theirs, picked up some surprisingly useful cheat sunglasses (free with the album), and their tour date list.
Sirsy took an intermission, so my friend and I thought this would be a good time to explore the city more. We eventually got to this independent beerfilled hipster bar that was aesthetically pleasing. I tried a hard cider there that was not bad, although I do not remember what it was called, sort of like the place. We made it back to Martin's where we finished out the bands performance. Oh Billy and Mercury were my favorite of their written songs, however the covers they did were both great and unique, rather than carbon copies. My friend brought me to this small hotdog joint, which had been there since 1930, and reminds open after 2am. A wise-Yoda like man with a mean southern accent worked there and gave me advice that came from my own words. He found the positive in my statement, which could have easily sounded negative, and then illustrated the root of my meaning. It was enlightening. The hotdogs were not bad either, for being from outside NYS.
The next morning I was not on the road until 9:30am and made it to the Bridgewater Poetry Festival around 11:30am. I was planning on meeting an old friend of a poet friend of mine, although his presentation was cancelled because he could not make it. I did however meet Elizabeth Atkin Stelling, the editor that published me in Unbridled. She turned out to be a fabulous poet herself with a Texas twist on her poetry. That night at an art gallery of one of the poets (I wish I could remember her name) I fell into a group of kind talented poets.
This group was composed of two poets from NYC, Aimee Hermann and Daniel Dissinger, Neil Hall (the Surgeon Poet), and Aimee Suzara. That group might be one light. I feeling like I am missing someone. Aimee Hermann and Dan are part of Poetry Teachers NYC. Neil Hall is the warmest kindest man you will ever meet, however his amazing presentation could leave you feeling intimidated. Aimee Suzara is always working and always going. That night we went to her workshop, which got us in touch with the physicality of poetry.
Saturday morning I went to Lesley Wheeler's workshop. She taught us about different rhymes and spoke about use of it. I had not thought of it, but rhyme is almost exclusively used in poetry rather than any other medium. Later on that day I had met Nicelle Davis whom I had seen previously on youtube. I would have liked to see her performance, however my presentation was at the same time as hers. I was set in the Eagle's Nest, which is like a basement café area with an outside patio.
Several times that day I snuck away to practice my presentation and because we were set up in twos, the poet I was partnered with wanted to go ahead of me. I did not mind at all, however I had not thought I would be one of the last presentations of the day. My set of poems was short. I feared too much that I would go over the time limit. That night instead of a workshop they had an open mic for everybody to participate in. There I was able to see Nicelle's work live. Some students even signed up, which was absolutely fantastic.
The next morning I had woken up late, checked out of my hotel, and did not make it in time for Lady Caress's Workshop. I was very disappointed in myself. The last day held a neutral bitterness. The conversations in the cafeteria, the presentations, and mingling. This was the conclusion of the festival. I tried to saver the feeling. The finally was a Best Of or like greatest hits of the festival, which was open to the community. The top twelve which ended turning into the top thirteen read their best piece. I have missed a lot of names. I tried to spread the love through my twitter and facebook if you want to check out some incredible talents.
Regrettably, I had to leave before the reception. The Dean of the college suppose to say a few words. I hope they were poetic words. I made a stop in Pennsylvania be for going home. I Virginia I had a speeding ticket between Roanoke and Bridgewater, and the police officer was very kind, although if you are a tractor-trailer please don't go 75mph in the right lane on a 70mph highway. The left lanes the passing lane. You have the right to go too fast in that lane. I got a ticket because you could not drive civilly. That's my gripe for this trip.
