Wild Women Won't Lose Their Minds

Wild women won’t lose their minds because
we told them to get lost!
It’s a conscious decision.
We know our minds for the tricky devils they are
and blow them off when they start whispering ill winds like:
“You can’t write (or draw or paint or pot or dance).”
“You’re no artist.”
“Get a job.”
“Put a period here, a comma there, and don’t forget to Capitalize.”
“This piece is lousy.”
“You can’t do anything right.”
“It’s not good enough.”
“You’re never gonna be Dorothy Allison, Margaret Atwood,
Georgia O’Keefe, Aretha Franklin, Meryl Streep.”

Wild women won’t lose their minds because
we tell our minds to shut up and go away.
We’re busy dancing to our own drums,
going to workshops,
listening to tree leaves talk,
watching melodies unfurl,
sniffing colors (sunset orange, lime green, cherry red),
shaping clay,
smearing paint on smooth surfaces,
touching the textures of everything.
We are behind closed doors making
love to our imaginations.

We don’t have time to lose our minds.
People may say,
because we slept all day
or read all night;
were caught writing love poems on the back of the boss’s last memo
or sketching faces on the teacher’s handout;
or we left work early because the sky was blue
or hold part-time jobs and live on less,
dress in Goodwill clothes and hand-me-downs
or take a day off because the Muse
came humming through an open window;
the rain made us want to write, paint, putter–
because we refuse invitations to parties,
don’t go on dates
and obviously enjoy our own crazy company...
Yes, people will say that we have already lost our minds.

Wild women won’t worry.
We know our minds are perfectly safe somewhere
among the socks in the bottom drawer
or on a back shelf in the kitchen where we hide the candy
only reaching back there occasionally when we really need it,
grabbing the wrong thing and putting the chocolate
where our minds should be
which makes us incredibly sweet, if a little spacey.
Some of us leave our minds in the pockets of suit coats
or skirts only to re-discover them much later
crumpled in a wad of kleenex and gum wrappers
or jangling in a pile of change and keys on the dresser in the morning.
I like to leave mine sealed tight in tupperware
so it stays fresh and won’t mingle
with the other fruits and vegetables.
In other words, it can be found in case of emergencies.
It may take a minute to locate...
but wild women won’t lose their minds
because what’s not lost can always be found
and we know minds are much too self-important
to stay where you put them
even if you say,
“Get lost you wretched thing!
You look like a brain,
all gray matter and logistics,
chock full of boring rules and barb-wire fences.”

Wild women won’t lose their minds because
we’ve learned to say, “Go Away! I’m busy
listening to the hot, hard beating
of my blood-red heart
pounding out secrets only wild women
can hear.”

Mendy Knott

Getting Ready to Read

Here are some tips for reading your work, particularly poetry, aloud. To me, the process of writing is not complete until the work is shared. If you aren't currently publishing, reading to an appreciative audience can be very satisfying and encouraging. It's also a good way to get some feedback on your work. So don't let your fears dictate what you do, or don't do! Be prepared. Stand and deliver.


1. I call it the practice of reading poetry because, like anything else you intend to do effectively, you must practice. Always practice what you plan to read, both silently and aloud. Read your piece aloud in front of a mirror until you become comfortable with seeing yourself as a reader/performer. Find the hidden rhythms, the pulse of the piece and let your voice bring it to life. This is not a sing-song rhythm usually, but a sound and tempo as subtle as your heartbeat. Familiarize yourself with the words of the poem and take time to ponder what the poem means to you. Practice may not make perfect, but it will make a difference!



2. I find it helps to warm up the voice by telling a little about yourself or why the poem or selection you chose to read is important to you. Get used to the sound of your voice through a mic (or in front of an audience) before you begin. Say each word clearly and be careful not to read too fast. How fast you read a piece depends on the poem's rhythm and the difficulty of both the imagery and diction.



3. Don't forget to breathe. Breath is the life force—without it we can't live more than a couple of minutes and, believe me, spoken word won't last more than a couple of seconds if you don't breathe. Wear comfortable clothing with plenty of breathing room. Stand up straight. Feel your feet and legs connecting you to the ground. Pause briefly before you begin and take a deep breath. If you stumble or lose your place, breathe and continue. Remember, this is only a few minutes of your entire life. Put fear in a proper perspective.



4. Pull your power from the abdomen, just above the navel. Let the voice gain power as it travels upward through your chest and heart and project the words outward into the world, not just at the audience. Recall the experience of reading the piece for the first time, the effect it had on you, and recapture those feelings for your audience. Men, be careful of the bass register and of reading so low and "masculine" that you can't be heard. Women, be careful of the higher register so that the voice doesn't grate. It's perfectly acceptable to alter the voice for reading, while maintaining the integrity of your own individuality.



5. Allow the audience to both see and hear your power. Your face is a vital part of reading well. Look up and let your eyes speak as well as your voice. Be careful not to hang your head or let your hair fall in your face. Don't hide. The best readings are done by people who are completely open and willing to risk being vulnerable.



6. Believe in the work and understand that it's not your job to convince the audience to believe what's written, but it is important that they know you believe it. What you are giving your listeners is a piece of your own personal truth and because of that, it is valuable and worth hearing. Consider that what you read aloud may prod someone's sense of humor, save their sanity, redeem their sense of the sacredness of life, encourage or enliven them. It has happened to me—on both the giving and receiving ends.



7. Indulge your superstition a little. Perform a small ritual with yourself. Wear an article of your favorite clothing or jewelry. Repeat a prayer or mantra or make one up. But above all, breathe.



8. Speak with intention. Read through your nerves, Don't let the words become a bunch of black marks on the page. Imagine how the poet felt when s/he penned these words (whether the poet is you or not). If you find yourself mumbling or rushing the work, don't be afraid to begin again. Every word counts in poetry. Stand and deliver—don't just repeat. There's a little actor (dare I say ham) in each of us. Let a little of that Romeo or Juliet out to play. Shine!



9. Be proud of a good read. What you accomplish is an act of courage. Believe me when I say our voices have the power to change lives, particularly our own.