Kuwait Poets Society is doing God’s work with these open mics. 

This is exactly what Kuwait needs more of — something to foster our creative spirit, something to let us grow. KPS is — if I could be so fancypants — an incubator. KPS is an incubator of young, budding, blossoming talent.

They’re gardening Kuwait. They know it’s about giving a tulip enough sun and water so it’s not this green stem without a head. And these tulips, in time, birth other plants — the poems; and they’re quite nice, too. And we, the audience, are the farmboys and milk-ladies and nonbinary agrarians after a long day of folding deer or whatever farms are, being given a lovely, much-needed tulip.

While my metaphor might betray a fundamental misunderstanding of the asexual reproductive cycle of plants, what I’m trying to say is that they’re good for talent. They even let a few signees sing. Some of these people I wouldn’t let into my house, but once they started strumming we were, to use the poetic word, all beholden. Not once was anyone aghast. A bunch were gobsmacked. Crestfallen, maybe one or two.

I meant it when I said the poems were nice. I can think of four times I wanted the poet to make a beeline towards me, wipe the tears from my eyes and ask for my wallet, into which they’d stuff the poem, giving me something to open whenever I’m almost blue.

I think it’s only appropriate to end on a poem:


As a kitten is given to purr,

The Kuwait Poets Society,

O! On a windy March’s first night, were 

Overtaken by Calliope*.


*Calliope’s the ancient Greek muse of poetry. I’m lucky Calliope’s Calliope and Kuwait Poets Society is Kuwait Poets Society; I couldn’t find a single Greek muse that rhymes with the Kuwait Poets Group, or the Kuwait Poets Consortium.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *