It’s 9:10 p.m. Monday and somebody ripped off the microphone cord from the Buzz Coffeehouse. No microphone cord, no microphone. No microphone, no Open Poetry Mic, which runs 9 to 11:30 p.m. every Monday.
But open poetry mic founder and master of ceremonies Nathan Langston isn’t worried.
We can just read poems outside, he tells the band of poets and their aficionados.
Out they go, to camp on the cement outside the Buzz, shiver in April’s cold night, smoke cigarettes (Langston’s lure to get them outside) and read poetry. The poets begin to read, their hands shaking from the cold and their poems flapping in the wind. Undeterred by the skateboarders, the gawking students and the bikers whizzing through, they continue the reading like this for 30 minutes before the microphone cord is located.
“Everybody give it up for the mic cord,” Langston cries as he lifted his fist in the air. The crowd roars with approval.
The impromptu reading is an emblem of how dedicated this group of poets and their audience are, as they shiver outside, smoking cigarettes, cheering their fellow bards. As National Poetry Month winds down with events throughout the nation’s libraries, reading rooms and quaint bookstores, these do-it-yourself poets celebrate the significance of poetry every Monday night.
“If you read poetry, this crowd will support it,” sophomore Chris Birke said. “You can read anything. They won’t necessarily like it, but they will support it.”
Birke started attending poetry night last year. Like many other poets at the Buzz, he said traditional written poetry lacks a certain spirit or connection with the reader — but poetry written to be performed gives poetry a specific and intimate connection with the crowd.
“Poetry written for classes is designed for people to sit and contemplate,” he said. “Read poetry is designed for the audience to be active and feel the message.”
Monday night’s poetry had more in common with spoken-word and hip-hop than anything lifted from the syllabus of a standard English class. Many of the poets have responded to the live audience and changed the nature of their poetry. Performed poetry is usually longer than traditional poetry, Birke said. It also carries more alliteration, sound effects and musical rhythms.

Langston said a huge chasm exists between the standard academic poetry taught today and poetry that is mostly written to be performed.
“Literary readings are well attended — and there is some really great poetry there — but people don’t even know if they are supposed to clap,” he said. “There is no connection with the audience.”
Taking the argument one step further, Langston said academic poetry alienates poetry’s potential popularity with people outside the walls of academia.
“The way (academic) poetry is constructed, it has no ability to capture the populist ear,” he said. “It has gotten away from where its real power is — the people.”
Langston started the poetry nights shortly after he came to the University three years ago. He scoured Eugene’s art scene and found a lot of bookstores and coffeehouses offered poetry as a secondary activity, not as a headliner. Music always came first for many venues, he said.
“Poetry is different than music. You can groove to music and still talk with your friends,” he said. “You can’t zone out to poetry, you must stay awake to what is happening.”
Stressing a love of poetry above all else, Langston wanted a place where many different people can come together and enjoy poetry. During the two and a half years, the eclectic crowd become just as important as the poets and performers.
“We have hip-hop b-boys, smart kids, drunken greasers, tribal people and frat kids,” he said. “Language is a connecting factor that exists to join these weird people in the oldest way.”
On any given Monday night, the Buzz will fill up with nearly 30 poets and 75 audience members. The performances run the whole gamut from stand-up comedy to songs, blatant politicking to announcements of other poetry events. Sitting in a corner behind a microphone, under the lights, they read from notebooks, scraps of paper and school tablets. The Buzz can get so quiet, only the cappuccino machine is heard. On any given night, many of the poets try to read whatever they have been writing lately. However, there are also older poems, and even a few standards that come back week after week.
“Some of the best poems are the favorites that always come back,” said Sam Rutledge, a LCC student. He pointed out a poem of Langston’s called “Psychedelic Basketball,” and “Mary Magadalene” by Anny Gateley, a University senior.
“I’ve heard these poems 1,000 times, and I want to hear them 1,000 more times,” he said.
Gateley loves both sides of the equation, being an audience member and performer.
“When you hear somebody reading their poetry, it comes alive,” she said.
However, many poets admit the power of performance is a driving factor to return week after week. Standing under the lights with all eyes focused on you is a very electric feeling — similar to acting on a stage.
Theater major Christina Jamerson said she has been onstage with drama and her own poetry. While she loves drama, she is convinced that the personal and intimate nature of poetry is a much more intense performance.
“There’s a big difference in saying to the audience, ‘Here’s my heart and soul on a silver platter, and you can take it.’”