When will I learn that some poetry simply has to be read aloud in order to be appreciated? I was originally going to say that this collection of poetry, while pretty good, is a little uneven. It felt misleading: the title references learning, the cover is a marble composition book, and the first twenty or so poems are about various aspects of teaching and education. Then, all of a sudden, the themes are all over the place: love, life, pets, etc. I don’t have a problem with any of those things as topics for a poem, but just when I was starting to settle in to this collection, I felt like things were turned upside down. The author, who had initially struck me as a strong, confident educator, had morphed into a musing, sometimes-rambling artist-type, and I didn’t care for the second half of the book as much as I did the first. Don’t get me wrong: the second half of this book isn’t bad. It’s far from bad, actually; I just loved the first half, so I was a little disappointed when I got further along.
Want to know why all of that doesn’t bother me so much anymore? I listened to Taylor Mali recite his own poetry, and I feel like I shouldn’t be complaining and instead ought to be singing his praises. Why? The sheer energy and passion that emanates through every word is astounding. He brought tears to my eyes (which then streamed down my face, if I’m being honest). Some people like to write poetry, but he truly is a poet, and a damn good one at that. Sure, I had my favorites from his collection. Who wouldn’t? But he gets about a bazillion bonus points in my book for making his work come to life the way that he does.
Don’t believe me? Look him up on YouTube and see for yourself.