Hotel Lenado Poetry Night, October 2008 - Recitation by Ryan Johnson
Two years, 730 days, and how many poems? There may have been a few weeks there, on eggshells, but unlike our dear friends on wall street, we orchestrated not a bailout, but an upgrade. Let me repeat, upgrade. Transition is the nature of poetry, once your poetry has become stagnant, call it dead, but once it is bouncing and moving and tricking you with each word, it will live with you, perhaps more than you want. That is also true of Hotel Lenado, quirky, cramped, cozy, friendly, resonating, yes, resonating. Once a month, at the Hotel Lenado, poetry is committed, not just read, not just shared but committed. We have all types here, visitors, commuters, regulars, mountain men, 9 to 5ers, first timers and every once a while an old pro. Our crowds differ from month to month, as perhaps they should, but the main message is we have an audience, and our poets are, heard.
For the most part our poets are realistic in their intentions. Almost no one is looking for fame or fortune, very few dream of being the next great American poet. Some of the poetry is amateurish, some heartfelt, some dull, some really fucking good, so good it pisses me off and some just plain hot, smoking hot. We are a group of people that in one way or another have been turned on to poetry. Turned on to hearing poetry, yours, others, poetry not only being read and heard but lived. There is presence in this poetry.
Our format has changed, morphed but is essentially an open mic and feature format, similar to great poetry readings around the country. It is my hope that more and more our open mic poets will go on to be features. After testing their chops, realizing what works and what doesn’t and spending countless hours and emotions on their poetry they will find their way to that immortal 15 minute spot and make sure everyone in the room leaves changed after it.
For me, Hotel Lenado Poetry night is a way to live. It is a way to breathe and scream and laugh, shout and whisper. It’s a place where I’ve made friends and colleagues with people from all walks of life with a hundred different stories. A poet and dear deceased friend David Lerner once wrote “poetry is the rock of tomorrow not that pop music is in spiritual receivership. I wish I could read my poetry in front of thousands of people like a rock star because I know that if I did, I could eventually make them weep, hurt, be silent and at some point actually listen. But even if all that came true, if all my idealistic dreaming saw some light, I would still ramble down aspen street, notebook in hand, order my whisky and coke and listen to the best goddamn group of friends, people and poets a young man could ever ask for.
