1. Memorize the words.
You wouldn't want to see actors reading from scripts on Broadway. The presenter needs to see--or seem to see, in the case of cameras--the audience and their reactions.
2. Forget that you memorized the words.
The language has to be natural and believable, as if the speaker were formulating each thought before expressing it.
3. Practice until it seems unpracticed.
Cliché Alert: "Make the words your own."
Practice until it seems like normal speech (if appropriately impassioned in places). Use a mirror or, better yet, a camera [phone] to record yourself.
Use your down time. Carry a copy of a poem with you to the bathroom, into waiting rooms, onto buses, while walking the dog, etc. Don't worry what your neighbors will say. They already think you're crazy.
4. Go to open mic events. Participate once you're comfortable doing so.
If you are too shy, find a friend who has some acting chops. Form a partnership. Elton John to your Bernie Taupin.
As an exercise, consider starting with one of the two finest poems of this century, "Studying Savonarola", written by the greatest poet of our time, the late Margaret A. Griffiths. This is a piece that, in the hands of an inspired performer, works much better on the stage than the page. (Its counterpart, "Beans", may be too difficult for anyone but a seasoned actress.) Given the lack of competition, if you can nail this you could make history.
A final tip: One of the very few editors who appreciates the performance aspect of poetry is John Amen of Pedestal Magazine.
This is the closest we can come to an example of performance, which is evident even if we don't speak Spanish:
THE GORING AND THE DEATH
At five in the afternoon.
It was just five in the afternoon.
A boy brought the white sheet
at five in the afternoon.
A basket of lime made ready
at five in the afternoon.
The rest was death and only death
at five in the afternoon.
The wind blew the cotton wool away
at five in the afternoon.
And oxide scattered nickel and glass
at five in the afternoon.
Now the dove and the leopard fight
at five in the afternoon.
And a thigh with a desolate horn
at five in the afternoon.
The bass-pipe sound began
at five in the afternoon.
The bells of arsenic, the smoke
at five in the afternoon.
Silent crowds on corners
at five in the afternoon.
And only the bull with risen heart!
at five in the afternoon.
When the snow-sweat appeared
at five in the afternoon.
when the arena was splashed with iodine
at five in the afternoon.
death laid its eggs in the wound
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
At just five in the afternoon.
A coffin on wheels for his bed
at five in the afternoon.
Bones and flutes sound in his ear
at five in the afternoon.
Now the bull bellows on his brow
at five in the afternoon.
The room glows with agony
at five in the afternoon.
Now out of distance gangrene comes
at five in the afternoon.
Trumpets of lilies for the green groin
at five in the afternoon.
Wounds burning like suns
at five in the afternoon,
and the people smashing windows
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
Ay, what a fearful five in the afternoon!
It was five on every clock!
It was five of a dark afternoon!
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