New poets and old do it. They find a vocal rhythm and they stick to it whatever the cost. The voice becomes devoid of purpose other than to stay in the tonal rise and fall and rise and fall and rise (pause a bit here) and fall. It makes the “performed” poem as predictable as rainbows in Manchester but not as stimulating. At some imperceptible moment what actually happens is the rhythm of the vocal hypnotizes the poet more than the audience. S/He has the sense of doing something real.
Authenticity in the performed poem is in the voice – high low mumbled screamed inhibited or expressive – and the voice is shaped by the words. I remind myself to read the poem as if I had just written it. This allows me to feel the text. The space between feeling the text and speaking the text is vast. It needn’t be. It is the role of the poet on stage to close the gap to capture the feeling they had when they wrote the poem. A performed poem needn’t be outwardly expressive but it must be internally explosive. Believe me. However quiet the poet is on stage, however inhibited they may be, if they feel their poem the audience will too. Move and be moved.