Tuesdays are not my best days, but I am beginning to reason that if interesting things are incorporated into the day things would pick-up, interesting enough like poetry readings over a glass of wine.
Since my last dispatch from the National Cultural Centre (ages ago) I feel the need to do another so here goes. Day: January 4; location: Upscale restaurant; mood: subjective, but just right and occasion: monthly poetry night readings.
Maybe it was my absence away from monthly readings, but I had this feeling poetry readings were drying up and that new voices were rarely emerging.
The voices of poets like Kojo McPherson, Rochelle Christie, Yaphet Jackman, Daren Henry, Isha Shaw, Stanley Jones and Lady Hilda among others still ring in my head. You need only hear them and you’ll understand why people continue to support the readings.
There was something about Rochelle that fascinated me and as someone who used to write (I’ve a block) I deeply respect her voice and the message.
Damn! There are a lot of people in this place and I’m late. Why is that guy at the bar staring at me like that? I need to sit down. No visible seat in sight and you know what, this skirt is too tight! Finally, I see a friend.
Ok I’m in good company in an area of the room that offers me a disguise. I’m not popular or even remotely close to local celebrity status, but I sometimes like going out and blending in without people coming up to me and asking, “So what’s in the news tomorrow?”
It’s the open mic segment and I am bored, I think. I notice a few people getting up and reading stuff but nothing is saying, “Sit up and take notice”. Honestly, the few lines I scrapped a few days ago would hold up during this segment. What did I write again? Oh yes…
“Tonight I write the saddest lines for I no longer have you
I can write lines such as, ‘my tear-stained face burns with pain’
Or, that the cries of my heart are piercing
I can say that life is unfair and love cruel like my father’s desertion
Tonight I write the saddest lines, for time flew by and I have lost you”
I know…it didn’t really make sense to me either, but I am certain it would have held its own here tonight. Finally, there is someone on stage holding my interest. He is reading from a book which is accepted, but a performance is never the same when you have to hold up a paper.
I am hearing what sounds like someone destroying Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman”, and I will not look up; of all the poets to tear apart why her? This reminds of that night where I watched in horror as a guy took Kipling‘s “If” and shredded it to bits. I am trying to control my temper here!
Ok things are getting interesting, there is a guy on stage reading a piece which he didn’t write, but I still feel him. The poem is called, “I’m Not A Love Poet”. If a man ever conveys similar feelings to me either in song or spoken word, and it comes from his heart I swear we’re getting hitched in another few months. I particularly remember these words, “Every time I kiss you I taste the next 60 years of my life”.
The featured poet of the night, Kamadyah Yisrael is going to take the stage in a few minutes so I’ll get to know the new guy at my table until. He is interesting! I wonder why every time a woman talks to a man and they look a bit cozy in a public space people start staring at them coldly?
Kamadyah is up. I’ve heard about her and finally I get to hear her. Wait is this sister local? She has a distinct American accent, but I mean damn her talent is fierce! She is up there feeding us an ode to her mother and it is poetic gold! I hear her celebrating her mother’s strengths and sharing her love for the woman who bore her, and I think of my own mom.
She has fused music with her performance and is moving on to a second piece. This woman’s voice needs to be recognised and respected and she is affecting me in a strange way. I want to write again, I have to write again.
Kamadyah’s passion and love for poetry is stitched on her face and it burns inside her. She is talking about democracy, equality, beauty, love, pain, hurt and joy and I want to shout, “I hear you! I feel you! I respect what you’re saying.”
What I love about this woman is that she is so dynamic and fearless. She mentions halfway through the performance that the “system is asking you to change things,” but defiantly narrates why she has not bended. She even throws in this great bit about why she changed her name from Young to Israel.
She is a Lauryn Hill fan; I love this woman! She is performing a piece which is tied to a Lauryn Hill song. I like how she is moving with the music and delivering her lines in rhythmic fashion. This is the kind of true, soulful performance that people need to hear and see with their own eyes.
Kamadyah’s pieces are so alive! Someone at my table is saying that she has a CD out which I need to get a copy of. I think she is wrapping up now and leaving up with a piece for the people in the room who are in love. Heck, I’m been in love with myself since I was in primary school so I’m not discounted.
Kamadyah Yisrael, I am in awe. And I am heartened to see another woman on a stage since Rochelle Christie delivering focused poetry. And this woman is going to start writing again! (ianaseales@yahoo.com)
