NEO•GRIOT

Is poetry in Jackson, MS dead?

By Kanika Welch, Jackson Poetry Examiner

Posted:  07/04/2011 

Poetry in Jackson, MS is dying if not already dead. I say this not because the poets are gone. They are still here. It is the venues that have forsaken us writers. There is no consistency. Over the past few months I have observed a handful of Open Mic Poetry sets step on the scene with all fanfare only to fall flatter that a bottle of Sprite left open on the kitchen counter for days. It’s quite sad. One venue called Level 3, sent out Facebook invites to their new Poetic Justice open mic night back in April. I missed their opening night but I made a point to attend their next set. So the next week my man and I ventured to Level 3 only to be stopped by a woman with her hand out. She told us the cover was $15.
I was flabbergasted and  expressed that I felt that was a bit much for an open mic. She quickly explained that there would be no poetry. They were having a fashion show. I haven’t been back since and I have no idea if they ever had poetry there again.

No Consistency.

The lack of a venue with an established open mic in Jackson, MS hurts in several ways. Most importantly, artists have no common meeting place to gather to exchange smiles and interchange words. There is no place to express yourself on stage, to practice your delivery, or get feedback on a new piece. Sure you can post your poem on-line or email it to a friend, but there is nothing like being on the mic.

Last summer I was privileged to go on tour. While on the road, I met poets from all over that expressed interest in showcasing in Mississippi. These same poets still contact me from time to time inquiring about open mics in the Capitol City. Unfortunately, I am unable to direct them to a place to get their poem on. This becomes very expensive for poets on tour. Every state surrounding Mississippi has a pretty awesome Poetry scene. A poet on tour makes money by performing everywhere. If they have to drive through a state with nowhere to stop and perform they lose money. Gas is high. So what usually ends up happening is I have to coordinate a show myself. This is very expensive for me but I do it for the love of the art. I have to first find and rent a venue. Next I have a flyer created, pay my graphic designer, and then pay the poet for their feature. I usually lose money. If I’m lucky I break even.

So what can be done about this? Jackson needs poetry! I’m going crazy without it! The sporadic open mic poetry events are not enough. We need some consistency. I’m eager to hear your thoughts so please comment below.

Stay connected.

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C. Liegh McInnis

 

Truth,

 

When I read your article, “Is Poetry in Jackson, MS Dead?,” I planned to respond after I finished posting the summer issue of Black Magnolias.  It is the second part of a special issue, which has kept me swamped along with teaching and my own writing.  However, today, as I was working, I received two emails about your article.  One is from a peer of mine, Dr. Howard Rambsy, who is a graduate of Tougaloo and is now a professor and chair of the Black Studies Department at Southern Illinois University.  The other is from Dr. Jerry Ward, one of my most influential mentors.  They both read the article online.  While they applaud your desire to support the arts locally, they are both concerned that you seem to define poetry mostly as open-mic venues with no mention of publishing.  That was one of the thoughts that I had, but I also realize that the vast majority of young people who frequent open-mic venues are more concerned with CDs and touring than submitting to literary journals.  It is not an issue of better or worse, but more an issue of each writer or group of writers being clear about what they desire or wish to gain from their writing.  Yet, when you raise the question “Is poetry in Jackson dead?,” and limit poetry only to open-mic venues, you are, by the very nature of your question, limiting the possibility or opportunity of individual and community expression by making it appear that open mic is the only form of poetic expression worth lamenting or championing.  And while I know this is not your intent, as African people who need to cultivate as many avenues as possible to give voice to our beauty, power, and struggles, we must work to expand and maintain multiple tools and avenues of expression and commentary, especially those that complement and supplement each other in the manner as printed and spoken word.

 

As for the lack of venues or lack of consistency, there are a few aspects that one must consider.  One, most of the young poets in the Metro area do not seem to understand themselves as builders.  They want to work in front of the camera but don’t understand the necessary work that must be done behind the camera for the program to air.  Thus, most want to arrive somewhere and just present their work without understanding how much planning and work it takes to ensure that there is an audience to receive the presentation.  At our peak, when Mississippi Vibes was averaging one to one hundred and fifty people on a Saturday night for poetry, it was because there were several local poets who were making time investments during the week, whether it was disseminating flyers all over the city or participating in other events and using those events to promote Saturday night.  For about four years of my life, I would leave my house daily with twenty-five to fifty flyers and often return with none.  Now, truth be told, we, Mississippi Vibes, were using open-mic as a way to recruit people to publishing so, ironically, Saturday night was more of icing on the cake than being the cake itself, but that is what happens when you have a community of poets who see the event or scene as something bigger than themselves.  Each one becomes willing to invest in the venue because they know that without the venue there is nothing for them.

 

Two, we were very fortunate to have two venue owners, Chris Burkette of Highlites and Sandy of Living Room Coffee House, who believed culturally and financially in poetry’s ability to earn a profit and make a positive contribution.  That is rare.  So, if the poets are not able to find someone like this, then they must become the business leader, much in the way that PyInfamous is doing with Suite 106.  Because of my interest in publishing, I was not willing to pursue this course of action.  At the end of our four-year run at Highlites, Chris offered us the opportunity to manage Highlites—bar and all—on Saturday night.  My answer, was a simple one:  “I appreciate it, but I’m a writer not a restaurateur.”  Even with the great success of Seven, in its various manifestations, its fatal flaw was Ezra’s inability to consistently balance his artistry with his business sense.  I can tell you as a publisher, editor, and writer being an executive and an artist are some heavy and complicated hats to wear.

 

Three, poets must understand that they need people other than their friends and other poets to cultivate a successful arts movement.  The people or audience that is needed is the middle-class that supports most poetry movements because they have the disposable income to purchase books and CDs and frequent open-mic venues.  That is why our target age was twenty-five to fifty because we wanted a certain type of intellect that also had a certain type of cash flow.  We did not seek to alienate the college crowd.  In fact, we used Thursday night at Living Coffee House specifically to cater to the college crowd, and used Saturday night at Highlites to carter to our twenty-five and up crowd.  Of course, about ten to twenty percent of each crowd would migrate from one venue to the next, and that worked especially well as we were preparing the college crowd to be patrons of the arts.  Yes, young people must be educated on how to be patrons of the arts.  And we, the poets, realized that it was our duty to aid in this education or development.  I am also proud to say that several of the young people who developed their craft through Mississippi Vibes left the city or state and become essential elements in other venues.  Yet, for a good number of poets who frequented Seven between 2006 and 2010, I was amazed at the immaturity of so many of the young poets, especially with the notion that many of them could not conceive of creating art for several different types of audiences.  Even while in college, I realized that a poet is a community member and a community servant who could be asked at any time to provide one’s talents for any number of events.  So, as a poet of the community, I wanted to develop my exposure and skills so that I could read a poem anywhere.  Thus, one of the strengths of Mississippi Vibes was our variety of poets and diversity of patrons.  One of David Brian Williams’ favorite sayings was “Have poems, will travel,” which meant, as arrogant as it may sound, that we felt that we could go anywhere and do well.  David was the reason I began reading poetry in church at Anderson’s Sunday night Jazzoetry, and David also booked me to read with him at a monthly event for a thirty-five and older women’s group that hired us to read erotic poetry while they drank wine and ate.  It may not reflect well on my skills or social consciousness, but moving from Jazzoetry to poetry night for horny middle-aged women speaks to our ability to tackle any subject.  I can’t imagine being so limited in my knowledge base or exposure level or desiring to be comfortable in my limited knowledge base and exposure level that I will limit my ability to engage various audiences.  Consequently, having so many poets who allowed themselves to be limited in their ability to read at various events eventually aided in the ending of Seven and the connecting poetry movements because the poets were unable to bring new or fresh blood to the audience.  Add to this the inability to understand that paying customers have jobs, which means that the Sunday night event cannot begin at 10:00 p.m., and we have two more aspects that led to the demise of the local poetry scene.  Because the majority of the poets were not experiencing new or different events and mostly relying on their friends and other poets to be the paying customers, they seemed unaware that most working people cannot frequent events that begin after 9:00 p.m.  This caused the open mic regulars to became almost cliquish, like some secret club that almost seemed to revel in their ability to alienate people from other walks of life or people from older generations. I will add that this disconnect between the current generation of young poets and the forty and up clientele is not just the fault of the poets but also of older folk to make younger poets feel comfortable in their presence by encouraging and inviting them to events that they would not normally frequent, which is what Doc Reddix attempted to do on several occasions.  So, yes, my generation, the so-call first post-Civil Rights Generation, those of us born between 1965 and 1970, dropped the ball on keeping the generations united with history and culture.  Still, if the current generation of poets ever hopes to have a sustained movement, it must find ways to bridge the gap to paying patrons.

 

Four, all artists or anyone in business must know one’s audience or clientele.  Let me be frank.  Because so many spoken word poets would rather be Jay-Z than Amiri Baraka, they are trying to appeal to the fans of Jay-Z.  I mean no disrespect to Jay-Z (who is very smart and talented) or his fans, but people process lyrics for/with music differently than they process words constructed to exist on their own without music or other props or supplements.  Trying to appeal to the late night hip hop club goers will only work if you are giving them the same art that is found at a late night hip hop club.  But, this problem of not understanding the audience that one must cultivate exists because currently there are a great number of poets (spoken word artists) who listen to more music than they read books so many are merely imitating songs rather than crafting poems.  And, again, this is only a problem because the patrons they are trying to secure do not want poems, per se, they want songs.  Unfortunately, the audience (the fans of Jay-Z) that seemingly most spoken word artists desire to cultivate will only treat the open-mic venue as a novelty while the spoken word artists continue to alienate the readers and middle-class patrons they need for a sustained movement.

 

Five, there is no continuity with the open mic venues because there seems to be no continuity with history.  Mississippi Vibes sought to connect with older poets and invite them to our readings.  Now, of course, David Williams, Jolivette Anderson, Ken Stiggers, and I all wanted to be schooled writers so we read locally and nationally published poets.  We knew who they were.  It also helped that David had been part of a major poetry movement during the seventies.  As we connected to our past, it allowed us to develop our craft while expanding our audience.  Some of those older poets would expose us to a whole new audience, which also meant readers to purchase books.  Yet, cultivating this relationship with the older poets was not easy.  The generation gap has existed for a long time.  A lot of the older poets did not think that what they did would be understood or appreciated, and they felt that some of us, myself included, were too sexual and did not properly engage socio-political issues.  They also thought that most of us were poorly crafted, and we were.  But, we persisted because we knew what we wanted, which was to be taught.  We didn’t just invite them to read; we invited them to lecture us at other events, slowly developing a relationship.  But, again, we were interested in publishing.  If you guys are more interested in CDs and touring poets, then do not just invite who is hot now.  Find ways to invite spoken word artists, such as Saul Williams and others, who will be known by an older audience that will pay to see them.  But, to be completely honest, I hungered for the knowledge of Jackson’s poetic history, wanted to know what the past had been, because I wanted to know how I would be measured or judged by the past, by history.  For me, it was bigger than a full room and applause.  I didn’t want to be famous; I wanted to be great—meaning well skilled, and how would I know whether or not I was well-skilled if I never sought to be in the company of the people who had defined greatness.  Thus, I needed to connect with history.  I needed to learn about The Shop and all the brilliant people who had been a part of that movement.  I learned about them from reading and listening, and then I put myself in their company and in the company of others from other areas because I wanted to become the most skilled writer my talent would allow me to become.

 

Six, three things led me to accept finally that my days of regularly frequenting open-mic events were over.  One, I finally realized that all if not the vast majority of young people attending the open mic events wanted to be spoken word artists with CDs and touring engagements and not writers who submitted to journals.  Now, this is fine for them, but it created tension when some of them would ask me for advice or ask for feedback to a poem, and it became clear that the advice I was giving did not fit the aesthetic or goals they were attempting to cultivate.  Accordingly, as I realized that some of the young people would become almost adversarial, not many but a few, I realized that it did not make sense for me to neglect my duties of reading submissions to Black Magnolias or my own writing to read the work of writers who were not interested in the particular aesthetic or path that I was walking, which lead to my second realization.  Two, I have so much work as a writer, teacher, editor, and publisher that I do not have the time to regularly frequent open mic venues because Saturdays and Sundays can be spent writing and editing.  Three, as most open-mic venues exist now, as a place separate and isolated from the cultivation of workshops for publication or even community activism, I find very little inspiration, very little that pushes me or motivates me to want to write.  As you state in the article, so many want to “get their poem on,” but that seems to speak to a singular notion of self-expression for self-gratification with very little regard or concern for the history of the craft or the exchange of ideas about the poem as craft.  And though I could be narrow in my interpretation of how you are using the phrase, what is clear to me is that the vast majority of folks who attend or present at open-mic venues do so more as an attempt at their fifteen minutes of fame, and the medium of the poem is just that—a disposable thing that is used to get noticed, which, again, left very little for me in the way of inspiration or motivation.  Of course this is not exclusive to open mic or spoken word.  Once something becomes popular or the new trend, it brings the bandwagon jumpers.  However, the people who love words (reading and writing) have a responsibility to separate themselves artistically from the bandwagon jumpers by holding themselves to a higher standard and being consistent with their mastery of craft and their attendance, which may even lead to converting one or two of the bandwagon jumpers to becoming serous writers.  Artists must learn to be like Jesus.  When the people come for the miracles and sensationalism, we must use that opportunity to make them true believers in the power of the word.  However, currently, there seems to be more artists who have more presence than they have essence.

 

As I am completing this letter, I realize that these are ideas that I want to share with other local poets so I will post it to the email poets list, but I want you to receive it first.  Again, I applaud your passion and desire to cultivate the local poetry scene, but the next step is to have serious conversations with your peers to clarify and define what each of you want as artists and how you all can find common ground.  You will not agree on much, but you can connect on the aspects with which you all do agree.  David, Jolivette, Ken, and I were all different people with our own desires about writing and the socio-political artist.  Yet, we all agreed that open-mic venues would be a great way to recruit young people to some form of writing and impact the socio-political condition of the city.  Even if all we did was disseminate information on various issues, become a networking nest for various grassroots organizations, become a place where politicians would come to campaign for office, and raise funds for various needs, we made an impact because we knew who we were, identified our audience, and was consistent with our craft and our dedication to the event.  And, more importantly, each of us realized when it was time to allow a new group to use the forum of open mic as they see fit.

 

Finally, Dr. Howard Rambsy—the professor at SUI—has written a blog inspired by your article.  True to his form of being solutions driven, he has decided to address our failure to document our local open mic, spoken word venues in a manner that shows the brilliance and serious aesthetic that exists and as a way to keep generation after generation from having to recreate the wheel or suffer the same issues as the last generation.  http://siueblkstudies.blogspot.com/2011/07/keeping-poetry-alive-in-mississippi-c.html.  Mississippi Vibes started being very serious about documenting what we were doing, but as each of us embraced more duties and responsibilities documenting what we were doing seemed, unfortunately, less important.  But, the truth, as Howard indicates, is that had we done a better job documenting what we were doing we could be using that documentation in various ways to nurture current writers and cultivate new writers.  Take care.

 

C. Liegh McInnis

July 4, 2011

 

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Kanika Welch aka Poet of Truth

 

WOW! When I wrote the article, (which was more of a personal rant written out of frustration that had nothing to do with poetry) I had no idea it would render such a response. In hindsight, I realize that the title I chose does lead one to believe that I view the Open Mic scene as all there is to poetry in Mississippi. You were correct in assuming that was not my intent. I suppose the correct question would have been 'Is Open Mic Poetry in Jackson, MS dead?' Nonetheless, I am honored that my thoughts have created a dialogue that has people talking and thinking. You brought out several points in your response that I totally agree with and a few that I do not.

 

Firstly, I do not understand this divide between poets who write to be published in journals, anthologies, and books, and those who aim to produce CDs which, is also a form of publication. When I became serious about my talent, I realized that it was important for me to produce work that had literary appeal and translated well in performance. This is why I could never be a slam poet. I cannot bring myself to perform something that cannot be read. Sure screaming and quoting lyrics from popular songs gets a rise out of an audience, but will my mama be able to read this and understand what the hell I'm talking about? So essentially, I am a poet that writes to be published and sees the benefits to having a CD and going on tour. Though the majority of poets who tour only have CDs, some of them do have books as well. Honestly while on tour, I met poets selling everything! T-shirts, jewelry, oils, CDs, DVDs of their performances, and books. I suppose it seems that the process of putting poems on CD is downplayed some. It is just as hard and takes just as long as writing a book. It requires thought and effort. It can be expensive and it deserves some recognition. Not every CD of poems is read to a track either. For my own CD I deliberately included pieces that featured only my voice.

 

I agree that establishing an open mic takes effort. I tried several times to stress this to Doris and Candace when we were all trying to "save seven". I couldn’t understand why they thought a 10pt font mention in the back of the Jackson Free Press would be enough to bring people in the door. I even created some very innovative flyers but they refused to help me pay for duplication. When you announced your "retirement" from the open mic scene I mentally went over all the reasons why we needed you to stay as long as you could. Always busy, I never got around to writing anything down but I feel now is a good time to go over a few things. #1 I have never heard of The Shop. I would have not even thought to scout out such a thing and had I the thought I would have no earthly idea where to even begin looking!

#2 Young poets are mostly consumed with CDs and touring because they don’t have a tangible alternative. Jolivette Anderson is the reason why I did not stop writing when I was a teenager. I never told her this, but she helped turn a past time into a career just by being. Had not C. Leigh McInnis held my hand through the editing process while submitting to Black Magnolias I would have no idea that such a thing was even possible for me! I had heard poets talk about editing poems with no real example of what that meant. So forget all that about having different aesthetics. You helped me and I'm sure others see the importance in your aesthetic thus opening up an entire realm of possibilities for my work. And this is the job of those that have come before to reach out to us and show us why writing and being versatile is important. Like you, I have read poems for all types of audiences and am proud to know that I can.

 

I disagree that Open Mic is about your 15 minutes of fame. I think that does hold true for some but for most its therapy. I need the open mic because I need to read those pieces that won’t make me "famous." I call them the "poems from my diary." It is a form of release for me. Sometimes I don’t want to be The Poet of Truth. I want to be Kanika, reading a poem I wrote on a napkin. 

 

 I hope this dialogue brings about some actions and positive change for all generations of Mississippi poets and writers. I have received word that Nathan is starting up an open mic at Suite 106 on Sunday and there is also one at the Locker Room downtown on Friday.

 

Kanika Welch aka Poet of Truth

 

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Truth,

 

Yes, as a published writer, you are part of the international discourse.  That’s what it means to be published.  And as part of this discourse you must be prepared for your work to spark intense or even controversial discussion.  It is also clear that your response is proof that you are thinking seriously about your ideas.  I am not surprised, and that is a good thing.  Also, my response was not about you as a poet but moreso about the generation of spoken word poets I have encountered at Seven and around the country.  Yet, most of the poets I admire are well-crafted enough to write effectively for the page and the stage.  Accordingly, the divide is not about better or worse, per se, but about particular aesthetics or craftsmanship that may be more effective on the page or more effective on the stage, with the understanding that both mediums, page and stage, can be divided into differing categories or aesthetics.  For instance, the aesthetics of Callaloo is slightly different than The New Yorker.  So, not all journals have the exact same aesthetic approach.  However, the issue for me is that the vast majority of spoken word poets I have met in the past have chosen to craft poems moreso for the stage, having little to no clue about the various aesthetics for page publication, but then seek affirmation from page circles or hold them in distain because of being unable to be published.  This is certainly not true of all spoken word poets, but it is true of a good number that I have meet.   Their attitude or approach seems to speak of a lack of history, which speaks of a lack of seriousness.  To call oneself a poet but not to know the history of poetry (spoken and printed) would seem to limit the person’s understanding of poetry as a mastery of words, in all of its manifestation.

 

Secondly, and I just may be old, but to call oneself a poet while on a poetry tour, and to be selling t-shirts, jewelry, and oils seems to assert that the poetry is no more than the t-shirts, jewelry, and oils, merely a medium to earn money, not something to be crafted as an intellectual engagement.  To be clear, I am not saying that a poet does not have the right to do what one desires with one’s art or forum, but I prefer the emphasis to be on words.  Now, these poets selling t-shirts, jewelry, and oils could argue that they are merely supplementing their income in the same way that a writer who works as a college instructor supplements his.  My only counter is that even as a teacher I am engaged in the discussion and mastery of words whereas the selling of t-shirts, jewelry, and oils speaks more to the use of poetry as a commodity.  This, however, is not the fault of the spoken word poets.  Even though all poetry began in the ancient world as oral, the term “spoken word” was created and modified to mean something slightly different than poetry crafted for the page.  Later, that term, “spoken word,” became a term of commodification so as to create distance between the poets crafting for the page and the poets crafting for the stage.  Now, a poorly crafted poem is a poorly crafted poem, whether it was crafted for page or stage.  And, of course, the judging of a poorly crafted poem is in the eye/aesthetic of the beholder.    But, it seems that in the spoken word world, the emphasis is more on the poet as performer than on the poet as intellect.  I am not saying that one cannot be both a performer and an intellect.  I am saying that engaging words on a CD is not the same as engaging words on a page.  To hear words is not nearly as intellectual an act as reading them because the mind processes written language (phonemes, morphemes, syntax, and semantics) differently than it processes oral language.

 

Of course, I agree that Doris and Candace could have done more, but I realize that they did their best given the fact that they were not connected to the fine arts community.  However, while you and a few others invested time and effort, as a whole the poets that frequented Seven between 2006 and 2010 acted more like divas—the males included—than builders.  My goal is not to point my finger and say “y’all are doing this wrong,” but to raise awareness among all the people who claim to love Seven of what needs to be done to maintain an arts movement.  So, you, as a leader, must ask your peers what are they doing?  How many flyers are thy disseminating?  Are they regularly attending, and are they being punctual when they attend?  Each of us must learn to keep each other’s feet to the fire in love and honesty.

 

The reason that you do not know more about The Shop is that workshops were few and far between and very few of the poets that frequented Seven also attended more academic events at JSU and Tougaloo.  I did not want to be the sour old dude always taklin’ ‘bout “In my day blah, blah, blah…”  So, a conversation about The Shop would have been more conducive during a workshop or conference, but not many Seven poets even attended the evening panels or workshops of the Margaret Walker Festival.  And while it may be unfair, one of the ways that I judge a writer’s seriousness about one’s craft,  be it page or stage, is whether or not the writer is open to attending workshops, conferences, and festival, merely for the sake of discussing craft or craftsmanship.  It would be in those type of venues where I would discuss The Shop as well as other issues.

 

Young poets are mostly consumed with CDs and touring for two reasons:  they are not serious readers, or they enjoy that spoken word offers a more immediate response and feedback than submitting a poem and waiting a few months to be notified if it is accepted or rejected.  At the core of this discussion is the notion that reading is not as prevalent in our community as in the community of our white counterparts.  We understand how poverty, teen parenting, and so many other issues negatively affect the development of our children as serious or scholarly readers.  What exists in a circular relationship with a lack of reading is the fact that African (American) middle-schools and high schools rarely have a relationship with a college that offers an undergraduate, MFA, or PhD in creative writing.  So, a white middle-school child can envision a career in creative writing because he is exposed to it whereas an African (American) middle-school child cannot envision a career in creative writing so he/she chooses hip hop, spoken word, or the new church themed theatre.  Had more of these young people been exposed to reading and writing as viable career opportunities, then more young poets would engage publishing.  And to address all aspects, part of this problem also has to do with many racist English teachers, including creative writing teachers, who have developed creating writing as an exclusive club.  Yet, the Black Arts Movement, moreso than the Harlem Renaissance, taught us that we must create our own sovereign institutions, including publishing, but, again, the lack of reading in our community makes it seem almost impossible to a young poet to build something that one’s peers or community in a mass level will not support.  That most people purchase CDs is clear to the young poet.  However, not nearly as many people in our community purchase books.  But, where is the young poet’s responsibility to cultivate a readership?

 

I did not say that open mic was only about gaining fifteen minutes of fame for all of the poets, but  for a good number of poets.  My point is that there must be more poets like you who see it as their mission to be consistent so as to create a standard for other poets to reach.  For example, during the Mississippi Vibes run there was this guy who came and read the same sad sex poem every Saturday night.  Now, because we were engaging our audience in other activities during the week, they—the audience members not the poets—were the ones who wanted us to ban him.  Jolivette had decided that she was just going to choke him until he stopped coming.  Those were her words.  So, to keep Jolivette from “catching a case,” I decided to put myself on the list immediately after him.  One, it would re-elevate the standard that he had lowered, and it would serve as an instant example to him of the difference between porn and erotica, that well-crafted poetry is as concerned with how one says as it is with what one says, and that people tend to enjoy well-crafted poems more than poorly crafted poems, depending, of course, on one’s aesthetic.  I actually wrote a poem specifically for that purpose, and, for a while, much to my wife’s dismay, it became one of the poems for which I was most known—“Nasty Three Way.”  The audience loved the poem, even though I never used profanity, and it is laced with imagery.  But, more importantly, that very night, the young man came to me and said, “That’s what I be trying to do.”  I knew that he wanted the applause, but it was my opportunity to teach him that to get the applause that he wanted and more he had to be serious and work more on craft.  After a month or so he decided that he didn’t want to work that diligently to earn applause.  My goal was not to alienate him, but it was to maintain a standard of a certain aesthetic.  Nothing would have stopped him from seeking a place where his poem would have been accepted.  But, it is the job and responsibility of the studied, schooled, or well-crafted poets to ensure that the fame seekers or bandwagon jumpers do not lower the standard of what you all are trying to build.

 

If nothing else, this discussion will cause local poets to think more seriously about their work.  It may not and should not necessarily change how they write, but it cannot hurt when a community of poets are thinking seriously and honestly about craft.

 

C. Liegh McInnis

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MONDAY, JULY 4, 2011