Tonight I went. Not to perform, but be seen, be supportive, and be fed. And I got a meal, I received nourishment.
Tonight I found connections I regretted not furthering, tonight I found connections that were recent, tonight wasn’t historic, but history is always in the building.
Let’s move on.
I have a secret podcast that I’ve done for about a year. It’s been a personal podcast for the most part, but in one episode, I reviewed a book, from a poet, a Queer Denver Poet. He happened to be where I went tonight–that person hosted…and I must say, Aerik Francis did a fantastic fuckin’ job!
When you are connected to a community, you’re connected, when you put yourself there. When you text or call, or show up at a show, or (scrunch face) actually get on stage on the mic, the connection is. Tonight I connected…I think.
About a week ago, I attended an open mic. It’s a well known spot in Denver, called the Mercury Cafe–or the Merc for short. I performed, but not really. I read a piece. There is a difference.
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| Q-Feature @ Slam Nuba/Host @ The Merc |
In any case, the host (at the Merc) was the feature at Slam Nuba, the spot I supported tonight. Slam Nuba is a staple in Denver, it’s a staple in Black Denver. If you’re a Black Poet performing anywhere, and you do research, then Slam Nuba will come up. Aerik was the host tonight.
I preference that because I saw Aerik perform a couple of months ago at another open where he was the feature, and damn…the boy killed it. So seeing him host was community, seeing him host was connection.
About a week ago, I attended an open mic, it was at the Merc. And that’s where I was introduced to Q…and a host of other poets and performers. Many of them were there. Now mind you, Black Poets in an integrated society are a bit of a novelty; and this is the case in Denver.
The word novelty is not what I want to use…let’s say unicorn…sorta, but not really…integration has (in many cases) divided this nation more than anything else, and has done more harm than anything else. (think welfare, and interracial relationships, think small business and jobs that pay more if you’re a bilingual spanish speaker, think cops shooting Blacks that get media attention, but not if cops shoot “illegal” immigrants, think free space, where this is spoke on…on a mic, in a room full of people.)
And think of the people that attend. Think of the people, the people, the people, the people that attend.
Disclaimer: I AM A BLACK MAN, HETEROSEXUAL, AND A POET. I WILL ALWAYS HIGHLIGHT MY PEOPLE.
Hope that makes sense.
I focused on the open mic, the feature, and the winner of the slam. Why the open mic? Because that’s who came to share, that’s who came to heal and for healing; those who came to speak deserve a spotlight because (see earlier words).
Sparrow, was one of the first open mic’er…dope, intelligent, free Black Lady. I don’t use these words lightly. She was free. Free enough to have a laughing spell at the beginning of her set, and still finish strong
with her piece, her opinion, and her food. She fed us. With defiance toward religion, she brought the heat, opened our soul, and prepped us to listen.
Shout out to Sparrow, who opened the ears, brought the smiles, vulnerability, and poetry.
Julian Thomas followed Sparrow, and he brought professionalism, the reality, and the truth about love. I had witnessed Julian about a week ago at the Merc. However, I didn’t understand his words until tonight. He’s a bit of a reader, who’s a budding performer. His piece about ‘don’t talk to me about love’ and the examples he gave should be vows that every married couple keeps. If you’re 86 and been married for 50 years, you can relate, if you just got married last month, and had your first argument, you can relate, if you’re in a baby mama/daddy/dramatic entanglement…you, can, relate.
Shout out to the activists that always attend an open mic. Shout out to Sleepy, who's an activist that spoke about Black Wall Street.
Shout out to Michael Jackson and the SLS who spoke on the people behind you. It’s real, both Black Wall Street and The People Behind You. When poets piece together the struggle with the present…it’s a powerful picture, that sometimes we don’t comprehend until maybe hours later.
Shout out to Zoy and Moses Graytower.
Zoy tore the mic down. He has a book coming out, and forgive me, for misspelling his name. I wouldn’t label him as a political poet, but his political poetry will let you breathe, big breaths!
And shout out to Moses Graytower. This was a young brother I got to share a little bit of time with at the end of the show. All I can say is … when hip hop and poetry meet, it will get you up in the morning. Young Moses, got me up this night. His understanding of friendship, storytelling, words, and rhythm are, not to be fucked with.
As far as the feature goes, I spoke to this man, and witnessed this man in two settings. He's a poet, a storyteller, a griot in the highest sense of the word. Q is a storyteller, a cataloger of lives, time, and space. To understand life, and speak on life are two different things. Some of us live life, and understand it, some of us live life, understand it, and then are able to speak on it. Q is the latter. Q is a big part of me getting back to writing…& performing…& community. You don’t always fold into the fold, sometimes you give thanks for fold-makers that fold you into community.
His poetry is heavy. It’s heavy for the old afrocentric, and new age Negro too; heavy for the white woman who came to support, and lay her guilt ridden bustier upon the stage. But the poetry has merit, meaning, and substance for the new Negro and old alike. It’s our past, and our meaning, america; ours meaning Black americans, ours meaning Mulatto americans, ours meaning us–human in america. Blending spoken word with acoustic drum, flute, and song; his performance was something we all should witness.
I wanted to give a shout out to the winner of the four poet slam Mahogany. This young lady brought the self love like nobody’s business. After listening to her poetry, I was inspired, as a poet, a writer, a black man, a human. So big shout out to this young lady!
All in all, I was fed. The people who were there were fed. No chicken, no drinks, no physical nourishment to speak of, but we all left full. There was community there (special shout out to the 4 year old who ran around free) there was life there.
We witnessed it. I implore you to visit a poetic open mic. It’s different. It is about sharing, it is not about judgment. It’s about acceptance, and learning. Learning can be hard, and so can acceptance. But I dare you to visit one, stay for an hour, stay for the whole set.
I challenge you to be changed.
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