POET OF THE DAY: DORIS DAVENPORT

My friend doris davenport now teaches at Albany State University in Albany, GA, where she directs (and is the creator of) the annual Poetry Festival. Her collection Madness Like Morning Glories was published by LSU Press. Her other titles include Voodoo Chile, Eat Thunder, Drink Rain, and Soque Street, as well as several chapbooks. She's a powerful performer of her work.

(Photo by Doya Outlaw)

The two poems that follow are definitely season-related! I've also included one of my favorites from Madness Like Morning Glories.

(...brand new, came to me a few days ago - spring is pretty & glorious but LAWD! Pollen-itches-allergies . . .]

(untitled)

millions of things bloom

billions of life forms return

singing green, green, green

***

millions of microscopic

organisms

in each pollen

grain stuck to

my skin shouting

"Suppertime! Everybody

git some!"

Now, I know you remember so and so

meaning somebody who rode through town once, ten
years ago or who lived and died before your birth. They
expect you to remember, to know, just like your mind is
their mind and if you don't, they might take it personal.
Get so mad at you, they can't get on with the story.

Not like Fannie Mae. She will get all into a story and
catch herself: "But that was before you
were born." Great Aunt Fannie Mae will pause, grin for emphasis
and say, "And I just wish you
coulda seen it!

not me.
When i get through
when i am done
won't be no wishing
you could see.

You gone see.

(Photo by Doya Outlaw)

ALBANY STATE POETRY FESTIVAL: EVENING POETRY READING

The last evening of Albany State University's Poetry Festival featured Frank X Walker, Shirlette Ammons, doris davenport, and me. This event was held at the new Albany Welcome Center, a fine facility for the arts. I arrived early so that I could sit outside and watch the children and families play in Turtle Park.




Shortly after the sun went down, folks began arriving in the upstairs auditorium.


My friend, artist Cindy Davis, was among them.

Dr. doris davenport, the genius behind the festival-- and its director-- welcomed the audience.

She asked me to read first, and of course I couldn't refuse. Here is one of the poems she liked.

First Presbyterian

Sitting in church every Sunday, I hated the hats
I had to wear. They were small things with net
attached. Or hard plastic fruit. They did not fit
and sometimes they fell into the aisle or my lap
if my mother had not pierced their velveteen
skins with hat pins she wove through my stiff
hair-sprayed hair. There was no way to scratch

my small soul through those hats. No way
I could sit through the sermons if not daydreaming
out of them, using the blank wall beside the piano
as movie-screen, imagining myself hatless, free
of my hair spray and beehive, my hair grown
miraculously long, trailing hat pins across
the small town, heading north toward what soon

would be Interstate. What happened next?
Let us pray, said the preacher and I came awake,
though I shut my eyes dutifully. What was
he saying that I should heed, who was this God
who knew everything? Why should I pull on a girdle
and hose for His sake and sit waiting for Him
to call? Just As I Am, we sang, closing the service.
My soul took a deep breath and walked out

(From Aretha's Hat: Inauguration Day 2006, copyright Kathryn Byer)

Shirlette Ammons entranced the crowd with her poems, among them, one of my favorites, from her collection Matching Skin, from Carolina Wren Press.

What is Grass?

All of it—
the tin roof on Trinity Avenue
where the clouds sit and scheme
a seventy-degree Durham
before the heat peaks

A neither bad nor good morning

The Britneys, the Burmese,
a track champion halved and veined,
criminal attempts at concerned media
scribed by typewriters with filthy keys when

We all have medals we should return

The grass is a mattress for our trampling
whisking us past overdue fines and late fees,
oh shits and honest-to-god forgets
as we beg to get clipped
like a thief preying on sickly screen doors
in the beam of broad daylight

—Courtesy of Carolina Wren Press and Shirlette Ammons

(Photo by Jeremy Lange)


(Shirlette talks with students after the reading. )

Frank X Walker began his reading by asking how many in the audience could sing the first stanza of Amazing Grace.

He chose Chasity to sing, and did she ever sing it!

>



Then Frank read his poem.


Amazing grace! how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see ...

It isn’t negro
but it is spiritual
it do speak to the power
of redemption
to power period
converting lost
to found creating sight
where there was none
but what sound could be
so powerfully sweet
sweet enough
to turn a wretched
slave-ship captain
into england’s most outspoken
abolitionist and songwriter

was it the splash of bodies
dragged kicking and screaming
jettisoned off decks
of ocean coral
was it the crack of the whip
or the popping sound bloody flesh makes
when a sizzling branding iron
breaks the skin

the sound of fear and confusion
below deck
muffled by the sound of rape up above

the sound of 609 beating hearts
sardined into a space for 300

amazing is to be lost and blind
and still the captain
a willing participant
in crimes against humanity

but what was that sound
that liberating release
granting pardons
for penitence undone?
what does forgiveness sound like?

Thro’ many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come ...

now every time you hear amazing grace
listen for john newton’s apology
his silent sobs seeking salvation
listen and hear
what healing sounds like

’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home

(Photo by Tracy Hawkins)

(I pose with Chasity after the reading, to congratulate her for doing such a splendid job of singing! You can see doris in the background, looking on, obviously pleased with how successful the evening was.) Later I told Chasity that she could sing anything---blues, jazz, grand opera, gospel, country....etc. She couldn't stop smiling.

( The audience flocks to the book table.)

When the Welcome Center shut down, we headed for Orene Hall on the campus of ASU, where a memorable feast awaited us.

And, not long after, we were treated to a dance extravaganza onstage.



With Professor Davenport joining in!

This is the way to end a great day of poetry, don't you think?

ALBANY STATE UNIVERSITY POETRY FESTIVAL

Recently I was invited for the second time to participate in the annual Albany State University Poetry Festival, titled Ascensions, referring to Frank X Walker's latest book of poetry, When Winter Come: The Ascension of York.

I joined Frank, Shirlette Ammons, Dr. doris davenport, the creator and maintainer of the festival, and the students who came to our sessions to write and listen. The three day festival was high-energy and high-fun. I enjoyed every minute. As a native of Southwest Georgia (Camilla, in Mitchell County, a mere 25 mile drive from Albany) I take special pride in seeing one of our local institutions bringing the gospel of poetry to the community.

On Friday morning, I began the day's writing workshop by reading some of my poems and inviting the students to "steal" whatever they wanted from my work. They Did!

Fifila had a good time working on her poem.

Students participating in the work shop were the following:

Ronnie Myers

Nicolle Burke

Frederick Peges

Cassandra Starr

Daniel Bowman Forsythe

Fifila Griffith

Maggie Emily

Shawn Sessoms

Wilbur E. "Geno" Jordan, Jr.

Quanda Smith

Charquita Arnold

Geno stole a line about petunias from my "Glorified," and wrote a terrific poem with it, one that he performed in great voice afterward. I'll hope to have it on my blog eventually.

Glorified

Whenever I praise what she's brought forth,
whether biscuits or chicken stewed all day
with sweet corn and butterbeans, she says, "To God
Be the Glory." But I tell her I don't mess around
with an old man who's so far away he can't hear me.
I'd rather be talking to petunias that bloom on her porch,
or the bathrobe she wears when she's making
the coffee, her toes while she's sleeping in front
of the t.v., her big mouth that's snoring.
To you be the Glory, I say, feeling
so brazen this morning, I dare God
to give me the finger. Go scrub out
your mouth,she scolds, but I see her smiling.

DB Forsythe, Cassandra Starr, Shawn Sessums, and Maggie Emily work on their poems.

(DON'T LOOK!)

Dr. doris davenport proudly presents her students after they have read their new poems

She then read one of Frank X Walker's new poems in the persona of Myrlie Evers, the widow of Medgar Evers, slain during the civil rights struggle in Mississippi. (Mr. Walker has also written poems in voice of Evers' assassin and his wife. )

.....and reminded them of the open-mic reading that evening, at which they would be reading the poems composed during this morning session, and urged them to come to Frank X Walker's lecture/presentation early in the afternoon and his Master Class workshop following.

*************************

Go to http://www.frankxwalker.com/, for more informationn about Mr. Walker and his work.

In the afternoon, Frank, after a long, long drive from Kentucky to SW Georgia, gave us a masterful introduction to his work centered around York, who accomanpanied his master William Clark on the Lewis & Clark expedition. Walker's first book, Buffalo Dance, gives us the voice of York as he travels across the continent with the expedition. His new book, When Winter Come, gathers the voices of various characters, both human and not, involved in York's story.

Students listen intently to Frank X Walker's presentation.

At the Master Class, Mr. Walker talks about what good writing demands from its makers.

I took notes during the presentation; Frank looked at me and said, "You're going to steal some of this, aren't you? "

"You bet," I answered. If Jeno can steal my petunias, I can steal some of Frank X Walker's workshop ideas!

<

INAUGURATION Celebration with Albany State University Students

(Poet and Professor Doris Davenport in the center, flanked by performance artist Seed and celebratory students!)


Today I'm sending you over to my ncpoetlaureate blog to read the poems by Albany State University students, written during the workshop I led with my friend, sister poet doris davenport back in November. You can also go back to a former post-ALBANY STATE ROCKS!--http://kathrynstriplingbyer.blogspot.com/2008/11/albany-state-university-rocks.html, to refresh your memory about that experience.

So, let's celebrate with these students and with our friends and family today. We are witnessing an historic event, one that I hope will change the course of our nation's history.

Maria and Laura, by Wilbur E. Jordan, Jr.

I just couldn't resist putting up Geno's poem today, one he read from the workshop my friend doris davenport and I led (well, sort of) at Albany State a few weeks back. Can't you just smell the kitchens where these two women wrought their magic? Oh my, what tea to serve with this poem. What about Jasmine Pearls green tea?




Maria and Laura

by Wilbur E. “Geno” Jordan, Jr.

I do love the two names Marian and Laura . . .
and most people with those names.
These two names make me
think of hot homemade vegetable
soup on a cold day and
catered Thanksgiving dinners
for 25. They bring lace
overlay and pearl strands
to mind. The two, Marian and
Laura, Wylie and Hart,
Stokes and Jones, Bishop Allen
and John Wesley, hymns and
jazz, salmon croquets with
grits and Special K with fruit.
The loved of my life . . . Marian and Laura,
my grandmothers.

Albany State University Rocks!

My two days at Albany State University, just a few miles from my hometown, Camilla, Georgia, gave me a new take on how to make poetry a more vital presence in a community's life, in this case a university community. As anyone who has spent much time in academia knows, the community is often divided into its separate groups, whether staff or faculty. Departments may have little to do with each other; as for staff, the janitors do their work, the security officers do theirs. When do they all ever come together in a meaningful way?

My friend, the poet, performer, and teacher Doris Davenport, who was the guiding force behind the poetry festival last week, organized a morning program that attempted to bring folks together. We heard students, professors from various departments, as well as staff reading favorite poems. There were even poems in French and Spanish, and, wait a minute, a poem about zombies! Dr. Joyce Cherry of the English Department read two of her own recently written poems, and Dr. Hill, the current English chair, gave a strong recitation of a Margaret Walker poem.


(Ebony recites Nikki Giovanni!)

We heard two security officers reading poems about what it's like to be a a "cop." And we heard a poem by an African poet recited to the accompaniment of students on African drums. The variety and diversity was bracing and exciting. The mistress of ceremonies was a student, Maggie Emily, who managed to make her job look easy. I myself find being emcee one of the trickiest gigs around.



(Maggie Emily and Dr. Doris Davenport after the morning program.)

That afternoon I, along with Doris, led a poetry workshop, though I think it's more accurate to say that I was led. We began with two poems by President-Elect Barack Obama, written when he was nineteen and a student at Occidental College. From these poems, we wrote our way into our own experiences, and then, that night, the students presented the poems they had written that afternoon.




(Doris Davenport after the student reading)


(Doris revving up the poetry workshop Thursday afternoon.)

Our second day found members of the English Department speaking and reading, and the poet/performer Seed (http://knoxword.blogspot.com/2004/09/knoxville-poetry-newsletter-vol-2-no.html) leading a workshop in poetry, music, and performance.



(Seed standing near the Ray Charles Plaza in Albany, Georgia.)

The day ended with me, Doris, and Seed gathering in the oldest building on campus, the lovely Orene Hall, to present our work to the audience. I don't think I've ever read poetry before a more enthusiastic group of listeners.

Later I will be presenting some of the poems from my workshop, but for now, enjoy my photos from the event.

Goin' Down to Georgia

I will be away for the next four days, visiting family and participating in Albany State University's annual Poetry Festival, the brainchild of my friend doris davenport. Doris is one of my favorite poets (LSU Press, Madness like Morning Glories), and my very own Cabbage Sistah. She brings energy to anything with which she engages, so this should be a special event.







You can click on the poster image to make it larger and see how the schedule runs. But here it is, in case the clicking doesn't work.


* ALBANY STATE UNIVERSITY
Albany, GA

Department of English, Modern Languages, and Mass Communication

2nd ANNUAL Fall POETRY FESTIVAL
All Events FREE & Open to Public

SCHEDULE OF EVENTS:
THURSDAY, Nov. 13 (All 11/13 Events in James Pendergrast Memorial Library Auditorium Rm. 114)
11:00/a Poetry Symposium
Favorite Poems read by invited faculty/staff/administrators/students
Dr. Joyce Cherry, Facilitator
3:00-5:00/p ASU Students’ Poetry Workshop for
Leaders: Kathryn Stripling Byer & doris davenport
7:00-8:00/p Poetry Performance by Workshop Students
8:00 - 9:00 /p Reception
FRIDAY, Nov. 14 (All 11/14 events in Orene Hall except Digital Workshop, in ACAD Bldg Computer Lab)
10:00/a POETRY SYMPOSIUM: "Local Poets and Their Work"
1:00 - 3:00/p “Digital Storytelling: Narrative Poetry ” Workshop
Facilitator: Seed
(ACAD 2nd Floor MasCom Computer Lab)
7:00-8:30/p Performance
Kathryn Stripling Byer, Poet Laureate of North Carolina and Native of Camilla, GA
Stephen “Seed” Heathcock, Spoken Word Artist, Performance Poet &
Project Mgr. for The CarpetBag Theatre, Inc. (Knoxville, TN)
(MC & also performing, doris davenport)
8:30 - 10:30 Book Signing / Reception


(For more information: doris.davenport@asurams.edu 229-430-1383)