That's MY vroom-vroom!

"I nuh support anybody weh just tek fi we name; and if you go deh you da wa traitor!"

Those were the words of my best friend and old performance poetry co-coordinator when I asked him if he was going to 'Perk Up's Candle Light Poetry Night'.  he was right, of course.  no matter which way I turned it around in my head trying to ameliorate the whole situation, it still ticks in my craw just a little bit.  Sure "Poetry Night" doesn't exactly scream proprietary product; and sure, we'dgone on an indefinite hiatus.  Poetry Night was just sitting there; an all but discared thing, a lonely child just begging to be picked up, brushed off, and taken home.  Jackee Burns picked it up.  As much as I tell myself that this is a good and just and probably all for the best, it still annoys me on some level.

At the same time I pity her for her new burden.  She's decided to make it a weekly thing, the poor dear.  I know from the many times that we just barely made the monthly shows that down that pat lies only heartbreak.  She's also less organized, which means most of the shows involve herself and her friends reading from anthologies and collections by other authors, whom i don't even know if she tries to contact. The first one I went to (yes, i've committed this betrayal before) the audio was horrible, a single hand-held PA system that had obviously been untested in this kind of setting.  There was nothing to focus the attention of the audience and the crowd was obviously more interested in their meals.

This time things werent any better.  The candles around the room were a very nice touch, but it resultd in the performers (Jackee and her sister, mostly, and a shy young lady who sang quite prettily, with her hands in her pockets and her eyes on the floor.)  Standing in a dark corner.  The dominoes game going on at the center table was a fresh annoyance, but there were still old classics like the demonic hiss of the espresso machine mid-lyric.

So what's a guy in my position to do?  I want my show back, and more and more I'm seeing reason and opportunity to do so.  But, these days, my concentration is fractured, in a million places at once.  It would make sense to bring on new members, new coordinators.  But at the same time, the only people I know that have a similar vision of what these shows should be are already working with me.  Does that sound arrogant?  I think it might be.  And I think that might be a problem.  I'd like to bring in other people but there are some directions that i don't want to go.  The cheap, easy route; the way of compromising and easy-roading and second besting, just isn't for me.  And around here the alternative isn't for most other people.

Aside from that, I really don't want to step on anyone's toes.  That might be the result of my notorious non-confrontationalism; my biggest fault.  They've got something going there, in their minds, and I'd rather not be the tantrum throwing brat marching into the room and demanding the toy he'd left haphazardly lying about.  There might be a compromise to be made in here soewhere.  There might be a discussion that I can have, at least, with those involved that will reveal some new, helpful insight for me.

I was never very good at starting discussions.

Geoffrey Philp's Blog Spot: Defining Moments...Joanne C. Hillhouse

I thought of how I’ve daydreamed my way through life, always with parallel scenarios running on delay in my head.

I know I am a writer, and, yet, insecurity dogs me; insecurity, and curiousity, and questions, and this tendency to pick at things, and pain so big it feels like it might swallow me sometimes.

I know I am a writer, because, through it all, I write.

Geoffrey Philp's Blog Spot: Defining Moments...Joanne C. Hillhouse

Richness. I'm surrounded by Kings and Queens who don't even know how much I want to dance in their courts. How happy I'd be just being a prince.

Review -- Mahogany Whispers

Lets admit it, Poetry Publication in Belize has gotten a bad rap over the years. We hear this one has a new collection and that one has a book launch and it rolls right off our backs. 'Vanity publishing', we say with sneer. Its not for us, we say. Its something for the author and his or her close friend and the artsy-fartsy crowd. Well, if you truly think that then you've been missing out on a lot.

There are gems in Belize. Its not just a catch phrase thought up by the tourism board. Well, maybe it is. Nitpicky, over-thinker that I am I hesitate to call Ritamae Hyde's “Mahogany Whispers” a gem. But, considering its the first collection of poems that the young university lecturer has published its not too far off. As an introduction to readers, the collection is very well put together. Reading through the pages we get a picture of a remarkable young woman; one who realizes her own beauty and the value of it. We see her falling in love and suffering heartbreak, simultaneously, both in the romantic sense and the conflicted sense one feels for ones nation. We see a woman enjoying the allure of herself, swimming comfortably in a world made up of her own skin, despite the oppinions of wider society, and more intimate family alike. And we see a woman who, despite grown up and continuing to live in the unquestionably urban south side of Belize City, has an obvious and deep rooted appreciation for nature, and for the ultimate origin: Africa. The book doesn't paint Hyde in the simple colors of political/social activist or ethnocentric intellectual, or even 'independent, modern woman.' Instead, we see a woman with depth, and a certain conflict of emotions that are endearing and familiar.

None of this takes into account Hyde's actual crafting of these poems. There's definitely a style here, one that is untainted by the homogeny that comes with 'classical' training. This is it alternating times a strength and a weakness. Indeed, among the most pleasurable or compelling poems were those that seemed the most personal. There, in poems about her family, herself, her upbringing, her personal hopes and fears, was the obvious gleam of something valuable. There was an energy put into those arrangements of words that strikes a chord with the reader.

In other instances, however, there was something missing; a certain lyrical or rhythmic quality that would have elevated her writing out of the realm of critical prose and made it equal parts cultural criticism and written aesthetic. This, of course, is only my opinion. In Hyde's 'The Perfect Poem', she lists her own criteria for the craft. Beauty is not among them. In fact, as the poem states in its opening stanza:

“The perfect poem

is not about standard lines,

rhymes or figures of speech

such as a hyperbole

or a simile.”

And indeed, Hyde seems to avoid these traditional poetic tools like the plague. In that sense, perhaps she achieves her goal in her own writing. In my opinion, however, while these elements do not make the poem, they certainly have their place. Reading through this collection of poems, I find myself missing these old friends.

And yet, I read through the entire thing in one sitting. This is unprecedented for me, whether reading Belizean writers or any other. Usually I take poetry books as pre-packaged snacks to supplement my literary diet. It had less to do with the contents of the book; 74 pages, including foreword and preface. It was actually the magic of the production. I usually grimace at authors putting themselves on their book covers. To me its usually another blow for the 'Vanity Publishing' argument. In this case, however, I have to admit I was impressed. Thanks to visual Artist Jahmai Trapp (jahmai.deviantart.com) the cover is actually a compelling glimpse of the woman who's adorned the pages inside. And the pages themselves add to the books 'pick me up' quality. I'll kindly ask you to wash and thoroughly dry your hands before you pick up my copy, thank you. No cheap copy-paper here. The pages are just soft enough to encourage your fingertips to take their time with the corners, but firm enough to actually stand up to a good leafing through. Even better, they're not white, but slightly yellowed, giving them a nice, classical look. The font is simple, which is good. Anything too elaborate would be a distraction in this case. What's more, the font and positioning remain consistent throughout, though in the few cases of poems that are only a few lines long, this does make the pages seem empty. I wonder how much of Hyde's input went into the production of the book. Did she, as an avid reader, have an idea of what she wanted? Or did the publishers (Ramos Publishing) or printers (Print Belize Limited) take it upon themselves to create something so elegant?

I won't try to predict where 'Mahogany Whispers' will stand when in comes to the future of Belizean Poetry. Of course, its the goal of every author to create something that will last, will be remembered, and will impact their audience, and their peers. Its too early to tell if Ritamae Hyde has done that in her first publication. I do know this, however. The book won't be spending too much time on my bookshelf. Every time I consider an existing or future Belizean publication, by Belizean writers, publishers, and printers, I'll be setting it beside this one for comparison. That is to say, I'd like to see more books like this one. And while I still wouldn't call it 'perfect' or 'a gem', I think 'exemplary' is nice enough, and true enough, description.