INAUGURATION Celebration with Albany State University Students

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

Most of the time my laureate blog is devoted to North Carolina writers and events, but on this historic day, the Inauguration of our first African-American president Barack Obama, I decided to turn this post over to former NC resident and NC Arts Fellowship winner doris davenport and her students at Albany State University. I was born and raised about 25 miles down the road from Albany, so being a part of ASU's second annual Poetry Festival was like going back home.

I began my workshop with two poems by our new president, written when he was a nineteen year old college student. You may find those poems at on this blog at http://ncpoetlaureate.blogspot.com/2008/11/barack-obama-poet.html. The students jumped right into those poems, no doubt about it, and some of what came out of the afternoon's gathering follows.




(Professor Davenport applauding her students!)

From Dr. Doris Davenport, Professor of English, Albany State University:

“Night Soil of Dream” Poetry Workshop Poems*
led by Kathryn Stripling Byer
13 November 2008
2nd Annual Poetry Festival,
Albany State University, Albany GA



(Festival Display at Library where the workshop was held.)




(* In a well-attended workshop of at least 35 students, all of them created poems in the two hour workshop, using the prompts of two poems by President-Elect Barack Obama. Of that number, at least twelve read in the Performance segment that night. And of that twelve, here are some of the poems written and submitted.)

Our first young poet is Shawn Sessions. He was the first student brave enough to read what he had written in his small group. Right away, I knew we were going to hear some fabulous poetry before the workshop was over. Shawn is a young man with a whole lot of talent.


(Shawn Sessions)

UNDERGROUND by Shawn Sessions

Tossing and toiling as the water drowns my feet, I feel
the wind lifting my worries away. As I crash and
burn, these feelings churn through my body, teasing
me. Relieving my soul, this darkness asks me, “Can
you stay a little longer?” And though I would love to
say yes, I regretfully turn away cause I know
daylight is on its way. As my alarm clock echoes
loudly, I open my eyes as if being born for the first
time, Hello, my name is Shawn!


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Quavis Carter's impassioned poems, read with real urgency, stirred my emotions and made me realize yet again how powerful an event the election President Obama was, and will continue to be, to these students.

Two by Quavis Carter

"Times Change"

Neva thought I’d be at ASU better yet any college
I mean I always had good sense and book knowledge
Back then all I wanted was a fancy car with big rims
Now I take up time reading and studying for exams.
I have matured a lot maybe bcuz of my age
I’m still young times changed and Mr. Carter has turned da page.

"Black"

We were chosen 2 be slaves bcuz we were stronger than others
We make the best athletes & black women make the best mothers
Many black ppl won freedom & one black man won an election
So if you’re black look in the mirror & be proud of your skin complexion
Back many years ago we were on the plantation
Now they have HBCU’s* and we can earn education
I don’t care what anybody say we have come along
Want me 2 prove it Nov. 4 2008 remember that day.

(*Historically Black Colleges & Universities)

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Cassandra Starr nearly moved me to tears as she read "Tapestry." In it you can hear echoes of President Obama's poem about his grandfather. Cassandra is clearly a poet, and I hope she will continue to follow that calling.



(Cassandra Starr, second from right, and friends)



"Tapestry" by Cassandra Starr


Locks of hair
lengthy, salt and pepper colored,
sitting on the cerulean couch
firmly planted in the middle
of the living room,
in front of a painting
of a flower
that reminds me of her,
stunning, similar to the
petals of a flower,
for she has many layers,
mother, caregiver, quilter.
While sitting firmly
on the couch,
I see her hands,
fragile, small, worn from years
of work
sewing, sewing various pieces
signifying history,
for I am a mirror image
of her,
she is . . . grandmother,
binder of my
family’s tapestry.


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What to say about Maggie Emily? She's a spectacular emcee, as she proved earlier at the morning session of readings by faculty and students. AND he's a promising poet. Maggie, I would guess, could be just about anything she chooses to be.



(Maggie Emily)



"Pull Back" by Maggie Emily

The thin sheets, icy
stacked smartly
against the
thumping warm
whole hold whole
cordial cold, hello
“wonderful, and you?”
we smile, or mouths
do - eyes glossy
stare - somehow
the image through the
glass (filtered image)
is distorted you - I
loves-hates hot cold
I cannot feel the difference
(trying to) pull back I rush (trying to ) forward
(trying to) pull back I rush (trying to ) forward
the shattering sheets split and under
the pressure they dissipate


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Tiarra Mitchell is a firecracker! If you could hear her read the poem below, you'd know what I mean. The rhythm of this poem is irresistable. She blew me away!


(Tiarra Mitchell, foreground, with friend)


glistening beautifully I, I, I, I...
feel...
she pounding, throbbing, hanging in...
flowing down fluidity
speaks turquoise skies
she flutters, flies, flagellant singing...
"I bust the windows out your car"
highlighted anger
damn..ummm...ummm..good..
addicted, trembling
YELLING, HELP REScue me...please
hangover of juicy love that it..that she..that we..that I
us,we,she come together
STOP breathing...life
ambiguity with tongue loaded, softly, moist feelings, dry dreams
leave, leave, leave me
be, being, being
a new woman...
today, today...I am you
only beep beep, beep beep
loud whispers, slow whispers, no whispers
no talk
just you
those eyes
that glare
that feelings, so natural, that way
I, I, I, I, I,....feel

--------------------------------


(Performance Poet "Seed," who led a multi-genre workshop during the festival)
----------------------------


"Geno" won my heart with this poem, and not only because it has one of my favorite foods, salmon croquettes, in it. This poem shows how powerful names can be for a writer.


"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.



(Wilbur E. “Geno” Jordan, Jr.)

--------------------------------

Mr. Daniel Forsythe gave us a poem full of good sounds and raw emotion--t(he mind leaks (great image) and the heart fills}. I loved listening to this one!

Two by Daniel Forsythe

(1)
Laughing, yeah laughing
At you, laughing because
You don’t get me
Laughing & smiling
All because of you.


(2)

The love that’s lost
The desires gone
While the embers burn bright
For the love I lost

Moving through
All the pain
The subtle feeling
When I hear her name
The love that’s lost

The sun shines
But is much dimmer
The moon is bright
But not as bright as nights I remember
The love that’s lost

The soul grows weak
The body pursues
The mind leaks
And the heart fills
With the blues
The love I lost

Love me tender, love me right
But the love is lost, tonight.


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JUST HANGIN' OUT AFTER THE WORKSHOP, and POSING FOR THE CAMERA, TOO: