The Power of Discovery...Jayne Cortez (May 10, 1934-Dec. 28, 2012)

What most of you did not know (about me, of course) is that I am an active member of the Eugene B. Redmond Writers Club (EBRWC). Founded in March of 1986 and named exclusively after East St. Louis Poet Laureate, Dr. Eugene B. Redmond, the club serves as a poetical and literary voice for African Americans and other underrepresented groups within the East St. Louis/St. Louis community.

As a member, I am often given the responsibility of completing assignments that involve a great deal of research, writing, reading and re-writing. This task , I must admit, is one of the best exercises for me as a writer/reader and has proven to be very beneficial. And yes of course, since poetry is the club's main focus, I am also encouraged and pushed to dig deep into my sack of creativity, pulling out thoughts that I never knew existed. But isn't that what being a poet/creative writer is all about?

One of my most recent assignments involve writing a Kwansaba for poet/activist Jayne Cortez. Cortez, who is stated by Darlene Roy, President of the writers club, to be the first major writer that the EBRWC hosted in a reading and writers workshop as an organization in 1987, passed away late last year on December 28, 2012.

Honestly, until I had learned of the news of her death, I had never heard of her (which shows how much reading I need to do as a poet, esp. a poet of African decent). However, I have been researching her works and I am very impressed and enlightened. This revelation is a great example of the power of discovery. We often miss out on great things/people if we do not seek to find them. And now that I have "found her," read some of her poems, heard her read her poetry live and listened to some of her spoken word recordings, I am very eager to dive into the world of this late, great Black Arts poetess.

My favorite poem of hers that I've come across thus far is "So Long."

My man loved me so much
he wanted to kill me
cause he loved me so good
he wanted to die
cause he loved me without sorrow
so sad without tears
he loved me to kill to die to cry
so much he wanted to scream
cause i loved him too much i
drank his tears
loved him too much
i ate his strength
loved him too much i stole his joy
i loved him to drink to eat to steal
cause we loved so much
so good to love to love
so long to love
so long

Although this is one of many of her brilliant poems I have been exposed to, "So Long" stands out to me the most because of it's content, lyricism and slight repetition  From what I've learned, she has a distinctive voice in the world of poetry and that is very important for all poets. Finding and holding on to your poetical voice is something that Professor Cornelius Eady and I discussed before I graduated from the University of Missouri. My poetical voice is something I am still searching for. However, Cortez found her poetical voice many years ago and demanded that it was heard by all who had ears working well enough to listen.

So...here we have it. I have discovered yet another great poet! I am researching her works. I am writing creatively in praise of the gifts she has left our world; and my journey continues.



Adios!

Poetry as Liberation!

Me (El Williams III) at El Maguey's in the Delmar Loop: Fall 2012!

So it has definitely been way too long since I've blogged. Recently, maybe about a month ago, I was helping a very near and dear friend of mine (my sister) move into her new apartment and like ice-cold water leaping from some motionless shower head, a thought chilled my bones. "Why aren't you blogging?" I asked myself. "It's a very healthy and rational outlet," added my conscience. The question was as pure as honey and the comment as good as any two cents. Aha! All of a sudden, in the midst of my sister's rigorous cleaning, as she Cloroxed the unit's previous tenant's cooties away, I began to reminisce. The remembrance came to me shining bright like gold. In that instance, I began to long for one of the "somethings" (besides my many journals and photographs) that I claimed as my own. My blog. My baby. My poetical universe siting in cyberspace like a forgotten fifty dollar bill tucked tightly in the pocket of jeans untouched since last spring. I needed it and it needed me.

So, here I am. My fingers are pecking my Dell's keyboard in good use again. I am here to blog. Of course, I'll blog about poetry and keep you updated on my world as it deals with poetry. I will also use this blog as a release sometimes. Liberation! Isn't that what blogging is all about? And since poetry is my liberation, my release, the oxygen to my lungs, this ought to be good!


Holla!

"Fuck I Look Like?!"-Kai Davis