By Mel Cooke, Freelance WriterWESTERN BUREAU:
ON TUESDAY night Ashai stepped up to the microphone at Weekenz Bistro and Bar, Constant Spring Road, with a smile on his lips.
It was a joy that would soon be transmitted and transferred to those present, as he said goodnight to "all conscious people in Weekenz."
"Gimme de riddim/gimme de vibe/Want the sort a love/Dat jus' cyaan cloid" Ashai started out, going on to describe a strong woman that he just had to get involved with.
There were cheers all around, loud, sustained applause greeting his ending line that "now I have a commitment I will never regret."
SLAM-STYLE PIECES
Ashai was effectively the last poet on a night which saw extensive dub from Radical Kelly and slam-style pieces from Baruk, who disclaimed the title of poet. Regular hostess Connie Bell was a bit under the weather and relinquished introductory duties, though she did step up to read the final poem of the night, but Mutabaruka was in place at the selector's position, Buju Banton's Magic City among the selections that rocked the gathering.
Mezzan Morrison, all in black with red, green and gold headgear, defined herself poetically, tracing her roots to the Bantu tribe, declaring "I have travelled far" and making the connection between continent and island with "I have been taken across the sea/to green, black and gold isles."
From self-definition Morrison moved to space and her final piece was on attraction to a man who, "like an African Prince/Him move so majestic."
Radical Kelly's dub poetry was spot on their built-in rhythm, as he started out with Hide, complete with a snippet of Peter Tosh's African.
The dub experience continued with It Red In The Ghetto, Kelly using his hands to punch home his points, advising that those who feel hardship in a particular place are not alone.
LOVE SECTION
"That was the culture. This is the love section," Kelly said, changing the content of his poetry. Lonely was a sometimes humorous but deadly serious piece about the women who are "independent in the day", but "lonely woman can't sleep at night/need somebody to hold me tight."
From the 'yard' it was a trip to the 'broad', as cap at a jaunty angle, stout in hand, tongues of unlaced sneakers sticking up and a slouch in the walk, Baruk announced that he was there at the bidding of Connie Bell. It was straight rap style as he introduced himself poetically, stating "I grip the ground and reach for the sky."
Back In The Day traced the modern black experience, dismissing those who "get the pimple treatment/and squeeze till they burst." He kept to the urban theme with the following piece, about guns, drugs and murder and hit a dead end on the other poem.
"I did not write anymore of that one," he said to laughter.
A dose of philosophy ("are you dying to live/or living to die?") came before ending on a personal note that "I am feeling like my gun is my only friend/but last night it jammed, on it I can't depend." Personal pain was revealed with the thought that Baruk was "hoping for a hurricane/so I can cry in the rain."
With that, he ended.
After Ashai and Em Poppa, read by Connie Bell, Mutabaruka took over, moving from Enya's Return to Innocence to a series of songs with kicking bass drums and thumping basslines, as heads nodded and fet tapped on another Tuesday night of poetry at Weekenz Bistro and Bar.
