Latoya Saunders performs in the recent 'Sey Sup'm' poetry competition, held at Weekenz, Constant Spring Road, St. Andrew. - Peta-Gaye Clachar/Staff Photographer

Poetry was tackled from three different angles at RedBones the Blues Café, on Wednesday evening for the August edition of the Braemar Avenue, New Kingston, venue's monthly 'Evening of Contemporary Literature'.

First up was Latoya Saunders, third in the recent 'Sey Sup'm' poetry competition, who started with 'Free For This Moment', asking "give me space to stretch my arms, the eagle has nothing on this wide span of freedom". Her voice was as much a part of the presentation as thewords, her tone sombre for 'Death on Christmas Day'. On 'My Baby', Saunders moved from a playful purr at the moment of conception ("a little early-morning sex to get the blood pumping") to a near shriek as abdominal pain hit ("God, I'm gonna die"), then low anguish at the miscarriage ("my child passed out of me"), before the wail "Oh God, I want my child back!"

She wrapped up with 'The Feeling' and, on being asked for another poem, defined black womanhood through I Am, that woman being, among many other things, "concubine to backra maasa, queen to my Zulu King" and "the number one, the bona fide, the matey".

Anti-english stance

Rudolph 'Fewzion' Thomas stuck mainly to the Jamaican tongue, lively banter coming between his poems, which themselves often had a humorous bent. He started with a poem for the ladies, requesting "officer, me sey yu fi lock har up, yu nuh see a she a block up traffic, mek me a draw down gear inna me automatic", then went on what he called the 'flip side' with a poem about a woman who is "Halle Berry one day, Whitney Houston the next".

Fewzion stated his case for Jamaican Patois over the English tongue, demanding "how is English is my true tongue, am I one of England son?" before taking a cynical look at the practice of bleaching, commenting "me nah watch no face, me only a change it".

With outbursts of delight punctuating his performance, Fewzion turned his attention to the ladies again to close and, on being asked to return, examined the dangerous side of the night before emerging into a dawn where there are "12 hours to rest before another night's ordeal".

Tracy-Ann Brown responded to the evening's host Evon Wiliams' open-mic invitation with two poems, perched on an empty drinks crate so that she could see the audience above the podium. Her tone was even as she delivered 'Evolution', which explored the fallacy of revolutionary intentions ("you say you are going to start a revolution, an uprising of souls tired of imprisonment") which end up being what they are determined to overthrow ("the more you find yourself facing another version of yourself"). It closed with the command to the would-be revolutionary to "go start your evolution".

'Burn' is a poem about a crush that did not get to the dating stage, part two declaring "this woman wants to make love to you like there is no one else but you". There was a call for part one, which covered the initial sighting ("I felt drawn to your side like a butterfly to sweet nectar") before concluding "my body is rendered helpless against the flame of a slow burn".

- M.C.