[Spoken: The Last Poets]
The corner was our magic, our music, our politics
Fires raised as tribal dancers and
war cries that broke out on different corners
[Hook: Kanye West]
I wish I could give you this feeling
I wish I could give you this feeling
on the corners...
- Common, On the Corner
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12pm Journal Entry transcribed from notebook
Well, it was bound to happen. I forgot my keys at "home" and am stuck, dirty in day old clothes at a coffee shop in Berkley waiting for someone to call and signal my exit to cleanliness.
...
Moments later, I must've manifested something by writing that down because a minute later Shruti calls me and I'm waiting for the BART like a chariot. Here we are. Shall we talk about last night? After struggling with whether or not to sneak in a nap before leaving and ultimately forgoing it for a chat with Jme that lifted his spirits (I think, I hope), I headed to the Mission for my impromptu feature at Dalva. Beth walked into me on the way there (of course!) and when I arrived, Charlie opened the door to the back room, a small cave of candlelight and poets and non-poets who listen to poets (I am always amazed that these people are real and alive.) The stage is a small area with just a mic and the venue is intimate and cozy, with that special vibe I've come to know as romance. I feel far too at home here, with Charlie's bear hug welcome and Jonathon's sweet smile and Baraka surprise showing up, passing me a note, Its good that you are sitting behind me or else I'd be staring," and Dusty Rose rolling in on his heels. Christine tapping my shoulder and all of a sudden I am looking at family. After a week and a half, I'm already feeling so connected to beauty and understand the Bay Area-Brooklyn lineage that I'm steadily becoming a part of. Bi-coastal it might have to be, one way or another.
Baraka reads the poem for me on the open mic, tells the audience exactly who it was written about, and as he recites, now from memory, I cannot help but grin a slightly embarrassed but mostly honored smile all the while he asks the questions to my beaming face in the audience. I am a little shy, but mostly proud. He hands me a brownie that hits me later, not realizing, but should have, what was hidden in its sugar. I feature. The quiet crowd comes crazy alive after "Questions for Yusef" and I feel the sanctity of words again. Having Dusty and B there fills me with a confidence and light I haven't know before. Their magic and support sinks deep in my bones and lifts me up. That is a rare and special power of theirs. I mostly read from the book, not wanting to bore Jonathon, who has now seen me read four times, and of course, something new for D & B, who've heard just about every poem I have ever written by now. It's, luckily, the perfect venue to bring paper and still look into each captive moon face, quietly and attentively drinking in your words and Charlie getting all Charlie-like geeked out in the back, claiming he kicked out the hecklers because if "they talk during Caitlin's feature I'll beat their ass!"
As with all of my readings in the city of romance, I feel wonderful stepping out of the spotlight and have the pleasure of watching Shahid Buttar, half hip-hop, half poet with a positive message for the world and the kindest energy. The small money I pocketed was also a welcome surprise, as the concert tickets that come next were expensive and the cab ride home was a whopping $50 split with Beth in the city of early-trains and no car. Oh, I forgot to tell you about Charlie's poem, where he turned off the lights and got down on his knees, roaring out the most hilarious tribute to cheese I have ever heard. Not that I've heard any tributes to cheese before, but you know what I mean. I tried to take a photo but it was too dim. His outline in shadow is posted below.
After the reading we all walked a few blocks down to 16th and Mission, "The Corner," which all of my friends from New York and the Bay alike have been raving about, dramatically clutching the chest where the heart lives and exclaiming, "Caitlin, you will love it!" Indeed. A group of unlikely characters are gathered around in a circle, candles lit and B&D introduce me to everyone as "Mama," which I've stopped correcting, and they start it off by jumping center circle to read one of their group pieces. Charlie gears up like a sports player about to rush the field and runs in like a banshee, the excitement buzzing as he shouts a poem out, full bodied. I instantly feel at home here. The unfortunate fact is Beth and I have concert tickets for a 10pm show, so we part ways after multiple hugs and a promise to join the corner for a full night next week. On the way out Tink shows up with her kitty and we take some family photos.
Running on four hours of sleep, poems, a magic brownie and three pulls off the peace pipe, I am floating somewhere between sleep and desperately alive. I am so amped to see Digable Planets, my favorite hip hop group since I was eleven, thanks to Dad's record collection, that I dance through Kev Choice's live band set, not sure if I'd like the music given other circumstances, but feeling the thrill of being in my body, feet hooking into every hungry groove. The DJ follows with Nice and Smooth, Black Sheep, Pete Rock and that pleasure of being alone in a crowd of people who are all singing "When I reminisce over you, my god" together, like a big extended family.
So I don't know if you've heard of this MC Blu from L.A. or not, but the man steps on stage and I think, "oh, he could get it." I like the way he rhymes but more over, I am watching the way this man commands a stage. His confidence oozes and I've never seen a more casual presentation be so captivating. He saunters around, banters with the audience, takes off his jacket, but leaves it half on 'cause he can't be bothered taking the other arm out of the sleeve, wears a West Coast, "fuck it" attitude and yet, we're all there with him. I watch him, taking notes, and later, outside I put them to the test, flipping his swagger back on him. "Hey man, your live show is bananas. You don't even do anything, really, and people are bugging out! That's real." He looks a little hesitant at first, but smiles despite and we talk about the difference between New York and Cali and when I give him my card he pauses, "wait, what is THIS?" I'm a poet, I say, and that's a quote from your man Doodlebug. He extends a hug and raises an eyebrow, "I'm gonna have to check you out." I tell him we'll link when he's back in New York, I'll bring a crowd to your show. Really? He looks excited. "Naw, man, I'll try but people in New York are assholes!" I laugh as I pull my hand away, turning on my heels in a cloud of half-smiles for the cab. The formula works. Beth says, "wow, you're good at networking!" Or flirting, I shrug. Really, it always lives somewhere between the two.
So I'd love to be able to tell you I made it to the end of the show but I was so tired and I felt the bass like it was living in my chest, a wild kicking animal and my ears were fuzz and I was getting dizzy so we left before Digable Planets finished their set. I'd also like to tell you that they blew me away, but while this was not the case, it was quite special to see them in person. Butterfly could get it, too. Uh. But really, I was excited to rap along with the old joints, even though I wished we could all step into a portal in time and see them in 1994 at Brooklyn Moon or something, even though it would probably be more like '91 before they blew up and started playing much bigger venues. Also, I think with all those delicious jazz samples they flip, a live band would have done them justice, though DJ Jedi does hold it down. But so be it. After the set turned to new material, I was ready to be out. I'm sure they closed with "Cool Like Dat," which would have been fun in a big crowd on account of I'm sure that was the one song everybody knew all together, but I was way exhausted like 'dat so we hopped the cab and shared Beth's comfy bed. I have never slept better in my life.
My advice to you? Tooth brush and earplugs and anywhere is home.
There are still stories to transcribe and share. I can't wait to tell you those too!
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