Asante Adonai hosts open-mic lyme prelude

Mel Cooke, Gleaner Writer

The Asante Adonai Literary Lyme took its final pre-lyme step at Bookophilia on Sunday afternoon, open-mic host Fabian Thomas, on occasion, taking incremental sideways steps towards the current reader to gently call the five-minute time limit.

After Sunday's 'Prelude #2, Pre-Lyme, Post-Script' at 92 Hope Road, Liguanea, Asante Adonai takes the big plunge with its debut staging in Winefield, St Ann, on May 22. There open mic - where persons sign up to participate - is a prominent part of the programme and Sunday's second warm-up was dedicated to that participatory element of literature events.

Host Fabian Thomas set the tone by reading Words and a poem about Bolt's achievements in Beijing ("now dem waan come test our yam and cassava") and establishing the procedure for enforcing the five-minute time limit. Thomas said he would move towards the current reader as their time wound down and that novel way of calling time was required and proved effective with the first open-mic participant, Louise Spencer-Strachan.

Absorbed in her reading of Winnie's meeting with, and marriage, to Nelson Mandela, Spencer-Strachan did not notice a smiling Thomas, chin tucked into his chest, moving towards her in stages. Neither did she hear the giggles from the full house, increasing as Thomas got closer to the microphone.

When he touched the table as she started the line "In June 1958 ..." Spencer-Strachan looked up, startled, and there was laughter all around.

It proved to be a good start to two hours of immersion in distinctly Jamaican literary expression in verse, with a mixed-quality bag. There were invited readers as well, the first being Marcus Harrison, who did The Orchestra, What is It? and Your Love ("you slip through my fingers, a mirage"), the last striking a chord with the ladies especially.

Thomas gave Runkus an extensive introduction - and then found out he was not yet there. Thomas said when Runkus performed he would not be repeating the intro and the audience should simply 'ditto', which they had the chance to do when Runkus came to the microphone after the break. Sabriya Simon delivered Mr Religion, which she said she had not read in about six years, which referenced the line "since you are so spiritual, let me tell you what I know about religion", which came up in a discussion with a Christian when she just started growing her locks. Ancient Revolutionary was written about two years ago.

Verona Carter from St Ann's Bay delivered Backra Maasa was a Pimp ("a brothel, a stud farm, that is Backra Maasa's investment") and celebrated The Antique Man who publicly showered his wife with love and respect.

Cherry Natural brought up the break in stirring fashion, saying "me kinda do my thing different", as she took the microphone from the stand and stood closer to the audience to do Is Long Time Poets a Write, at one point saying, "poetry precede prose". The audience showed its strong appreciation and Natural also read Moon Energy and Our Mother, her take on the Lord's Prayer. "Look like the time no done yet," Natural remarked, when she ended. "Time up, but I couldn't take a word buck," Thomas replied.

Runkus opened the second segment, employing music from a keyboard player, his interactive-sung stories involving the audience. The first was about a young people's relationship across the economic and social divide ("she used to go to Campion College/me used to go to all-age"), No Woman No Cry utilised in the refrain. Runkus engaged the audience in dialogue about the direction of the song, as he did with his next one about a 'bad girl' named Caroline - after enquiring if anyone named Caroline was present.

sexual innuendo

Thomas did No Tomorrow and, coincidentally, Earl, the next open-mic reader, started by asking "what is my fate tomorrow?" After My Friend Brings Joy, he responded to the cut-off signal, making way for another invited reader, Mark Grant, who spoke to current affairs with musings on paternity (a 'jacket' described as a "modern Lotto ticket"). In a rare venture into sexual innuendo for the afternoon, Grant closed with a poem turning on the near humblest of wheeled transportation, the female character, saying "whenever my man put me on his bicycle bar/I come quick and I go far".

Sophia Walters slipped some Erykah Badu into her poem about memories of a lover to excellent effect; Barbara-Blake Hannah, who was slated to read at the lyme on Sunday but cannot make it as her Reggae Film Festival begins the following day, read to compensate for the unavoidable absence.

As the prelude moved towards its close, Hope McNish made a verbal stand against institutionalised ills ("I refuse to accept that leaders should be strangers to their constituents") and Yorkali Walters went back to a particularly fecund period after last year's Tivoli incursion when he wrote a poem each day for a month. He spoke about places where "painted leaders lie on painted walls" and included a poem for those who have children and can hardly find time to be together, celebrating "Mom and Dad escape night".

Akinsanyah read, Sankofa from the Lime Jewel collection and Takura was the final open-mic reader, a clip of Buju Banton's Til Shiloh preceding his Her Majesty's Prisons, Takura forgoing speeches about Buju and allowing the audience to make the connection. He made the connection between peace and production in his next poem, which advised the youths to "pu dung de gun/and make we farm up de grung".

And Thomas put the lid on the prelude with Yele for Haiti, concluding "we are Haiti and we will rise again.