Story by Portia Choi
Photographs by Ezekiel Espanola
The councilman, Andrae Gonzalez, came to the open mic on May 5, 2017. He represents the Bakersfield downtown area that includes Dagny’s Coffee where the open mics are held. Gonzalez recited his poem, “Echo,” about his father.
At the open mic, the featured performers were Katie Collins and Frances Eghre-Bello, the top contestants in the Poetry Out Loud contest in Bakersfield. Their English teacher, Andrew Chilton, at Stockdale High School made the contest possible. It was the first time that the contest was held in Bakersfield.
The contest is a national contest. “Poetry Out Loud encourages students to learn about great poetry through memorization and recitation,” states the Poetry Out Loud website.
Collins said she memorized poems through “Repetition and reading out loud to her friend, pronunciation of some of the words.” Eghre-Bello said she memorized by “reading the poem a lot; and writing it out.”
For the students, the experience at the open mic to a live audience was different than at a contest. Eghre-Bello said, “it was a lot of fun. I was more relaxed. I liked the environment here, people passionate about poetry.” Collins said, “it was the most comfortable performance, not being judged. I enjoyed it.”
One of the poets at the open mic was Christopher Robert Craddock. He has been writing poetry since he was four. His first poem was:
“The tree looked at me
Up jumped the tree
Up jumped me!”
He read “Yertle the Turtle” by Dr. Seuss as a child. Craddock said, “I searched for inspiration. I was inspired by W.B. Yeats, Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot, Delmore Schwartz, Gerard Manley Hopkins and, of course, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.”
At the open mic, Craddock recited a poem, “Hummingbird.” He said, “My sister has a garden with aloe vera,” where he saw the hummingbirds. In the poem he contrasts the hummingbird and the poet in the last stanza of the poem
“. . .Hummingbirds
Never know the words
Because they’re in too big a hurry
To ever learn the lyrics–
Discuss philosophy with clerics
In the middle of a circus.
No, they’ll leave that to the poets.
Words are all they have to work with.”
The complete poem by Craddock is presented.
Hummingbirds Never Know the Words
By Christopher Robert Craddock
Hummingbirds
Never know the words
Because they’re in too big a hurry
To ever stop and worry.
They move on to the next flower and
If the nectar isn’t sour
Then they will take a sip . . . .
“Hmmmmmmm,” hummed the hummingbird. “Tra la la,
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?
One flower down, only nine-hundred and ninety-nine to go–
Not that I’m counting, but scientists, ornithologists,
I am told–with their slide-rules and microscopes,
And their probes, have clocked us at a rate of a
Thousand flowers per diem, which is the fancy-pants
Scientists’ way of saying per day. In Latin, no less,
Only used now in surgical, or situations liturgical,
Or when naming the flora and fauna, by genus and species,
Like calling me Calliphlox Amethystina ‘stead of plain old
Amethyst Woodstar, or Metallura Phoebe for Black Metaltail.
Heliothryx Aurita for Black-eared Fairy;
Lesbia Victoriae for Black-tailed Trainbearer;
Trochilus Scitulus for Black-billed Streamertail!
One thousand per day! ‘Hmmmmm,’ the scientists say.
‘That’s a lot of nectar.’
A heck of a lot of nectar. Hmmmmmmmmmmm, and tra la la la.
But it takes a heck of a lot of nectar to fuel this plane.
I never stop to count the flowers. Hmmmmmm?
I guess you could say, ‘I wing it.’
While wending my way through the warp and woof of time,
Weaving my way through the warp and the weft,
Why worry about words and whether they rhyme?
Why wonder what word best describes my emotion?
When what really matters is: my wings are in motion.
The tortoise, porcupine, or possibly opossum,
Move at a pace where such notions may blossom.
Maybe a mirror in a palace of perfection
Could afford the luxury to support such idle reflection?
I have not the time, as I hover in space.
Look how fast I have to flap my wings
To remain in the air,
Suspended in one place?”
Hummingbirds
Never know the words
Because they’re in too big a hurry
To ever learn the lyrics–
Discuss philosophy with clerics
In the middle of a circus.
No, they’ll leave that to the poets.
Words are all they have to work with.
© Christopher Robert Craddock 2017
