The Davenport Coffee Lounge played host Wednesday to a night of poetry and hip-hop sponsored by AU's Student Organization for African Studies. Themes for the night ran the gamut of politics, war, love and sex. But the strongest message of the night was empowerment and positivity.
The D.C. spoken word scene was well represented and true to itself. Fresh fair-trade coffee from Morocco and Peru sat with an unattended cup for money, and honest java drinkers tossed their cash in. Rhymes about being cool with everyone and letting go of society's baggage soared and spit across the room.
The first up for the evening was a poet who goes by the name of Christylez (of the D.C. group Crushed Ice). His first song, assisted by fellow rapper Bonami "D'mite" Armah on the beat box, talked of his "financial situation, and how money gives you options." His rhymes were funny, yet poignant, going from how much he loves Kool-Aid to how "hip-hop's getting captured like Saddam Hussein."
Christylez met Armah through Martha's Table, a nonprofit homeless and children's shelter in Northwest D.C., where Armah teaches creative writing through hip-hop. He teaches kids to express themselves through creative means, like poetry, rather than more destructive means.
Wednesday night proved that the Davenport Coffee Lounge is turning into an undoubtedly hip art space. Its bi-weekly open mics leave dozens of students milling outside in the halls because the floor space and leather couches inside are packed full. However, the spoken word night broke free from the acoustic guitar wailing of open mic nights and christened the space with mouth-made beats that flowed like holy water upon the former stone alter remaining from Davenport's chapel days.
Indeed, the show took many turns toward the powerful and spiritual during certain sets. Poet Kannikki recited a poem about the baby she lost in a department store, which, as the poem unfolded, turned out to be the vision of her aborted baby that haunts her dreams. It was really amazing to hear such powerful words spoken with the passion of these poets. Their rhymes flowed from their lips so smoothly, creating patchwork quilts of rhythm and alliteration. Indeed, art was created not only with the words they spoke, but also through imagery poets formed in the minds of their audience.
A highlight of the evening was Baltimore-based poet Sir Reigns. While most of his poems were about love (he recently married fellow poet and fellow Wednesday night performer Sonray), his first piece, titled "Diamonds," charted the disturbing course of a diamond. From the hand of a "minor miner" in Africa, a hand that gets sliced off by the rebels who exploit the miners, to jewelry store Zales, where a crooked lawyer purchases the diamond for a ring as self-congratulation for sending a young man to die. The misery he describes was almost palpable; the intensity and energy with which it was recited was mesmerizing.
The whole night included great moments of audience participation. One chorus by MC D'mite had people's heads bobbing, smiles cracking and mouths repeating, "Shake it off, take it off, break it off." Meaning, if you've had a whack day, shake it off, if you've got weight on your back, take it off, and if you're in a relationship with strings, break it off.
The D.C. poets represented last night empowered as well as entertained. They described the world they see and experience.
"This is a reaction," D'Mite said. "This is the world we see."
Eagle Staff Writer Molly Norris cotributed to this article.
