In the late 1990s, I was a regular spectator of the poetry scene in Chicago. I met legends (Haki Madhubuti, Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez), heard the hot and famous (Saul Williams, Regie Gibson, Malik Yousef) and became a fan of other poetic scribes (Brother Mike, avery r. young, B. Cole).
As National Poetry Month ended, I got the urge to check back in.
Evening
I entered the Gil Tikie Lounge (9149 S. Ashland Ave.; 773-260-2344) where a mature, leisurely crowd listened to blues and steppin’ music. I was not expecting to hear any semblance of deep, moving or slamming poetry in this setting. How surprised I was when I walked into a second room of the lounge.
Soultre, the host of the Power of Words’ weekly open mic, stood near the center of the more intimate and casual room asking any poet who wanted, to take the floor.
Most of the audience was there to listen, so Soultre and her Nterlude Promotions comrade, Blaq Ice, did most of the readings. The subject matter ran the gamut: relationships, politics, partying, drug use, growing up, society’s ills …
Just like old times.
Night
Although I enjoyed the Power of Words, I was filled with glee going to the SupaSoul Sundays open mic at the Funky Buddha Lounge (728 W. Grand Ave.; 312-666-1695). One of my favorite poets, Brother Mike, would be co-hosting.
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My joy turned to crankiness, as the night drew on with more rappers and singers than poets taking the stage. And, when it was evident that Brother Mike was only going to host and not read any of his brilliant work, I decided to call it a night.
Late night (for me!)
Filled with a little of the old poetry spirit, but not enough to satisfy, I found solace in an old faithful: Peeples Taco Place (5944 W. Chicago Ave.; 773-626-7699). I ordered two beef tacos, no cheese, mild sauce, no fries — a wimpier version of what I normally enjoy (cheese and fries after 11 p.m. at my age equals a tumultuous night!)
For dessert: ibuprofen. Good times.