Polokwane in Autumn

POETS In Autumn. “It’s the season to be wordy, it’s the season to be wordy.” When all plans to attend one of the biggest International (note well) Poetry Festivals fail, you start looking for something to self-destruct as a way of healing. Because the Universe conspires with our thoughts, there I was on my WhatsApp when I saw a poster on a friend’s profile about an upcoming International Poetry and Arts Festival in celebration of womxn. This couldn’t have been better timing, and for the cherry on top – IT WAS TO BE HELD IN POLOKWANE – HOME.

Saturday, March 25 2017; there I was with my overnight bag. Elated and looking forward to the event, I arrived on time (this is when you know an event is special – me on time) and almost got lost. I was met by an A3 poster at the gate which prompted my mind to ask about the marketing quietness on the streets as I made my way here. Hosted at a car wash, a good spot if you ask me, I was met by cars that I was silly enough to think were there for the Festival, it’s a car wash dummy! As a characteristic, Limpopo ARTists are known to mingle before the show as much as they will after the show. It is after 2pm, the stARTing time, and we are still waiting – why, you ask. The message that the power is out arrives and I wonder, “Can’t there be an impromptu no-power-pre-show while we wait?” It’s a who-knows-who typical of any social outing where everyone is just minding their business. Excuse me, I’m here to mind Poetry! The guy next to me was disappointed in that he was out to check the Car Wash when he arrived to hear that something was going down and he stayed, the something he was never again coming out to see because besides not stARTing on time, there was no saying ‘STAY!’
The line-up promised to light up our City but with some acts MIA, we were to be saved by the grace of the Umtata-Durban based Kween, Kush Mahleka  – whose presence on the stage silenced the tipsy and refereed the background soccer game to half-time. Her feral voice got us on a serious high that we could overlook this Poetry Club dubbed International Poetry & Arts Festival. The Slam Emporium PLK Poetry Club is made up of Poets with good heads on their shoulders, but it would be appreciated if next time they put their good heads together and really pull off an event for what it is. If an ‘International’ event is going to look like a Poetry Club for beginners, may we be notified so we can stay home, or at least know what we are getting ourselves into? What is an event in the City without the City Folks?  If the ARTists are the only ones who are going to show up at their own events, they might as well host them in their own spaces. What satisfaction and purpose is there in woke people meeting with other woke people to praise each other’s wokeness when the City is dead asleep?

Dear Polokwane, the Autumn Leaves couldn’t be any more dry and brown. It’s official, Winter is upon us.