Death in the poetry family
- Ayala Bennett passes on the day of her Seh Sup'm benefit
Mel Cooke, Gleaner Writer
The October staging of Seh Sup'm, the monthly poetry and acoustic music event at Village Blues Bar, was slated to be a benefit for ailing Ardenne High School student Ayala Bennett.
Instead, it turned out to be a celebration of her life. Bennett died on Sunday, the day of the event.
Her image was shown on the screen at the Barbican Road, St Andrew venue, but it was the words of those who knew her which spoke best to Bennett's love for poetry. And adjustments were made by two of the night's featured poets, Professor Mervyn Morris delivering A Chant Against Death twice, at the beginning and end of his reading, and Dingo culled some levity from his set.
As Morris put it, "I was called to read tonight as part of helping Ayala. Now we will be helping those who most miss Ayala, her family, and I am happy to be a part of it".
Seh Sup'm host Clement Hamilton noted that Bennett read her work at the monthly Poetry Society of Jamaica fellowships at the Edna Manley College of the Visual and Performing Arts, as well as in the open-mic segment at Seh Sup'm. The format of interspersing open mic with the featured writers was maintained, with Marlon Seivwright, Adele. Yuri Stewart, African Pride and Iya among those who offered their words to the audience which was probably smaller than it would have been had Bennett not passed. DJ Iset played recorded music between performances.
Several selections
Morris said he had been asked to read for 10 minutes but, as he writes short poems, there would be a lot of them. After A Chant Against Death Morris read Tutorial, The Pond, Peelin' Orange (which he introduced as being about the difficulty of getting things right), Moment of Truth, Cassanova and Love Is, among others. And before reading A Chant Against Death a second time, Morris went into matters of personal grief, doing his renown poem, The Day My Father Died.
He also did Checking Out, a poem which is, on the surface, about moving house, and which concludes "we never leave/we always have to go".
Infinity was the first of the night's few singers, breaking into freestyle at the end of his single song and dancing his way back into the audience as the musicians kept going. Dingo, supported by guitar, saxophone and hand drumming, got the audience cheering from the first lines of perennial poetry favourite Blouse and Skirt Vibe. But it was when he bridged the sung and spoken word with Shopkeepers, calling on the leaders to serve, that the repeated cheers started. Keeping to the image of making a purchase at a shop, the order including "dutty gyal", Dingo instructed the shopkeeper "an' if it look like the money dead keep a small funeral".
As he had changed his set, the audience was understanding with a few slips in memory on pieces Dingo had not planned to do that night, his analysis of land also striking home.
Featured poet Jamel Hall remembered Bennett, who he had known for almost a year, and remarked on the effect of someone so quiet. He read a poem about the many things that could have been done together, concluding "instead, I loved you".
Iyunda, whose album Dub I a Dub Jamaica was released recently, took the night into often rapid-fire chanting, the musicians keeping time acoustic style. He included Pickney Love and She's A Rebel from the album, going a capella in the end to let the words stand alone.
Interesting take on song
Stephen Newland, lead singer of Rootz Underground, sat on a stool, cradled his guitar and did an interesting take on Peter Tosh's Igziabeher (Let Jah be Praised), in which he verged on adjusting the melody. Saxophonist Tafane (Tafawee Buchsaecab), the sole musician on the night to do double duties, accompanying Dingo and Newland, soloed as Newland sang to the African Woman.
As Newland wrapped up, Hamilton requested and got a song that was his accompaniment on emotionally charged train rides in the United States.
Sage, accompanied by Rasheed McCallum from Blu Grass In The Sky, closed off the night with poetry, speaking to the "soul wind traveller" and, in expressing "I miss you girl".






