Showing posts with label Christina Davis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christina Davis. Show all posts

February 21, 2011

In Flight Kids Poetry Contest


Central Valley poets Christina Davis and Kenya Mitchell are pleased to announce the inaugural In Flight Kids’ Poetry Contest.

The In Flight Kids’ Poetry Contest was created to showcase the literary talents of Central Valley youth while encouraging childhood literacy development through fun, engaging extracurricular activity. There are three competitive categories; ages 9-12, 13-15 and 16-18. In each category there will be gift certificate prizes of $50, $25 and $10 for the first, second and third place winners.  Submissions will be accepted via email at inflightpoetry@gmail.com until March 22. 

The In Flight Kids’ Poetry Contest is the brainchild of Christina Davis, an accomplished poetess and Stockton local who has published two collections, Raven’s Brew and In The Face of Indigo, to positive reviews.  Ms. Davis’ work can be found at www.ravens-brew.com.  To make this contest a success, Ms. Davis partnered with Kenya Mitchell, author of the acclaimed poetry collection Blue Line to Wonderland and the forthcoming young adult game book, Warrior of Mande.  Links to Ms. Mitchell’s other publications are available at www.kenyamitchell.com

Both poetesses are proud to positively contribute to California's Central Valley community with this event and look forward to continuing this programming in years to come.  To contact either Ms. Davis or Ms. Mitchell for more information, please email them at inflightpoetry@gmail.com.

May 14, 2009

Incantations of the Raven

Raven's Brew By Christina Davis www.ravens-brew.com www.fireflypublishingent.com

Reviewed By K.T.Mitchell


Poetic elitism

In 2006, The Poetry Foundation's President John Barr sparked a firestorm of controversy in his article, American Poetry in the New Century, by asserting there is an "intellectual and spiritual stagnation in the art form," bred by "MFA programs" that teach poets "to think that writing poetry has something to do with credentials." Barr concludes the end result of this sort of poetry is " is a poetry that is neither robust, resonant, nor...entertaining," a poetry without an interested public audience.

In short, Barr outed "successful" modern poets for their worst sin, cultural elitism. Yet in his article Barr fails to recognize there is a growing, grassroots movement in poetry in which poets with real life experiences are making themselves known. More importantly, the general public audience that elitist poets so crave are recognizing these new "organic" poets.

Christina Davis first book Raven's Brew is one such example of organic poetry at its finest. This collection was born of a personal journey that leads to redemption, instead of indoctrinated erudition. the poems in this collection thump with a pressing urgent rhythm of an sorceresses' heart during her most intense evocations.

With her words, Davis takes the reader on a journey through physical and emotional abuse inflicted by others as well as the speaker's self abuse. Davis never presents herself as a proud martyr, as one would expect. Instead the words are magical cures that transform pain into learning experiences. Most telling about this collection is Davis' willingness to write poetry from the perspective of a woman who has endured sexual abuse, a topic most poets are loathe to address because of the magnitude of emotions that can be evoked in the reader. Davis deserves applause for tackling this issue without fear of repercussions to her "poetic career." It is in these pieces, that women who have endured this sort of horrific abuse can seek solace and know that there is a way to heal in spite of the feelings that might churn within them.

Davis, a high school dropout who candidly admits she seeks to improve her writing skills, intuitively has a feel for rendering delicate subjects within traditional forms and rhythms. As the momentum of the book grows, so does Davis' courage in experimenting with more complicated poetry styles. Davis deftly lets her skill shine through the villanelle form in Luminesce:

Paralyzed in your stare
Deer caught by a headlight
Radiance in your glare

Luminosity is unfair
On this lonely road at midnight
Paralyzed in your stare

Caught in a cross hair
Prolong the agony of this plight
Radiance in your glare

Taken to your lair
Whispering hints of stage fright
Paralyzed in your stare

Fear that my heart you'll tear
Blazing Bird of night
Radiance in your glare

Tangled in a sticky snare
Hungry to feel your bite
Paralyzed in your stare
Radiance in your glare

Although Davis does reach the reader's heart with her sincerity of words and experimentation with form, at times her metaphors can be mixed, the images unclear. Yet as Davis continues to focus on improving her craft, it is almost certain these kinks will be worked out in subsequent books.

Imagery errors are usually considered egregious in the poetic world but Davis will be happily forgiven for these mistakes as the reader progresses through the collection. This critic can say without a doubt that Raven's Brew is an engrossing page turner, which is quiterare for any poetry book. None of the "spiritual stagnation" Barr lamented is present in this book because it was written from the heart, not within the walls of any literary program. Reading Raven's Brew will leave one with the hope that the poetic elite would leave off their navel gazing and reach out to home grown poets like Davis so that a true dialog about balancing the importance of life experience with knowledge of poetic forms can begin.

May 1, 2009

All City Slam Continues May 2nd- Be there!


Quarter Final Judges ( Left to Right): Anthony Gonsalves, Chrissy Davis and Kenya Mitchell

This weekend, Stockton's All City Slam, presented by With Our Words at Plea For Peace, continues with an explosion of the best poetry from the city's youth. When considering the immense talent of the poets, Judge Anthony Gonsalves said, "It's so enlightening to be able to see teenagers express themselves in a way that is both passionate and inspiring." You will definitely be able to feel the power Anthony felt at this upcoming 2 day event. Turn out to support these artists at:

May 2nd 7pm
Plea For Peace
630 Weber Ave,
Stockton, CA

Or get more info at www.withourwords.org or www.pleaforpeace.com

Below are photos of the quarter round judges, the finalists and some of their work. Expect big things from these rising stars!

Alyssa Langworthy Wows at Stockton's All City Slam


With the charisma and finness of a worldly diva, ingenue Alyssa Langworthy continued to stun spectators in the second round of Stockton's All City Slam this past Friday. Awash with amazement, Judge Chrissy Davis said of Langworthy's piece, "I feel as if I am listening to a grown woman's thoughts!" Indeed, all of the judges were floored by Alyssa's courageous delivery, clever turn of phrase as well as the humility of the poetess. Visitors to this weekend's quarterfinal rounds can expect even more surprises from Ms. Langworthy.


My Man

Roses are red
And violets are blue,
But his two lips
Can steal mine away and damn day they’d like to
Full and think that smile that makes my tummy tumble
with each dimple that shows
creating crevasses in that cocoa colored skin that would even
make Hershey bars jealous
and I’m already envious
With those hoops he shoots
And the lines he spits always seem to overpower mine
More powerful and hardcore than I will ever be
he’s perfect in every way, yet the only thing perfect about him
are his flaws
making him human
because I’ve already found an immortal’s hand to put my life in
I need a man
One who wants me for me
Not what I have
Not that I have anything
And will love me and hip hug me
Tug my arm along his side going where life leads us
And I’m letting life lead me to him
And this time, maybe it won’t be the wrong one
But the right one
So I write one line each day about the time spent that day
cause maybe that’ll be the day
I’ll find a man stand before me in a crowd of boys
Still haven’t learned to mature and grow in their mind
Think they’re hard
But they haven’t even had it that hard
So how would they even know what hard is
And my man will be strong
Muscles of emotions
And rippling knowledge pectorals
Building bodies of opportunities taken
Connected by neck to a head of open mind leaking
Sad tears and mad tears
Through those stone cold eyes that seem to
Warm my body each time they lock with mine
I want a man who I can converse with
Tell each other of our firsts
And let each other see us at our worst
Hold each other tight and get us through to our bests
Letting fingers interlock
Spelling out our romance with just
Our knuckles
But not just in our knuckles
In the way he holds me tight
And I the way I whisper in his ear
In the way he calls me every day at 4 AM
Wakin’ my sleeping self up just
So I’ll be the first one he talks to that day
And in the way I can call him at 2 AM to say goodnight
And in the way I sit through a season’s worth of Kings games
When he knows I’m a Lakers fan
See this is how my man is
Or will be
When I find him
And you’ve heard anything you like
You can call me, text me 209 – 915 – 2189
Cause I am still lookin out there
For my man


Alyssa Langworthy has been a Stockton, California resident all her life. She started writing her poetry at the age of fifteen and is a sophomore at Cesar Chavez High School in Stockton. She enjoys every aspect of the arts and is currently awaiting her departure to college in two years. She spends her time between school work, her poetry, and acting.

December 10, 2008

Spur of the Moment Poetry

10,000 Thank Yous to all the poets who came out to the Open Mic and Workshop last night. It will be wonderful to see what creativity blossoms in future meetings. The poem below is the cumulative effort of Donald Anderson, Wally Condon, Chrissy D, Nancy Farley, K. T. Mitchell, Marie Rose, Gail Lee White and Chenoweth Wright.

A Tentative Star

Smiling with the crows just before the sun sets,
he walks among the tomato plants,
toward shanty shack
whispering to
himself, remembering


the way she looked under the willows
he longed to embrace her on a bed
full of pillows and from the window

watch the moon drift slowly.
Dreams of lives unlived wasted
by the useless war.

Flakes upon the mountain in sunlight
mist to rain. The snowflakes begin
their ballet, all is still.

En pointe, pirouette in the theatre
called night. The stars are stagelights.
Feeling their heat is what keeps him

thriving. Now grow and overcome
through striving. Freedom should flow
like silk in the air. Unfolding hope

from despair. A tentative star on the horizon-
a space station on the move
cluster around her warmth, spinning happy.