Poetry for the people
When artist Alfred Hutty first came to Charleston in 1919, he sent an oft-repeated message to his wife, “Come quickly. Have found heaven.”
These days, Holy City open mic poetry nights are a haven for artists and writers in search of expression and community.
April is National Poetry Month, giving a spotlight to the art form that is often overlooked and labeled obscure. Charleston’s newest poet laureate, Asiah Mae, is determined to open up more space for the city’s growing poetry scene.
“My passion lies in helping people,” Mae said of their desire to help poets find platforms and improve their craft. “There are a lot of people here who have talent. It just may need a little bit more refinement — and more opportunities to learn those skills. I want to be instrumental in bringing that to Charleston.”
Incubating more poetry around town
Mae, who identifies with they/she pronouns, told the Charleston City Paper they are planning what they called “incubation poetry workshops’’ at various venues around town. They promised more details to come in the summer.
“Other cities have infrastructure for their art scenes to thrive, and a part of that infrastructure is having places where the craft can be learned,” Mae said. “And in terms of poetry, Charleston really doesn’t have a lot of that. I’m working on creating spaces where people can come, critique and be critiqued, and get to a space where they’re able to feel comfortable enough to send out their work — where they can gain confidence in their voice as a writer.”
The way poetry is taught in schools often doesn’t include conversations of contemporary poetry and how expansive and diverse the art form has become, Mae said.
“The idea of poetry being elitist, that comes from somewhere,” they said. “The American school system does teach poetry in a very stuffy, old way of thinking, a non-relatable way. There are, not necessarily ‘subgenres,’ but offsets of what the ‘old boys club’ of poetry is. I was lucky enough to experience a lot of [those] coming up in the spoken word scene in North Charleston.
“I want people to step out of their boxes and their preconceived notions about what poetry is ‘supposed’ to be and allow poetry to be what it is.”

Space for expression
The strength of the area’s local poetry scene is in no small part due to the leadership of Marcus Amaker, who served as the city of Charleston’s first poet laureate from 2016 to 2022.
Amaker said he moved to town in 2003 with a “bag full of poems, but not really a lot of venues to perform them at.”
During his time in the position, he founded the Free Verse Festival, an annual poetry celebration in October. Amaker continues to lead Free Verse and organize monthly open mics around town. This month, he will celebrate the release of his 10th book, Hold What Makes You Whole, April 4 at the Charleston Music Hall. To perform at the Music Hall is a “full circle moment,” he said.
In his 20 years in Charleston, Amaker has served as a mentor to many poets in the community, including Mae, who is carving her own path as a leader in the poetry community.
Seeking a state poet laureate

Marjory Wentworth, an adjunct instructor in the College of Charleston English department, was the last person to serve as the state poet laureate from 2003 until 2020. Since then, the position has been open, unfilled by Gov. Henry McMaster.
“It’s important for every state to have a poet laureate,” Wentworth told the City Paper. “It gives the creative community a voice that it wouldn’t have otherwise.”
A poet laureate represents the state in a unique way, she said, bringing poetry education to schools and diverse, creative programming to cities.
Wentworth said poetry is one of her greatest sources of joy, and writing helps her figure things out.
“Sometimes there’s overwhelming parts of our lives — grief for example — and somehow when you can find the language for something that’s sort of overwhelming or fanciful, it’s enormously satisfying.”
She recalled one of her favorite lines from Emily Dickinson: “If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.”
Bringing difficult topics to light
Charleston-based poet Jammie Huyhn writes about family and identity in her work. In her debut book, Out of Darkness, Huyhn writes through the traumas of childhood.

“I deal with a lot of family trauma. In my family, it was kind of this hush-hush thing that you don’t talk about. And I knew I wanted to release it, in some way, and poetry ended up being the outlet,” she said. “A lot of these poems kind of wrote themselves. I work by spilling everything on the page and then editing later.
“I wrote them because I want to let people know they’re not alone, that this isn’t something that’s an isolated incident, and that it’s okay to talk about it. I also did it for my family; it was a reclamation of our history and saying, ‘This is what’s happened to me. But I won’t let that define who I become.’ ”
When Huyhn, who grew up in Hartsville, started her master’s degree at the College of Charleston, she connected with Amaker. She began performing at the Free Verse Festival, and last year entered the Free Verse Press competition, through which she published her book last March.
Huyhn said putting her poetry out into the world has been a beautiful source of connection, especially when she performs.
“When I first started doing open mics, people would come up to me, and be like, ‘I felt that. I understand. I relate to you.’ I’ve seen people cry during my performances. And I think that’s something really special, to be able to touch people in that way and to connect with them.”
Poetry as a safe space
Charleston-based poet Abby Duran shared a similar sentiment towards the safe space the local poetry community fosters. Duran said her first performance at a Free Verse event last May helped her let go of some introverted tendencies. She’s been an active part of the community since.

“I’ve been through so much trauma, so when I heard other people talk about sexual assault or abusive parents, I was like, ‘Wow … people relate.’ I dove into my writing and it was like it was waiting all these years, like 15-plus years, just waiting to come out in a safe place. Poetry — it’s just safe.”
Duran released her debut poetry book Between Words March 30, a collection that explores self-identity, intaking experiences from her dreams to unfold finished thoughts and honest reflections.
“Evelyn Berry calls poetry ‘skinny dipping with strangers,’ ” she said, quoting the Southern trans author with the forthcoming poetry bookGrief Slut. “That’s the best way to put it. Because when you’re up there, if you’re doing spoken word, it can be vulnerable. It’s a part of your soul — projecting that out — but at the same time, it gives you that space of healing and comfort.”
Permission to be honest

Summerville-based poet Will Davis is a community pastor and immigration advocate who said he got into poetry as an outlet against angst. Since 2018, he’s been writing about hurt and love, beauty and brokenness.
“Poetry is permission,” Davis said. “Permission to let others in, permission to be honest, permission to be free, permission to embrace what is and what can be. It’s permission to be seen and known by others in a way that typical dialogue or interactions won’t lend itself to.”
North Charleston poet and actress Nadine Béyond, who is also a day porter custodian for the Charleston County School District, published her first poetry collection, Love Makes Me Cuss, A Lot! last December.

“To clearly write down how I’m feeling, it eases any frustration built up within me,” she said. “There’s nothing I can’t write about, because I’m being honest. I’m sometimes in awe of what I write because it can be raunchy, classy, inspiring or even spiritual. It’s all a part of me, and I don’t have to be ashamed. I’m so grateful for that.”




