David Coney

A Poet's Journey through Grace and Genius

The word “genius” is a risky and bold one to use in the title of anything, especially a book, but author David Coney can get away with it in his debut collection of poetry mainly for two reasons. The first is because the title of his book was gifted to him long ago when he was the student of one Dr. Abigail Jordan, a long-time civil rights activist who led the way for the installment of the African-American Monument that stands so regally on Savannah’s (Georgia, USA) River Street. The second reason Coney can utilize the word with some assurance is because of the disarming simplicity, powerful folk wisdom, and inspired unabashed accessibility that give his poetry its beauty and appeal.

Considering his professional background in electronic engineering technology, it would have been understandable––maybe even expected––if Coney had chosen to present his readers with a book filled with the kind of dense imagery and cryptic metaphors that provide some poets’ work with its literary flavor and texture. The Savannah-born author, who now makes his home in Atlanta, chose instead to draw on inspiration derived from his days as a youth growing up in public housing; as well as from his experiences as an adult surveying the nature of personal relationships, and the spiritual and social conditions of individual human beings.

As poets often do, Coney takes us inside the nuances and lessons of romance in such poems as “Midnight Interlude,” Love You Down,” and “No Time for Love.” However, in poems like “Femininity,” “Sacrifice,” and “Grace,” he goes beyond the romantic to honor the lives and contributions of women. In “Grace” in particular, he explores the deeper consequences of what he sees happening to the souls of women forced to shoulder the full weight of family households when their spouse are either absent, or otherwise disengaged: “…With the absence of man, she becomes what is needed/ Her softness takes a back seat, because she will not be defeated...”

A similar and yet different message comes through in “Freedom.” Ironically and surprisingly enough, the great prize this poem offers is not a treasure of wealth, sexual acrobatics, or political power and influence. His is a somewhat enigmatic mystical offering in the form of personal liberation: “…For the first time you can enjoy your rhythm/ Enjoy your flow without any criticism/ You are now witnessing my perfect evening/ I’ll give you what you want; it’s called freedom.”
Among the most compelling values that Coney champions in his work are expressions of gratitude for positive influences in his life and remembrances of simpler––as in less technology- and fear-dominated times––framed in postcard stanzas. One such acknowledgment may be found in “People of the Soil,” a heartfelt homage to Savannah State University (an Historically Black College/University (HBCU) that opened doors to higher learning for America’s minorities at a time when many others would not).

Likewise, “What I Remember about Fellwood Homes” is Coney’s tribute to a childhood that clearly was not impoverished by life in public housing, but enriched by a daily culture that fed the poet’s mind, body, and spirit: “…I remember women mixing up starch to put on their doilies/ I remember drinking powdered milk/ I remember the smell of McWillie’s boiling crabs/…I remember making lifelong friends.” Some of the references in “What I Remember about Fellwood Homes” are so specific that only those who share Coney’s memories can appreciate the full significance of the lines (which in fact was demonstrated during Coney’s reading at The Book Lady Bookstore in May 2009 when former neighborhood residents attended and joined Coney in a call and response as they added their own memories to the lines of his poem). Yet, at the same time, the flow of his nostalgia at moments is so lyrically sweeping that it transcends the restrictions of geographic or personal boundaries and achieves the welcomed warmth of human universality. Moreover, this particular poem is historically significant because the housing project Coney writes about was once Savannah’s oldest but in recent years was demolished. It has now been replaced by “sustainable Fellwood,” a modern environmentally-friendly project designed to accommodate both low and moderate income families.

The seventy-five poems that comprise You Are a Genius accumulated over a period of some twenty years. That means the degrees of intensity and angles of perspective they reflect can sometimes fluctuate and flutter like butterfly wings of unfolding time. Each poem is a quiet marvel unto itself, the lines and syllables illuminated by wisdom and compassion from the heart of one generation and presented with love to the soul of the next.

by Aberjhani
author of The American Poet Who Went Home Again
and ELEMENTAL, the Power of Illuminated Love… (mehr)