Conversations with Chris (aka Nocturnal The Poet) Crockett

Today we’d like to introduce you to Chris (aka Nocturnal The Poet) Crockett.

Thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, how did you get started?
I was born in raised in Michigan and Ohio. I was a kid struggling with learning disabilities, dyslexia, and speech deficits that persisted through high school. But as I dealt with all that, I also dealt with poverty, moving from school to school, house to house, and eventually, as a teenager spending four years in rural Ohio, coming from Detroit. During those years in Ohio, my reading abilities improved, as did my writing abilities. At 19, I got a job offer from a great Uncle I never met and drove to start a new life in Phoenix. That was short-lived; within six months, I was in Portland, Oregon. Eventually, I ended up back in Detroit until I moved to Las Vegas to be with my fiance. Then about 14 years ago, we moved from Las Vegas to Phoenix. I lived here in Phoenix for about 9 years, staying home, knowing nothing of the rich cultural Phoenix art scene had to offer. I did not discover that until I started performing my poetry at local open mics and slams about 5 years ago.

I first discovered a love for poetry through Edgar Allan Poe in 5th grade, listening to an audio recording of The Raven. But, as a teenager, my favorite poets were musicians/poets. Jim Morrison, Gil Scott-Heron, Mos Def and Talib Kweli, Stic.man and M1, Nas. My preferred writing style was rhythmic poetry, 4 bar stanzas, to a beat I could hear in my head. Eventually, I was fortunate enough to adapt my poetry to instrumentals from live musicians. More recently, I wrote more pieces to be lyrics with my band; then I wrote to be spoken word pieces. I still love spoken word performances, though, and there is no better way to fully deliver the emotion and sentiment of your written piece than to perform it out loud, spoken word style.

I never thought I would ever perform my poetry when I began writing. It was my way of processing teenage angst, moving from one home and school to another every year or two. They were about love and heartbreak mixed with trauma and major transitions within my family. Most of that was never written for anyone else to read or hear. It could be for the best that most of it got lost. Most of my writing from age 13-19 needed to be recovered. I spent most of my twenties trying to survive many starts and stumbles. Back then, writing was seldom on my mind. Then I got married, began building my life with my wife, and finally got the education I needed to find a career I love. Proofreading software has dramatically improved over the years. Nowadays, I work in occupational therapy within an educational setting. I get to work with kids with learning disabilities, sometimes relatable to my own, and help them find ways to adapt and accommodate. I teach them to use some of the same programs I use even in writing this that will catch many of the errors of spelling and grammar I would typically miss, partly due to my dyslexia. I feel like early on, writing poetry helped me to progress my literary abilities and expand my vocabulary despite dyslexia, and nowadays, technology allows a lot.

In my late 30s, I began to write again with a newfound enthusiasm and urgency. By then, I had been through college and had more confidence in my writing abilities. I was also now more financially stable and had turned my attention more to the world around me and those who were less fortunate. I had been lucky; I escaped poverty. But when I looked around, I still saw so much suffering. I had angst again, but it was not for myself or my own physical or mental well-being; it was for my community. I was writing about issues of racism, politics, religion, and misogyny, all things that are so difficult to have conversations with people about. But I realized I could have these conversations or state my experience or observations of them through poetry. But, for the sincerity of my words to be expressed, I needed to look the people in the eye while I said them. I had to face my fear of an audience, stand on stage, and deliver. So, it’s what I did.

As I did, I was constantly surprised and uplifted by the responses. It feels good to know that other people see what you see, feel how you feel, and genuinely appreciate hearing it from the stage. It makes me feel less alone and encourages me to keep speaking out. I also went through a transition within myself from a more introverted person to a more extroverted. Sometimes I feel like an extrovert stuck in an introvert’s body. But making myself vulnerable from the stage allows people to approach and start a conversation with me. That gives the introvert gatekeeper controlling my body permission to let the extrovert out. As I began participating in local slams and open mics and creating an online presence, I realized I needed a moniker to make it easier to find my online presence. Growing up with parents who made their livings working and performing in bars, bedtime was subjective in my house. I have always been a bit Nocturnal. Since my poems often flowed out at night in bursts of writing, I named myself Nocturnal Flow. However, I changed it to Nocturnal The Poet a few months later because it was a little more direct, keeping in my poetry style.

Around the time I started performing, I also attended First Church UCC, a great progressive church that does a lot of work in the community. The community there welcomed my poetry bringing attention to issues of structural racism and social and economic injustices, including the role religion has played in these injustices historically. I eventually became Poet Laurette of First Chruch UCC and, with their help, created The Art of Justice Open Mic and Art Show, which is currently on hiatus and looking for volunteers for a planning committee to keep it going as a not-for-profit community open mic that brings attention to different issues of social justice by highlighting artists and activists who seek to make a difference. People can contact me if they want to be a part of that. Recently my journey has taken me to the formation of a collective, conceived as a collection of artists from diverse personal and musical backgrounds to come together and create music. From that, the band Unexpected Collective was born. Four years since the original conception of the idea, the band lineup has changed and shifted and continues to. Trey Vincent and I are the only two original members, and we are currently working on our debut album with our current bandmates Omar Acevedo, Jeff Eckle, and Ramon (he likes to be mysterious like that), performing our songs live, and creating a new open jam event at El Charro Hipster. The new event will be An Unexpected Jam starting at 8 pm on April 29th. It follows Grand Ave Porty Slam, so I hope that besides jamming with musicians, we get some poets on the stage putting their poetry to music for the first time.

I know many poetry writers out there write for themselves, or maybe they share it in written form. But I do want to encourage other poets to get out there and perform their pieces. Why would a painter paint beautiful pictures and place them in a closet? That does not help you or the world. Share your art and gifts. I am starting two new events to encourage just that! The first is Grand Ave Poetry Slam, followed by An Unexpected Jam. Both will be held on the last Saturday of each month at El Charro Hipster, with the Slam starting at 5 pm. The Slam will go by basic slam rules, original pieces only, no props, no costume, no music, just a microphone, and your opportunity to express yourself through poetry truly. 3 rounds determine a winner. The slam poetry community in Phoenix is bursting with talent; on top of being a diverse, supportive community, New poets should not feel intimidated, as the Phoenix poetry community is a very welcoming one; Phoenix also has some very talented and creative musicians that make an improvised jam sound like a rehearsed and recorded classic. So I am very excited about An Unexpected Jam and the Poetry Slam.

We all face challenges, but looking back, would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Ha. Now I feel like I already answered this in the last part. Should I have saved some for the rest of the interview? Hahaha Well, as stated, I dealt with learning disabilities like ADHD and Dyslexia. I was also in speech therapy throughout most of elementary. After I went to college for occupational therapy, I learned about dyslexia and that there were more kinds than just one. Growing up, my Mom was illiterate and suffered severely from dyslexia. As a child, I would try to read her horoscope to her. I could read, but not very well. I thought, “How can I have dyslexia? I can reach much better than her?” I did not have symptoms of letters moving around, as she described. But I now understand dyslexia can present in different ways with varying effects on others. I relied very much on visual memory. I recognized words and knew how they sounded pronounced. The older I got, the more I realized this and the more I read along visually with the teacher, or with the captions on a program, to the lyrics of a song. As I wrote, I would look up words I had written in the thesaurus to expand my vocabulary, learn more ways to express myself and expand my visual memory of words needed to make it possible to read faster. I would type unfamiliar words into an internet search and play audio of the word to learn what it sounded like knowing I could not pronounce it correctly trying to use phonetics alone due to Dysphonic Dyslexia I suffered.

The other hardships were social-economic. We were poor but housed and fed thanks to government assistance. However, moving was a constant. While I spent many of my early years right outside of Detroit limits in Roseville, Michigan, in middle school, I found myself the only white boy in inner-city Detroit. Life was present there, and I was a target every minute of every day. But I learned a lot from this experience.

On the one hand, I knew how it felt to be discriminated against just based on skin color. But I also learned what white privilege looked like, or rather its absence. How could anyone be happy, cheerful, hopeful, or supported in a school where run-down books were old, torn, and almost nonexistent? The roof was falling in. The bus smelt like it had not been cleaned in years. The teachers spend so little time teaching, and there seems to be a revolving door of teachers. This was all in stark contrast to the mostly white suburb of Roseville, despite being one of the poorest suburbs in the area. Just a few miles away in Roseville, our schools were clean and shiny each morning, the teachers would stay for years, and you felt supported and hopeful that life could get better despite the hardships you faced at home. Every child deserves that, regardless of their skin color or what neighborhood they grow up in. I understood the anger directed at me, not as a person, but as a symbol of why these two words exist just miles from each other, across the dividing line between white and black we called 8 Mile Road. I knew after that experience I never wanted anyone to feel how it feels to be harassed and attacked daily for your skin color. Still, I also knew that as a white male in a society built on white male privilege, I had to do something about the root cause of that anger that was misguidedly placed on me. This greatly shaped who I am and the sort of poetry I write.

Thanks – so, what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I did not graduate from a University and am no scholar of the art of poetry or writing. I consider myself a “street poet.” That means that I can not recite Walt Wittman to you and intensely discuss your literary heroes and their various writing styles. I don’t care about those who say poems should not rhyme to be taken seriously or believe I must fill my poetry with colorful metaphors rather than get directly to the point. I do not concern myself with those who cannot see the poetry within hip-hop verses. I do not write to gain recognition or acceptance. I write from worldly observations, from a youth growing up too fast and often incorrectly. I note, though, not just from my observations and experiences but from listening to the observations and experiences of others, many from communities and perspectives outside of my own. I write to express the truths of the streets around me, the beautiful and the ugly. I firmly believe that facing, understanding, reflecting on, and learning from the unpleasant realities around us is how we begin to change them; therefore, acknowledging them gives me hope. That’s what I try to do in my poetry.

Is there any advice you’d like to share with our readers who might just be starting?
#1 GO FOR IT! DO IT! Many times the only difference between you and that person on stage is they are doing it, and you are not. You can. It is in your ability to do it; you are the only one holding you back. To the poets, I say share your words, perform your emotions, and don’t let anyone define what a poet should sound like or how they should write. Don’t let fear or insecurity run your life or hold you back. I have so many years I could have been performing and enjoying it as much as I do now, making the connections to people I now get to enjoy. I missed out on years I could have been doing this. The same goes for those musicians playing for themselves in their room, wishing they dared to perform. You do! You have convinced yourself otherwise; stop that! Just do it. You will thank me after.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: instagram.com/nocturnalthepoet
• Facebook: facebook.com/nocturnalthepoet
• Other: instagram.com/unexpectedcollective, instagram.com/thegrandavepoetryslam 

Image Credits
Portrait photography by Iryna Glavnyk