Louder Than A Bomb- DMV High School Poetry Slam Festival
Come party with us Friday!
speak to me
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you can purchase my book of poetry, I Got The Matches, securely online through paypal by clicking on the image below.
What Do You See? Questions from Trayvon Martin to his killer
What do you see when you look at me? You don’t look me in the eyes
So what is it you’re looking for? Am I the kid who beat up your brother in middle school? Am I the one who stole his bike and you couldn’t do anything about it? Do you see vengeance in me? A chance to get back at him? To get over? To “make things right?” Is that why you followed me? Or are you a “teacher?” A righteous educator taking life lessons to the street
with a bully curriculum and a 9mm? Do I look stupid to you? What was your GPA? Do I look like I need to learn a lesson
Hard as steel today? Aren’t we all stupid to you? Aren’t we all carrying guns and breaking laws? Or is that just you? Really, what do you see? What can you see? Can you see my father? Or does my skin preclude me from having great male role models like yourself? I hear you mentor black boys; what have you told them About hoodies and iced tea? What of Jim Crow and self-defense laws? What of segregation and privilege? Have you shown them what streets they cannot walk? What white ladies they cannot talk to Or whistle at In this sundown town? Have you drawn chalk outlines for them To step into for the “safety of the community?” Have you told them how much their hair reminds you of drugs Their noses violence, their lips rape, their skin crime? Have you scared them into forgetting their pride And cowering before you, Massa? Or are they just the exceptions to your black rules? Just the Oprah’s and Obama’s among the 99% of us thugs? Am I all dick and fists to you? All crack and rap and basketball? Am I not a child still? Can you not see my mother in my cheeks? Her joy and laughter and pain and hope Breathing through my lungs? Is she not holy, not sanctified, not deserving? Like your mother? Can you see her grief? Can you touch one tenth of the earthquake Rumbling in her chest every morning she wakes Without me? Can you imagine the almighty strength she wields To prevent herself and my father from finding Sweet relief in the same violence turned around? Can you see how god she is? How god we all are? Even you? I wonder, truly What do you see? What can you see In me Besides bullets?
R.I.P. Adrienne Rich
“Art means nothing if it simply decorates the dinner table of power which holds it hostage.”
- Adrienne Rich
this prolific poet passed away today. we pay our respect, and honor her life and work. learn about her.
Posted in thoughts
GRAND SLAM FINALS
Saturday, Feb. 25th at 8pm at Busboys and Poets 5th & K. RSVP online at http://www.facebook.com/events/136150153168073/
Posted in thoughts
2012 DCYST Semi-Finals @ The National Portrait Gallery
join us Tuesday, Feb. 21, 2012 at 5pm at the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery for the DC Youth Slam Team’s 2012 Semi-Finals
Posted in thoughts
how to make it on the 2012 dc youth slam team
braided and baked
braided and baked like challah
my identity is constantly turning and being read
like torah
different interpretations of the same living thing
and idea an artifact we can study
it is my breath on the bar’chu
calling me up to be
my tongue on tekiah waking up those who sleep
i speak
my purpose
i am
my words my deeds my dreams and my bloodline
swimming in ashkenazi rivers looking for a solid home
drowning in survivor’s guilt and
windsurfing in a poem
i am
only the food i eat literally but
there is much more inside me spiritually
i am
divided
between ancient and fresh
right and left
spirit and flesh
hashem and nefesh
between hip and hop
there is a hyphen
a chai fitting between jewish and white
between erev and night
between misappropriation and my natural right
i lay flat
putting my body on the line like my ancestors did
when it’s time to stand for justice
time to sit-in and protest for fairness
time to speak up and lay down our arms for peace
my identity guides and reminds me that
i cannot cease until all are free
for we were once slaves
now comfy and prosperous in our post-post-modern age
our obligation remains
burning like the eternal flames in our temples
but many in our diasporic tribe bring us terrible shame
it’s simple
know mercy
do justice
be not pharaoh
be not goliath
do not create ghettos
tear down walls
love your neighbors
love!
because we are a people
braided and baking together
constantly turning being read and reinterpreting ourselves
and struggling to not forget where we’re from
struggling ever so hard to tikun olam
our ability to heal the world does not come from violence
it is not born in security threat analysis or
border wall military check points
check again
check your holy books your history and your heart
check yourself
my friend my sister my brother
my identity
our identity
is deeper than skin
so check the weather you will see a change blowing in the wind
on the backs of a diverse new generation
bringing together the right and the left
the spirit and the flesh
hashem and nefesh
ancient and fresh
to build the bridges we need
to save our identity
