It's been a while, so the site deserves a little update.
I've been going to Fort Worth's dedicated poetry spot, The Embargo, faithfully for the last six months. I read 90% of the time I'm there and I've even slammed a few times. The atmosphere is so welcoming and inviting that there's no problem with going up and performing.
At the beginning of this month, I traveled to Madison, WI for the National Poetry Slam Finals to support my girlfriend and Fort Worth Slams. I met so many talented and friendly poets there. The experience was great and helped to cultivate my work.
I performed in the two solo slams, advancing to the second round in both but failing to qualify for the second round. I chop that up to me not having a huge repertoire of diverse poems that I'm confident in just yet.
Now that I'm back, I've started several pieces, but haven't finished nearly as many as I would have liked. Hopefully I can do that soon and well.
My goal now is to make the Fort Worth Slam Team, and I will do it.
On campus, I'm also starting a poetry group so we can have weekly open mics there and hopefully bring in local and national spoken word poets for features.
Just so you know, the poems that were posted in August were after I got back from nationals.
8/28/08
8/22/08
Give Me Back Those Minutes
It sickens me to talk to you but
Here I am cause
You need to hear a true American story
About a beautiful girl who lost parts of herself in that sandbox you tricked thousands into playing in
She loves Double Stuf Oreos and gentle kisses on her 3rd eyelids
Spontaneous giggly moments and making love
And not necessarily in that order
And me
She's the epitome to my crescendo
But every once in a while we hear a sour note that sounds too much reveille
Arlington Texas ain't Baghdad Iraq
But she still flinches when cars alarm a little too long
Look I know you didn't do it on purpose
But since you like to play God
I need you to reach into your bag and give me back those minutes
When poetic imagery and unfinished buildings butterfly effect her back to 2003
And she can't speak
Her eyes swirl sand like hourglass
And I'm dealing with Pfc. Brown - not Bee
Hopeless cause my kisses can't stop her tremble
I can't spit a love poem loud enough to drown out the mortar bombs
My embrace isn't tight enough to squeeze life back in the battle buddies she watched die
Yea, she made it back from Iraq
But pieces of her subconscience still ended up in body bags
I want you
To erase all the awkwardness I feel because while she was fighting off sargeants and insurgents
I was smoking weed and drinking cheap vodka
Show me the pieces I will never see
Because she can't bear to put her lips together and tell me
George
I know you didn't do it on purpose
But whatever's going on over there ain't bringing our soldier back fully intact
There's some instructions your orders definitely lacked
So for you I order this
That every bowl of Alphabets you eat spells out IED, PTSD, FAKE WMD
That you hear spirits whispering cadence in your dreams
And one day
A grieving relative who's loved one got reduced to a number, or a phrase, or a vegetable
Carves death into your chest before repositioning that ignorant grin you proudly wear between your jugulars
Because that's how much I love her
That's how much we love them
And every moment spent trying to suture close 600 mile wide wounds is a lesson in futility
We don't wanna feel like this
Like nerds fighting off bullies with math problems
Like mothers wanting to kiss away ouchies with no lips
Give us back those minutes
They just add to the seven years you wasted in a winless war
And maybe then we can get some closure
We
Us
The soldiers
The families
The lovers
The friends
And I
Can have my beautiful girl
All to myself
Here I am cause
You need to hear a true American story
About a beautiful girl who lost parts of herself in that sandbox you tricked thousands into playing in
She loves Double Stuf Oreos and gentle kisses on her 3rd eyelids
Spontaneous giggly moments and making love
And not necessarily in that order
And me
She's the epitome to my crescendo
But every once in a while we hear a sour note that sounds too much reveille
Arlington Texas ain't Baghdad Iraq
But she still flinches when cars alarm a little too long
Look I know you didn't do it on purpose
But since you like to play God
I need you to reach into your bag and give me back those minutes
When poetic imagery and unfinished buildings butterfly effect her back to 2003
And she can't speak
Her eyes swirl sand like hourglass
And I'm dealing with Pfc. Brown - not Bee
Hopeless cause my kisses can't stop her tremble
I can't spit a love poem loud enough to drown out the mortar bombs
My embrace isn't tight enough to squeeze life back in the battle buddies she watched die
Yea, she made it back from Iraq
But pieces of her subconscience still ended up in body bags
I want you
To erase all the awkwardness I feel because while she was fighting off sargeants and insurgents
I was smoking weed and drinking cheap vodka
Show me the pieces I will never see
Because she can't bear to put her lips together and tell me
George
I know you didn't do it on purpose
But whatever's going on over there ain't bringing our soldier back fully intact
There's some instructions your orders definitely lacked
So for you I order this
That every bowl of Alphabets you eat spells out IED, PTSD, FAKE WMD
That you hear spirits whispering cadence in your dreams
And one day
A grieving relative who's loved one got reduced to a number, or a phrase, or a vegetable
Carves death into your chest before repositioning that ignorant grin you proudly wear between your jugulars
Because that's how much I love her
That's how much we love them
And every moment spent trying to suture close 600 mile wide wounds is a lesson in futility
We don't wanna feel like this
Like nerds fighting off bullies with math problems
Like mothers wanting to kiss away ouchies with no lips
Give us back those minutes
They just add to the seven years you wasted in a winless war
And maybe then we can get some closure
We
Us
The soldiers
The families
The lovers
The friends
And I
Can have my beautiful girl
All to myself
8/20/08
Starry-less Nights
City lights block my answers
Longing for the time solutions could be found in constellations
I resort to searching the dripped dried paint of my bedroom ceiling for comfort
The main light fixture my moon, smoke detector my polaris
But the white stucco only yields animals and clowns
As futile as watching clouds in an afternoon sky, hoping you and
A friend can guess what the next marshmallow will make
I don't like playing games cause
"When in doubt pick C" doesn't always work for me
I need some kind of certainty
Dependent on man made creations, no longer turning to God's eyes
Much rather listen to man's thoughts
With light pollution swallowing our dreams whole
Maybe that's why they say country life is easy
All the answers show themselves at night and under the stars solice can be found
But the hustle and bustle of suburbia serves as its own answer key
Little kids count the artificial stars of helicopters and airplanes
Never learning to look to the heavens when times get rough
Cause all they can see is darkness
And they can just look forward, backward, left right and down
if they want to see that
Singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, how I wonder WHERE you are?
Kids dreaming astronomical dreams turned unrealistic fantasies
of flying comets and shooting stars
Unrealistic cause "Who shoots stars?"
When cars are easier targets
Mama said I can't see the forest for the trees
But if all my evergreens look like lamp posts, what does that mean?
A starry-less night for a hopeless people
Didn't study for this test and can't peek up for clues
City lights block my answers
And I'm pretty sure
They block yours too
Longing for the time solutions could be found in constellations
I resort to searching the dripped dried paint of my bedroom ceiling for comfort
The main light fixture my moon, smoke detector my polaris
But the white stucco only yields animals and clowns
As futile as watching clouds in an afternoon sky, hoping you and
A friend can guess what the next marshmallow will make
I don't like playing games cause
"When in doubt pick C" doesn't always work for me
I need some kind of certainty
Dependent on man made creations, no longer turning to God's eyes
Much rather listen to man's thoughts
With light pollution swallowing our dreams whole
Maybe that's why they say country life is easy
All the answers show themselves at night and under the stars solice can be found
But the hustle and bustle of suburbia serves as its own answer key
Little kids count the artificial stars of helicopters and airplanes
Never learning to look to the heavens when times get rough
Cause all they can see is darkness
And they can just look forward, backward, left right and down
if they want to see that
Singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, how I wonder WHERE you are?
Kids dreaming astronomical dreams turned unrealistic fantasies
of flying comets and shooting stars
Unrealistic cause "Who shoots stars?"
When cars are easier targets
Mama said I can't see the forest for the trees
But if all my evergreens look like lamp posts, what does that mean?
A starry-less night for a hopeless people
Didn't study for this test and can't peek up for clues
City lights block my answers
And I'm pretty sure
They block yours too
To me, she's perfect
I never believed in perfection
No matter what
Trying to erect while picket fences around apartment complexes
Didn't look right
So I gave up my dream of mounted Prince Charmings
Until her
When we met this soldier kept nothing private
Proudly showing her flaws and battle scars
Thinking it'd scare me away
Her hands calloused form too tightly gripping her trust
Bruised tailbones from one too many kicks from life to her butt
Her last left her so tired that at night
She screams out restless energy in the form of mumbled words
She constantly spits poetry when she gets tired of tasting rejection, abuse and misuse
But to me, she's perfect
She's what I asked for
Her imperfections are like masterpieces
And sometimes she has the audacity to say
She's trying to get skinny for me
A honeybee
On the defensive after beekeeper after beekeeper
Kept pimpin' her for her honey
Trappin' her inside the hive never to be free
I don't usually deal in the permanent
But she makes me wanna write my emotions in ink and
tattoo her name on my intentions and my skin
As long as she loves me
I'll reinforce my cocoon to metamorphize me because
I wanna be an insect too
Not the same species - bees and butterflyz
And my wings may not flap as fast as yours
But I promise I'll work to keep up
Because to me, you're perfect
And you can't leave
Your kisses taste too much like eternal bliss
and I love the stickiness of your honey-coated touch
I never believed in perfection
Until I let love slap and snap me back to reality
Change my perception because
Perfection is in the eye of the beholder
No matter what
Trying to erect while picket fences around apartment complexes
Didn't look right
So I gave up my dream of mounted Prince Charmings
Until her
When we met this soldier kept nothing private
Proudly showing her flaws and battle scars
Thinking it'd scare me away
Her hands calloused form too tightly gripping her trust
Bruised tailbones from one too many kicks from life to her butt
Her last left her so tired that at night
She screams out restless energy in the form of mumbled words
She constantly spits poetry when she gets tired of tasting rejection, abuse and misuse
But to me, she's perfect
She's what I asked for
Her imperfections are like masterpieces
And sometimes she has the audacity to say
She's trying to get skinny for me
A honeybee
On the defensive after beekeeper after beekeeper
Kept pimpin' her for her honey
Trappin' her inside the hive never to be free
I don't usually deal in the permanent
But she makes me wanna write my emotions in ink and
tattoo her name on my intentions and my skin
As long as she loves me
I'll reinforce my cocoon to metamorphize me because
I wanna be an insect too
Not the same species - bees and butterflyz
And my wings may not flap as fast as yours
But I promise I'll work to keep up
Because to me, you're perfect
And you can't leave
Your kisses taste too much like eternal bliss
and I love the stickiness of your honey-coated touch
I never believed in perfection
Until I let love slap and snap me back to reality
Change my perception because
Perfection is in the eye of the beholder
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