Saturday, November 21, 2009

Tripping!

Went down to Philly to hang with my crew last night...
Scored some pretty cool shots with my tiny Nikon Coolpix cam..
My dad is currently having some separation issues when it comes to his Nikon so I try not to steal it as much.. :)

Christmas decor already?

What people call graffiti, I call street art...

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Amazing Grace...

I wrote this to audition for a show... I submitted it 5hrs after the deadline, lol
I luv how I had no inspiration or material till after the deadline....
However, I was asked to compete in a Poetry Slam, which I had to decline to do because I'm not ready to compete yet...

So I sing the first line, and then recite the rest of the stanza ..
Enjoy

Amazing grace:

Wasn’t something she knew in the hood where she grew up,

Grace was a bright kid who just wanted to sing,

But the industry never saw her,

And if they did they didn’t recognize her,

So when things got hard she turned to the pole,

It was only temporary,

Till she became mesmerized by the money,

And seduced by life in the fast lane,

In a hurry to make that cash,

Come up fast,

But the pole stripped her of her virginity,

And abandoned her with no dignity,

So she said yes when he offered to pay for sex,

Then got upset when he asked why she was still there the next day,

She tried to make conversation but he didn’t care what she had to say,

He just wanted her out of the way before his wife came home,

It was then she realized that when he bought her body, her mind too had been sold,

All of the a sudden the room became cold,

But even with her clothes on she still felt naked,

The only comfort she had was her song that no one else would ever hear,

And…

How sweet the sound:

Of the screams the first time he hit her,

Tears stained her face and blood stained the carpet,

Only trying to explain that she hadn’t been cheating,

But he didn’t believe a word she was saying,

Truth was, he didn’t believe the accusations he was making,

She was just his release for his frustration,

He was her excuse for prostitution,

Trying to save enough to run away,

“One last time, one more day” she’d tell herself,

Until a day turned to a month, and a month to a year,

Until the system led her here,

To this 31 by 10 jail cell she called home,

The one bedroom flat she didn’t even own,

Who would save her broken heart, and her lost soul.

That saved a wretch like me:

She’d stopped hoping for salvation,

She knew she was damned to hell when she started enjoying her occupation,

But who could blame her,

When asked what she did she called herself a performer,

On the stage no one cared who you were when they longingly stared,

Up there she commanded respect,

Her body moved so fluid, but her heart was rock solid,

Because in six inch heels,

No one cares how she feels,

But when the music stopped, the metal was ice to her skin,

She remembered the prison she was in,

And felt the heavy weight of her sin.

I once was lost:

In a multitude of problems,

And alone in the midst of a million people,

Only a hundred in church that day,

They sang together harmoniously,

In one voice of many broken hearts,

Each one acting out the part that life had given them,

Grace was tired of her role,

Tired of her pole,

She had picked the shorter straw but,

She wouldn’t live this life anymore,

As they listened to the sermon, she planned her suicide,

Would she do it in the open or would she hide,

To her death meant being alive so,

Maybe she’d find life on the other side.

But now I’m found:

Wrists slit in her closet,

A stained piece of paper with two words on it,

“I’m sorry”

Not sorry that she took her life,

But that it took so long to end the strife,

Sorry for her friends who were still in the business,

Who would wake up tomorrow and do it all again,

Sorry that no one else would apologize for their pain,

But I’m sorry that she thought she was taking one life and instead took two,

The baby girl growing inside her she never knew,

Who’s to say if she had known she wouldn’t still have done it,

To save the little girl from a life of injustice,

People called her a coward but I know it took courage,

To put a sharp blade to her vein,

And watch it drain her dry.

Was blind but now I see:

That you’re still not aware of what you don’t know,

To you this is a story,

And to the government a statistic,

But to me, it’s reality,

I saw Grace on the corner of Broadway last night,

And on my train this morning,

You see my heart is mourning the loss of a voice that was never heard,

Lyrics that were never read,

Words that were never said,

Beauty that was never admired,

A life she never desired,

A reality that should inspire you to stop, and think,

But five minutes after you hear this, you’ll forget it,

You’ll walk out into street and meet grace,

But you won’t recognize her, as she’s stares longingly into your face.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

The Perils of the Working Class..

Lol, ok maybe the title of this blog is a bit dramatic...

I love working, however... I have been disconnected from the rest of the world since I started waking up ridiculously early every day of the week...

Thus explaining why I haven't blogged in a minute {or 200}...

But, have no fear, a new poem is here.. or will be.. tomorrow.. unfailingly :)

xoxo {maybe I should cut back on the Gossip Girl episodes}