Ravaged Rage

This is certainly not based on an actual incident but inspired by the unfortunate experience of a friend, someone so lovely and gentle I was enraged by the fact someone could violate her this way. This happens all the time and just because it happens so often, don’t dare become desensitized to what a violation or how traumatizing it truly is.

This piece is super rough and I’m trying to spit out works and worry about editing and perfecting later. I just want to create strong bones in preparation for performance later. In this one I think I waiver between rap and spoken word styles. My own style of performance is evolving and I want to test this synthesis, spoken, to see how well it works.

Ravaged Rage

So what is it about some men who think
they can feel you up if they buy you drinks
I don’t exist to push your dick to the brink
so swollen you can’t even think
you should’ve been makin’ it shrink

because you’re about to commit an offense
for which there is no recompense

So it takes some balls to push her down and pull it out and make her spread ‘em
but it takes more balls to make a pause and stop yourself and just forget it

A low cut top is not an invitation for your circumnavigation
Sip your beer, sit and leer
You haven’t a clue how to fulfill my expectations

You can look but you can’t touch and if you touch I’ll make a fuss but not too much
because I’m just too mild-mannered
I don’t rise quick to anger

You can’t match my gentle demeanor
You’re just too fucking eager
I’m caught off guard
you shove it hard
you don’t mind if you leave me marred
Make it tear
You don’t care
Just watch my cold, dead stare
Because you’re not worth a *single* god damned tear

You son-of-a-bitch I’m not gonna flinch
I’m not gonna blink and I’m not gonna sink
to surface the hurt that fuels your kink
I’m not gonna move to pleasure your prick
The sight of your cock
makes
me
fucking
sick

You can grab me you can slap me you can call me a bitch
You can push me around, but I’m not going down
Just try it
I dare you
You test me
I’ll scare you
Because you don’t know what will make me snap
Don’t think I’m disarmed just because I’m on my back
I may cum with a cunt but it don’t mean I lack
the strength in my legs to break your fucking neck
Just make one false move
I’ve got something to prove
You fuck with my mood
and I’ll do more than brood
You will soon fear my wrath
You better watch your back
you just raped a psychopath.

Existing Gracefully

It’s been approximately two years since I stopped performing my pieces in front of an audience. I got caught up in school; I got caught up in others; I got caught up in a life I do not find pleasing. Now that I feel better than ever, I’ve been wanting to get back into spoken word. Recently a friend linked me to an artist who shares her talent so beautifully that it revived the passion that had lain dormant in me. Through a bit of research I’ve found Dessa (also known as Dessa Darling) is a spoken word artist/rapper/singer/essayist and all around brilliant, sexy piece of ass who was a member of the Minneapolis slam poetry circuit and has been on tour around the US in 2010. I, basically, envy her artistic life.

After several hours of writing and editing and attempting to get this to flow, this is my rough draft. Once I amass a fresh body of work that I feel represents who I am today, I’ll unleash it on whomever is willing to listen:

Existing Gracefully

When I go out
I paint the town red
I remove my doubts
and tear the city to shreds

Because this is how I deal
yes, this is how I heal
yet
you’re in my grasp you hear me gasp you’re nearing death
but I
give you the breath that brings you to life
and yes
you just signed over your life to keeping your neck under my knife

And when you turn around
no, you won’t see me
you’ll see a ghost of me
a hideous visage of the distorted image that you created of me

I know all about your alibis
(and no I don’t keep any spies)
they’re manifested apparitions of the flaws that you’re so desperate to keep hidden
so karma’s a bitch
and every stitch of you
shows every glitch in you
because the moment that broke the spell
was the moment the scales fell
from my eyes I can’t deny that for so long I made up lies
just to make you look better
but I had to learn better
you had me hung from a tether
for so long it was my pleasure
but you grew numb to my sadness
chaos turned into madness
the stress caused my collapse
you didn’t blink or even lapse
from the cycle of dysfunction
that caused so much destruction
of the self and the other
I became like a mother
always gnawing and nagging
over all that was lacking
because I refused to accept
broken promises that should’ve been kept

And now I sit here and think
I was once on the brink
of insanity due to the sanctity that was gone in a blink

But I’m not damaged goods
and I’m quite thankful now
for all that’s been learned
and even all that was burned
I no longer feel spurned
because I no longer yearn
for the upswings that followed the downswings of an unstable soul
a void that could not be filled
someone I couldn’t make whole
so instead I found myself and reclaimed all that was stolen
I’ve experienced rebirth
rejuvenated and reanimated, redeemed and reawakened
detoxed of the poison
from the path I had chosen
no longer coursing my veins
now I’m free of disdain
I no longer feel pain

I will tell you right now
thankfulness yields happiness
so I’m no longer down
and the remedy
for creeping melancholy
is simply being grateful to exist
and existing gracefully.

We need a voice

Could it be Saul Williams’?

To Whom It May Concern:

I’m used to sharing my opinion, but sometimes when it comes to politics, especially in regards to voting, I’m hesitant. This is primarily because my goal has always been to inspire people to think for themselves rather than simply inspire them to think like me. Yet, at the same time I realize the power of example and do my best to be my best whether the spotlight shines or not. I would not plant my faith in any government if I believed that history was entitled to govern the future. What has been was and went. At present, I am slave no more, and my freedom to speak my mind and share it with you is, in itself, an inspiration and a testimony of the beauty of our times. Yet in these times when the creative labor disputes in the film industry, the transformation and disbandment of the music industry, the collapse of our misappropriated economy (while oil profiteers celebrate the biggest year of profit in US corporate history), the ongoing war, the expansion of environmental consciousness, the resurgence of racial hate crimes, and the penalties exacted upon sportsmen who practice brutality off the field, all convene under the heading of NOW, it is essential to draw connections between each spinning record, to note times’ signature, and acknowledge that our world could transform in a drum beat. We are in desperate need of a remix. As a musician and fan of many I have always noted the power of music and art, especially amongst the youth. Before complacency and jadedness take shape, we are alive with dreams and insight into what could become of the world if the old would simply die young and allow new harmony to exist beyond antiquated conceptions of race, nationality, and tradition. We are subject to the world we are born into, without choice nor reverence. The dogma instilled by our social study books and well-meaning parents do little to affirm the truths that we know possible. The future is truly in our hands, yet most feel empty handed and ill-equipped to be the change they wish to see, while others have already been taught to clasp their empty hands in prayer, nod their heads, and surrender their power to the unknown, the angry, the jealous. I do not trust the government, I have no faith in politics. Poetry is president. We are the root of change. Yet, I have even less faith in cynicism. When negative expectations rule our perspective we shift below the radar and become the resin stuck to the tires of the passing tank, whose driver is tired and feels unthanked. He fights for nothing more than rank. We are the root of blame. Cynicism is ammunition pressed against the temple of the imagination daring it to not be. It is an excuse of the unimaginative, a tool of the tool, a weapon of the dreamless and sleep-deprived, it is far, so far, from music. What we need is a song, a melody to inspire the wind to change direction, a hybrid of genre and innovation, something worth the dance. The tar spangled banner that waves low, beneath the surface, is the dancefloor of a generation finding voice to sing. And though every generation has found ways to marry rhythm, none has sampled breakbeat science to distort how freedom rings. History is not King. And the present has offered some promising leaders…For the record, I’m voting for Barack Obama tomorrow. Saul Williams Songkeeper

I’m on Saul Williams’ myspace friend list and he posted that letter as a Bulletin. Anyone who knows me is aware I am often moved by Saul Williams’ works. His recent collaboration with Trent Reznor will hopefully broaden his fanbase. Although I know rhythm and beats are a major focus for Williams’, I hope that his listeners don’t lose themselves in the hard rhythms and heavy beats because his poetry is powerful. I’ve seen how easy it is for individuals to repeat catchy hooks completely unaware of the message it’s sending, whether it’s positive or negative. It’d be a tragedy to have listeners treat his lyrics just like any other beats and hooks they dance to/recite such as “Supersoak dat ho” or “I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie World” glossing over the profound message it’s expressing with a vacuous look in their eyes.

I understand Williams’ letter is about politics, but that’s a subject I’d rather not touch. I registered as a voter last August when I got my driver’s license, but I never got my card in the mail and I haven’t done anything about it. I haven’t done my research and I am not about to vote for a candidate because of how popular he or she is. I also don’t trust myself currently because I am afraid I would vote for someone just because I want to see the first woman or black man sworn in as President. And as badly as I want to see some drastic change in history, having a woman or black man in office doesn’t guarantee real change.

The point of this entry is to put Saul Williams on further display. He is an eloquent writer and a moving speaker who uses his words and rhythms to his benefit. He has a voice that can move the masses. I just hope the message follows suit.

I am so envious of the generation that had Martin Luther King. I desire a great cause to fight for. I want a leader to back. Who will be our next MLK? My vote’s for Saul Williams–no one else has impressed me as much.

(That last link was to Saul Williams’ myspace artist profile.  I recommend Black History Month–particularly 2 minutes into the piece)

And by the way, happy Black History Month