Say What?? New Spoken Word Site!!

Ah Google. It's pretty darn awesome what you can find by simply typing "spoken word" into your search engine :) This week, I discovered Poetryspeaks.com. This one stop shop let's you check out poet bios, videos, and order mp3s of poets reading their work!!

The site's search capability lets you find what you need by searching the poet's name or the name of the piece. If you create your own account (which I did, pronto!!), you can customize your page, show love to your fav poets, and post why you think poetry rocks, as part of their "Why Poetry" project.

An all around awesome place to explore!

Discover new poems and old favorites on PS·Voices.
Experience slam and spoken word poetry on SpokenWord.
Want an audience for your poetry? Upload now to YourMic.

Slow Dance Music

Loving the rhythm and flow of this poem. It's like eavesdropping on a conversation between friends. It's like taking a glimpse into the mind of a stranger. It is at once intimate and intrusive, arresting and free. Loving it!

Thanks to Not that Anyone Deserves Anything for sharing.

Slow Dance Music
BY Tom C. Hunley

I can't explain the rain's attraction to my head,
though I'm touched by its will to touch me,
and I don't understand how I got here any more
than a lobster understands how it ended up in a tank
next to a Please wait to be seated sign,
but both of us can read the faces of the cruelly beautiful
women pointing at us.

I always feel eyes on me so
I apologize to insects after I kill them
and to the salmon on my plate, caught being
nostalgic for home. Everything makes sense if
you squint just right, and at least once a day
I realize that whatever I've been saying
isn't the point at all.

Like yesterday, I heard myself
say "Nostalgia" comes from Greek roots meaning
"painful return," which is why your childhood
home is paved over, a bump in the commuter
path of your old classmates, the ones who have
never gone anywhere.

And so instead of leaning
in for a kiss, I give my beautiful wife the umpire's
signal for "safe." And when I say "I love you"
she becomes red-faced, hits me with the back
of her fists, and calls the cops,
because those words no longer mean what they once did.

Television is a Drug

My oh my! I generally watch very little tv...not because I'm one of those bourgeois intellectuals who pretends not to like it. No. I honestly don't have the time. My extracurriculars keep me more than occupied. If I'm lucky, I'll catch a quick clip of American Idol or Bridezilla, but those times are few and far between.

After watching "Television," though, I think I'm better off without it. Sheesh!! you have to watch the video below to understand what I mean. This visual interpretation of Todd Alcott's poem is positively brilliant!

Thanks to Brad for getting me hip to this great vid.

enjoy!

Television is a drug. from Beth Fulton on Vimeo.

Essence Magazine's 40 Favorite Poets

To celebrate Essence Magazine's 40th Anniversary, they've posted a list of their favorite Black poetesses. It's a pretty fabulous list filled lots of heavy hitters of the word-space - Phillis Wheatley, Audre Lorde, Elizabeth Alexander, Maya Angelou, Lucille Clifton...the list goes on an on. My favorite part is that they included little snippets of the most famous pieces of each poet. I've included the ones I absolutely adored below. Of course they are love poems...you know me all too well:-)

Enjoy! Check out the full list here.


Did This Happen To Your Mother? Did Your Sister Throw Up A Lot?
BY Alice Walker

“I thought love would adapt itself to my needs.
But needs grow too fast;
they come up like weeds.
Through cracks in the conversation.
Through silences in the dark.”


Loving Again
BY Gloria Wade-Gayles

“Last night
we loved as if the gods
had announced only to us
that they sky would fall
while we slept."

I ::HEART:: Africa AND #Work/Life Crossover

I'm very corporate. As much as I deny it, my 9-5 seeps into my normal life on the daily. So, in proper corporate drone fashion, I have decided to write a "recap" of our African Poets Week:-)

Its been a bit of a challenge to find new and interesting poems to share with you all, but it's been a fantastic adventure. I've learned so much about the diversity of African poetry and have fallen even more in love with my beloved Motherland. It's been real, but like all good things, this must come to an end. Maybe this can become an annual project?? We'll see. Anyway...thanks so much for humoring me on this trip through the famous and obscure poetry of Momma Africa:-) I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have!

In case you missed these awesome works, here are the highlights. If you read something you like, be sure to pass it on. Poetry is meant to be shared.

Day 1
Nigerian Poet Bassey Ikpi
Sometimes silence is the loudest kind of noise

Like sometimes it was best when
Girls were girls and boys were boys.
Like back when freeze tag was a mating dance.
Like back when "Do Over" meant you got another chance.
Like back when anxiety was worrying if Wonder Woman would make it out alive.
Like back when freedom was sliding backwards on a slide.

Day 2
Cameroonean and Senegalese Poet David Diop
Africa

Africa, tell me Africa
Is this your back that is bent
This back that breaks under the weight of humiliation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying no to the whip under the midday sun.

Day 3
Nigerian Poet Chinua Achebe
knowing robs us

knowing robs us of wonder.
Had it not ripped apart
the fearful robes of primordial Night
to steal the force that crafted horns
on doghead and sowed insurrection
overnight in the homely beak
of a hen; had reason not given us
assurance that day will daily break
and the sun's array return to disarm
night's fantastic figurations--

Day 4
South African Poet Ewok
That's Joberg

a call to all colors like spiritual acrylics
paints a picture of possibility
for all the world watchers to see
to see how forgiveness arouses a peoples pride

Day 5
From a Movie about Africa:-)
Invictus by William Ernest Henley

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

Day 6
Sudanese Poet Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi
Dream

Poetry - may you be a green body.
May you be a language
in which I wander
with my wings and my self.

Day 7
Ghanaian Poet Kofi Anyidoho
My Song

Some had some splendid things
What was mine?
I sing. They laugh.
Still I sell My Song
for those with ears to buy
My cloth is torn, I know
But I shall learn to wear it well

The Pen Truly is Mightier - Amnesty Global Write-a-thon

So, I have to make a plug for one of my fav human rights associations ever - Amnesty International. I first got hip to this great organization in the den of liberal thought and social deviance otherwise known as undergrad, and have been hooked ever since:-) Amnesty is organizing a Global Write-a-thon to raise awareness of human rights violations and pressure governments to release imprisoned human rights defenders across the globe. I've already signed up to write a few letters and you should too. The campaign starts tomorrow and runs through the 13th. Lots of time to write lots of letters to (passively) fight the powers that be.

Still not convinced? Check out what Amnesty has to say about the campaign below. "The pen truly is mightier than the sword!!"

Why Get Involved?
This global action marking International Human Rights Day on December 10 brings people together just about anywhere – in classrooms, churches, workplaces, homes, and more – to make a difference in the lives of prisoners of conscience, human rights defenders, victims of torture and other individuals at risk.

Using the proven power of writing letters, they will pressure authorities to release those who have been unjustly imprisoned and to stop the torture and abuse of others.

The pen truly is mightier than the sword. Millions of Amnesty International members around the world have taken up the pen to bring freedom and hope to prisoners of conscience, human rights defenders, victims of torture and other individuals at risk since 1961. They've acted on the words of imprisoned Nobel Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who asked the world: "Please use your freedom to promote ours."

You can promote freedom and human rights by joining Amnesty International's annual Global Write-a-thon, a worldwide action marking International Human Rights Day on December 10. People around the world will gather in classrooms, churches, workplaces and homes to take action on behalf of prisoners of conscience, human rights defenders, victims of torture and other individuals at risk. Using the proven power of the pen, they will pressure authorities to release those who have been unjustly imprisoned and to stop the torture and abuse of others.
How to Get Involved:

It's easy! Follow these simple steps:
1. Sign up today! Then SPREAD the word and encourage your friends and family to register for the Write-a-thon by texting or emailing them the registration link: www.amnestyusa.org/writeathon Bookmark and Share
2. Get your resources in early November: Learn how to hold a successful write-a-thon and download case summaries, sample letters and other promotional materials for your event. If you would like hard copies of these items, please feel free to email us at writeathon@aiusa.org
3. WRITE and MAIL your letters from December 5-13!
(Feel free to start earlier than that and go through December.)
4. REPORT back to us letting us know how many letters you sent. Do this by filling out the on-line evaluation form or sending us an email at org@writeathon.aiusa.

Promoting human rights is serious business, but it can also be fun. Make the Global Write-a-thon a part of your holiday celebrations this year and show your support for human rights.

Can you Really Adopt a Poet? You Betchya!!

If you're like me, your love affair with the written word has probably made you do some nutty things...from going back to your on again off again poet boyfriend to driving for hours in a thunderstorm to catch your favorite spoken word artist spit for just one night. So, what better way to support your addiction than by "adopting a poet!??!?! Technically, the money doesn't go to the poets (most of these cats have been chilling with their maker for years and years), but it does help with the upkeep of the Poets.org website. And, while the techies that are in charge of the upkeep are probably not "struggling artists," in the purest form of the word, they are helping to keep the written word alive in this digital word and personify everything that the Evolution of Paper means to me.

I've included a bit more info below. Check out the site here

Why?
Based on the popular "Adopt-a-Highway" programs that provide for the care and maintenance of our nation's roads, the Academy of American Poets has created an "Adopt-a-Poet" program to support the care and maintenance of this website.

By giving a special gift to adopt one of the poets on Poets.org, you can help us make critically needed upgrades and improvements to the site—and help us make sure that, in the coming year and beyond, we can continue to offer students, teachers, poetry enthusiasts and all Americans the most educational, entertaining, and comprehensive poetry resource available anywhere.

To adopt one of the poets on Poets.org, simply give a contribution of $30 or more and let us know which poet you want to adopt. Or, if it's possible for you to send a larger gift, you can adopt two poets for a contribution of $50, three for a gift of $70, or five poets if your contribution is in the amount of $100 or more.

Book Clubs for the Homeless

It is my firm conviction that literature can actually free us! It can open our eyes to worlds we've never known, open our hearts to the heartbreaks and joys of others, and open our minds to the possibilities that lie ahead. For this small group of homeless adults in Boston, the book club they have formed has allowed them to find a sense of normalcy in their unpredictable lives.

“It’s five people in a book group, not 5,000 people fed, but it’s five people I can pull aside and talk to,’’ said Tibbetts - the group's founder. Indeed Tibbetts. Five people...whose lives will be forever changed by the ability to expand their minds. As you can tell, I'm loving this:-) and I was so so happy to find out that similar book clubs for the homeless are cropping up all over the country. There's even one here in Cincinnati through Ink Tank.

Read more about the Boston club below -

The word is their bond
From a rare friendship, a book club for the homeless is born

By Jenna Russell, Boston Globe Staff Write

At the crest of Beacon Hill in a well-appointed room, the Tuesday morning book club is tearing a novel apart.

The critique, on this warm early summer day, is merciless, and as it heats up, the meeting crackles with complaints. There should have been more clues to help the reader unravel the mystery, Donnie insists. Ned, between bites of a glazed doughnut, dismisses a main character as unbelievable. Rob is irked by the same character’s inconsistencies.

“For someone who knows everything about her son, she doesn’t know a damn thing,’’ Rob says, his voice dark with disappointment.

The men drinking coffee at the round wooden table are dressed casually in sweat shirts, jeans, and sneakers. Some of their faces are lined beyond their years. But as they deftly flip through paperbacks assessing literary merit, there is no sign their lives are anything but normal.

For two lively hours every Tuesday morning, in a church meeting room with old oil portraits, they are book club members first and homeless people second.

The story of the book club, now in its 10th month, is a tale of ordinary city life upended. It began with a stunningly unlikely friendship, between two men from different worlds: Peter Resnik, a high-powered lawyer on his way to work, and Rob, a homeless man guarding a friend’s shopping cart on Boston Common. Through months of daily conversations, that began with jokes and sports talk and gradually delved deeper, they found a common interest: literature. And when they saw the bridge that they had built, they recognized its potential for others.

In a short time, they say, the book club has proved its power to reach homeless people and build their confidence. Emboldened by its success, Ron Tibbetts, a Beacon Hill church deacon and longtime homeless outreach worker, has launched plans to replicate it. His new nonprofit group, the Oasis Coalition, aims to establish dozens of small social groups citywide, filling the gaps left by large, institutional programs that offer the homeless food and shelter but little or no personal connection.

“It’s five people in a book group, not 5,000 people fed, but it’s five people I can pull aside and talk to,’’ Tibbetts said.

Do You Know - Lynn Procope?

If you don't know, now you know:-)

Lynne Procope hails from Trinidad and Tobago and is a full-time poet/ teaching artist living in New York. In over 10 years on the poetry scene, she has made quite a name for herself! In addition to being one of the founders of the New York City louderARTS Project,Lynn was also a member of the Nuyorican Poetry Slam team that went on to win the 1998 National Poetry Slam Championship in Austin, TX.

Her work is influenced by her experiences as a woman and often speaks to the trials of marginalized populations. She is an awesome performer, but her real strength is in her writing. Every line is packed with so much depth that you often have to re-read/ rewind to catch the full meaning. An absolute lyrical master, Lynn is pretty much the defintitin of a deep sister. Some of her most famous works include "Elemental Woman", "Flectere" and "Evidence of Injury".

check her out in this interview -


watch her slam!

On Second Thought
By Lynn Procope
"Black girls in short shorts and last summer’s high heeled shell toes
Blacker than we were last year or a month ago because finally, finally the sun
Black girls in head wraps the season we discovered Africa on Fulton st
Black girls in low, low rise jeans the year our city burned
And all we could do was hold each other’s hands
Laugh with our mouths wide open
Loud enough so each of us could hear the other’s tears
Smothering in the backs of our throats
Pointing to where the towers used to be to
Trying to see through the plumes of soot
Black girls who move to New York
To slay their mother’s perfect church dresses
To raise the ante on their mother’s stole ward hips
To forget the way their fathers came home
To make good on promises to all those old, old black ladies at the family reunion
To play god with their own lives, for a change"

Meet - The Word THUG!!

If you haven't heard of this lyrical master, then you havent really lived. (yes, I'm very fond of hyperbole, but this is the gospel truth!) Anis Mojgani is a spoken word artist, musician, and visual artist that continues to surprise, inspire, and impress me every time I see him. I was going to write this totally kick-A profile on the new love of my life:-) - but, looks like Ananda Osel of CommonLine E-Mag beat me to the punch.

Why re-invent the wheel?! Check out this great interview below.

Interview by Ananda Osel
Common-Line E-MAgazine

We’ve all been urged to say something, to speak something dynamic into existence. To spit raw emotion from deep within our chests and off the tip of our tongues. We’ve all been impelled by this natural and ardent force… only to find that perhaps at that moment in time and space, the words were not with us. We lacked distinct articulation and rhythm of wit over diction. Later we find ourselves replaying that moment again and again in our minds.

Anis Mojgani is a spoken word superhero. His poems bleed pure energy into anyone who cares enough to open up and listen. Anis’ poems manifest the distinct articulation and raw emotions we’ve all wished we had at one time or another.

While listening to Mojgani’s poems I could not help but be moved- and to relate. That’s what grabs you about Anis’ work. He’s puts your emotions into his words, making them horrific and beautiful all at once. Whether from his powerful poem Shake the Dust, to the electric Rock Out, or the melancholy lyrics of Cradle, Anis grabs hold of your guts and gently earthquakes you to attention.

Anis is the current (2007) World Cup Poetry Slam Champion and the
2005 & 2006 National Poetry Slam Individual Champion (a back-to-back honor shared only by fellow artist Buddy Wakefield). He is also the 2006 Seattle Grand Slam Champion. Anis has been featured on HBO's Def Poetry Jam, National Public Radio’s ‘The Beat’, and in the documentary 'Slam Planet: War of the Words'. You can also find his work in Spoken Word Revolution Redux and in the literary journal ‘Rattle’. And all of this is for very good reason.

--------
Ananda Osel: What sets your work apart from other slam poets?

Anis Mojgani: I don’t know. I really try not to compare myself to other poet’s work. There are a lot of poets out there that are coming from a similar place that I am, so in that regards there are slam poets out there that I can’t set myself apart from. I know its semantics, but if a poet doesn’t have semantics what does he have? I do think that if one goes to a slam that I’m competing in, some things that may seem different between myself and several other performers is that I try not to perform. I simply share a poem that I’ve written and open myself up to be allowed the same affect that hopefully it will have an audience member. I concentrate heavily on the written text and the image and respect the audience enough not to pander to them. I understand that no one’s going to get all that I’m saying, not even if they were reading it, so I try not to dumb in down cuz that doesn’t respect the craft nor does it elevate the audience.

Osel: What influences does your writing and performing draw from?

Mojgani: Influences aren’t currently in the bag, as I think that young artists have influences, older artists have inspiration. Of course that’s not a blanket statement, but at least for me these days that’s how it is.

Influences in my path: Jeffrey McDaniel, Richard Brautigan, Bukowski, Gregory Corso, Kerouac, MF Doom, Aesop rock, Robert Rauschenberg, Basquiat, Chris Ware, Frank Miller, Saul Williams, Whitman, Savannah, GA, New York, New Orleans, being broke, being a hermit, shoot the piano player, the Baha’i writings and history. Inspiration though is a more frequent occurrence, and comes from a variety of sources; other poets, art, comics, novels, movies, observing people, our country and the affect it has on its citizens. Flowers. Donuts. Moths. The moon. A good cheeseburger.

Osel: How much of your work comes from direct experience and how much comes from observation?

Mojgani: It’s a mixture. I try to keep myself open to observing people, trying to get a better understanding of how we as people act and react to certain situations. I think that the better understanding one has of human psychology, the more successful one’s art can be at communicating its intent. I try to take what I learn from observing and apply it to my own experiences, cuz when it comes down to it that’s the only person that I can know the most about.

More

Anis Orders you to ROCK the F- Out ::Heart::

ROCK OUT!

You have been given a direct order to rock the fuck out. Rock out like you were just given the last rock and roll album on earth and the minutes are counting down to flames. Rock out like you just won both showcase showdowns. Rock out like the streets are empty except for you, your bicycle and your headphones. Rock out like your lips, which are placed onto a breakdancing muse with legs that go all the way up. Rock out like you’ll never have to open a textbook again. Rock out like you get paid to disturb the peace. Rock out like music is all that you got. Rock out like you’re standing on a rooftop and the city’s as loud and glowing as a river below you. Rock out like the plane is going down, there are 120 people on board, and 121 parachutes. Rock out like the streets and the books are all on fire and the only way it can be extinguished is by doin’ the electric slide. Rock out like it’s Saturday afternoon and Monday is a national holiday.



Rock out like somebody’s got a barrel pointed at your temple saying ‘Rock out like your life depended on it, fool,‘ because it does. Rock out like your eyes are fading but you still got your ears. But you don’t know for how long so rock out like 5 o’clock time, make pop-in-lot time. Rock out like you got pants full of tokens and nothing to do but everything. Rock out like you are the international ski-ball champion of the entire universe. Rock out like you just escaped an evil orphanage to join a Russian circus. Rock out like your hero is fallen and you are spinning your limbs until they burst into a burning fire of remembrance. Rock out like you’re enslaved in the south and dancing is all that you have to know who you are. Rock out like your dead grandfather just came back to take a drive with you in your new car. Rock out like the table is full. Rock out like the neighbors are away. Rock out like the walls won’t fall but, dammit, you’re going to die trying to make them. Rock out like the stereo’s volume knob is the figure 8 of infinity instead of merely numbers. Rock out like it’s raining outside and you’ve got a girl to run through it with:-). Rock out like you’re playing football! Football in the mud and your washing machine is not broken. Rock out like you throwing your window open on your honeymoon because you want the whole world to know what love is. Rock out like you just got a book published. Rock out like you just went to your high school reunion to find everyone, even the women, are all overweight and bald, except for the former homecoming queen, who you just found out, got divorced from her impotent husband and only has eyes for.. YOU! Rock out like you just got a date with Heidi Klum. Rock out like a shadow man passes behind you, drops you to your knees. You’re buckling in sweat, cold metal’s pushed to your forhead, the trigger’s pulled and the gun jams. Rock out like you got an empty appointment book, and a full tank of gas. Rock out like Jimi has returned carrying brand new guitar strings. Rock out like the mangos are in season. Rock out like the record player won’t skip. Rock out like this was the last weekend, like these were the last words, like you don’t ever want to forget how.

-Anis Mojgani

Stuff I Like: Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

This oscillates between the tender and the comical with a sense of energy and poise that can only come from Cristin. My favorite line, by far, has to be -

"It was always just mom and me
a stack of books
and NPR coming through the radio
like the voice of God"

This line speaks to me so strongly because this story could very well have been mine. Yes. the NPR line:-) But also the close relationship between mother and daughter. This poem is for mothers everywhere who have put their dreams on the back burner to lend their arms and wombs to their children and for women who take their roles as caretakers very, very seriously.

Enjoy!

Mother

Rachel McKibbens Blogs!!

If you're a Rachel McKibbens fan like, me, you'll be overjoyed to know that she is a fellow blogger...holla! I first heard of her on IndieFeed and was so happy when I stumbled across her blog this morning. If you haven't heard about this bad a$$ poetess, well, now's the time to get hip to it!

She was kind enough to include the text of this poem in a recent blogpost. Way to read my mind Rachel!!

"A mama forgets what her weapons can do.
Can't know which of her failures
will be what does it."

Besides being an all around rockin' chica, Rachel also recently took home the title spot in the 2009 Women of the World Poetry Slam (WOWps). She is (was?) the slam master of the New York City LouderArts Project - a not-for-profit arts corporation committed to developing constructive and challenging spaces for artists to create, critique, present, and teach poetry. Rachel also apparently "collects butcher knives in her spare time:-)" You can thank Mongo for that last bit of trivia.

Check out her blog .

First Week of a Breakup

"The first week of a break up is like the first time guys have sex
it's awkward
and boring
and we keep telling ourselves that we're doing it right."

LMAO!! never heard of this cat before, but this is so good and so interesting. Starts off almost too funny to be deep, but ends very tenderly and true. Enjoy!

The Result of Googling...

I recently found this poem, while googling "African Poetry." Most of it was...ok...but this one especially caught my attention. It kind of has the tone of the poem I recently posted, so of course I had to snag it. I have a soft spot in my heart for children and the craziness that they endure at the hands of irresponsible adults. This poem speaks of the sad violation of a young child...without being too explicit.

no author, but still very good. what do you thing?

MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTER

I watched you roll
Roll from one side of the bed
To the other, and still
The clock chimes once.

I watch you sit and hum
Hum unintelligible tones
As mountains of tobacco
Disappear into your nostrils.

I watch your eyes
Fill with jerking tears
And your ears positioned
Intermittently to earth's pillars
Trying to place distant voices.

I try to cage my curiosity
But your crawling hands tap my chest
Papa, must I play this midnight encounter
To see the god's piercing eyes
And partake in this ancestral dialogue.

Introducing the ZaatarDiva

Like most of my favs, I was turned on to the Palestinian-American poet/activist Suheir Hammad by HBO's Def Poetry Jam. It wasn't until I had the honor of seeing her spit live at a Palentininan students poetry night at my college, though, that I truly fell in love.

When you first see Suheir, the thing that gets you are her eyes. They're simultaneously soothing and arresting. Of course, she's absolutely gorgeous (which makes the words that come out of her mouth all the more surprising) but don't be misled. This is one deep chica. She delivers every word with a sincerity that is deliberate and purposeful.

Suheir understands life in paradox- Her writing hearkens back to her immigrant roots while illustrating her Brooklyn NYC life with hip hop fury. She extends that same complexity to the tales of others she constructs. With the eloquence of an expert weaver, she peppers tough topics (war, rape, love, heartache) with a fiery tenderness that is often lost in the modern spoken word movement.

In case you can't tell, I'm a fan:-) I think hers was actually the first poetry CD that I bought.

Among her many, many accolades, Suheir also currently holds the third place spot on The Poetry Foundation's list of Best Selling Books from Small Press (ZaatarDiva by Suheir Hammad - Cypher Books). She's been in the game a long time and has managed to still stay on top.

I've included a few of her better known works below. Enjoy:-)

Mike Check



What I Will

"I will not dance to your war drum
I will not lend my soul nor my bones to your war drum
I will not dance to your beating
I know that beating is lifeless
I know that skin you are hitting
it was alive once
hunted
stolen
stretched
I will not dance to your war drum"

Famous Poetry? Oh No-etry:-)

Nothing reminds me of childhood more that Where the Sidewalk Ends. Awesome!

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Stuff I Like: More Hidary!!

This was the first that I ever heard from her...and I fell in love. It starts off with the quickness and continues with very witty lines, but despite the comedy, she hits the nail on the head of a universal truth about first loves. It's so easy to get 100% wrapped up in love...(infatuation??) and lose yourself in the pursuit of someone to hold you...whoa...deepness. I should write a poem about that. Anyway...nothing this chica does ever disappoints, so check it out.

"By now, I could have had a PhD in philosophy
internal medicine
middle eastern studies
stem cell research.
But no.
I have a PhD in him.
Funny how he brings me no income.
No pension.
No future..."

lol

enjoy!

ps...she has a cd...If you love me...my birthday's just a few (9 to be exact) months away:-)

Stuff I Like: Vanessa Hidary's Hebrew Mamita

"The Hebrew Mamita" Vanessa Hidary

For anyone who has ever, ever, EVER been "the other" - this is the absolute truth!

"What does Jewish look like to you
Should I fiddle on a roof for you?
Should i humor you with oy veys and refuse to pay?"

Def Jam Poetry - Georgia Me "For Your Protection"

Check out this hott poetress

tonight at the MIXX

Live band KICKS OFF THE NIGHT @ 9:00-10pm
Poetry STARTS @ 10pm-12am



ps...the video below is is pg13...at least. enjoy!