Virtual Spoken Word Showcase

I participated in a Virtual Spoken Word Showcase sponsored by APOOO Books and Urban Echoes Entertainment and now it's time to vote---->APOOO<-----click there

I am in the last 3 minutes of the show, but feel free to listen to entire show. There was a lot of talent on the internet waves that night.


It Calls Me

It calls me--
Y'all don't understand, I said
it calls me,
from the back of that part of the brain that determines my sanity,
handing me illusion after illusion of
misproported distortion it calls
with legs parted like shallow waves,
days of unwashed crevices left by an unsanitary hooker.
Should I listen?
Its message unclear, its intent misunderstood--
Could this vision lack reason?
See, the mechanics of the situation make me panic like a fiend
Scheming to get that next high, I
prowl like mary jane
penetrating manure, an illegal nigga garden.
It's starting to whisper in my ear more often.
It's starting to make my decisions for me, poorly perpetrating my character,
dominating, scared of the possibility that I might contradict its demands,
And- I- Am
TOTALLY influenced by its nuisance.
WE ARE ONE
It led me to that alley where I blessed my pipe with holy sewer water, washed in my peers’ blood,
but sanctified,
no one cried when my spirit betrayed me,
when I existed as whole, yet stole on demand,
took food out my own kids’ hands, slept with man after man and pranced around like not a damn thing was wrong.
Its instruction turned to psalm,
Biblical hymnals, pew splinters in my ass,
fire at my heels ‘cause I'm going straight to hell.
Might as well hit another lick--
I'm not tired of this shit.
I'm gone lie and steal, take what in me was killed.
Fuck a Jesus, I'm the resurrected,
that nigga temptress the grief in Momma's heart, causing conflict in her psyche.
It's me,
easily identifiable, I'm liable to reek all kinds of havoc.
My paradigm is crime waves and dope sprees,
extracurricular sex and green leaves.
Please Leave Me Alone,
I did this shit on my own.
Now the mental separation that’s penetrating my being is beating me,
it's beating me
it's being me!

by Genesis

This poem is dear to me as it was initially written and performed for a group of chemically dependent women whom I'd encountered while on an internship at a chemical treatment facility. I owe all inspiration to them.


Special thanks to Yasmin Coleman and Marcus Harris for having a wonderful show!

Again, click APOOO below to vote (for Darnetta a.k.a. Genesis) and please feel free to pass along the word! You can copy the link in your browser and paste it into an email OR you can use the email feature provided by Blogger.

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