First Poetry Lounge of 2010

I love going to poetry spots because I always walk away with inspiration. To quote Natalie, "Thank God for the space to be ourselves." So as I listened to poems a lot of quotes caught my ear and other inspired some of my own. Sorry I didn't accurately get the author of all of them. Hope they touch you the way they touched me:

"The only way I'll get played...is if I get played"

"Most poets are too distracted to be attractive"

"I crochet my soul so I can reap what I sew"

"Let your inner peace be seen outward" - Def Sound

"Your bed smells like the last thing I was really good at" - Rudy Francisco

"I'm no better than my father, I just know better than my father"

"You write legibal, God writes mine, he's the inc to my credible"

"The only thing harder than being hurt is falling for someone who's been hurt one too many times."

I dare you to fear.

Imagine the Bible is just a book
And the stories are morals touring time

Things rhyme because they share a root
Complicated by connotation
Relations revoked by ships

You hear love poems
Recited by lovely poets and wonder who could possibly be beautifully brilliant enough to hold their sacred attention and yet still hideously stupid enough to hurt them

You recently realized how rarely you are yourself
That explains why you look cuter everytime I see you

"Stop living your life as a long suicide note fronting as an autobiography"

We are so desperate for love that we take pain and make it positive
Like turning life into poems
Into prophecies.

Make A Statement

As you may now, I'm a HUGE advocate for West Coast Artists (non-mainstream especially) so when on of my favorite groups (and dear friends) Fly Guys put out a new music video for one of my favorite songs "Make A Statement", my first instinct was to blog about it (sorry that the right side is cut off. go here to watch it in full size and HD) :

My favorite line: "They say stay with the current but the current makes me sea sick" Anyone can be trendy, can you be a trendsetter? These guys are.

"Where ya zazz at?" Get the NEW After The Zazz Album HERE and Follow @FlyGuys

Now that I'm a "Female Rapper"...

Nicki Minaj + Lola Monroe + Vixen Ent. + CeCe

Please speak up if I offend you. Please speak up if you agree. "Speak your mind, Free your soul"

Tattooed PlayHouse EDITS

The little girl in me still plays house
Never stopped stuffing
Pretending to be pregnant
But now
Instead of pillows under my shirt
It’s penises under my skin
Boys behind my ribs because I have to let him in if I expect him to hold my heart
Despite what people claim to see in my eyes
Barcodes etched into my thighs show him just how much I think I’m worth

I hide the epic poem of my life behind fairytale book covers
Cinderella slippin my way between the soiled covers of a borrowed lover
I pretend to be illiterate
Not to read too deep into his silences
Not to read fast enough to see “wifey” sending him text messages
We both see monogamy as sentences
But where I see articulation
Structured expression
Shared understanding and talented construction
He sees punishment
Being locked up against his will
Though when he’s out he doesn’t get off the block anyway
I guess the adrenaline rush of a quick nut beats 3 hots and a cot any day
Apparently I’m too maternal for guys my age to appreciate

But he is like a masterpiece of acid tear marks covered by ink
His tattoos whisper volumes of poetry
His stories make murals on his skin
Begging me to dive in and learn their purpose
Because there is more to men than mistakes
And there is more to art than aesthetics

I am juxtaposed prose in a poet’s position
The irony of hoping to find Mr. Right by pretending to be accepting of all types of wrong
Every love song is a slap in the face that no one loves me that way
So I still play house
Looking for a man looking to be loved
And finding only boys looking to be fucked
Savages
Looking for a hunt
With the marks of a soldier but the heart of a civilian
His tattoos were beautiful but only skin deep
The only meaning seeming to be pleas for attention from everyone except apparently
Me
Hieroglyphic hopes to not be forgotten hand painted on his temple

A girl once burned down the chapel of his heart
So he became hard headed and thick skinned
With warning signs spray painted from needled cans saturating his surface
“Do Not Enter!” scream the pinup girls on his ribs because that’s really how he feels about the gift God made of him
Barbed wire on his biceps so I would not be tempted to lay in his arms
A lion on his left pectoral in case I dare go near his heart
Lips traced on his collar to assure me my kiss was nothing he didn’t already have
Countless stars so everyone knows he believes he is above them

He is like a flower
Plucked and placed on the kitchen table to be admired
It was being beautiful that brought him so much pain
I am sorry
But I am playing house
And isn’t that what grown ups do?
Decorate their home with priceless works of art that they won because at some auction they were willing to give more than everyone else
Something like how in relationships I'm willing to give more than myself
So I’ve stopped looking for a partner to write love poems about
And will settle for a prized possession to display in my play house

New Poem (UNEDITED!)

EXCLUSIVE
(I know its really long, but it's cuz I haven't had a chance to edit it yet...thoughts are much appreciated)
Tattooed PlayHouse

The little girl in me still plays house
Never stopped stuffing
Pretending to be pregnant
But now
Instead of pillows under my shirt
It’s penises under my skin
Boys behind my ribs because I have to let him in if I expect him to hold my heart
Despite what people claim to see in my eyes
Barcodes etched into my thighs show him just how much I think I’m worth

I hide the epic poem of my life behind fairytale book covers
Cinderella slippin my way between the soiled covers of a borrowed lover
He looks me over
Pegs me as an unclaimed lamb
Butters me up for the slaughter
Never checked for my marks
Never bothered to listen to my scars
Thought he was the only one with permanent expressions on his epidermis

I pretend to be more shallow than I am
Not to read too deep into his silences
Not to read fast enough to see “wifey” sending him text messages
We both see relationships as sentences
But where I see articulation
Structured expression
Shared understanding and talented construction
He sees punishment
Being locked up against his will
Though when he’s out he doesn’t get off the block anyway
I guess the adrenaline rush of a quick nut beats 3 hots and a cot any day
Apparently I’m too maternal for guys my age to appreciate

But he is like a masterpiece of acid tear marks covered by ink
His tattoos whisper volumes of poetry
His stories make murals on his skin
Begging me to dive in and learn their purpose
Because there is more to men than mistakes
And there is more to art than aesthetics

I am juxtaposed prose in a poet’s position
An angel on a Saint’s mission
City-switchin
To-Do list wishin
I am a genius of oxymorons
Staring at the make-up
Looking for the balance between putting more on
And wiping away the lies
I’m not going to find Mr. Right by pretending to be accepting of all types of wrong
Every love song is a slap in the face that no one loves me that way
So I still play house
I’m the mommy and the daddy and the nanny
Looking for a man looking ro be loved
And finding only boys looking to be fucked
Savages
Looking for a hunt
With the marks of a soldier but the heart of a civilian
His tattoos were beautiful but only skin deep
The only meaning seeming to be pleas for attention from everyone except apparently
Me
Hieroglyphic hopes to not be forgotten hand painted on his temple

A girl once burned down the chapel of his heart
So he became hard headed and thick skinned
With warning signs spray painted from needled cans saturating his surface
“Do Not Enter!” scream the pinup girls on his ribs because that’s really how he feels about the gift God made of him
Barbed wire on his biceps so I would not be tempted to lay in his arms
A lion on his left pectoral in case I dare go near his heart
Lips traced on his collar to assure me my kiss was nothing he didn’t already have
Countless stars so everyone knows he believes he is above them

He is like a flower
Plucked and placed on the kitchen table to be admired
It was being beautiful that killed him
I am sorry
But I am playing house
And isn’t that what grown ups do?
Decorate their home with priceless works of art that they won because at some auction they were willing to give more than everyone else
Something like I give more than myself
So I’ve stopped looking for a partner
And will settle for a prized possession to display in my play house

FILM REVIEW: Precious

WARNING! This is not an obese (no pun intended), plot focussed review.

Precious was NOT the typical Hollywood movie which is refreshing, but the focus on the emotional shock value depleted the ability to relate to the story line. Except in the generic sense that "sometimes bad stuff happens to good people and then right when it starts to look like its getting better it gets worse" there is very little that the average person can identify with. In fact it seems as if a message that "you shouldn't complain because it could be worse" is the main goal of this movie. The problem with comparing struggles is that everybody is a different level of strong. What could ruin the life of one person could be completely trivial to another. It is all based on the individual interpretation of the person experiencing the struggle. My dad used to tell me: "I am upset, not by events, but rather by the way I view them." (someone else said that before my dad, but I don't know who...) There is no one way to judge the pain of a situation, it all depends on the perspective of the person experiencing it. That being said....you should go see the movie for yourself....bring a tissue and a hand to hold.

Rihanna Rated R

I give it (drum roll pleeeeaaase)
5 OUT OF 5 STARS!!!!!

I've never been a huge Rihanna fan, but I've never been a hater against her like so many seem to be inclined to do, but this album definitely caught me off guard with how much I enjoyed it. As a poet I think the fact that 80% (disclaimer: not an actual percentage, just a rough estimate) of the songs are extended metaphors (i.e. Cold Case Love, Fire Bomb, Russian Roulette....ok those might be the only ones) and 100% (an actual percentage, not just an estimate) of the songs are conceptual. There is a clear theme to every song and every line supports the chorus which could be considered the thesis.

The beats are tantalizing, border line entrancing. Comparable to Trey Songz's Anticipation album, the instrumentals have a lot of depth to them and Rihanna's exotic accent only accentuates (ironic, right) them.

I don't agree with or relate to everything she says on the album (she definitely exposes herself as a whole other level of crazy) but I can understand where she's coming from and THAT is the mark of a good artist: How well they can express they're insanity-eh I mean, artisticness to normal people.

Well that's my opinion. Go find out for yourself! (I had to take the link down because THE MAN caught me lol)

Oh and uuhhh....HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY!!! :)