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The Making of a Female Rapper

27 Sep

The Making of a Female Rapper
Began five years ago
On a chilly Boston evening
With smarts and Monroe sex appeal

She always had many men trying to tap into her
Most of the charmers were rappers
Over and over again they would call
Wanting a special moment in time with her

The most notorious of them all
Caused the deepest fall
He was a true Lord of the underground

She needed him to promote her words
Trouble is, her poems
Presented evidence of his misogyny and drug addictions
She couldn’t even get him on the phone
He reviewed two hundred and fifty songs a year
But left righteous rugrats to fend for their own

Used to grabbing at dome from groupies
Her mind, was much harder for him to caress
With words of wisdom born in her embr”Yo”
Her infinite power, sprawled out from under her dress
Knocking his Ego right off its tower
Her speaking of truth, was for him
A situation of duress, compulsion and force
For her, it was simply the Vishuddha cleaning itself
He looked in the mirror
Saw his own shadow in one of her poems
And disappeared leaving her all alone

This is the catch 22 of a female rapper
Her chapter isn’t yet written
Hip Hop’s ladder, wasn’t built for her to climb

Thus, she became smitten
With dreams of paving her own way
So she tricked him with a nickname
He gobbled it up, as if, it was his own fame
By exchanging the letters of her given name
Her poetry began to grow inside his mind

Like a Queen in chess, restricted in some movements
She couldn’t jump over others
But all along, she knew she was the most powerful piece
And he was such an adorable student

The making of a female rapper
Is the story of a sexy witty woman
Naming herself Ratty
She entered her letters into famous chambers
By simply, creeping on the most gullible member

Ratty is Heaven sent
She knows the cross she has to bare
So players, beware
The Hip Hop game has changed

The women of planet Earth
When neglected – Will Rebel
By casting a Spell
Of letters… -R.A.T.T.Y

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Teaching Critical Thought

17 Sep

Amiss standardized tests
Teacher evaluations
Corporate intrusions for profit
Public systems built to dumb down
If I can teach one child
How to think
My career will be a success

Slavery is born in the mind
It stems from lack of knowledge
We need to teach our children
How to teach themselves
The most important human freedom
Is the ability to choose how to think
Safeguarding this human freedom
Is our goal as educators
We protect it and nourish it
Against all the slime constantly thrown at it

We constantly push to remind students
It is just a thought
You can change your thoughts
And your thoughts belong to no other than – you
If you can do that
You see yourself as the creator
Then you’re on the path to self awareness
That truly puts you above

There are only two choices
Love or Fear
But, you must first love yourself
Before you can love the others
It is simple
And really difficult at the same time

Either way you go,
Love’s gonna get you in the end

Justice

15 Aug

She really only needed one
It is so much simpler to believe
Once another considers you
Latches on to your thoughts
Sees you and simply understands

They told her writing would never pay the bills
You are white, you can’t be Hip Hop
Stop trying to have rhythm because you don’t have it
Your radical views are just the illusions of a dreamer
Those who wander end up lost

Self doubt paid the greatest cost
But then there was one who caught a glimpse of her
And her perception shifted
Making it easier to stay focused on the page
It is amazing how all it takes is one
Then the others follow

Thoughts are seeds
Drop them and they grow
Be careful what you sow
It might stay with you until you’re old

Yes, there was just one
A revolutionary black man
Who simply stood up and took a look
That was all it took
Just one to say…
I think you can

And she thought to herself
Perhaps, all the others were wrong?
Then, she put it down in her song
Because she wanted to say –
Thank you

Image

To Teach Cheer-Leading or Poetry?

6 Jul

To Teach Cheer-Leading or Poetry?

A week ago
Not many know…
They cancelled my Slam Poetry class
Said rapping and writing these kids would surely not last

They asked – Why don’t you teach cheer-leading?

Sure, let me just dust off –
My Pom Poms

Why Don’t You …
Throw a knife in my back and let it bleed
I respect the gymnastics that cheerleaders do – indeed
That stuff isn’t for those of an easy breed
But with my students – their minds I wanna feed
Give em a reason to be a real thought leader
Not just a football fan greeter

Cheer leading is a perfect sport for this fascist nation
All about image and leaves little room for imagination
No space for the heart’s real fascinations

Need a cheer leading coach?
Recruit a Romney campaign broach
Those jerks
Are all out of work

I want something raw and real
Scribbled on the back of a dirty notebook – cuz it’s a better deal

Students face troubles in school and at home
Feeling all alone, they moan and groan
Tired of being ruled like this is Ancient Rome
Need a space to express their emotion
And you know, they can find it in a poem

Show them – There’s a light within
And it’s the King Pin
Lead them away from, never ending sin

Sometimes I sit and reminisce
Inner city students created the best
With few assists
They took it right off the block
Put it in a tinsel town sparkly box
Today you hear it in the ears of those who work the desks at Goldman Sachs

The youth not knowing their own oppression is heart crushing
American history is perpetuated to them as pure boredom
So they don’t know all the people who got hurt fighting for freedom

Youngsters need to know real music, real art is about empowerment of the people
Who will teach them to push society’s boundaries?
Certainly not the men on the right wing steeple

12 years old, awkward girl, learned to raise her voice
Found out it was better than owning a Rolls Royce
A Worcester teen who used to chill with Lyndsey and Ryan Joyce
Passed up on being a ballerina
To write in a diary named Piccolina
Kept learning till she hit middle age –
Found out her mind broke the god damn bird cage

Look – I know I’m no Maya Angelou
But I also know
The truth will always emerge on it’s own, like morning dew

I know what community spoken word came from
I’m not a dumb dumb
But truth is – it’s not about black versus white
When one falls in the flames, smoke masks all of our sight
I’d rather be together
And reign in the full party’s delight

WHY WOULD I TEACH SLAM POETRY?!?!

Because, our babies need to know how to defeat oppression
Not sure if cheer leading gonna help with that

Yesterday’s Writing

19 Jun

As a child
I had hopes, dreams and pixie dust
Writing was a must
So much fun running through my mind
Creating characters to last for all time
Sketchbook built for writing and drawing
The pen just took over the page
It was an escape
No need to compare notes with publishers
When your passing them under your seventh grade desk
Uniforms, friendship bracelets and pool parties
Thoughts and hearts valued
My art, my ability to create
A foundation they can’t shake
Letters on a page
Symbols forming my story
Excitement of sharing with a best friend
Who you know really cares
There is no good nor bad
Your story – It just is
Taking pride in standing by one another to the end
A bucket full of notes in my closet
Hidden treasures of crushes, plans and secrets
We built a foundation
From which all else came
Struck back to the heart of us
Running through the reservoir
Never wanting more
We were free
I will always be a writer
My heart have mercy on my need to eat
Shield me from the fame
And the need for strangers to know my name
Hopes, dreams and pixie dust
In myself I still trust
For I remember when it was just us
Me, a sparkly pen
And my very best friends

Why I Did It

17 May

What propels a woman out of her Wall Street job
To teach poetry to an angry mob
Of middle schoolers?

Well, for starters
Wall Street –
Is for people haters

But what’s more –
I know what it feels like.

I remember my Dad’s anger
My mom’s lack of self confidence
And, my sister leaving me behind
There was so few to whom I could confide

I always had a pen
And a notebook for every now and then
When I needed a very best friend

I know what it feels like
To open “Pandora’s box”
Out pops problems stored up for years
Multiple tears and too many fears
Plus, “Birthday wishes of you”
That never came true

I know what it feels like
“To lose your biggest dream”
The heart rips at its’ own seems
Wondering why, you didn’t make the team?

I know what it feels like
To not be “Momma’s favorite”
It makes me weak in the knees
My sister leaving – is all she can see
Loss of one child
Leaves grief
And the one left behind, isn’t appreciated

I know what it feels like
To make mistakes
And Erase
To make mistakes
And Erase

I know what it feels like
To get dumped
My hair wasn’t preety, cuz it wasn’t curly
The freshmen girls were cuter
And he said –
“If you study in England – I’m out”
Too bad, I wasted a year
While he was fighting in Iraq
I let no others come near

I know what it feels like
To know you are in “deep Do Do”
Cuz you “have to change”
But people got you feeling kinda strange

I know what it feels like
To be Forgotten
Misunderstood
Left Behind
Mistreated
And Simply –
To be “The Unknown girl”

I know what it feels like
When “Life is –
Drama and Violence
Word. Un Huh.”

I know what it feels like
When “It’s 80 minutes
To one class”
And, the students are always on us

I know what it feels like
“To break through
After all the struggles
And Blossom!”

I know what it feels like
To be “limitless”
And fearless

Thus, I taught you how
To share your voices
For I knew what it felt like
To see – You are Boston’s future

So Please,
No matter what you feel like –
Stay Loud.

Quotes from Slam Control Fever Poetry Team

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