What's in Your Poetry (inspired by the Capitol One credit card)

Last night was a great night in poetry. Let's start with the NEO-Soul Lounge, got there late, but a DAMN GOOD Crowd... Some talent is definitely flowing thru... Leena Marie is coming up (I got her on Soldier-watch). Bro Chuck came back from TCU on FIRE.... I missed that dude, he always SPITS TRUTH.. My gurl, Katrina, from London by way of Houston, TX, and Langdon who is visiting from London came thru. They even bumrushed the mic.. Hustle held it down with the music, put some old school on...hell, I even danced a bit. Earlier I was at Ego's, Home of the Austin Slam. LaLove Robinson, Matthew John Connoly and Christopher (FLAWLESS) Lee are on to the Austin Poetry Slam Finals. I was hyped! Lovie pulled a performance out of her A$$, she did a piece entitled "There I Said It", and it gave me chills. After she ripped the "shyt" out of the piece I had to ask her, "Who's your Coach"? Matthew performed the hell out of a piece called CONVERSE... the man is witty and funny as hell. And then... My GORSH!!! Yes, I meant to put the R there... Christopher "FLAWLESS" Lee, who now, occasionally goes by the moniker "Fluke". This MO'FCKR is BADDER then BAD.... I absolutely LOVE HIM AND HIS STYLE.... This Man not only WRITES HIS A$$ OFF, but PERFORMS THE SHYT out of them... He did one of my favorites "Sunflowers", but he has soooooo many that are my favorites... He is unbelievable. I almost cried, right there in the middle of Ego's I felt the pain in his words.. I wish he had a CD... cuz like Mo, Suheir, Taalam, Jive, Karega and Marc... I could listen to him forever. What's remarkable is that the BROTHER can recreate his piece every time... he does what I call re-mixes, switches stanzas, adds introductions, improvises, updates the piece... Matthew John Connoly also does that a lot, and I must add, very well... So just when you think you know the piece and can recite it with them, they f you up, and do it totally different. Not only do I spread love, but I also, speak truths.... Why are some poets still spitting the SAME SHYT that got them into the finals the previous 10 years? Okay, I exaggerate....but you get my point. I brought up Matthew and Chris, because they continue to refine and define their art and words. However, I have watched poets do the same delivery, with the same words and get nearly the same score, with the same "judges" (operative word SAME). At some point don't you think that you, as an artist, underestimate the audience and look to extend your credibility as an artist a little too far? When will your poetry card get revoked, canceled, asked to be renewed, I mean, something... Are you writing? Or are you like William Hung, thriving on that 15 minutes of pilfering from the oblivious and obscure? They're oblivious and obscure cuz they don't know you are saying the same shyt over, and over, and over, and over...., or worse, they don't care, cuz they like you so much they're afraid to tell you the truth. You're a regular, they're regulars, so let's do what regulars do, I'll give you the regular score for your regular poetry, CUZ IT'S THE RULE MAN, I MEAN NORM, MAN. Needless to say, I was a little disappointed, watching poets "take risks" by performing new pieces with very good delivery and score lower then the SAMENESS. It was ALSO VERY DISHEARTENING TO WATCH POETS READ ON PAPER DURING SEMI'S (No offense, but I've seen one person do it CONVINCINGLY and that's Beau Sia)... this is not an OPEN MIC, PEOPLE.. In the end, despite reading off paper, I believe they got it right, unlike 90 miles down the road. We'll see there's still three weeks left, who knows.. Not bitter, just hate the game... But I keep watchin' and participatin'... cuz i will be good at it.
13andtheysaythatshytain'tlucky

Dreams and Poetry

I had a dream (sound familiar?)late Monday night/early Tuesday morning...
I was standing backstage, in the shadow of huge red curtains. I was watching Mo Browne do a dynamic monologue regarding battered women and run away children. She was sitting in a chair center stage, all was dark with the exception of a lone spotlight, which was like the sun shining only for her. As she completed her last line, I walked from the right side of the stage, fellow neo-soldier/mirror sister "Shelle" aka "BuddaFly" came from the left side of the stage, and we spit a group piece. What's freaky is, in my dream she and I ripped the "SHYT" out a piece that has never been written. Even more fcked up was that the "SHYT" was dope... Even freakier fcked was I heard EVERY SINGLE WORD!!! Now, first off, anyone who knows me knows that I am attempting to shy away from group pieces. You get a partner, people get used to hearing it a certain way, and then you can never do the piece again with another soul in life 'cuz people are going to say it was ah'iit, but...... e.g. Harlem Loss without Jai Byrd ('nuff said). Anyway, I walked around all freakin' day without writing it down. Now mind you, this piece woke me up three times, and I was TOO LAZY TO GET UP AND LOOK FOR SOME PAPER AND A PEN TO WRITE IT DOWN... well, actually, I wasn't at home. AT home, I have a pen and a notebook in my nightstand drawer, I was such a fanatic about these things that at one time, I had a mini flashlight, cuz I hate lamps, I digress... To make matters worse, as an afterthought I mentioned it to Michelle at a practice we had for LaLove last night. At that time, I gave her an idea of what the piece was to be, and requested she e-mail it.... I usually have my laptop so I can write it down anywhere, but I finally got HIP-HOP (B-Fran named it)back, so I cannot drive with expensive items in the car.... I have developed a strange interest in older cars... until yesterday, I was driving a 1980 Mercedes SL. But I purchased HIP-HOP as a birthday present for myself... 1984 Volkswagen Rabbit Convertible Wolfsburg Edition. Now what makes this car special is it was the LAST YEAR of Rabbit Production, Volkswagen changed the name the following year (1985) to Cabriolet. It requires a paint job and I digress, Adult A.D.D. Any way, she and I have a started the piece, we'll let you know how it goes. Congratulations to Mo Browne for making the Slam Off finals at Bar 13.... Good Luck to LaLove, Chris Lee (Flawless) and anyone I may have missed for the Austin Slam offs tonight. Also, check out the side links so you can see about my boy KA and the Wild 100s as well as Korim da Youngstar... His moms is pushing him like DOPE and we love him like dopefiends.... Smoke um up Smoke um up... I gotta go rest in the shade of my ELM, I got a long night....
Holla..... 13andtheysaythatshytaintlucky...

It's Raining Here

I am currently recovering from a full days work. I got to work bright and early to review business e-mails, review my schedule and calendar for the day. I was to attend training this morning. The training was entitled positive performance appraisals, which turned out to be more punitive then positive. Usual Kim behavior... I did not check the details of my schedule, nor did I share my schedule with ELM nor did I program it into my phone scheduler... So... I made a bad decision before ever attending the training. I also do not think very well without a personal bold drip toffee misto dry: Starbuck's in case you didn't recognize the formula. So, I'm walking around, aimlessly in the building looking for the training room before it dawned on me... I did notice the cars of my most prompt co-workers. None of them had yet arrived... AND I AM NEVER EARLY TO ANYTHING.... So I made a phone call back to the office.. to find out that I arrived one hour earlier then needed... It was a pretty misty day... The sun peeked thru occasionally, but for the most part it was dreary... Which causes me to think.... none of which was productive or positive for the Great State of Texas (I was still at work)... So I did what some state workers do, I began shuffling papers and reviewing old reports. Most go on break... so I did really well.
I also visited Korim da Youngster, Shihan the Prototype (Korim's recommendation), checked Mo's website, KA's Blog and searched for the results of the youth slam...
Nothing inspiring today..
much love,
13

Assume the Position Poet... Inspired by LaLove Robinson

First off, twice in a couple of days, I have used another poet's work as a means of inspiration... For that I apologize, but at least I give credit.... This evening, we (Neo-Souldiers) were helping my/our "mirror" sister, Love practice for the upcoming semi's for the Austin Slam Team. While rehearsing, I was inspired by one of her newer poems... It was almost as if we HEARD it for the first time... For several reasons a) her delivery was flawless, b) I have been doing a LOT of poetry lately and my style is constantly changing c) I am becoming jaded with the whole "idea of slam", d) I've been listening to A LOT of Poetry CD's, e) a conversation with a damn good poet, who discussed not wanting to be recognized by his "age" just to name a few. Perhaps it was contributed to last weekend's discussion of "street poetry" during AIPF. I realized that I do not wish to be separated from "academia" because I spit with a little flair, confidence and attitude. As I listened to Love spit her piece, I listened to her words... which were witty and, as always, humorously on point. I was then reminded of "our" hesitancy to spit certain poems in "the other venues". Or at least my hesitancy. Last week during a slam, I refused to consider one of my better performance pieces because of the word "ni--er and profanity. I instead chose a "literary" piece in hopes of showing diversity and, embarrassingly enough, intelligence. But all I did was failed to assume the position. That behavior was not consistent with my poetic "attitude"... and if my thinking wasn't funky enough, I made a comment about reading off paper... My poetic mirror brother Langston aka B-Fran, confronted me and called me out on it. I guess, my thinking about slams has gotten so misguided that I was willing to sell myself short, and GASP, prostitute myself for the sake of attempting to win a slam.... Maybe I am JUST a performance poet, who does not slam very well all the time (I have won and placed in them, though). Maybe, I haven't reached my peak as a SLAM artist. I watch others work so hard to become "slam" poets, and they often become angry, bitter, disgusted, feel less then, whatever, about slams... especially when they don't win. I have even watched some poets, as am older wiser poet once told me "get so caught up in the idea of slam that they don't ever allow themselves to properly mature in the art"... (whatever that means)...But in essence I know what it means to me, but notwhat it might mean to others... Don't get me wrong, I love slams, both to watch and perform. And like others, at times, I feel slighted and/or jaded when I go outside my area and get fcked by the audience/judges who chose to vote for hometown favorites regardless of performance or talent.... Hell, a few weeks ago, I experienced one of the most ridiculous outings.... one person walked off the stage in the middle of their performance to get their piece because they forgot THEIR words... another forget their piece, said "fuck" walked backwards away from the mike to take the gum out of their mouth and walked back to the mic to finish their piece (I thought the gum was a prop!!! Yea, right...), (both of which got higher scores then me).. Now the person with the gum is a homegirl and they love her there, so i'm not hating the player... just the mo'frikin game... I've heard worse stories from "BIG NAME POETS" so I feel as if I have been welcomed to the "club"... but, if I had personalized it, I would never write another piece... It's just the nature of the game.... I guess I need to ask the question... Poet, what do you stand for? And search deep inside myself for the answer.... 'cuz I know that it ain't based on no score froma judge at a slam...
13 and they say that shyt ain't lucky...
Sidebar- mirror sister/brother (n) a sibling, not by blood, marriage and/or adoption who mimics and/or models behaviors which assist you in personal growth.

What's In the Crease of Your Smile?

I had a beautiful morning.....I did absolutlely what I wanted to do.... A beautiful awakening, was able to bask in the shadow of my ELM's smile, kept a promise to my "son" and gave him a ride to school... (sidebar: he said 10 words the entire ride, all the while listening to his personl cd player), but the moment that made me the happiest, was the smile he gave me in response to a camera case secret he and I would share.... it was a simple childlike smile, as he said "sure" and closed the car door. He has an old soul.... Came back and slept while mindless television played in the background.... The phone, as always, broke into my dream, like a late-breaking news story... (absoltely useless and had nothing to do with me... in otherwords a telemarketer).. But still, I am doing what I want to do... I get up and have Pepperidge Farm Cookies and Blue Bell Tropical Passion Ice Cream for breakfast..... then HORRORS OF HORRORS, my ABSOLUTE Favorite Drink in the world comes crashing down out of the freezer... Cruzan Mango Flavored Rum and it's glass bottle has splattered and shattered all over the kitchen floor, walls, refrigerator door, and my legs.... I see the kitchen getting drunk without me and again I am horrified....... still, I smile. why you ask? because I am still doing what I want to do... I HAVE A PAID DAY OFF, I opted for today (3 day weekend) instead of yesterday (the actual holiday).. which was almost like being off since no one was really there...... Thank you Great State of Texas and the Battle of San Jacinto... As I am standing there watching the floor become "shyt-faced" I proiritize and decide to treat it like any other drunk.... I step over it and go to the table and eat my ice cream and cookies.... Hey, Blue Bell is 5.99 a 1/2 gallon and Pepperridge Farm Cookies are 2.50.... As I eat it, I think of Mike Guinn, an incredible poet and man, (Slam Master in Fort Worth)...to paraphrase one of his poems... "I want to wake up and smell in the crease of your smile what you had the night before.... me."
Now, I know what he means when he says it.. but this cat has depth and duplicity in his words and range... You learn this when you hear his piece "Moist". And then it all makes sense...
Caric Lee's smile, my smile, my ELM's smile, the clerk's smile this morning at the Exxon, everyone's smile pose as a luggage to carry our love for self and others, and when we frown, basically we are letting love down, letting it fall... think about traveling and your clothes and personal content fall out of your bags... It really sucks...
So today, no matter what I will smile... I even smiled as I poisoned myself with chemicals as I cleaned the Mango flavored Cruzan from the floor......
that unopened bottle had a few memories.... it purchased for a party last week to close out AIPF... The party was great, met a lot of people, shared poetry and love......we drank the Banana flavored with orange juice and grenadine, Mo Browne's chilled cherries served as garnish....and opted to save this one.... the one for me to spill, instead...
I now know the lesson of never crying over spilled Cruzan...
Holla..
13 andtheysayitain'tlucky

Something In The Past (always seems to be)

My Poet in Law Jo teases me about my new toy... My Blog.... She asks if I did any work today... She says she will read, but not create a BLOG... She has alot to say and even more to write, but alas, she is in love....... She and my Poet Brother are probably reading Griffin and Sabine, playing scrabble or something seemingly cute with one another. They are poets in love..... While contemplating ways to take over the world, another thought crossed my mind? Whatever happened to Al Hudson and the (Soul) Partners aka One Way? "Something in the Past" was a great song....... I know, most probably remember Jessie Powell's version, but ole Al outta Detroit, put it down in the original. My soul twin, KA and I often talk about music, old school original versus remake in one take..... We had a lengthy discussion about Strawberry Letter... I wonder what happened to Shuggie Otis? What happened to the music? And why the HELL IS VH1 trying to save it........ It's already dead.....

YOU ARE NOT HIP HOP

My heart weeps in bittersweet beats between pulses and reverberating redlines which flatline at tip of silent solo switch beats in mid tempo backbeats slow ebb and flow to duet which was once you and I, and I break beat, then back slide to full stride in cadence march, spin to twelve inch vinyl, thrity bars, four blue notes, two turntable scratch, riff to improve a scat then spit a piece which was once our love song.......
excerpt from: you are not hip hop

My current state is Utter, Confusion. I cannot figure this love thing out. I can typically morph and mold to the ideal partner..... primairly because I listen. And two, because I learned everything I needed to know about (unhealthy/healthy) relationships from my Dad. That is his legacy to me, my torture, or is it the other way around?
.... I thought I loved hip hop. But we, like my current partner and I, have a loving bond, but poor lines of communication. Kind of like Sprint PCS, I digress, I was talking to a friend a while back and I wanted GOD (good orderly direction/goodness overcomes dysfunction) to bring me a good lover (I got) and some good music (questionable). I get John Legend, new Jill Scott, new Kem, new Vivian Greene, but later comes Trick Daddy, Ceelo Green and Ludda..... Sugar (Gimme Some).... Yippie, Yippie Yum Yum, .... Ying Yang Twins.....Wait and Thrillville Some Cut aka the "Mattress Song".... All of which have great beats and I can dance to them.... 'cept I don't dance. I thought I heard it all, UNTIL my "son" CT (caric lee, a very handsome quick witted 13 year old) plays "Ugly Ass Friend" to the tune of Lovers and Friends, Usher. I have a sense of humor, ya know... I even have an ugly ass friend.... or GASP, I maybe someone's ugly ass friend.... but must we "show our ass" on the radio. I mean my favorite poets get little, if any airplay, and we got these fools talking 'bout an ugly friend" on the airway, nonetheless.... I guess, hip hop, like love, you gotta take the good with the bad, and sometimnes when it's bad, really bad, you gotta find something to laugh about......
gotta go, my ugly ass friend is calling me.....
13

Three Thirty Six and I Ain't Got a Poem In Me

I pine for the richness of your thickness
and crave the delicacy of your sweetness..
Oshun, how can I get to know you?

At Amaya's over lunch.... I spent a couple of hours with a wonderful lunch companion, not the best Mexican Food (I ate it though), but do I love brown eyes that smile when they talk.... and the conversation and view, as always breathtaking......

I am feeling a bit sluggish and I have officially left the building. Well, not actually, physically here, mental I am in Mykonos Greece. I am proud of myself another productive day. I have successfully appeared "as if" thru out my work day. I have completed the baseline, never quite hit the benchmark of any assignment given to me by my employer. And the worst part is..... IAINTGOTAPOEMINME..... I attempted to finish one I've been working on for a couple of weeks. BUt err ruh.....
I did get to wish Mo Browne a HAPPY BIRTHDAY via lunch time phone chat.... the sister's back in Brooklyn holding it down.......
Also got an e-mail from Amanda Johnston, a poet who won the anthology award at this past weekend's AIPF.. visit her at www.amandajohnston.com. Also I returned to find that my man Funky Mike Whalen http://BigSleep666.blogspot.com/ and http://www.livejournal.com/users/bigsleep666/ but in a few words for me over at his sites... Check out www.austinslam.com Mike is only one of the imfamous AUSTIN poets who own slams across the STATE... He is hilarious.... My favorite is about a clerk at video store....
anyways.... I'm otta here.... check out the sites and the peeps....
13.... and they say it ain't lucky...

I Didn't Wish To Leave Those Loving Arms

an excerpt from: The Beauty of Harlem
kimberley d taylor (knowtorious13)

I taste your kisses in the breeze
and smell you in my dreams
I savor your essence on my palate
you a fine wine,
intoxicating.
may I sip your spirit?
as I know no other way to show my love,
my unyielding adoration toward you.
every glance a photograph
last time, I and you
one moment immortalized upon my soul
I see you in love
I see you, love.
My fingertips trace faded silhouettes
which once captured you
my arms caress the waning imprint
of what was once you
heart heavy as I miss,
and long for Harlem's loss
my eyes will forever drink her beauty
she burned in my memory for eternity
arresting the motion of undulated grace
my admiration
an original, one of a kind
every glance a picture perfect photograph
last time, I and you..

The city.....
I liken love to the borough and beauty of Harlem, Manhattan, New York, USA..... Historical, rich in heritage, beautifully tragic..... (poetically speaking)
Anyway, one of the last times I was there, I didn't want to frickin leave. Like a long distance lover's last embrace, you know there is much love between you, but you have that eerie feeling it will be the last time.... So you stand there, holding each other, together, yet separate in thought and emotion. You make a mental note of the last words, smell, touch, a picture perfect photograph of the last time....
I am listening to Darkie, by Mo Browne right about now..... I mixed some poetry, Jill Scott, Donnie (Welcome to the Colored Section), Brooklyn Funk Essentials (HOT ASS ACID JAZZ LIKE BEATS... WHOEVER THESE PEOPLE ARE I WANT TO MEET THEM), Meshelle Ndegeocello, and Nas on the media player. My co-worker in the pod next to me is PROBABLY TRIPPIN'... 'cuz 1) I got it turned up a bit (I act as if I'm hard of hearing, especially when I haven't had my Starbucks ..... grande bold drip tofee nut misto dry), 2) Twain's piece about writing poetry on the job is on!!! (he's a young cat outta Fort Worth, from the school of Taalam Acey, but he's not a biter.... Hopefully he will be repin' one of the slam team's out of the metro-plex.. very fluid and like%

PERSONAL POETRY CD LISTENING PARTY

Currently, I am about to take my upteenth break from editing some documents and completing a close out on an audit. NEEDLESSTOSAYIMATWORK... Today is my personal poetry cd listening party, I listened to Mo Browne and Jive Poetic earlier during the day. I am listening to Taalam Acey's "Pieces of Change" Disc 2.. Aura No. 2: Withdrawal is currently playing. It's a pretty hot track. I was definitely feeling Disc 1, particularity "Depth Poetry" and "Heat". I got to check him out, along with Mo Browne and Jive Poetic over the weekend at the Austin International Poetry Festival. Actually, I was able to share the stage with these fine poets.... my pencil, to their pen. In other words, I did well, ... but I'm learning to hold my own. Mo as beautifully descriptive as ever, her piece about the brother's walk is beautifully well written... and live, you almost don't recognize it.... on the cd it has beats, which is hot, but to hear it live is absolutely spell bounding.... ...... Jive, plays with words like Jordan plays basketball. That brother is the epitome of wordsmith..... Taalam is all over the place with his.... I mean he's ripping some poet's and their art apart.... but as always the brother is on point. Damn...... "Picture This" is a must hear. Not because I am familiar and or know these poets am I biased. This is some of the best shyt I've heard in a minute..... 'cept, I did pick up a copy of QwaZim "3 Days and Waiting" by my man Marc Marcel's, this is his new effort, a few weeks ago... (a must have) and Korrega (Houston, TX) who 1) not only produced one of the cuts on Mahogany's last cd, which was recently receiving mad air play on DR Ghetto Skum (windows media radio) a few months back.... but 2) is also one of the hottest poets/producers of spoken word right now. I got mad love for the spoken word artists that are putting it down.... I know on digital cable they play a bit of spoken word on Sunday mornings..... I wonder what would happen if they replaced one poet for every 5 whack-ass singers or rappers, what would happen? You'd have radio that people would actually want to hear. Remember people Ceelo Green did poetry over beats before Goodie Mob and Trick Daddy..............

Harlem to Brooklyn

metaphorically her laugh lines cease
where crows steps creep
at crease of dreams that lie within
the fold of her lips.
and she whispers
a poem which leaks between heartbeats
of my bleeding heartaches
as our words connect at fading heart lines..
we hold hands and I spit the piece of eternal peace
that was once she
and she breathes her life back into me.

Mo....
a segment of a piece written for the tribe of women who reared this village idiot. Thanks for the continued support and sisterhood. I remember last year's lessons, and my Sister, I sincerely hope that I have made you proud. I don't wish to walk in your footprints, only follow the strength in your steps, and forge my own path. Thanks for being one of the many lights, maps, pit stops and watering holes along the way. You continue to inspire. Texas is your third coast home, know where ever there is a NEO-soldier, you have a refrigerator in which to chill your cherries, a ride to the nearest Starbucks, and place to rest your head.... But no one, but me, will raise enough HELL to make sure you get a decent meal.....
kimberley d taylor (knowtorious13)

and no, I'm not from Harlem (in this lifetime).