If you’ll remember, a few weeks back Damon and I had went to speak at Harvard. You probably remember because I wrote about it. Well, before that trip happened I happened to mention the possibility of this trip to a really good friend of mine who happens to live in Boston. I’ve known this young woman for, I believe, 10 years now and she’s one of the few people who will unequivocally tell me about myself. Hell, sometimes I specifically call her to ask her to tell me about myself. I appreciate her for that. Well this woman that I know who lives in Boston who tells me about myself whether I ask or not also happens to teach a class on Saturdays at Emerson College to high school students under a program called EmersonWRITES. This progam is a workshop intended to help the students improve their writing and express themselves through creative writing. She happens to be an instructor in the poetry section. And she asked if I’d come through and talk to the students.
Now, I’m not a poet (and I even know it) thought I used to be. Well, that’s wrong. I used to write things that I think one could call poetry, but I’d never refer to myself as a poet. Luckily, she didn’t ask me to come be a poet but to come thru and talk to the students about strengthening their voice and getting their voices out there. I really enjoyed talking to the students and at the end, I gave all of the students – I think about 11 in total – a writing prompt. Using the closing track off of Kanye West’s seminal album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy as my muse and the 1970 Gil Scott-Heron recording of “Comment #1” attached to the music, I asked them to write based on the idea of, “Who Will Survive In America?”
Suggested Reading
While there, the students all shared drafts of their poems and I asked them to email me their final drafts and I’d choose one and then publish it here on VSB. Well, I’ve decided to publish two of the pieces sent to me. These students, and all of the submissions I received, were very impressive. I’m always amazed at how creative young people can be and this group was no exception. Below, enjoy the two pieces from Andy Rondon and Luthien Jabar.
Clap for ’em and welcome them to VSB.
Opportunity Makes the Thief
After all is said and done.After, currency becomes the voice in your throat.I’ll pay you in poetry,Pay you in words,but it won’t echo.We will all survive in the land of opportunity,But only the ones with tongues dressed in Jefferson,will have an audience who listens to them,They will live.The ones with penny Lincoln lipswill fight to be heard,but in a country,where you have to put your money where your mouth isthere isn’t much to say.
After all is said and done,There’s always money involved.Always, a hand trying to wallet your mouth,Pay, for your silence,The thieves preach.Preach, they want an end to violence,but America’s economic garden always blooms in the season of war,so guns are harvestedand given to those who will feed bulletsto anybody whose yearly pay is under 20 k.But that’s not what They said,that’s not what They hear,I guess,those who have paid the fee to livecan live with no fear.Because whatever they say always gets done,but for some of usour tongues aren’t worth much.
Andy Rondon is a Dominican American writer who is a senior in Cristo Rey Boston and has written poetry for a good chunk of his life. He is particularly interested in majoring in sociology in order to help the lower class people, but for now he is attempting to bring attention to problems in the community with his spoken word poetry. If you’re looking for him, he’s probably at home thinking what the next line of his life could be.
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red white and blue
sometimes all i can think aboutis what’s behind that flagsometimes all i can think aboutis chalices of red wine and tins of blackberry juiceour blood runneth oversometimes i try to look for the starsbut all i see is red flagsin whitebutton up shirts withwhitecollar jobswithblood stained handslike blackberry juicei listen to them slurp their blackberry juicepopping blackberries like xanaxlooking for blue buti can barely see the skyall hazy from the heatthe suns been beating down on us all dayi’ve been in the fields all dayi’ve been in the fieldsall daysugar cane sweet old carolinai’ve beenlookin for that flag for that flag forthat damn flagcoming up with only red flags likeblood stained handslike blackberry juicei’m getting tired of being drunkand watching you drinkmama always saidthe blacker the berrythe sweeter the juicemama always saidwhen you roast a pigkill it quickpanic releases toxins likebad meatlike bitter meatlike one spear through the eyewatch me dance around this fireadding gasoline to the blazelike that red flagthat corporate suitall roasted and swimmingin its own fatlard for the childrenlard for the childrendrizzled with blackberry juicerunning down the sideslike red flagslike blood stained fingerslike sticky fingerslikechild, you betterlickthosefingers
Luthien Jabar doubles as an ethereal being of light/overall creative hunny + a full time student. She specializes in poetry and invoking new perspectives and thought processes + is working on changing the world.
Straight From
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