Orator: Figures

It’s been a while since I stepped on stage for spoken word or orations. Yet last night I was sitting and spewing a few words. This piece is called Figures.

You had me dressed for church but didn’t dress me for life

where I needed that real advice

the stirring noise/the loud lessons

tapping at the door

calling my shit out/ to clean house

cant hide forever behind laundry lists and smiles

where the lips move and the eyes stare off into miles

eventually itchin’ to live in the light

stand in my power, speak my truth, and fight the good fight

Chivalry:

a boy and a girl/sex scratching to escape

a pin of broaches, emotional violence, and utter lies

mean while, I’m making copies of dicks

adding vibrational technologies

in worship of clits/ asking us to free a concept

and make it ever more legit

in other words the templates not right

Family:

you came in this world by copulation

a child wake wha! in the center of a fucked nation

shook by its convorting with social dignity lies

closed off by secrets

run child to the edges and outer skits of the patriarchs thighs

dress to live on the fringe

where the crabs do not grab to pull you back in

Friends:

America and the western industrial civil lies world

where romantic fantacism and dreams, oh what a whirl

competition

you know you try to be better

better yourself for yourself

no, negro please better than your brother

cause this is competition

show me a man who can hold the hand of his fellow man

without saying

(um…dude that’shos gay)

then I will show you an ally

show me a girlfriend who will make you tea when you staying up all night full of a dream

and you both got talent you willing to stoke, and prod, and light and feed in each other

to draw it out and better our world,

call that girl a friend

anything other is a social dignity lie

convorting and shit

lets free this concept and make it legit

so…

you had me dressed for church but didn’t dress me for life

where I needed that real advice

the stirring noise/the loud lessons

tapping at the door

calling my shit out/ to clean house

cant hide forever behind laundry lists and smiles

where the lips move and the eyes stare off into miles

eventually itchin’ to live in the light

stand in my power, speak my truth, and fight the good fight

well…damn, some of us had to figure it out.

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