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9368, basement flowers Posted by guest, Tue Dec-12-00 01:46 PM
my christmas still smells like old spice and visitation rights like my daddy who wears a pinky ring that hurts him if I hold his hand too tight so i don't i just walk behind him in the airport trying to catch up but we don't speak cause airports are noisy and so is his red sport car thats his favorite color so i wear red ribbons in my hair even though my color is purple but he doesn't see it though cause he's too busy driving to grandma's house where he said i would drop my bags off and if I hurried back to the car this time he would take me to chucky cheese or somewhere place like that doesn't matter to me i remember running fast down hall ways bumping my knees on concrete trying to make it back up the hill where he parks but he's always gone and i hate this house that sits on a hill i hate the way it doesn't smell old spice i walk back down to the door trying to sniff my flower dress to see if I smell like him and smile cause i do i did, i mean until my scenery changed i changed too he says my cousin that is tells me i changed cause the last time he saw me i was this high and that wide and now i am changed he said smiling at my flower dress he reminds me of my daddy 'cept he smiles at me so i smile back to grandma's house where she is signing silent night in the kitchen off key not listening as my cousin tells me lets play downstairs in the family room thats what fulton county basements are converted to so i follow and he leads me to believe that a monsta stays behind the washer and dryer and i run and we laugh and play freeze tag until we get tired of playing so he says lets pretend and we do the basement becomes our pretend house the pillows are our pretend children he pretends to be the daddy and i pretend to be asleep while grandma keeps singing alllllllll issssss caalllmmmm alllllll isssssss riiiiiiggggghhhttttt she doesn't know the words to the song and i forget to scream rooooouuunnnddd yourrrr virginnnnnn mmmmooottthhheeerrr and chhhhiiillldddd i think she singing about me so i lay silently and she skips a versus just for me sllllllleeeeeeppppp iinnnnn heeeeaavenly pppeeeeaaaceeee sllleeep innnn heaven-ly peaceeeee she is finished singing now so she can come and save me open the door walk down the creeking stairs yell thats its time for dinner cause she's finished singing but he's still pretending smelling like sweat and now & laters sweet youth his sweet youth is choking me and grandma ain't singing so why the fuck didn't she save me how can she sing holy songs 'bout baby jesus and mary and not come and save me from choking on sweet youth mixed with mildew that keeps clinging to my memories cause this ain't the first time grandma forget to save me and my momma forgot to save me telling me to save myself for marriage but never told me bout playing house just always said "jesus wants you to save your flowers" but my jesus forgot to save me too and i don't care about the flowers on my dress getting dirty he just better not take my smell away he better not take my old spice smell away he better not take it but he did he got up put my smell in his pocket ran up the creeky stairs and gave my grandma a kiss on her fat cheeks while I was downstairs in her family room trying to smell my daddy again but my flowers have lost their scent.
-be yo nd. ______________________
- Thanks and Praise to the ((MOST HIGH)) and ((ANCESTORS)) for words that I didn't know I remembered.
---------------------- http://www.sheflypaper.com
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9369, RE: basement flowers Posted by Maverick, Tue Dec-12-00 01:49 PM
this was oh so dope beyond....haven't read one of yours in a while but it is good to be blessed again...shine on
Hit me up at Madlib2361@aol.com
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9370, basement flowers Posted by ThaAnthology, Tue Dec-12-00 01:52 PM
Oh my God. I have arear in my wig for that joint. yo.
Positive Energy Activates Constant Elevation
I am...I be.
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Okay-Okay
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9371, Sunshine, so good to have you back; in writing sense among us Posted by guest, Tue Dec-12-00 01:53 PM
>he better not take my old >spice smell away >he better not >take it >but he did >he got up >put my smell in his pocket > >ran up the creeky stairs >and gave my grandma >a kiss >on her fat cheeks >while I was downstairs >in her family room >trying to smell my daddy >again >but >my flowers have lost their scent.
Okay, talk about heart-felt and able to relate as far as the daddy issue. This was love. Isn't it funny how the people we love the most never seem to have the time to help us out when we need it? I am loving this, and writer's block can step the fuck off.. My girl is back. Stay Positive and Keep Posting.
:-):-(;-):D:9:P And I am done.
"Ohhhh, baby we need to smile." Erykah Badu
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9372, *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Posted by guest, Tue Dec-12-00 03:35 PM
i wear red ribbons in my hair even though my color is purple
my cipher~~ my sistren when he cuts away our ribbons we will weave more.
rgv.
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9373, RE: basement flowers Posted by KnowOne, Tue Dec-12-00 03:47 PM
Yo Sis....aint' got the words to do this justice....so just know that this was felt......
"I'm nothing like me"-KnowOne
"You lack the faith to move mountains; yet take pride in your ability to roll trees?"-KnowOne
"Light in the absence of eyes illuminates nothing."-AeonFlux
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9374, damn.. he took it.. Posted by Giovanni, Tue Dec-12-00 03:52 PM
"i don't care about the flowers on my dress getting dirty he just better not take my smell away he better not take my old spice smell away he better not take it but he did he got up put my smell in his pocket ran up the creeky stairs and gave my grandma a kiss on her fat cheeks while I was downstairs in her family room trying to smell my daddy again but my flowers have lost their scent."
damn.. that's scary.. I could see e'rythang happenin'.. this is so tight BEYOND.. stay up and damn.. I'ma be on the look out for your next piece..
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9375, RE: basement flowers Posted by guest, Tue Dec-12-00 04:16 PM
whew... strong strong words... you confront deep topics with honesty, and the freshness of your wordplay makes the lines stick in my mind...
>so i follow >and he leads me >to believe that >a monsta stays behind the washer and dryer
powerful use of silent night, and then:
>and grandma ain't singing >so why the fuck didn't she > >save me >how can she sing >holy songs >'bout baby jesus >and mary >and not come >and >save >me >from >choking >on sweet youth mixed with mildew > >that keeps clinging to my memories > >cause this ain't the first time > >grandma forget to save >me >and >my momma forgot to save me > >telling me to save myself >for marriage >but never told me bout playing >house
this last line killed me:
>my flowers have lost their scent.
if i remember your style right, you're probably taking on a character here, but anyway, i got to say that my heart goes out to the voice behind this. and if you can't smell the flowers right now, doesn't mean they've lost their scent. thank you for this poem and peace.
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9376, if I wasn't at work Posted by LexM, Wed Dec-13-00 04:01 AM
I'd be in tears...I'm gonna read this again when I get some time alone...
cause you never forget afternoons alone in the house...
peace
L.
"My name is Lex & I'm a freestyle board addict..." ~~me at my weekly meeting
"words just disguise/all of the things/that you be" ~~Bilal
"hell emphatically no" (c) Damon Wayans in Bamboozled
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9377, Yeah I'm at work too Posted by incogx, Wed Dec-13-00 04:53 AM
lei, you just took me on a beuatifully written but very painful ride in someone else's shoes... so painful that i was hoping it was fictional.. but even if it was it's still sadly a true story. i won't even go on. i'll just say that you are a truly blessed writer. maintain and keep being you.
Cog
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“for u to grow he had to go so what u stoppin' him for/ not even i can ignore being alone... it's hard/ find heaven in yourself and God” ...Common
“God works in mysterious ways so when he start/ the job of speakin thru us we be so sincere with this here/ no drugs or alcohol so i can get the signal clear/ as day.. put my glock away/ i got a stronger weapon that never runs out of ammunition so i'm ready for war.. okay” ...Andre (Kast)
“you said he reached sir/ but he didn't have no piece sir/ and now he rest in peace sir/ in the belly of the beast sir” ...Wyclef Jean
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9378, what a way Posted by presyzion, Wed Dec-13-00 05:36 AM
to get past that writers block. i don't even have to say how much i liked this piece...and you would still know. i'm privileged to say that we are fam. this was beautiful Lei. Peace.†
E-mail me at presyzion@hotmail.com AIM: presyzion10
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"Never disrespect no women cause I love my momma"-Kweli
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9379, a nursery ryhme. . . Posted by legal_tenda, Wed Dec-13-00 06:41 AM
for the molested. . . to keep time and rock in paralyzed memory. . .and for the molesters who are far too many. . .that sometimes smell of oldspice. . and sometimes smell of sweet youth but very sour now & laters .who continue to take our flowers . . .very visual . . .very climactic . . .very synchopated. . .very true . . .u should format this into a little book for psycho therapy of little flowers and their families who need to relate and know that they are not alone. . .girl this is a true "piece" of mind . . .asante asana
All is love. .. Peace & Blessings~ Legal Tenda'
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9380, love love love love love Posted by guerilla_love, Wed Dec-13-00 06:49 AM
i am in love with your line breaks cuz they added so much flexibility to yr flow
wow wow wow
so many breaks i wuz cheering you on for. they gave your words power. step by step and so much that i cd hear as i read and see it wuz a deep piece well well well well well done. even a topic that's been done and done and done and done. but you did it so well. even with the length it kept me sukt in.
uhhmmmmm. thank you. that wuz luscious.
==**peace**==
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9381, incredible Posted by lexx3001, Wed Dec-13-00 07:02 AM
Many times words paint better images than visual pictures. The fact that this was written makes it 2000 times more haunting than if it was a movie. You used perfect wordplay to express this emotion and I praise you for that. That was incredible. Peace, Lexx
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9382, RE: basement flowers Posted by guest, Wed Dec-13-00 07:02 AM
Very beautiful piece.
Love is Life and through Life I seek enternal Love! If for nothing else than to know me...you will love what you begin to know...Hold on to that
One!
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9383, Beyond_Levels-That's where y'always take me... Posted by MUSE, Wed Dec-13-00 07:04 AM
your tears adorn my minds odor with virgin in(no)cense burning with smoking arising upon my souls flesh wearing no ~scents
... .. .
I now wear no fragance And to think that Old Spice was My "former scent" prior to my "ascent" to Dolce Garbana or is it Arrid XXXtra (un)dry? at the corner of my eye "i" see my reflection lost in the light out the basement door beaming diagonally upon the basement floor the concrete floor where "i" was whored by her waiting to be breast-fed at 8 now str8 into her womb i'm enslaved caved in my heart is caved in no longer understanding no reason no longer demanding to define this unwanted feeling because
mommy said it's her "sister" and daddy says that he "trusts" her but her thrusts feel like porn"i"cation with my organ donated in dedication to my loss of the joy of exploration
auntee rises up in vexation whilst "i" tear in consternation perplexed wondering why? is she upset at me? "what's wrong with you!?!" echoes consistently remembering several attempts to thrust her insecurities on me numerous slaps for my inconsistency many pelvic burns with her hip bones pressing me... and "i" finally free from her embrace her lace over my face her mahogany void of space that "i" define as the "circle" that "forbidden place", can't seem to feel free to love
ever.
and "i" no longer wear Dolce but
Sour...
sour memories of a childhood stripped from me whilst i was bare and a fear
of being touched in the same way ever
again.
I now wear no fragance fear rages and grumbles accusingly nullifying consciousness and my existence
as a child of innocence...
I now wear no fragance
I now wear no fragance
xxxoooxxxoooxxxoooxxx :*
one love.muse
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9384, RE: basement flowers Posted by noseitall, Wed Dec-13-00 08:12 AM
beyond you're truly one of the great talents!!! everytime you drop something it's golden. your words just seem to jump off of the screen and demand attention/focus and they receive. i really, really liked this piece as all the others!!! much love. . . peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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9385, RE: basement flowers Posted by guest, Wed Dec-13-00 09:31 AM
This is was very interesting for me to read. I know what it is like to have a part-time Dad. I understand exactly where your comming from. All the way down to getting dropped off at grandma's when dad went away. This really touched home for me. Thanx for being real in this poem, now I think people can have a better understanding of what happens when Daddy isn't home when he should!
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9386, damn beyond..... Posted by Preach, Wed Dec-13-00 10:04 AM
you got me motivated to write somethin' now...bout to hit it up after i'm done praising you. so here goes:
that was illahill.
there! done praising..peace
yall wanna hear some of the joints?
'with you' http://www.freeyellow.com/members4/7moonz/with%20you.rm
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'the vow' http://www.freeyellow.com/members4/7moonz/vow.rm
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9387, RE: basement flowers Posted by shaolin2000, Wed Dec-13-00 12:38 PM
I have to give it to you, the imagery and the storytelling held and captivated me and it was so warming and yet heartwrenching at the same time. Just AWESOME and inspiring and when am I going to be invited to join your Poetry page.I emailed you some time back with no response. Hit me up please. The Shaolin:-0) When your enemy digs a grave for you, God gives you an emergency exit. check out my web site............................. http://shaolinkeepitreal.homestead.com/shaolin.html
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9388, sorry... Posted by guest, Wed Dec-13-00 03:14 PM
but I have been working on the new layout..
i am back to posting new poetry pieces.. so hopefully I will be getting to you soon...if I can find an art piece that fits your words...
peace and thanks. be yo nddddd -------------------------------------- Shameless Plugs:
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9389, RE: basement flowers Posted by gee, Wed Dec-13-00 01:43 PM
Dammn, if I haven't been picking up the pieces of the aftermath of something like this, great piece, so powerful.
Peace Gee
"You're still so young to travel so far Old enough to know who you are Wise enough to carry the scars Without any blame, there's no-one to blame" Neil Finn
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9390, Buenas Noches y Gracias Posted by Seven, Wed Dec-13-00 06:49 PM
Hi there, I was studying and decided to take a little break...Came on the board and saw this...... Superb work.......as usual....Welcome back....Thanx for returning with such a BANG!!!!...... By the way our little cyber chat the other day really lifted my spirits..Thanx for that too.....
Looking forward to hearing more new stuff...... Keep it coming, keep doing what you do, keep thinking about what u want to do.....
Gracias
7even
Be humble and wise, humble and wise/ Seeketh the Truth and not the lies/ Be strong as the I/ I and I will help the I/ This is Rastafari's paradise... -----Sizzla
These punk style niggas screamin' out 4 help/ But there's nothing better in this world than life itself... ---Lil Dap..
So gimme me and then I'm straight..as 8:05/ See blind folds can't cover 3 eyes/ We wise to the fact, yes we attack with what we know/ Heaven is the only good life, so what you strivin fo.. ----Andre 3000
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9391, My flowers are buried somewhere too. Posted by guest, Thu Dec-14-00 03:00 PM
>my christmas still smells >like old spice and visitation rights > >like my daddy
This is a great way to begin your story. I can smell it.
>who wears a pinky ring >that hurts him if I hold >his hand too tight >so i don't >i just walk behind him in >the airport >trying to catch up >but we don't speak
Nice word play on "trying to catch up".
>cause airports are noisy >and so >is his red sport car >thats his favorite color >so >i wear red ribbons in my >hair even though my color >is purple >but he doesn't see it though > >cause he's too busy >driving >to grandma's house >where he said i would drop >my bags off >and if I hurried back to >the car >this time >he would take me >to chucky cheese or somewhere place >like that >doesn't matter to me >i remember >running fast >down hall ways bumping my knees > >on concrete >trying to make it back up >the hill where he parks > >but he's always gone
I like the way you take a memory and make it come back, its like a flahback in a movie. I can see the disappoint. I can relate.
>and >i hate this house that sits >on a hill >i hate the way it doesn't >smell old spice >i walk back down to the >door >trying to sniff my flower dress > >to see if I smell like >him >and smile >cause i do
Children are so forgiving. Even after being left, you are still happy that you have a part of him with you.
>i did, i mean >until my scenery >changed >i changed too
After reading the entire poem, this line stuck out the most when I read it again. The concept of "change". I saw it as, after the incident in the basement, you changed.
>he says >my cousin that is >tells me i changed >cause the last time he saw >me i was >this high >and that wide >and now i am >changed >he said >smiling at my flower dress >he reminds me of my daddy > >'cept he smiles at me >so i smile >back >to grandma's house >where she is signing silent night
I don't know where you got the idea of putting silent night in this piece, but it worked out great. You were able to change the entire meaning of a traditional song with this.
>in the kitchen >off key >not listening >as my cousin tells me >lets play downstairs >in the family room >thats what fulton county basements >are converted >to
Where is fulton county? And, does it have a particular meaning?
>so i follow >and he leads me >to believe that
Nice word play.
>a monsta stays behind the washer >and dryer >and i run >and we laugh >and play freeze tag >until we get tired of playing > >so he says >lets pretend >and we do >the basement becomes our pretend house > >the pillows are our pretend children > >he pretends to be the daddy > >and i pretend to be asleep
The pretend to be asleep thing caught my attention.
> >while grandma keeps singing >alllllllll issssss caalllmmmm >alllllll isssssss riiiiiiggggghhhttttt >she doesn't know the words to >the song >and i forget to scream >rooooouuunnnddd yourrrr virginnnnnn >mmmmooottthhheeerrr and chhhhiiillldddd
This is what I mean about you changing the meaning of this song. It has a big christmas feel to it.
>i think she singing about me > >so >i lay >silently >and she skips a versus >just for me >sllllllleeeeeeppppp iinnnnn heeeeaavenly pppeeeeaaaceeee >sllleeep innnn heaven-ly peaceeeee >she is finished singing now >so >she can come and >save me >open the door >walk down the creeking stairs >yell thats its time for dinner > >cause >she's finished singing >but he's still pretending >smelling like >sweat and now & laters >sweet youth >his sweet youth is >choking me
I saw "sweet youth" as his scent. a play on "smell" and as his dick or sexual intentions.
>and grandma ain't singing >so why the fuck didn't she >
The anger builds.
>save me >how can she sing >holy songs >'bout baby jesus >and mary >and not come >and >save >me >from >choking >on sweet youth mixed with mildew > >that keeps clinging to my memories > >cause this ain't the first time
A twist. A cycle.
> >grandma forget to save >me >and >my momma forgot to save me > >telling me to save myself >for marriage >but never told me bout playing >house
Strong thought.
>just always said "jesus wants you >to >save your flowers" >but >my jesus forgot to save me > >too
Another strong thought and statement.
>and i don't care about the >flowers >on my dress >getting dirty >he just better not take my >smell away >he better not take my old >spice smell away >he better not >take it
More build up of anger.
>but he did >he got up >put my smell in his pocket > >ran up the creeky stairs >and gave my grandma >a kiss >on her fat cheeks >while I was downstairs >in her family room >trying to smell my daddy >again >but >my flowers have lost their scent. >
Strong way to end it. > >-be yo nd.
Yes, you are.
>______________________ > >- Thanks and Praise to the >((MOST HIGH)) and ((ANCESTORS)) for >words that I didn't know >I remembered.
I assume that this is real. But then again, that is my down fall, always assuming.
I think I read someone else's comment that gave recognition to your breaks in this poem. I think that it did further the intense tone. The breaks were useful and well placed. But the reason why this poem hit me so hard was because it was real to me. When I read it, I remembered my own story. My own flowers.I don't know if I should thank you or hate you for bringing these emotions back. You write well, and if this hasn't happened to you, you are a great pretender.
.dialtone.
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9392, sorry. Posted by guest, Mon Dec-18-00 06:19 PM
I didn't see your response. but thank you for taking the time to look deeper into my words...
to answer your questions...
>Where is fulton county? And, does >it have a particular meaning?
In Atlanta... its just a reference truth.
>I assume that this is real. >But then again, that is >my down fall, always assuming.
Some eyes....are ....mine....and some downfall lead us to the right...reasons...
I >don't know if I should >thank you or hate you >for bringing these emotions back.
if I evoke any emotions, I am flattered.
>You write well, and if >this hasn't happened to you, >you are a great pretender.
I pretend that some stories aren't mine....hoping that makes me a good writer.
Thanks again.
be.on.yo.p&q's.nd.
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9393, RE: basement flowers Posted by ThaHigher, Thu Dec-14-00 07:04 PM
goodness...you caught me with the very first line...and spit me out...soaked in emotion at the very end...this was....
ThaHigHER
"knowing others is intelligence, knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength, Mastering yourself is true power". -Tao Te ching "I live for the sake of contradicting with purpose. Balance.Balance.Balance." -Me "Beware the man of one book." -St. Thomas Acquinas "Thinking is the soul talking to itself" -Plato
contact me at ThaHigher@aol.com
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9394, RE: Mmm-mmm-mmm Posted by guest, Thu Dec-14-00 09:29 PM
yo, why are you so nice?
see, this is what I like about you. your so personal. weather the metaphor in the poem is you or someone close to you, you +always+ find a way to flip and re-flip ish to the point where its not even words anymore. its not even poetry. its, movements, its photo frames, its motion.
I mean, this piece (and that other one where I keyed in an editor's review length response) is so dope that it should be illegal in some states. wtf do you think about when you write? what is your inspiration? I'm very curious 'cause this is so well constructed (except for the small sentence fragements, but if that was done on purpose, please correct me), I don't even know where to begin on complimenting it.
now, I have a short perception of it. okay, you had your father in your life. moms and you had split from him early, and it was more or so a weekend meeting with you. he took you out, bought you things, weared that cologne you liked. he loved you for what you were, right? but as you came up in age, dad started promising you a lot of things, and hadn't carried those promises out like he used to. he didn't see you as much, he layed off on calling you and checking on how school was, and he didn't invite you over as much. okay, I'm assuming that he and your mother had a lot of problems socially (mainly over you) and he just didn't like the pressure and responsibilites your mother "ironed on him" (as he probably said). so he and you gradually broke away from each other, but that last meeting had a promise settled in it that wasn't carried out, and so this is what the flower dress represented. the memories you shared with him.
mmm-kay, now moms has to recooperate from all that, and uh, a couple years later, she connects with someone. now, she feels that this is where she patches up the past with your father and all, and she introduces that glitch in your life to you. now in the presence of moms, duke's the perfect picture. but behind all that, you know he's more of what your father wasn't (or was). so one night, he goes the distance, and gives you a christmas present, one you don't expect, in this basement your speakin about. now your wearin this dress that represented your father, and in the post event, you feel dirty and betrayed. so now those petals on that flower dress are ruined and now that good smelling dress full of good memories, is douced with a bad one, and now that memory garden has been destroyed (boy, I hope I'm on point with this 'cause I'ma look like a fool keyin up all this, thinkin I'm nailing your intentions and I'm dead wrong). I'm not sure if who you were playin with represents a friend, a stepfather, your father or some other relative, but this is what I got out of it. correct me (if your up for it) if I'm wrong.
reguardless though, this is truly beautiful in its structure and storyline.
'bravo' a million times.
beyond_levels? you've got a talent ma, and I don't even think you know the extention of it. you hold your name up very, +very+ well. and I just want to commend you on being able to tap the heads of others with all the personal, opinionated, and thought provoking things you have to say through poetry. the language you speak is universal, and hopefully I can be the first to say that I'm here to listen, word up.
prosperity, love and understanding yo. you really overdid it with this one beyond_levels. a true masterpiece.
You need to take that ish back to the lab, e-Factor
One man's simple is another man's huh—David Stone, 1979
I ain't living like everybody, my lifestyle is different from the next man, and my mind state is diffrent from the next man, but the bottom line is we are all young Black people trying to get ours. It ain't no room to be cutting the next man's throat. Because at the end of the day, white folks run the shit, and we run around in it—Mos Def, 1999
As a child, I was afraid of the storm, but now I welcome the rain—Slug of Atmosphere, 1999
The only thing constant is change—(Rakka) Iriscience of Dilated Peoples, 2000
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9395, you bring forth light. Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 05:22 AM
>yo, why are you so nice?
---- Thank you from the beginning.
>to the point where its >not even words anymore. >its not even poetry. >its, movements, its photo frames, >its motion.
------ That is one of the BEST compliments I have ever received in my entire existence! You keyed into why I say "keep the motion" when I leave someone's post...motion is highly important..constant...motion..e-motions...to move up and on. Thank you again for seeing in to that.
>I mean, this piece (and that >other one where I keyed >in an editor's review length >response)
----I remember that, you even sent me an e-mail with the response. It still shocks my memory.
wtf do >you think about when you >write? what is your >inspiration?
----- Well, sometimes, I write from the eyes of other people...but some eyes....are mine.....I haven't written in a month. I vowed silence until the right words came out again. See, what happened was I was so busying try to write "whatever" that I forgot to listen to me. The last piece I wrote for my mother, called "7300 poems for my mother", it drained me. I never put some much of me into a poem. Never wrote a poem that every time I read it or recite it, I begin to cry. So...after that poem, I found myself at a lost for words. I felt like I had gone to an edge...and I couldn't turn back to writing the same way that I did before.... I don't know if that makes sense...but as long as I have been a poet, I hardly ever wrote poem about me personally, about my eyes...and my beginnings..my basements and backseats. I had writers block because every time I picked up a pen I was trying to write about someone else....live through another soul...but there were words of my own that were choking me to come out. I wasn't ready to let them out. I wasn't prepared to hear my truth...so I vowed silence, until I did again. ((did I go off on to another point? YES! Okay.)) My inspiration is the after effect that each poems has on the reader. I want it to be real. I want it to right. I need for readers to see/fee/hear/taste/understand what the speaker in the poem does. That is what inspires me. And that is what I think about when I write.
I'm very curious >'cause this is so well >constructed (except for the small >sentence fragements, but if that >was done on purpose, please >correct me)
----I don't know structure when I write. My poetry doesn't take a pre-set form..and my sentences lose their grammatical correctness. And even though I'm an English major, I continue to wreck the language. Honestly, I feel like the entire poem is a sentence. Each line drips into the other....like links..I use word play to link the lines rather than end one sentence and try and start another one. For instance:
i just walk behind him in the airport -trying to catch up- (plays for both lines) but we don't speak
so i smile -back- (double again) to grandma's house
so i follow -and he leads me- to believe that
until we get tired of playing -so he says- lets pretend
I also use breaks in sentence...like
how can she sing holy songs 'bout baby jesus and mary and not come and save me from choking on sweet youth mixed with mildew
that break down is to be read and understood just as it is...like each word is a child choking.
>now, I have a short perception >of it. okay, you >had your father in your >life. moms and you >had split from him early, >and it was more or >so a weekend meeting with >you.
-------Yes, Christmas vacation is usually the time I would go up to Atlanta ( hence the "fulton county basement" line).
my christmas still smells like old spice and visitation rights like my daddy
he took you >out, bought you things, weared >that cologne you liked. >he loved you for what >you were, right?
------All right, let me explain this part. I loved him because I wanted to be a part of him. I wanted him to love me too.
explanation: who wears a pinky ring that hurts him if I hold his hand too tight
----Shows that I want to love him..but I can't..because it seems to bother him.
so i don't i just walk behind him in the airport trying to catch up but we don't speak
-------This shows that the relationship isn't close to being "good" or close. I want to be close...I want to speak..but he sliently pushes me off.
cause airports are noisy and so is his red sport car *( sports cars are sometime seen as a "single" thing. You don't think of parents with sport cars, esp of young children. Shows is selfishness...he's moving on with life.)*
thats his favorite color so i wear red ribbons in my hair even though my color is purple but he doesn't see it though cause he's too busy
The ribbons I wear are showing that I am trying hard for him to "like me", wearing his favorite color, trying to be like him, but he still doesn't see it.
>but >as you came up in >age, dad started promising you >a lot of things, and >hadn't carried those promises out >like he used to. >he didn't see you as >much, he layed off on >calling you and checking on >how school was, and he >didn't invite you over as >much.
------Actually, it represented a routine sort of. He would pick me up every Christmas and drop me off at Grandma's and tell me that if "hurry back to the car" he would take me with him...knowing that I would not make it back before he left, so I would feel like it was my fault for not running fast enough. BUT...in the poem..I used only one time frame...the present then.
okay, I'm assuming >that he and your mother >had a lot of problems >socially (mainly over you) and >he just didn't like the >pressure and responsibilites your mother >"ironed on him" (as he >probably said). so he >and you gradually broke away >from each other, but that >last meeting had a promise >settled in it that wasn't >carried out, and so this >is what the flower dress >represented. the memories you >shared with him.
-----You're right about one thing, the flower dress or the "old spice" smell represents my father. But I am not trying to hold on to the memories of him..I am trying to be a part of him. I want to smell like him. Thats my link.
> >mmm-kay, now moms has to recooperate >from all that, and uh, >a couple years later, she >connects with someone. now, >she feels that this is >where she patches up the >past with your father and >all, and she introduces that >glitch in your life to >you. now in the >presence of moms, duke's the >perfect picture.
----The cousin that comes in..is a cousin. I can see where you got that "step father" from though. The story doesn't have a lot of metaphors. Though...I don like your story line :)...gives it a depth...but the poem was based on actual occurences.
but behind >all that, you know he's >more of what your father >wasn't (or was). so >one night, he goes the >distance, and gives you a >christmas present, one you don't >expect, in this basement your >speakin about.
---Yes, but its the cousin.
now your >wearin this dress that represented >your father, and in the >post event, you feel dirty >and betrayed. so now >those petals on that flower >dress are ruined and now >that good smelling dress full >of good memories, is douced >with a bad one, and >now that memory garden has >been destroyed (boy, I hope >I'm on point with this >'cause I'ma look like a >fool keyin up all this, >thinkin I'm nailing your intentions >and I'm dead wrong).
----lol...you are on point with the basics of the story....but sometimes minds that travel in depth see more than what is there. The flower dress and scent have a dual purpose, her/my innocence, as well as a link to the father. The speaker isn't upset about the flowers...because she just wants her daddy...she just needs her daddy to be around.you see that she blames everone from the grandma to the mother and even as far as Jesus...but she never associates any fault with her father. As a little girl...sometimes the only thing you want is to be a part of your father's life...to be daddy's little girl.. nothing else matters... >I'm not sure if who >you were playin with represents >a friend, a stepfather, your >father or some other relative, >but this is what I >got out of it. >correct me (if your up >for it) if I'm wrong.
Through this poem..YOU were able to see behind scenes...to make a life out of the words....and thats what i wanted! I wanted the characters in the poem to become a live...relateable..like you could see it happening..and you did that with depth..you were on point... You have to remember that..my poetry means one thing to me..but it comes to mean anything from you. YOU ARE THE READER..whatever you see...you were meant to see...what you chose to see...and that is the beauty of poetry. It is able to transform into many out of one. Some people might even have seen their relationship with their fathers...some have seen their own basement flowers... some see parents separation....some people will see a helpless child..but it all fits in. So, there is no real need to "correct you"..this was only my way of telling you how I saw it when I wrote it... but please..keep your eyes...seeing...what...your eyes...see.
>beyond_levels? you've got a talent >ma, and I don't even >think you know the extention >of it.
-----And I will be the first to admit that I don't. And I hope I never do, so that I may continue to live at peace with humbleness. Once an artist no longer starves..they forget what hunger is....art is my hunger....
>I'm here to listen, word >up.
I have peeped your work as well....lets just say...we're both here and listening. ;)
You know, I was just complaining the other day about how I felt some people that reply to work don't actual read the posts. They just say "good work" or "that is great", just so that people can come out to their poems and do the same thing. I respect opinions.. even if you would have said that this piece was some weak isht..as long as you supported your thesis, I would have appreciated it. I commend you..and respect the fact that you took the time to read the work..but also the effort into understanding it and telling me what you thought. This means so much to me.
Thank you again for the chance to speak.
keep the motion beyond. myself.
-------------------------------------- Shameless Plugs:
~OkayPoets...okayplayers who write wanna be a part? check out: http://welcome.to/okaypoets
~ more of my poetry http://www.sheflypaper.com
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9396, jesus forgot me too~ Posted by guest, Thu Dec-14-00 09:54 PM
so many yrs ago i had to reply 1nce again~
my jesus forgot to save me too and i don't care about the flowers on my dress getting dirty he just better not take my smell away he better not take my old spice smell away he better not take it but he did he got up put my smell in his pocket ran up the creeky stairs and gave my grandma a kiss on her fat cheeks while I was downstairs in her family room trying to smell my daddy again but my flowers have lost their scent.
rgv.
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9397, RE: jesus forgot me too~ Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 11:24 AM
Dayum, I wanna respond to this piece, but can't help to respond to RG first. I have read your work, been confused by your comments, even bewidered at times to what "I" might "think" of what kind of woman you "might" be. I want to tell you that I read, printed, and healed (somewhat) from your piece titled "Infanticide". It is an incredible piece of art to put so much creativity into so much pain. I have no doubt that you are talented as hell, yet, I still wonder what makes you tick? I have noticed that you haven't posted, yet your replies are very detailed. Pleaz don't misunderstand this statement, I know that "who" you are is none of my business, yet I can't help but to let you know that I *wonder* what goes thru your mind at times.
Thanx, Destinyz
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9398, lemme see~ Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 06:53 PM
>Dayum, I wanna respond to this >piece, but can't help to >respond to RG first.
fair enuff >I have read your work,
thank u
>been confused by your comments,
most have >even bewidered at times to >what "I" might "think" of >what kind of woman you >"might" be.
ima womyn, thats where u fked up. :)
I want >to tell you that I >read, printed, and healed (somewhat) >from your piece titled "Infanticide".
i am humbled.
> It is an incredible >piece of art to put >so much creativity into so >much pain.
thank u.
I have >no doubt that you are >talented as hell,
my daddy says the same thang~
yet, I >still wonder what makes you >tick?
well, shit gets to me, i am human, but PPL???? only my mother and my two ex's, b/c i NEEDED them at points; my mother, for 9 mths of healthy gestation, and my ex's for well ummm the love, it was just sooooooo soo soo very well it just; it was.
I have noticed >that you haven't posted,
the last one was "hajj."
yet >your replies are very detailed.
i want ppl to use their FULL potential, thats all, im tryna help, sumtimes im truely misunderstood, but oh well~ niggas need to evolve~ if u gotta gift dont utilize it half ass~~~
> Pleaz don't misunderstand this >statement,
its kewl~
I know that "who" >you are is none of >my business,
so very true, and wrong at the same time~~~ as long as u read my words, u know me~~~ u just havent seen I femme~
yet I can't >help but to let you >know that I *wonder* what >goes thru your mind at >times.
hurt does, theres a lot of hurt in the world, it blows me the fk away at times. ppl r in pain~, and not just physical either, muthafkas need bandaids~
> >Thanx, >Destinyz
ure welcome
rgv.
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9399, RE: lemme see~ Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 07:51 PM
>even bewidered at times to >what "I" might "think" of >what kind of woman you >"might" be.
ima womyn, thats where u fked up.
WAIT A MINUTE!!!!!! Pleaz don't misunderstand what I was tryin' to relay in this part. I may have misused some wording here, I wasn't saying that you "might" be a woman. It is very apparent that you are definitly ALL WOMYN!!!!!!!! Sorry for the misrep of what I meant. Thanx for the replies, and yes, I will most def email ya.
Destinyz :)
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9400, i didnt misunderstand, Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 07:55 PM
i was speakin of the difference between a woman, and a womyn. (ill expalin anotha time)
rgv.
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9401, RE: basement flowers Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 11:38 AM
GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! Why is it that so many of us have been thru this kind of hell?
Yeah...... Jesus forgot to save my azz too!!!!!!!
What the fuck are they thinking????? Not only the abuser, but our fathers that don't give us the time we need, so we accept -time- from the "wrong" person in the "wrong" ways.
>smiling at my flower dress >he reminds me of my daddy >'cept he smiles at me >so i smile >back
Ya wanna know what the fuck I gotta say???????
FUCK ALL YOU FATHERS THAT WONT GIVE "US" THE TIME OF DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU DADDY!!!!!!!!!!!!
Whooooooo....... I feel so much better right now. I hope ya don't mind that I let off a little steam in your place here today. Just wanted to let you know how your words affected me.
This is beautiful, I know I need to write about my own experience. I have held off for quite sometime now, but I am feeling it releasing out of me the more I read about this subject. I doubt it will be much longer that I can hold all these years of pain inside of me.
Thanx for sharing, Destinyz :)
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9402, UP!!!!! Posted by guest, Fri Dec-15-00 02:59 PM
:D
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9403, Beautiful Sistah... Posted by guest, Sat Dec-16-00 01:36 PM
im not gonna go on and say a whole lot..but ur real...and i felt every word said...memories..imagines coming back to play...real is real...peace
Dreadedqueen@aol.com WAKE THE FUK UP CUZ ITZ BEEN TOO LONG!
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9404, RE: basement flowers Posted by guest, Sat Dec-16-00 08:35 PM
yo, let's get this poppin with responses one more time.
man, this should get archived, for real for real.
well, gotta go. its time for me to stop suckin beyond_levels slit, right?
me and my perverted self.
wtf. y'all know me, huh?
get it up and movin y'all!
You need to take that ish back to the lab, e-Factor
One man's simple is another man's huh—David Stone, 1979
I ain't living like everybody, my lifestyle is different from the next man, and my mind state is diffrent from the next man, but the bottom line is we are all young Black people trying to get ours. It ain't no room to be cutting the next man's throat. Because at the end of the day, white folks run the shit, and we run around in it—Mos Def, 1999
As a child, I was afraid of the storm, but now I welcome the rain—Slug of Atmosphere, 1999
The only thing constant is change—(Rakka) Iriscience of Dilated Peoples, 2000
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9405, beyon's... slit.... Posted by guest, Mon Dec-18-00 04:46 AM
oh my.....
lol...
beyond.myself.sumtimes.
-------------------------------------- Shameless Plugs:
~OkayPoets...okayplayers who write wanna be a part? check out: http://welcome.to/okaypoets
~ more of my poetry http://www.sheflypaper.com
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9406, Archive Archive Archive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Posted by Seven, Mon Dec-18-00 04:52 AM
This is one for the record books......
Though my favorite Beyond piece is Brown, Blunt Brother....can't remember the exact name....
This was lovely though.....
Be humble and wise, humble and wise/ Seeketh the Truth and not the lies/ Be strong as the I/ I and I will help the I/ This is Rastafari's paradise... -----Sizzla
These punk style niggas screamin' out 4 help/ But there's nothing better in this world than life itself... ---Lil Dap..
So gimme me and then I'm straight..as 8:05/ See blind folds can't cover 3 eyes/ We wise to the fact, yes we attack with what we know/ Heaven is the only good life, so what you strivin fo.. ----Andre 3000
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9407, Thanks Posted by ToeJam, Mon Dec-18-00 08:11 AM
I am late from my break here at work, but this kept me glued to my screen. Enthralling. First post I've read here in a while, and I'm very inpired. Love to you and beyond......
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9408, this piece was dope. Posted by Aeon, Wed Oct-31-01 09:37 AM
bravo.
§æon§
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