This is a photograph from8 years ago during the first Writing Our Lives conference. Today, we begin anew in NYC. From Louisville, to Syracuse, to Connecticut, to the Apple. I am excited to be a part of this journey. Countdown to performance in 3...2...1.
Writing Our Lives To #BeFree
(written for Leadership and Public Service High School)
We are the writers of our lives,
destined to be free,
scribbling our hopes and dreams
in the vibrant landscape of NYC,
“We can do this, yes,
the combo of you & me,
with leadership & alphabet letters,
as simple as A B C,
and speech bubbles,
“Oh, Say Can You See,”
how quickly we become a story,
and are able to bring glory
to the nerd,
a nincompoop
(whose out to prove the narcissist wrong).
We, the chapter books,
who grow intellectually strong
through poetry, writing all that is wrong
while righting, as neophytes,
to bring our personal light to others…”
ouch, hmmmm, yum, ahhhh, How about we just look at ya’ll?
whoosh, swish, wishing to be free.
Writing our lives in celestial serenity!
We are the word warriors
riding the Metro with books & morning coffee,
while speeding along the cartography of culture,
and bringing greater harmony, an epiphany,
to the finger-tapping lives we know upon the keyboard piano,
joining hands to roast the rats,
the stubborn brats, so
we can find beauty in the waltz of cyberspace
and power in lightening bolts to spark possibility from disgrace,
while removing dampness and the mundane,
Not following me? Let me explain…
We write to make the the body electric,
& we create to make the earth more sane.
Our Lives. Writing. We #BeFree. Are. .
Old friends laughing,
letting words go, here we are dancing
in memories
(like the pitter-pat tap-tap of rain)
sharing curiosity & wisdom,
(like Miles Davis and Aretha Franklin, jazz in our brain)
with the protest songs we create & throw out of the window,
to speak our ideas externally, to join the ebb & flow
(oh, Dr. Seuss, the places we go)
when riding the lapping waves,
embracing justice while we can
for ancestors who lie their graves.
Writing Our Lives, We Be Free, not dumb, in freedom.
ba, dum, ba, dum, dum, banging the linguistic drum.
saying nope to the hate of those who grope,
& taking pride with walking an intellectual tightrope
(with Ubuntu, I hope)
and the historical beans and cultural rice,
taking more risks & paying the price
while balancing just how nice it is to
cross the salty water of oceans.
We are not inhibition.
We are the exhibition
We are the sun that brings power to everything we face.
We got this, people. We are the human race
growing stronger in this nest while spreading our wings,
working arm and arm together
in order to change things
with liberation, concentration, and initiation
that we are a declaration to #BeFree.
Yes, this poem sings.
We are the fresh air, you see,
the mad-hatters, the ice-cream, the cantaloupe,
and the intergalactic chatter striving to cope in a kaleidoscope
of honey, Reese’s Peanut Butter ups, and Earl Gray tea.
Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do.
Yo. We must undo the idiotic shackles
& be ready to step to the Mic,
tiptoeing with imagination through the roses,
& showing ‘em what our lives ‘be’ like,
stopping to smell the two lips
that bring voice to the wireless baton,
releasing negativity from proverbial caves,
and so on
and so on
and so on.
We must teach one another that language is our power,
& bring our souls what it craves without ever going sour,
& light the oral fuse with our magical wand to empower
a transmission, an amplification, an exhibition,
an implication & a declaration
that our truth is being written for the ignorant to read.…
Today, we release lyrical birds with what we speak, think, and bleed,
into a cacophony, a symphony and a harmony to #BeFree,
both You & Me, who have dedicated Writing Our Lives
together.
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