Cornered by a Mic and Pen

Walking through West End, on a Sunday, as you do. I made a quick stop to see Chris Philips and say hi while he does his show. Like I mentioned before, he has a great show featuring the best in Neo Soul, real R&B and classic soul music, and more recently, a Words Manifest feature in which he plays a piece from a poet, and obviously, I love that bit!Anyway, so as soon as I get past the mob of screaming Wanted fans outside the studio, I’m greeted by Chris Philips who, before we even reach the booth says "What a coincidence, my poet dropped out, you wanna do your piece live, on air?"

Chris and I have already had a conversation in which he aired that he is very unhappy that I’m not doing bigger things with my poetry, and U should be getting on stages and ishk! The phrase that stuck with me the most from that conversation was "Do now, doubt later"; so taking that into consideration, I thought, why not?

So yeah, with 10mins preparation time, I edited the poem, sat in front of a mic, and... Yea, I doubted after afterwards because my deliverance could have flowed better. But hey, I’ve done it now, and my poem was heard by potentially 1000's of people.I'm actually gonna get on a stage on Saturday at a place called Mekan Bar in Catford. An event called Mixed Messages has a slot for me.

So yeah, I’ll be there! For your listening pleasure (...or pain, ha-ha), My Right to Write via SoundCloud.

http://soundcloud.com/chrisphilips/symone-poetress-on-choice-mar-13-2011?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=facebook&utm_content=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fchrisphilips%2Fsymone-poetress-on-choice-mar-13-2011

A big thanks again to Chris Philips for believing in me :)

literal orgasm

I kissed poetry again last night
another page turning experience to bring to the mic
This unused paper was my canvas for every secret thought
where I could sit and release my pen
without thoughts of getting caught.
Slowly
seductively, I join with my black ink pen

Preparing mentally,
physically,
emotionally to discharge these feelings within
Ink spilled from my pen,
little by little-
covering the page
becoming one with literacy
kissing the paper with love
hateand thoughts of Rage.

It excited me, calmed me
with every thought of every letter
leaving me exhausted
gripping my bic, the tip getting wetter and wetter.
I didn’t want to at firstbut my soul was being nursed
emotions quenched my hunger and obeyed my thirst
...
First with awkward long strokes
and pause.s ...
in between
to....
ponder
then letting my thoughts guide my hands
as they begin to wonder...

I gave my inhabitations that night
Nearly everything I had
I could hear Usher in the wind
telling me I’ve Got It Bad.

No longer pure or innocent
but I can stand to be poetically deflowered ‘
coz I needed,
craved,
dreamt about that night
until minutes became hours.

What more can I say about this
PoeticPassionatePromiscuousPlace
when
PenetrationPerfectlyPleasured me,
without means of Penis orPussy,
but by means of Paper & Pen
that had me
leaking on my endless sheets
emotionally exhausted, yet
secretly craving for more.
That now may be in the past
but the experience feels closer and closer-writing and writing out of spaceconstantly flipping pages over.


But to stop writing, I could never phantom
never forgettingmy first literal orgasm.

Grown Too Soon

My Child,

He once told you

"You want to be a lady?
You must act & even pretend.
Because some of the events you engage in
will determine if we ever meet again”

Even to hear your mum laugh
or to see your dad smile
’coz now your grown before your time...

now that ship has gone -

sailed on by.
Always close enough to the waters
claiming you know how to swim
but your eyes weren’t even open
to see when that boy had pushed you in -
splashing, delaying your weight taking you deeper

"Hey lil’ girl, I thought you were a swimmer?!"

My child, I’m sure you were happier
when you didn’t "need" a man
but now, you have no choice
but to be alone.
Should have practiced safe sex
by keeping him on the other end of the telephone.
But instead, you laid on your back and became bitch
to this dog, and threw him a bone
and it’s now you who suffers
by taking more than the memories of that night home.

My child, life is now cut short,
death celebrating your bitter divorce
from common sense, in the court of good wisdom
and judgment
because you spent too much time "growing" to
judge man.

Now, as you sit as child,
with child
accessing the roots of many problems
remembering when he said
he didn’t want to use a condom.
You now wish you exercised some discipline
and caution
’cause now your only option
is for you to have an abortion,
cause your life is about to be aborted soon
cause your good eggs cant even fill a tea-spoon-
not able to be around after May
for your family reunion in June,
not able to hear your unborn daughter sing about the cow jumping over the moon
or the dish running away with the spoon.
All because you

was in a rush

to grow up

too soon.