| new to the community |
[20 Jul 2006|07:28pm] |
I've been struggling with a tendency to make everything deep and tragic in my poetry, and in order to remedy that I've been reading lots of Ogden Nash and playing around with rhyme, which I used to avoid. Here is a political example, though my proficiency is still a little elementary.
Cursing on the radio
is a barbarous activity
And the human form, you know,
must remain hidden in captivity
Only a malicious malcontent
could speak ill of the President
And ending pregnancies, I say,
is uncouth, as of yesterday
But relax, you sadists and villains
for whom suffering's sweet as candy
America's got good news, my friends:
Torture's fine and dandy!
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[09 Mar 2006|11:11pm] |
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[17 Feb 2006|11:16pm] |
Hey; I'm new...I'm so glad to have found this community, even though it doesn't seem too active, but maybe all it needs is some new members.
I'm Mike, I'm a 17 year-old poet/poetry lover from Memphis, TN. I consider myself a radical; and sometimes people (especially since I'm in the south!) see some of my beliefs as too radical; in particular my views on abolishing gender, abolishing marriage/monogamy, and rexamining sexuality.
My idols; in no specific order are Oscar Wilde, Emma Goldman, Phil Ochs, and Woody Guthrie.
If you want to know anything else; just ask.
Here's a poem. LJ cuts are not working right now, so sorry for the long post.
We'll take our home land back,
And live as we did in days of old,
We'll sleep under the tall trees,
And build a fire when it turns cold.
There won't be any authority,
Because there will not be any need,
Because the land we're going to make,
Is free from jealousy, hate and greed.
We'll destroy the highways,
And burn the skyscrapers down!
We will use the remaining ashes,
to fertilize the ground.
Then we'll grow our own food,
and help those who aren't able,
Because the hateful nature we have now,
Will be regarded merely as a fable.
Kids will gather around the elderly,
and hear tales of society's creation,
And hear the horrible tales of when,
Earth was ruled by corporations.
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| New Spoken Word Track: "Simply Trying" |
[17 Feb 2006|10:49pm] |
My newest track is up on www.myspace.com/warbleandrant . "Simply Trying" is a poem about what I have been learning during my Americorps fellowship. Over the last four an a half months I have been serving low income population living with HIV/AIDS in Durham, NC. My clients are 98% African American. The other two full time staff people in my office are African American, as are our three interns and my supervisor. All of my volunteers are African American except for a random Duke student coming in for a day every few weeks.
So, I find myself in a really humbling opportunity to both serve people who have been punished for being a racial minority while experiencing being the same in my office environment. I am not saying that my experience is in any way as severe. It has given me a few insights, and for that it is of value. I would never say that a white guy working in a mostly African American environment sees nearly the amount of racial bias as if the roles were reversed, please don't think that's what I am trying to say. It's just helpful to learn more about the system of racism.
I hope you listen to what I have learned so far. I hope that you appreciate it for what it is and wish it didn't need to be said.
-Roo
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| FREE SPOKEN WORD POEM DOWNLOAD |
[13 Jan 2006|08:47pm] |
This is not so much a political poem, but very much in tune with major social issues.
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"Clamor," a track from my CD, Warble and Rant, is now available for free download on myspace at www.myspace.com/warbleandrant.
"Clamor" is a spoken word poem about rape and sexual assault. It's true to my own experience as a survivor of such a crime. At some points haunting, this work deals with emotions which surfaced in the first year after my assault. These words are not always easy to listen to. Sometimes they are difficult to say, but I must say them. It is my hope that if we start talking about our experiences with sex crimes we will heal ourselves and our communities. Listen to this poem. Pay attention. For the sake of all those survivors of rape or sexual assault, and for all those at risk in the future. Listen to what these crimes do to people. Think about why our society instigates these crimes and have an opinion about it. I can't tell you what that opinion should be, but I can share with you mine.
According to legal reports over 99% of reported rapes are committed by men. Between 8-11% of victims are male. This means that about 90% of the time sex crimes have a male attacker and female victim. I am a male survivor of sexual assault (legally men cannot be considered "raped" in North Carolina). Though my poem covers my experience, I often speak about sex crimes as a male on female crime because it is most often the case. Please take that into account. I am not saying all rapists are men, nor am I saying the opposite about all victims. Also, it is important that I recognize that fact that my statistics are based on criminal reports. I did not report my assault. Many do not report their assault. The time after an assault can be very confusing. A lot of emotions are imposed by society and our own self-analytical nature. Rape statistics are obviously affected by these social trends.
I think that in our society men are raised to acquire as much power as they can in their lifetime. Power is defined differently for each of us. For some that creates a powerless feeling if we are not as successful as others expect us to be. Sometimes if we are not as successful as our own expectations. For some guys it is the arrogant thought that they can have anyone or do anything without consequences, sometimes it's the opposite. Often it is because men feel so out of control that they rape and assault to feel in control of some situation. Both of these feed off of the fact that women devalued in society. When the media most often presents women as sex symbols it reinforces some fucked up historic notion that women have no other primary function. If men are raised to think that women have no value it is easy to piece together the reasons why men feel comfortable with and entitled to control women. And when you step back from that it becomes apparent why men would rape or sexually assault other men as well.
The question now isn't what can society do to change. It is, what can I do to change myself and society?
I hope this poem inspires those changes for you and everyone you share it with.
You can listen to other tracks from Warble and Rant and check out my blog on my page, as well as download my song "Over One Head In." If you like that, check out my storefront at www.lulu.com/roo where you can view and purchase my CD as well as my book, "Boy Parts." Several single track downloads are also available. I'm not just saying this to sell more music, though I would admit it'd be nice. I'm saying it because we might just improve ourselves if we keep informing ourselves about important issues rather than having someone else do it for us. So, if someone will listen, I will speak. If someone else will speak, I will listen.
-Roo
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| "While You're Gone" and "Bloodied Knees" |
[05 Jan 2006|01:53am] |
Two tracks from my demo CD "Warble and Rant" are now available for individual download for only $0.50 each.
The original version of "While You're Gone" (available for preview on www.myspace.com/warbleandrant) and the unedited version of "Bloodied Knees" (performed on WCOM 103.5 Fm's West End Report) are both available at www.lulu.com/roo.
If you have yet to hear any of my work, I hope you'll drop by my page and check it out.
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| Roo on the radio tonight. Listen via the web. |
[30 Dec 2005|01:09pm] |
Hey guys,
I am a spoken word artist from Raleigh, NC. You may have read some of my work on here. I just wanted to share that I will be performing tonight on 103.5 WCOM FM from 6:00-6:30 PM. It is a small community radio station out of Carrboro, NC. If you are not in listening range you can stream the show from the internet at http://communityradio.coop.
I will be reading three pieces and discussing them and their relevance to life. Most of my work is driven by politics or social issues...so remember...I'm liberal. I will be reading a brand new poem as well. You could be one of the first to hear "Simply Trying" performed.
This is a really exciting experience for me, so I hope that you are able to join me for it wherever you are. I would love to hear back from people who have listened with commentary.
If you're unable to listen, but would like to know more about my work please visit my artist page at www.myspace.com/warbleandrant. You can read about what I'm doing with art, both visual and oral. There are three tracks from my demo CD available for listening on this page. Or you can visit my storefront at www.lulu.com/roo and pick up a copy of my CD ("Warble and Rant") OR book (Boy Parts) in either downloadable digital format or physical copy.
Thanks,
Roo
warbleandrant@aol.com
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| My Storefront |
[22 Oct 2005|09:22pm] |
I have updated my storefront on www.lulu.com/roo .
You can now download an mp3 of my political spoken word piece, "Bloodied Knees" ($0.75). You can also purchase my demo CD, "Warble and Rant," in a physical copy ($7) or in digital format ($3). And don't forget that you can still purchase my book, "Boy Parts," in a physical copy ($12.36) or for download ($4).
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[19 Oct 2005|02:24pm] |
Don't ever say that my tongue is silver
My tongue is a blade of damascus
sharpened on my whetstone teeth
Molten lead for my saliva
I lick my lips with the blood of bullets yet to be fired
powered by the gunpowder from my lungs
I'm a walking gatling gun
my words are rated by muzzle velocity
softnose, hollowpoint, tungsten core, steel jacketed
paragraphs are clips and stories are magazines
My ideas are the phosphorus in the incendiary rounds
that find homes peircing bloated gas-bags
I'm the weapon that remembers every lie
I'm the glimmering bayonet reflecting the sun
that blinds the eyes of those who curse the light
of love and truth
of those who'd burst into flames when like ants
under a magnifying glass the scorn and attention
of those they conspire against are
shown the full extent of their subterfuge
I am banned by all states
I fearless and armor peircing
I am blind and all-destroying
I am the final expression of five hundred years of wrath
I am the backlash, I am the blowback
I am the recoil, I am locked and loaded.
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| A Whisper |
[22 Aug 2005|02:16pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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A Whisper
Smog rose from the horizon
like a great dust devil
synaster breath
a clandestine smoke screen
a monstrous aura
and concealing the other kingdom
a kingdom of the desert
LA and Vegas --
lush mirrages for the hard in heart
...and one solitary bush found water
within the desert
and is life
many found dust in the city
and are drunk on dirt
crystal drop of dew
fresh and cool
praying hills
the quest of quills
Hermits danced and dying
with the dust devils on the edge of time
follow the sweet acrid road to nowhere
He was here all along:
a rainbow before the rain
a feather in the clouds
...just a whisper out loud.
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| Race the Road |
[22 Aug 2005|01:40pm] |
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mood |
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Race the Road
Evil lies in a jagged Aura
The lines are balanced on pitchforks
in the hands of devils,
devils holding power
that wraps the earth
MS is not posssible for this brain
Cars, horses, neurotransmitters
flood the synapse
graze the fields
race the roads
up the mountains
out to sea
outer space
space between
between rocks and turtle shells
ringing bells
echoing wells
filled with wishes
of smooth faced cherubs
dreams in a carriage.
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| Ad |
[11 Jul 2005|09:28pm] |
(my TV Ad)
if you got something interesting to say -
I'd like to hear.
LINK
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[23 Apr 2005|08:18am] |
Dear Humans,
You say you're not ready for the end,
but here it is: My Apocalypse.
Deal with it
Reel with it
Feel with it
Heal with it
I will rise from the ashes,
more beautiful than ever.
I'll be here,
you'll be gone.
I won't miss you,
I'll move on.
This is My Apocalypse,
you've brought about the change.
All I can say is thank you.
You and I were one,
but you neglected me,
abused me.
I didn't need a name,
but you forced many onto me:
Mother Earth, Nature, Gaia.
You see devastation,
but I see My Apocalypse.
Evolution,
revolution.
It's the only
true solution.
The only way that I could escape from this toxic relationship was to allow you to destroy me. And now you have.
It's My Apocalypse. Mine and only mine.
Love,
the organic energy bubbles collectively known to your people as Mother Earth
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[04 Jan 2005|08:00pm] |
A lot of people sit around pissed of at what goes on in the world, what goes on within our government, the way our society is structured so that it benefits those who have money, and those who want to live their life in a way where they dont exploit society, the people that want to live a lifestyle where they are socially conscious, can never reap the benefits of what our society defines as success, things such as money and power, things that can only be achieved by taking money, power, labor, and the humanity out of the humans. but the time to sit around and talk about the giant corporate boot that is being rammed further up our ass is no more. It is time to take action and I mean put in the extra effort take the extra risks, and fight against the injustice and terrorism of our institutions. everyday the risks we have to take to fight this machine get greater, the damage to our earth gets greater, the gap between the rich and the poor gets wider and the corporations grip on humanity, the media, the government, and the rights of the people living in a democracy get tighter and tighter. Evidently the corporations and the conservatives are winning the fight for america, and in the long run the conquering of a militaristic US empire.
and what are we as conscious human beings doing to stop this, pretty much not enough. thats not to say that there is no resistance movement toward the societal betterment of mankind, its just that the fighting is scattered and there is no coordination between groups and organizations. which is why I'm starting this livejournal group in which we dont just talk we also organize, the aim of this group is to notify people of movements locally that they can take part in, to give ideas, to share inspirational stories that make people want to mobilize, organize, and humanize. the aim of this group is for it to become big enough so that you can find people in your area that also fight for the same cause you do because one of the biggest things that holds people back from organizing, is the simple lack of other people to organize with. In comparison to other more internally facist countries (america being more externally facist) the ability of the people to excercise their democratic and constitutional right to bring about change is rather high though dwindling by the day, which is why it is imperative that we take on our role as global citizens and become the new majority. Today I looked through livejournal antiwar groups, political science groups, anarchist groups, punk groups, activist groups and the promise in numbers is enough to inflict change and make a difference, all it takes is organization on a more largescale basis.
so join this group that hopefully with more organization can become more that a livejournal group
but a movement of citizens fighting for the sustainability of humanity.
 humanmajority join
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| Latest Stanza |
[25 Oct 2004|05:19pm] |
Damaged Goods
Wordcount: 38
Warning: Be forewarned that before you click the link to this short poem, I DO happen to have a stats tracker, meaning I'll know who you are and where you clicked from. Please DON'T make me hunt you down for some feedback, because I will do so the moment I notice you on my statslog. Say you want, a "you suck; leave the forum; please quit while you're a head" will do at least... Anything's better than nothing at all!
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| Learned To Choke |
[15 Oct 2004|04:46am] |
This is a very conceptual spoken word piece. The meter is all over the place and the messages...or imagery...or whatever....could be stronger. I'll just call her an evolutionary poem, but I will introduce her to the world now.
Learned To Choke
Her body was heavy afterward. Limp, but tense.
Her right arm was broken from being beaten against.
Her head hung low,
And her left arm grew colder
with the change of summer to fall
and the rest of it all.
Her body lay there, face down, unable to move.
Unable to gather itself up and move on.
Her body had been raped. She was left shaking and crying.
Not united she lay, with a sad but still patriotic song.
Blood soaking her hair, which now got in her eyes.
All of her senses were compromised.
Her right hip feels a Latin beat, but cannot move
because it also feels the pain of unjust death and hypocrisy's groove.
There is a pain in her left side as the people of Michigan are promised relief,
they will never actually get to see.
Her right arm, still sore and broken cannot even move to clutch
her side in some sort of comforting touch.
In a fury or rage
she finds enough strength
only to roll over on her side
To hide
Her broken insides.
A man penetrated her most prized possession
at the podium of personal interest.
All the while keeping an eye on the plot for power
Which now became his mistress.
Her breasts are swollen and tender after being clawed at,
I know all about it.
I live in Raleigh.
Her only nice tattoo was on her shoulder,
and even that was somehow ripped from her flesh
as her attacker held her on her stomach and had his way with her body.
Now she lays there on her side sobbing through the vomit and blood and bile.
Saliva dripping from her mouth as her head rests on the cold floor tile.
She doesn’t even have any friends to call.
No one at all.
No one to help her off of the ground of her crime scene.
She would have been fine if she just hadn’t been raped, but now she has been.
Her belly is sore from the intrusion of big business taking away her mom and pop shops,
because that is where the buck stops.
And so many men are blaming her for the problem
instead of the society she lives in.
They blame anyone and everyone for her bodily contortion
and still maintain she shouldn’t have the abortion.
Because they can kill a man in Texas, but she cannot take her life back.
Get rid of her uninvited guest and get herself back on track.
No, that would be horrible.
So we all must stand up for her whether we like the girl or not, because something bad has just happened and no matter how you feel about her, she should not be laying in a pool of her own urine and filth because someone else decided
he wanted inside and
went for it.
There are at least one thousand one hundred and thirty-eight reasons why
we cannot just turn our cheek.
At least eleven hundred reasons lost so far that can no longer stand up and speak.
And this may or may not be an opinion.
But shouldn’t we all stop raping her
if we’re working at saving her?
In a world where every Maxim Magazine represents a thought,
whether you choose to believe it or not,
there are mistakes being made
under the guise of being saved.
And I am forced to breathe them in as others breathe them out.
As racist, sexist, homophobic words drop out of their mouths.
They used to be shoved down my throat
until I learned to choke.
So now I take a stand
Jump in to work with both hands
because her body is limp and brittle and broken and blue
and because she’s been calling out to you.
With all of her friends gone she cannot sit up
without you taking your eyes off of that misogynist pin-up.
She needs the death toll to stop growing
but the troops keep going
and growing weary of a war they were not supposed to start.
And then rises her heart.
Watching the White House minions raping her.
Telling her that she was to blame.
Blaming her face, or her skirt, or her sultry frame.
Making up stories, like unneeded toys made by mass marketed Christmas elves.
And her heart turns to me, knowing my opposition
to our administration
and says, "You cannot only blame her Bush. You must also blame yourselves."
Why didn't we save her?
Why
didn't we rise
up?
Why weren't we blatant and big and bold and brazen,
taking back the good of the world we were raised in?
Well, the answer is we were,
but we fell into a safety net.
We were bot ready for victory,
because we're not angry enough yet.
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| this is america |
[05 Oct 2004|07:46pm] |
THIS IS AMERICA
images of deserts
and camouflage
break through the static
as armchair patriots
spill their buds
yelling terrorist
down at the 7/11
the turbaned cashier
gasps his last breath
as white hands and black masks
dash out the door
and this is america
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