Give Me Yellow Give Me Gold

Next to the almighty Fugi, I'd say Opal Apples are my favorite.

They're expensive,  which has always made me grumble, I nab a few apples any chance I get.

Give me yellow
Give me gold

Liquid beauty I behold..

Photos: Lady J in Lotus Pose © 2016

Hubris

"I like the word 'hubris'. Sounds like the name of a man who pretended to be a god and as punishment  was turned into a dog.  I should use it more."
--Anis Mojgani (Slam Poet)

Who Inspires You?

Those who are more dedicated than a tattoo.

I stole your church hat

TEDxEast - Sarah Kay-Poetess/Storyteller

One of my favorite slam poets, Sarah Kay on TED Talks.

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TEDxEast - Sarah Kay-Poetess/Storyteller - 2011

TEDxSFED - George Watsky

One of my favorite slam poets, George Watsky on TED Talks.


TEDxSFED - George Watsky - 2011

TEDxConcordiaUPortland - Anis Mojgani - Equal Parts Science and Magic

One of my favorite slam poets -- Anis Mojani on TED Talks.

TEDxConcordiaUPortland - Anis Mojgani - Equal Parts Science and Magic

Free air! Buddy Wakefield at TEDxUSU

I couldn't be more pleased to see that one of my favorite slam poets has made it to TED. Buddy Wakefield delivers with humor and grace a great TED talks.


Free Air! - Buddy Wakefield - TEDxUSU - November 7th 2012

Keeping it at Bay

At Bay
by Lady J 2012©

When all that shit comes back
the nail in the coffin
is having to get used to it fast

You Shook

You Shook
By Lady J 2012©

Laboratory-like conditions are not well received in the cells that make me.

1-2-3

1.2.3. 
by Lady J - 2012©

You're always counting
I said, breathe to three.

Arch

Arch
By Lady J  - 2012©

I am not your broken arrow
I am broken on my own
But I will fix some things tomorrow
and you will know I own a bow

Counting Is Good Today

Counting is Good Today
by Lady J 2012 ©

I forgot that we had seven seas and I focused on other numbers
You think the most important scenes 
are the ones that are hard to look at
Sometimes it's okay to not find meaning in the things that mean something to you

The Opposite of a To-Do List

The Opposite of a To-Do List by Lady J - 2012©

We are protective leaves, we are weird fishes. 
We are magnetic rocks, we are odd music. 
We are playful clapping, we are well wishes, we are postcards, we are trembling hands. 
We are amazing something or others, we are misplaced miracles, we are mad hammers, some are mad hatters. 
We are weather, we are victims of weather. 
We are poignant without exclamation, we are robbers of light. 
We are glasses of water, we are glasses that see, we are tiny dinosaurs, we are makers of things. 
We are humans who do too little, and animals who do too much. 
We are polka dot patterns who deny being whole. 
We are words when we're not busy with appearances. 
We are what we feel when we bare our feet. 
We are stubborn horns, we are breathing accordions. 
We are caves, we are big spaces that sleep. 
We are singing wannabes, we are fumbling Bambi knees, we are bees held by harnesses, we are drums without beat.
We are long lists that move, we hold our breath til' it no longer feels right.
We are performers who paint walls and wish we could fly.
We are the trumpets in our throats, the idea that hearts do more than beat.
We are boots that stomp out fire, we are the changers of time.
We are the winds that hate decision, we are the strides that truth our feet.
We are the danglers from high wire, we are the creaks that frighten children.
We are the fatigue that comes from wearing clothes for too long, we are the avalanche that we didn't see coming.
We are the ink that we forgot to tattoo, we are the messers of hair, we are who we are when no one else is around.
We are tired of hardship and we misunderstand ease.
We wonder if elephants dream, we like glittery things.
We believe clouds talk except when we're wishing they could.
We are a list a mile long, we are scrolls that can't be found.
We are alcohol that does too little, we are courage from sips of tea.
We are nautical romanticism, we are buriers of things.
We are tired of walking, but only when we're done sprinting across rooms.
We get scolded for barking, we are swallowers of moons.
We are turtles that hop, we are rolling eyes.
We are hot when they say it's warm, we are slivers of storm.
We are caravans, we are tantrums, we are sleepers, we are hoots, clicks and hollers.
We uncomfortable collars, we are poorly executed curtsies.
We are lightening that walks like ghosts
We are blushes, we are a little bit okay, we are things we don't wish to be.
We are unpredictable vacations, we are type writer messages.
We are napkin poems, mind altering air.
We are as many things as so many things but we are not just anything, not just anything.

"Pretend" by Buddy Wakefield

I'm a girl, who rarely cries, but yet I've cried three times this month. Frustrating, liberating, exhausting and confusing.

I've listened to this poem many times over years, but tonight it prompted crying spell number three. Below is an example of the brilliance that is slam poet, Buddy Wakefield.

Buddy Wakefield performing "Pretend" at Wordstock 2008 in Portland, Oregon

Pretend / On this side / There's a monkey
Makin' bass / In a jug / With'is tongue

Pretend / On this side / There's a pitch black woman / Dressed in a slow
tornado
Who looks so much like the night time / She almost turns blue in the sun
She's gonna carry us through this tune / With / Huntsville, Texas / And The
Soul-Lifters Gospel Choir.
That's my back-up diva.

Pretend / Behind me / There's just one / Big / Bang.

Now it's you.
Pretend yer just bein' yerselves.
Pretend ya live for a living.
Pretend / Inside yer skin / You've got a friend / Who's willing to give you
everything you ever wanted
In exchange for all you've ever been.

Pretend you're more obsessed with this moment / Less with the way it ends.

And / For a moment / Pretend / This is a plywood lemonade stand
With a sign on the front / It reads:
I got no more lemons / Just my OPINIONS / yours, for a DIME-A-DOZEN today
And they'll always be on the table / But only some gonna set ya free.

Now here's where I'll needya to believe
Please
Believe that here stands a man who pretends not to fall apart
Who gets so mad / His lips peel back / When we give out slack to the dark
Who gets so God-solid nervous / Yer gonnawannatalkabouttomorrowagain
That he'll pretend to stand and listen / With a sharp look on'is face
     While a monkey plays BASS / BASS
With a back-up diva / Pullin' back-up faith
For this one-man / Cross-universe / Relay race / To try and be more than
human
Beginning and ending / Moment by moment / Rolled over / Re-birthing again
Because history is repeating itself in record time, y'all,
And we gotta stop actin' like nothin's happenin'
When we've got 6-billion dawning truths setting 6-billion different suns on
you
But we 6-billion gods are all still up-in-arms over what it will cost to
follow through
So that YOU can be ME forever / My friend / At the same time I get to be YOU
So ya can rock me, Brother Rock
     And you can soothe me, Sister Soothe
Like one / Big / Bang -
Beause I don't believe the big bang really happened yet.
I think a small bang mighta went pffft.
But the big bang / Is just on its mark / Gettin' set
And is REALLY / Ready / To go
Kinda like a slow tornado / Growin' / Larger than 6-billion words
Movin' faster than a sky that flies farther away / From every square inch of
us racing birds -

It looks a lot like it would  if just / One brain / In the heart of this
place / Rose up
To the actual size / Of the actual voice / It actually contained
Into just 1 head / Singing just 1 song / With a word
     And 6-billion looks on its face -
To see a monkey play BASS / BASS
To feel a back-up diva / And'er back-up faith
Goin' off
Like one / Big

bang.

"B" by Sarah Kay

Sarah Kay performs her spoken word poem " B " at the Bowery Poetry Club, Summer 2008

Instead of mom, she’s going to call me “Point B”
Because that way she knows that no matter what happens, At least she can always find her way to me.
And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her hands
so that she has to learn the entire universe before she can say
“oh, i know that like the back of my hand.”

She’s going to learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face,
wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach,
but getting the wind knocked out of you is
the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.

There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry,
so the first time she realizes that wonder woman isn’t coming,
I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself.
because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers
your hands will always be to small to catch all the pain you want to heal,
believe me, I’ve tried.

And “baby,” I’ll tell her “don’t keep your nose up in the air like that, i know that trick,
you’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back
to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire
to see if you can save him or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place
to see if you can change him.”

But I know that she will anyway
so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate & rain boats nearby
because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.
Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix
But that’s what the rain boots are for
because rain will wash away everything if you let it.

I want her to see the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat,
to look through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pin point of a human mind.
because that’s how my mom taught me,
that they’ll be days like this,
“they’ll be day’s like this my momma said.”
When you open your hands to catch
& end up with only blisters & bruises,
when you step out of the phone booth & try to fly
& the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape,
when your boots will fill with rain & you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment
& those are the very days you have all the more reason to say “thank you,”
because there is nothing more beautiful than the way
the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline.

No matter how many times it’s sent away.
you will put the “wind” in win some lose some,
you will put the “star” in starting over & over.
no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute
be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.
& yes, on a scale of one to over-trusting
i am pretty fucking naive but I want her to know
that this world is made out of sugar.
it can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out & taste it.
“baby,” I’ll tell her “remember your mama is a worrier
but your papa is a warrior & you are the girl with small hands
& big eyes who never stops asking for more.”

Remember that good things come in threes
& so do bad things & always apologize when you’ve done something wrong
but don’t ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
your voice is small but don’t ever stop singing
& when they finally hand you heartbreak,
slip hatred & war under your doorstep
& hand you hand-outs on street corners of cynicism & defeat,
you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

More Thank You Think

More Thank You Think
By Lady J - 2012©

I cried

Not because I could relate

but because you could

Columbus (Was on to Something)

 (source)

Columbus (Was on to Something)
By Lady J 2012©

For all you know, I could be having a party in my head
Still my face lay flat
Columbus fell off the face of my body
and left it where it's at

Poe

(source)

I hope you get it

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