Slam Poetry! (HEART 2022)

whole health. women. art.

SLAM POETRY! May 12, 2022

ARTISTS &

READINGS

JAMMIE TRIMBLE In the Know 4 I Write 5

KATHIJUNE BRUYERE Phoenix on the Rise

8

I’m Sorry

8

A Real Love 9 Allusions

9

Back in the Day

10

Can You?

10

Emo Goddess Supreme

11

I Can’t Make You Love Me

11

ARTISTS &

READINGS MELISSA HOWELLS

continued

A Girl is More Than a Beautiful Box

12

I Long for Stars

14

It's Hard to be Uncool

16

RED O’HARE Golums

18

KELLY MAYS Funny—A Survivors Story

THANK YOU MEGHAN CAUGHEY is also featured in to-

night's presentation with a reading from her award-winning memoir Mud Flower: Surviving Schizophrenia and Suicide Through Art. Her memoir is available for purchase in paperback and as an audiobook.

19 20

JAMMIE TRIMBLE

Page 4

IN THE KNOW WRITTEN & READ BY JAMMIE TRIMBLE

I get this uncannyness about my insides when I don’t know.

They say you don’t know what you don’t know but I wanna know.

I can’t detail how my feelings start a trip over each other as I climb up the wall inside of myself.

Some say what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

My history is predicated on not knowing.

I have to know.

When you don’t know how you know you just know never knowing you knew before today.

Never really paying attention to what they say.

But trying to make it through this life with my sanity intact.

My skin is black.

Never really fully aware of all there was or is to unpack.

Man this is whack!

Nonetheless, we roll along, we got to get a stroller to the beat, with our feet.

Because not knowing takes a death tolling on you.

You have not because you ask not, says the Lord.

I am reminded that I have not been placed here without help.

I can do it. I will do it!

I know where to go and what to do. Today I have access and true privilege.

I can use it.

Today I must know!

Knowledge is power and I want all of mine.

What you don’t know can kill you.

I will not give away that which was sacrificed for me to have.

Walk with me, oh dear Lord talk with me.

I wanna know.

Page 5

I WRITE WRITTEN & READ BY JAMMIE TRIMBLE

As I sit here, I write.

Thanking about who, why, what, when, where, and how, I write.

Trying to subside my anger from the frustrations and resentments inside, I write.

Thinking about how I got here and why, I write.

Learning to love in a new way, makes me write.

I think about being triggered to anger, eager to hold resentments and build up silent hurts without being able to write.

I mean literally at a standstill in life, pondering my fate, I didn’t write.

Depressed, defeated, demoralized, dehumanized, downtrodden, and just demeaned by life. I stand still. I stand so steel, my body starts to ache at my joints, my ankles burn, my calves twinge, my feet throb, my head migraines, while my heart flutters, and my sweat glands cry out. I want to die.

Die to just be able to put a period at the end.

To put the big looming question mark and her big brother uncertainty to rest.

To end the chase of me racing after sanity as if it were God. To live and lose things and people you hold dear is so hard to handle. So I write.

I want to understand so I read inquire and write.

I Write | Cont. Pg. 6

I WRITE

JAMMIE TRIMBLE

Page 6

I feel demonized by the very systems and people I hold near and dear to my heart.

I got a write because I ain’t being heard and I’ve been looked over for so long, I don’t even see myself.

I just gotta write this. I got to get it out of me.

It’s poisoning my insides and programming me to die a slow and emotionally and physically excruciatingly painful death.

I’m writing to preserve my creative spirits as they excitedly thrive inside of each of my writing fingers on my right hand. I write. I see a vision in the distance, one of happy and prosperous times. To fulfill, I write.

I must speak into myself what I need for myself, separate from the family. Trying to write.

I need to be able to defend myself in a way that has love for others higher than for myself and open mindedness.

I’m writing to pull out the negative and make it positive. I’m writing.

I want my family to understand my moral character and not question it. They need to write.

I Write | Cont. Pg. 7

Page 7

I want my community to understand the entirety of my role as a black woman, mother, and protector and respect it. They all need to write.

I want the enemy to be expose for who he or she is and accountability to be had, even if it’s on my part.

I write to release the anguish inside that is tormented by being wrongly accused from one side to the next. They see my reaction but they don’t understand my story, yet they judge and punish severely. Writing frees me. No one can hold me back when I’m writing. I write to tell a story that’s not being told. I right so I can thrive and not fold. I write!

The author, Jammie Trimble

KATHIJUNE BRUYERE

Page 8

PHOENIX ON THE RISE WRITTEN BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE READ BY ERIN MERCER

Awe you poor thing You lost your power over me You showed your hand You have nowhere to stand I am not a simple person who still believes in your lies I am a phoenix on the rise You tried to school me, teach me how to play your game but darling open your eyes and learn to recognize I don't need your lessons because on this game I wrote the book.

You left me broken, bleeding and bruised Burning with a newfound rage and that's okay though because after I shake off these old and tired ashes I will rise up stretch my wings to the heavens and feed your bones to the masses.

In case you have forgotten I am a phoenix on the rise

I'M SORRY WRITTEN & READ BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE

I'm sorry need I'm sorry I'm sorry dream I'm sorry I'm sorry

for loving you when my love is more than you for crying when my tears don't solve anything for feeling like you were more than just a for believing in a love that is true I thought I meant anything to you

Page 9

A REAL LOVE WRITTEN & READ BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE

Little girl always crying tossed aside like no one sees all she needs is real love Little boy falls from heaven Hits the ground running and he can't see all he needs is real love Toxic love is all we know Raised us up and helped us grow Now we're lost and we can't see All we need is real love Drugs and alcohol to ease the pain Nobody around even knows your name Dazed and tired you begin to see all you need is real love Your heart is broken Your soul feels crushed You are not alone so Hold your head up high Turn around and see all you need is real love

ALLUSIONS WRITTEN BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE READ BY ELAINA MCKNIGHT

I was only in love with the illusion of you What my heart believed you alluded to Now that the scales are finally cleared from my eyes I see you behind the lies You were never who I needed you to be You were never the person who was meant for me I played with fire and admit I got burned I will survive and acknowledge that the scars are well earned this battle is over and the lesson finally learned

KATHIJUNE BRUYERE

Page 10

BACK IN THE DAY WRITTEN BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE READ BY ROSHAAN ROGERS

When I was young and had no idea what life was about honeysuckle grew wild in our backyard and the smell of honeysuckle still pulls me back to a simpler time when families gathered for Sunday suppers, music serenaded in the background and children laughed and played and were not afraid and couples danced and swayed and didn't care who saw the passion in their eyes as they clung to each other in a sweet embrace

CAN YOU? WRITTEN BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE READ BY CHRISTINA DYNAMITE

Can you plant something?

Can you sow something?

Can you harvest after you grow something?

Can you see something?

Can you hear something?

Can you feel it to your core?

When you know something?

Can you hope something?

Can you dream something?

Can you change your entire life when you finish something?

Can you love something?

Can you need something?

Can you bring a person to their knees?

When you leave something?

Can you hear the babies cry?

Can you feel the angels sigh?

Can you reach beyond the veil?

Can you open the gates of hell?

Can you whisper in God's ear?

Can you stand up and face your fears?

Can you do it all alone? Or can you help me find my way home?

Page 11

EMO GODDESS SUPREME WRITTEN BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE READ BY ERIN MERCER

I am not an emo queen Honey I am the Emo Goddess Supreme I will absolutely bleed all kinds of feelings over every single one of your dreams You think you can comprehend the drama I invoke and seconds later you are caught up in the smoke and mirrors, delusions and lies Oh I am not always so crazy and extreme Treat me right and show me how much you care and I will still be more than you need I know I can be toxic and scary but I can also guarantee that life with me will never be boring

I CAN'T MAKE YOU LOVE ME WRITTEN & READ BY KATHIJUNE BRUYERE

I can't show you what I'm worth I can't open your eyes and make you realize how much your indifference hurts I can't just swallow my emotions I can not shrink this heart of mine I can't make you love me if loving me is not on your mind The author, Kathijune Bruyere

MELISSA HOWELLS

Page 12

A GIRL IS MORE THAN A BEAUTIFUL BOX WRITTEN BY MELISSA HOWELLS READ BY NEJAY JOHNSON

a girl is more than a beautiful box some girls wear halos some girls wear spikes not on their feet but in their hearts high perched on my head is a lighthouse beam of yellow circulating around me an eye of detection and protection I won't be can't be the beautiful box can't be the drooping flower looking for water its simply un-do-able unsustainable where and who is the water to quench my thirst who'll give it to me if I'm no longer beautiful where is the vase that would support me what if that vase cracks, breaks apart my goal is to rise stand up on my own resilient where are the words not laced with approval/disapproval sometimes the speakers leave

Page 13

and make their little fast breaks leaving and inconstant a girl can't be a beautiful box I won't be one I must be singularly solidified and sound able to stand in the wind able to resist and ignore the usual misnomers and labels I've been who I am and stepped lightly and tip-toed but with steel toes barely leaving an imprint my instep only traceable the way a lightning bug leaves a brief tarail in the dark I don't need a box nor words I know who I am beneath and even deeper let my rose wilt and my yellow dandelion rise sending out many-golden-blooms from my shoots let me create new words and a world in which I spread near and wide golden haired and glowing my spikey harbinger of my many-Springs a snowing of seeds in the breeze landing on fertile ground in this way scatter my halo my spikes all over and round so that I might find joy in myself my re-creation....

MELISSA HOWELLS

Page 14

I LONG FOR STARS WRITTEN BY MELISSA HOWELLS READ BY PARI MAZHAR

I long for stars hearing the whistle of far off trains brisk night breezes the opening of doors to familiar faces uncomplicated circumstances and nights of endless uninterrupted sleep and waking up feeling sated with dreams I can remember to live I long for stars and the thought of not worrying about what remains how I could take that whistling train to somewhere and not be afraid the comforting change of seasons the anticipation of what more might happen the adventure in near and distant places the uncomplicated circumstances of nights spent dancing and talking with my dearest friends Living like I’m dreaming so much time still ahead An equal number of ears behind and in front of me oh there’s still more time to dream in the present is a gift open to me I long for stars How they deliver me Directly to hope

Page 15

They help me focus and feel so not alone Keep it all shrunk down to my own manageable humanity but now I’m getting older the stars I long for are dimmer farther away and Much harder to see how they seem More paired to eternity and to those faces who were one familiar who’ve now become much dimmer they’re distant constellations far away and gone from me But how I’ve longed for stars how I hoped to reach them how I wanted to be one of them how I long for stars

MELISSA HOWELLS

Page 16

IT'S HARD TO BE UNCOOL WRITTEN BY MELISSA HOWELLS READ BY ANN'DREA VAUGHN

Organically forever shy.

With tangled hair that's me oh my Sittin in a chair that doesn't fit I tried to talk but could only spit.

My friends they called me cousin it It's hard to be uncool in school Very hard in school to be uncool, Trippin over scuffed brown saddle shoes Flippin coins I'd always lose.

My brothers read my diary.

When the boys would flirt I'd have to pee.

It's hard to be uncool in school Very hard in school to be uncool.

My parents prayed that I would leave But, all I did was eat and heave Sittin' cross eyed in my little room Where I'd contemplate my doom and gloom Cuz, it's hard to be uncool in school It's so hard in school to be uncool.

My secret crush, he turned out gay.

At prom, we didn't have much to say We watched the pretty boys dance anyway How could my life turn out this way It's hard to be uncool in school very hard in school to be uncool I didn't shower with the other boys or girls

Page 17

Had no diamonds, studs or cultured pearls.

I'll give you just one wild guess You got it man.

I was a mess.

Cuz, it's hard to be uncool in school It's hard in school to be uncool.

They hoisted snug underwear over my head When the boys said hi wished I was dead.

All the other kids would stop gasp and stare See, I didn't go much of anywhere.

Cuz, it's hard to be uncool in school Very hard in school to be uncool So, if now or once you were uncool I dedicate this all to you Don't get angry Don't feel blue Cuz, I remember you I do. when you were uncool in school too.

The author, Melissa Howells

RED O'HARE

Page 18

GOLEMS WRITTEN & READ BY RED O'HARE

How many golems have I molded The clay of my fears, etched with truth on their foreheads they are clumsy and full of purpose.

My pottery pain lumbers down streets best left to memory.

Shall I make truth into death?

Erase the integral letter, Let them stand still?

Will I grieve them when stripped of service?

What will they become, monuments I've left in every city I've lived They flanked me for so long.

Earth made sentient, they have held me safe.

Can I let them rest, can they sleep knowing their purpose is done.

I am stronger now.

I needed them, then And I do not know how to tell them It is time to sleep.

The author, Red O'Hare

KELLY MAYS

Page 19

FUNNY— A SURVIVORS STORY

WRITTEN & READ BY KELLY MAYS

Trigger Warning this poem was meant to be a "funny" I tried to "think funny", "be funny", channel my inner comedian, write "funny" across a blank page Funny, like that time I broke my arm running from a squirrel, true story, funny I thought it was chasing me, funny it really wasn't, funny, I still believe the squirrel apocalypse is a thing, Funny, like the time a boy called me "fat", when I told him he was cute, I kept the joke going, kept his homeboys laughing, kept my waistline expanding inside the punchline, hoping they wouldn't notice it wasn't "funny."

Like that time I lost my wallet. I found myself at the grocery store, a cart full of baby formula.

Funny, the nice lady in line paid, funny I really didn't lose my wallet, funny, I didn't have enough money to fill my car and my child's belly, funny how life is, kept writing you will get to Funny | Cont. Pg. 20

KELLY MAYS

Page 20

funny, keep laughing, laughter is the only thing that will make this poem, funny.

Like that time I wrote my first haiku along the wall of my college dorm, funny, it was actually a suicide note, funny, no one noticed.

They say, the ones that laugh the most laugh the least, Robin Williams, Anthony Bourdain, my cousin, me.

The say laughter is the best medicine, if I keep writing maybe I'll be cured? If I keep laughing maybe I will be cured?

After all, what do you say to God, halfway through a prayer or a poem, a punchline, a suicide note?

Funny

The author, Kelly Mays

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