INSIGHT Vol. I Issue 13

fighting. obstacles. knowing. ultimate. success. www.onefokus.com

INSIGHT April 2006

Welcome! to the 13th edition of Insight magazine.

Featuring: Emma Raynor: photography Claire Forster: poetry “what we do in the summer” Isabelle Carbonell: photography Tara Bogart: poetry “Wasatch Front: Park City, Utah” Jillian Steinheur: poetry Marja Lankinen: photography “Call me Gypsy” Walter Lacy: poetry “Little Lady Soul” Melvin Larson: poetry “His Vision Haunts Me” Chamira Jones: visual art “His Vision Haunts Me” Tiffany Teasley: interview “Beat Smarts” Julio Jamal: music review, “Ne-Yo In My Own Words” Marja Lankinen: interview “Say Word.”

Editor: Marja Lankinen Founders:

Atiba Edwards Alma Davila-Toro

What we do in the summer.

My heart has a beat Like the swollen summer sun Blood flows from chest like solar flares jump rope and I lose the day inside the week in the months when my world is sunbathed I see the glisten around every curve.

I remember what its like to belong In the summer.

Me and goddess vibe to the rhythm of the molten cores in us.

I am humbled by mountains climbing behind me like an afternoon shadow because She is tectonic.

Summer is the season of clean slates Summer is be free time be battered by the tides be blazing seaweed out of sandcastles Be silent time This is what we do in the summer If you lace your eyelashes together tight like a corset binds ribs you can see Earth the way Sun does:

I held planet like blown glass casting sapphire light and like a prism She broke me Red to violet I am Scattered at the top of the her she was my womb I the pregnant goddess I could see my toes over the horizon I could feel her in the base of my spine.

Imagination is Two Venus fly traps Planted in my eye sockets Digesting Pupils soft as a fly’s wing.

This is what we do in the summer I find a mind 7 miles deep hidden behind the curve of the Earth swallow its seeds Let it grow a water-melon In my chest oceans bursting through the fault line staggered between my ribs splintered wide like an infant’s eye.

It isn’t often I find the mind To feel the weight Of the atmosphere On my back but Great Lakes reflect diamonds In sunset blues and emeralds colors that are momentary if you wear a clock around your neck count the ticks instead of beats from a grapefruit heart so I dropped the idea of “now” a second ago tied my spine to my wrist like the string of a balloon lifted thoughts strum the horizon caverns of sound drape my shoulders.

This is what we do in the summer. my legs turn back into tree trunks my hair back into jungle words back into sound into vibration I am first philosopher to realize Earth is round I am

first woman before mind was confined to skull. from up here I am creature Bending the planks Of a dock This is what warm skin does to the heart What empty calendar squares do to the mind What untying from the world does for me. this is what God’s hair must smell like 7 miles deep I have seen Earth and nearly fallen off I am saved by summer the sun makes me radiate makes me remember I can skip along planets When I am free as a child to imagine.

By Claire Forster

Wasatch Front: Park City, Utah Earth completes its annual revolution, winter greets Utah peaks with snow.

The mountains, once bare, grateful for its timely arrival, oddly resemble a human.

Ancient energy stirs evenly in both, although a human remains naturally interrupted by flaw.

A wise woman communing with the heavens, dressed in a white bonnet, glinting at the town tucked neatly in her lap.

A young trekker, posing beside her, clouds hanging around his mouth, inhaling cold air once exhaled by pinion pines.

A well-versed vagabond, rising with the morning light, spinning around in circles, sun in his eyes, snow gathering atop his worn, brown hat.

They whisper to each other hallowed secrets of verve, cleverly disguised in imperial crowns of snow

By Tara Bogart

i have finally learned to see with hazel eyes the graying ashes of the world around me the road to solitude paved with ancient stones of wisdom stepped on time worn weary the rise of senseless violence in the fall of woman – and the temples filled with white plaster cast golden calves desecrated in her image i have learned to hear a cry for womanhood in the hollow echoes of our dirty city streets. she is coming he prophesied in a book of poetry she is coming. the woman is coming because homeless men too need spirits to guide them and we have left them they have lost to the world. only the pavement. the woman is coming because the souls of black folk red folk purple folk white folk lay weeping over the bodies

the woman is coming because we of the world have shoved mother earth into the violent darkness of a deserted alley gun tight against her back we will rape her and beat her and steal all her money. the woman is coming because she must – because if she doesn’t come now it will be too late. she is coming he prophesied in a book of poetry she is coming and i forgot so easily like salt slips into the finest cut of a wound but i have been reborn i have been rebirthed i have finally learned to see and i know she. is. coming. the world was ending when i woke up this morning. i opened my eyes to unquenchable fires burning outside the shades of my being –

the world was ending in an unglorified blaze of sadness. but as i crawled into bed after each star had fallen silent and my eyelids closed under the weight of crystal tears the lady of the moon sang me a lullaby so gentle that the world began again. she is coming he prophesied and i tell you now she is coming because once i read burden in a mother’s hips saw pain and suffering in the way her belly rose and fell like ominous shadows but today i see the resplendent green of a hillside and a meadow that only dreams could contain i hold her baby less than 24 hours and i see the simplicity of the way things were meant to be i read hope in the way he closes his eyes closes his hands and eases life into the world with every breath.

she is coming with the expansion of rivers into oceans and contentedness into inspiration i tell you i tell him i tell we only the luckiest of prophets live to see their truths realized... she is coming bringing the world to me.

--jillian steinhauer

HIS VISION HAUNTS ME

By Melvin Larson Outside the Manhattan Chinese grocery, he confronted me, imploring: “I haven’t eaten anything in days!

Haven’t you some change you can give me, Mister?”

His blond hair was matted and his eyes were glazed. His outstretched hand shook.

The other held a battered portable radio – its plastic dials had been so often wrenched that they were long gone.

As we further spoke, I could tell he was mentally ill – perhaps schizophrenic, budget-released from some state hospital into inadequate foster care until he escaped into the streets.

He was pale and shivering.

He reached into a refuse container, grabbed a greenish, moldy slice of bread which he began to eat greedily.

I hastily gave him two dimes and a nickel. As I walked away, bewildered and guilty, he said, “Thanks, Mister!”

His vision haunts me.

How many more are there?

This poem, along with the illustration, is included in the book Days Forgotten: Poems, Prose, and Commentaries, written by Melvin Larson, illustrated by Chamira Jones.

For more information, email clynette@umich.edu, or visit Zoë Life Publishing at www.zoelifepub.com.

It will be available after April, but can be ordered in advance now.

Little Lady Soul Cold East Harlem Streets reaped the birth of a queen, who wears the love for her city on the sleeves of a university lettermen jacket.

The block ‘M’ reflective of 5 years Blood, sweat, and tears, given of her self to a system.

No, she beat the system by giving those years to the people she loved.

I damn-near fell in love the first time I saw her face, A stern scowl that seemed out of place on a girl so beautiful, But I realize now that it’s just a trademark.

Wrapped in a thuggish blanket, to shield her spirit From the Wolves that roam the yard.

I see right through the rugged demeanor, Because it’s hard to hide being a good woman (She stands out like a sore thumb).

An artist in every since of the word…

Flipped words over beat-boxes in the midst of an ill Remix She spit as if back at home Somewhere between 125th, and her throne.

Re-defining the translation of her name from Spanish, to English, and now to universal.

Exhales through pastels, crayons, and chalk.

There are moments where I can’t get many words out of her, But I can still hear her talk.

I’ve only known a few to walk in similar shoes.

If it would stop hers from hurting, I’d carry her on my back So that she didn’t have to move so much.

Bulging discs, dismissed as just another Obstacle to deal with, She stands as tall as 5’5 will allow,

Reminiscent of my Mississippi-born mother, Sometimes I call her mama On respect alone.

I say that because she’s strong, I say that because she’s strong, I say it because you deserve to hear it, Even if you already know.

From one to another, My heart to yours.

This is my ode, to Little Lady Soul.

By Walter Lacy

Beat Smarts

By Tiffany Teasley If you’ve witnessed LSA sophomore Brandon Green walking around campus with headphones and a yellow SpongeBob backpack, unlike most students, it’s probably not because he’s seeking a musical diversion on the way to class.

Since signing as a producer with Songbook, an imprint label of the esteemed Atlantic Records in March of 2005, Green has taken the music scene by storm, working with such hip hop sensations as Mike Jones, Peedi Crack, Baby and Chris Brown. After recently featuring his skills on Trey Songz’s debut album “I Gotta Make It” along with Texas rap sensation, Bun B’s debut solo album, “Trill,” the 19 year old producer, known as Bei Maejor continues to climb the ladder in the music industry.

uOriginally the song wasntt even on Trey Songzts album, but they heard it and thought it was hot, so they took a song off, in order to use minev Maejor said.

Somewhat of a natural talent, Maejor began making beats in High School by using a computer and experimenting with any equipment that he could find. Eventually, the combination of mixing various sounds and styles evolved his once tedious hobby into a full-blown career. Converting the basement in his home, into a make-shift studio, Maejor became determined to perfect his skills, often practicing into the waking hours of night. uMy mom used to tell me to go to sleep, and I would get in trouble for sneaking in the basement to make beatsv Maejor said. u I got obsessed with it.v

Growing up in Southfield, MI, Maejor began to work with local artists, developing his reputation as a serious producer. Soon after, a DJ got a hold of one of his mixed tapes and gave it to his current manager, Delante Murphy who eventually turned it over to world renowned producer, Troy Taylor.

Impressed by the newcomer’s natural ear for music, Maejor signed with the label within months.

Traveling to Los Angeles, New York, Washington D.C. and Miami, this past summer, Maejor’s schedule continues to become more hectic as his talent gains increased recognition. However, it’s not just fun and games for this star in the making, faced with weekly deadlines and assignments, Maejor is challenged with the arduous task of balancing school and his music on a daily basis. u I always have assignments and sometimes itts hard while being in school, but seeing that my success is growing, it just motivates me to keep going.v Maejor said.

Although his base music genre is hip-hop, Maejor’s style is unlimited as he explores versatility with his interest in pop, electronic and movie scores.

While Maejor has already reached the level of success that most producers would opt for, he still has dreams of one day joining the ranks of other top producers in the industry, such as The Neptunes, Just Blaze and Troy Taylor.

u9XO NKc O`O\cYXO aSVV UXYa ^RO XKWO ,OS 7KOTY\ v Murphy said, u>RS] S] T_]^ ^RO LOQSXXSXQ v You might ask how the name Bei Maejor was created. The concept began with the piano chord B Major, chosen to match his first initial. From there Maejor changed the spelling of Major in remembrance of his deceased Grandmother whose middle name was Mae. We can expect much more from this future music mogul known as Bei Maejor as he continues to produce tracks that are potentially hit records.

Already listed as one of the top 20 producers to look for in 2006 by str8hiphop.net, the sky is the limit for this rising star as he takes over the music industry one track at a time.

Ne-Yo

– In My Own Words

by Julio Jamal

In My Own Words is Shaffer C. Smith’s a.k.a. Ne-Yo’s first commercial release. The name Ne-Yo is derived from the character “Neo” of “The Matrix” films. To his accreditation he is a lyricist, comparable to a Donell Jones. Like Jones, Ne-Yo has written songs for many artists. He co-wrote Mario’s smash hit “Let Me Love You”, as well as songs for Mary J. Blige, Musiq Soulchild, B2K, Faith Evans, Christina Milian and Nivea. Production on the album was done by Curtis “Sauce” Wilson, Ron "Neff-U" Feemstar, Brian “B-Nasty” Reid, Ervin “EP” Pope, Shea Taylor, Boola, and Stargate. His lyrics and the well produced accompaniment force you to feel what he is saying.

In My Own Words has 12 tracks and a bonus track. Some of the stand out and dynamic tracks are “Stay”, “So Sick”, “When You’re Mad”, “It Just Ain’t Right”, “Mirror”, “Sign Me Up”, Get Down Like That”, and “Sexy Love”.

“Stay” feat Peedi Peedi is a track where he describes his feelings for a girl he is infatuated with.

“So Sick” is his smash single that talks about the feelings he still has for his ex-lover and how love songs invokes these feelings, which make him “so sick” of them.

“When You’re Mad” is a nice concept, he addresses his provoking of his lovers anger just to see her mad, which makes him feel passionately for her and leads to great sex.

“It Just Ain’t Right” is about him reminiscing on his prior relationship while he is involved in his current relationship. He calls his ex, who is also in a current relationship, to see if she does the same. This song is produced very well and there interpolation of Switch’s “I Call Your Name” which is the cherry on top of a great song.

“Mirror” is a song where he tries to convince his lover to make love in front of the mirror.

“Sign Me Up” sounds like it has elements of “The Best of Both Worlds”, it is a bounce track about his attempts to win a girls heart (contract).

“Get Down Like That” is a soulful track where Ne-Yo addresses a girl who wants him to cheat on his current girlfriend. The production on this track is full of soul, as is the sample they used to create the track.

“Sexy Love” sounds like a Michael Jackson song; it is about Ne-Yo being sprung out on the girl’s love and sex appeal. It is catchy and sounds great.

Though Ne-Yo may not possess the power vocals of a John Legend or Anthony Hamilton, he does have a distinct voice and singing range. Ne-Yo should not be compared to legends, however he is as good as his contemporaries Chris Brown and Trey Songz. Some of the cons of this album are some songs just seem repeated, as they have the same subject matter; or he rarely hits really low or really high notes All in all it is a great album that deserves to be purchased. Remember, in the music game it’s “Buy or Die”, meaning buy the album or good music will die.

Because who really wants to listen to terrible lyricism in the future?

Ann Arbor, USA. Poetry capital of the nation. … or soon it could be.

Once a city, now turned Mecca for poetry-enthusiasts, Ann Arbor offers what many cities are just now catching on to: the power to spoken word. “Popular in every major city” in the US, Ann Arbor has earned its reputation as a city at the forefront of a spoken word movement; heralding homegrown names like Claire Forster, Molly Raynor, and Jeff Kass, and attracting talents, Lauren Whitehead and Mariama Lockington to its stage, Ann Arbor has become the place for Michigan spoken word.

But how did it get that way, and where did the surge come from?

By way of a teacher named Jeff Kass. From New York to California to Ann Arbor, Michigan, Jeff has seen the rise of spoken word around the country. “I was teaching at the time in Union City, California, and my younger brother, James Kass, was writing, and he was going to them [slams], so I went to them and performed at one.” From there, “James started an organization called Youth Speaks to give free after-school creative writing workshops for teenagers. He held the first ever San Francisco youth poetry slam in 1996. I went to it, and I thought it was really powerful, so I brought it back to my school. The second poetry slam was really huge; it got bigger and bigger. Then I moved here in ‘99 and it’s been flourishing ever since.”

Why spoken word, what does it do for us as a culture?

“It just fills a need,” said Jeff. For everyone who grew up in the hip hop generation, there is a “respect for people who can verbally express themselves in a skillful fashion, and that’s what hip hop is.” Also, spoken word “comes from the heart, and we live in a time where you don’t get that a lot. To see people actually doing that is really powerful. It harkens back to something ancient. Human contact, honest conversation, creative expression, and ‘I want to hear what this person has to say’.”

So what would you tell someone just getting in to spoken word?

“Poetry is not something that is written by old dead people about old dead subjects but poetry is right here, and now. You can write poems about your sweatshirt or your earrings, or the guy walking down the street, anything can be subject. And you can use any kind of language. Use your vernacular. Use your slang. Use your hip hop. Use all that,” said Jeff.

And so they did. Molly Raynor, who has, for many writers, become the inspiration for their entrance into poetry, started early in spoken word.

"My mom is a professional storyteller,” and “that's what got me into it at a very young age,” said Molly. “She told me stories from before I was born – like in the womb - and even before I could write, she would have me tell her stories and then she would write them down. She has documentation of my first poems.” Molly performed for the first time at her great grandmother's funeral. “I was twelve. She [great grandmother, Dinya] died when she was a hundred and five. And she’s been a huge influence on my writing, because she was the first storyteller in our family that came to this country and passed down her stories on to us. Her stories tend to end up in a lot of my poems.”

Similarly, Mariama Lockington sees her family as incredibly influential in her life and writing. From the blending of poetry, music, and family, Mari has come to write some of the most melodic and beautifully crafted poetry anywhere. “I see members of my family as musical instruments,” said Mari who believes she brings music into every part of her life, even without meaning to, and her family is always at the heart of her writing. She describes her sisters as “incredible. beautiful. inspiring.”

It is also through writing that Mari finds she can organize the most important things in her mind, and get down her thoughts through “an art form that has been constantly there.” Mariama explains, “I would move around” to different cities, start over again, but “it was poetry that stuck” with me. By way of words, Mari has found one source of personal expression.

As for Lauren Whitehead, she found her entrance into spoken word by way of walking into the Michigan Theater her freshman year at Michigan. “I was always looking for an outlet … to fit into the orchestra, into the choir… and then I saw Molly (on stage).” After seeing her perform, Lauren said: “How did she do that? I want to do that,” so she did. She went home and wrote, and soon performed her poem, I used to Sang at the Uclub poetry slam. “The audience scared me to death,” but “you came with some fire or got booed off the stage” said Lauren. “I got off the stage shaking like a leaf,” but it was “the most affirming shit ever.”

Now, a poetic force and three year National Poetry Slam contender, Lauren is one of the strong voices in poetry. “I want to fill the room with my voice ...” she said, and to be sure, she has.

Claire Forster explains her connection to words and worlds in: “I train my mind to see the poetry in everything. Poetry is the jump-off for the way I live my life,” but without Jeff Kass (former teacher at Pioneer), “there would have been no jump-off.” From the teachings of Kass and Roger Bonaire-Agard, from her Spanish classes, archeology lectures, geology, biology, philosophy classes … “the randomest classes” …

Claire has found a life in which she thrives. By “looking at things with different questions in mind,” Claire constantly pushes to reach another perspective.

What else are you interested in?

“Love. It really is the only thing that is keeping this world together,” said Forster.

What do you want people to know?

“You don’t have to be like the story you see on TV. Girls want to dance like Beyonce. No, be you,” said Lauren. “Apply what you’ve been taught always. Make a theory for yourself.”

What is your favorite poetry?

Molly: “My favorite poems are the poems people will never hear.”

Jeff, what do you want people to know?

“I believe that everybody can be a writer. Just try. Tell your stories, because people want to hear them.”

And so they have. Five poets, five different stories, lives, and voices who have found the same connection and passion through spoken word poetry. The great thing is, this kind of poetry is going on everywhere. In Ann Arbor, in Chicago, New York, San Francisco, there is an entire population of people passionate about words like Jeff, Lauren, Molly, Claire, and Mariama. And they’re doing it: on the stage, they are changing our world.

fighting. obstacles. knowing. ultimate. success. www.onefokus.com