There's something beautiful about the way a poet sketches words to tell their stories, especially when you see part of your own story unfolding in the way they spell and speak each word. I recently had the opportunity to check out a spoken word concert: "When Sisters Speak". Though I knew my share of friends/acquaintances that were either there or on their way, I sat solo, and I was glad.
During the intercession I managed to scribble a few things on my blackberry:
" I'm all smiles right now. These women are aweworthy, they deserve an applause. Everything about their. Words, everything about them was sincere, real. How can I ....
(To the guy who's cigarette stench left me and all my clothes stain with garbage: why??!?) ...
I dunno, I have a lot of things going through my head right now... I'm feeling like I owe it to myself to write more and to bring my life and my story into more of my writing. I want to limit my use of abstract poetic concepts, and bring me as simple and as unaltered as possible fearlessly into white lines, and tattoo it between the lines of my notepad. I may or may not ever gather the strength to breath life into it, but maybe writing it will help me understand it more. Maybe I've been stopping myself from addressing my story because up until now, I never admitted or seen the value and or validity in sharing it for some reason."
There were pieces about everything, a few of which I have heard before, but somehow it felt like I never did. I hung to every last word that was spoken, in hopes of lying in the truth they sought to speak. I heard it... and I took it all in. After many hugs, laughter, and discussions, and listening, I went home late and took it all in... Feeling thankful, to have been in the presence of so many beautiful people. I needed that night, I honestly can't remember the last time I wrote anything... I needed this. It's strange how I could find myself in their words though they were not mine but theirs to hold. Maybe they sent it as a gift to themselves to heal, or to the audience to entertain, and give us our money's worth
Adele - Set fire to the rain by TheProphetBlog
A friend of mine said that the crowd wasn't very rowdy or have too too much energy. I'm not sure how these things work, but whenever I'm taking a spoken word piece in, I usually stay quiet, and my reaction comes a bit delayed. In the moment I tend to take it in, and absorb as much of it as possible lol... *shrug* not sure why. On rare occasions you hear me snap my fingers... But I'm always all smiles.