I smell. . . .
horse ****
It's less offensive than the
********
i've been seeing lately
They say it with their
hands, mouths, eyes
Desperate offences in defence of the indefensible
Tonight i sat in a safe space
where we clicked to show our appreciation
Heard resonations of clicking when a poet spoke words
that darted through our foreheads
And lit something there.
We knew the responses:
"This is new ****
NEEEEEEEWWWW ****
Clap the poet, not the points
the points are not the point
We knew we were offered
hearts
more than words
Their rhythms and awakenings,
arrhythmias, overflowings, and
midnight ponderings.
So we put our own into our palms
and beat them together for every poet
who dared to touch that microphone
to their chest.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 6:21 PM UTC
I smell. . . .
horse ****
It's less offensive than the
********
i've been seeing lately
They say it with their
hands, mouths, eyes
Desperate offences in defence of the indefensible
Tonight i sat in a safe space
where we clicked to show our appreciation
Heard resonations of clicking when a poet spoke words
that darted through our foreheads
And lit something there.
We knew the responses:
"This is new ****
NEEEEEEEWWWW ****
Clap the poet, not the points
the points are not the point
We knew we were offered
hearts
more than words
Their rhythms and awakenings,
arrhythmias, overflowings, and
midnight ponderings.
So we put our own into our palms
and beat them together for every poet
who dared to touch that microphone
to their chest.
I wrote this after a day at tafe studying australian sign language. I was feeling worn down by casual racism, sexism and transphobia in our class. That night i went to my first poetry slam and i was BLOWN AWAY by the generous, brave, honest, caring people that got up on stage to share part of themselves with us and what an accepting space the slam was :-)
