Ill-Literacy's Natural Electricity Tour

My people,

so its been years since I last posted. Between my trip to S.Tomé, work. flowers and the elections (even though I am not in the states), life's been crazy. Believe it or not, many debates, lectures and information sesssions have been held here in Cape Verde about the 2008 U.S presidential elections. I do not think a presidential election has ever been so important to the world.

To kick off my return to blogging, I would like to bring to your attention spoken word collective Ill-Literacy and their fall NATURAL ELECTRICTY tour. I performed with Ill-Literacy in 2006 for an AIDS conference that a group of us had organized in Paris. They are an interesting bunch of artists whose hard work and efforts deserve the exposure. Being where I am, I cannot attend their gigs but I know some of you are within driving distance and/or are alums of some of the colleges they will be performing at.

Dahlak, a member of the ill-lit crew, just released a mixtape tribute to Kanye. Although I am not Kany'es biggest fan (but i do like him, kiiiinda), I am a fan of Nico, who features on Dahlak's first single off of the mixtape. Nico is oh so witty when he spits...you can get a free download of You Never Know here!

Throwback: Fall 2006

( photos by Alicia Karpetsky)

I met some amazing souls during my time at AUP. The spoken word crew was tight. When we first started it was only a handful of us. We would invade someone's apartment, light up and just breathe poetry. Each person had their own style, their own personal platforms and their exclusive passions. I heart those days. When the calm streets of the 7th quarter were sleeping , we were just beginning our climax- spitting verses while wiping away tears and sharing emotions at the top of our lungs - expressing our love, anger or admiration of any one thing, event, person, idea. Fall 2006 is etched in my memory. Sophia had exchanged emails with a Spoken word collective from the Bay area , Ill-literacy, and they were interested in coming to AUP to perform. The idea of an AIDS conference was born from a lot of hard work and determination. I had never seen AUP host such an event. I mean, hip hop culture in Europe generally does not go beyond the most mainstream of the mainstream, let alone spoken word...but when i think about it, what better place to live spoken word than Paris...a city that holds art as one of the most sacred of gifts to humans...

So0000, this is part of a poem that I wrote for our spoken word performance in commemoration of International AIDS day (we made it international ma'freakin aids WEEK up in dat biiiatch). Joe and I worked on this poem together and turned out a beautiful duo piece but i haven't included the parts we did together cos I havent spoken to him in forever and a day...if i track down his globe-trotting behind ill see if i can get his blessing to publish the whole piece.

That being said,

What Next?
It's a question asked, but often missed
hiding behind God’s prayer and below his mist
I rest no hopes on his future’s hiss
We live to die amongst each other’s midst
Foggy and blue
lives loosen around my finger tips
and its my felt tip with which words inscript my wish to live
Beyond crypted lists of ten commandments
And wishlists of things we should do
But fail

Frail hands eclipse the shadows of death that surround my loved ones hips
They surface on his figure
Prints
Of his life reduced to minutes,
His physical thighs diminished
from years of insistence on living life
To images of soars bleeding strife, beyond violations of human rights
His fight
Was to mate with the memory of what was, his life

How can I bear Witness to What’s next
When my future has been displaced years behind today’s current events
I live his yesterday’s dreams like it’s the present tense

Because he
did not deserve to die bent over his knees trying to defeat death
He
did not deserve to cry
in the reflection of his daughter’s eyes
Watchin’ her father release his last breath
And I ask myself where does God draw the line
so fine and meticulous
so divine and articulate
when he says, “It’s Time”…

She, My, Phoenix, I

I was born to a Phoenix

She is my winged goddess

Her nest of cinnamon twigs nourish my growth

Her flames, they're modest but golden

Tamed, but emboldened when She fears danger has found me

It is me She tricks.... her fatherless clone

When time comes to migrate west

A time zone adequate for survival

I think its our primal quest

but no

We've been exposed

Danger has crowned us the ultimate prey

And Her immortality... it's just not what it used to be

She

My winged goddess

Once lawless and unrestrained

Her flames blazed pathways of eternal odysseys

and laid traps against the wind's chorus

She made way for rays of light that would illuminate night's darkness

and torch the fortresses made to protect locusts of hate

Until Her focus

Became me

She

My winged goddess

Trading in Her destiny of endless renewal and giving me Her power to regenerate life

forfeited duels against impossibles and made me the eye of Her eternity

I, not She

Became destined to rise brilliantly and light the sky with fire she had instilled in the deepest depths of me

Releasing high degrees of richness and intensity, I sear hostility and solder enemies of dialogue

I wrap creativity in a fog of forever and present her at the alter of my almighty Sun-god

My protector of freedom, my preceptor of love, my soldier of peace

She was a Phoenix

And I am her release from life, my seed was Her sacrifice

My birth Her wingless destiny

I am the dove she left nesting in the abandoned olive tree

My winged goddess has left me

Heart breathing heavy,

She leaves in search of forgiveness