This video calls into question the media construction, and the stereotypes it pushes into the minds of those in society. We become brain washed and tricked into believing that things on the surface shouldn't be dished put to find the truth, too often we accept things as they seem.This video serves as a prime example;

The other day a friend of mine found a post that read the top ___(cant really remember how many) reasons why Eminem should stop rapping. This was intriguing to me when I had the opportunity of watching his new music video "Not Afraid"./ i felt as though this piece was honest and despite his always loud voice that filled you with emotion he seemed to be at peace with himself. I love how he continuously pushes to break boundaries and keeps his story alive through his music despite the elephant in the room.He always seems to amuse me when he says "fuck you" and then tells everyone to hold his hand and he will lead the way. This song has literally given me the courage to stand up to someone.

Dear Past Life,

I have a heart like a firefly

Attracting mates with my bioluminescent

He likes it when I grow kryptonite colored mucus between my legs

I love heart glued to backbone

He loves broken

Rips veins from vertebrates

Now I love broken

Bent over back shot kind of love

Penetrating me like I’m Tivoli Garden

He wants to plant bloodshed in between my concrete opening

He loves like shell casings

Gun powder has fallen from this broken hymen

So he changes how he loves from time to time

No longer “Hey gyla bend over”

Now he says “Shorty when can I slip it in”

Some say I have too much hope

I can’t leave him alone

Want to rub him against my copper skin

As if he’s a dandelion trying to treat a permanent bee sting

He is the only man I can trust

Knowing that this isn’t love

But some game I play with my thoughts to fee beautiful

As I scatter to find freedom within the composition of my heart beat playing pain

It’s not his fault he doesn’t love universal

Once met a woman who showed too much affection

Now sex is a part of him

As if my vagina is Gaia

And he is the wag water river flowing through my veins

He is Adonis

With Zeus embroidered inward

He is perfect

And just a bit ruined

Rising from the junkyard with oil based ink on his fingertips

He wants to paint a black rainbow and the ceiling tonight

He wants to remind us that the dull things shine

I know what you may say if I tell you this bluntly

“Why sacrifice your temple for love?”

Maybe I will never find it

Now my vagina has become a certificate for love

Signed in Chlamydia

And I will never know what’s going on inside my body

Somewhere inside he is a part of me

Like how sex is a part of him

I was too busy loving
forgetting that love is a game of dialectics it works both ways
and I can’t seem to get all my thoughts into each stanza
Why a poet and not a Sergent
I want you to feel my pain
And im afraid that my words wont allow you to understand
Every ones has felt the prick of a needle
that’s what I’m feeling

I created a post,about a month ago that featured Ed Niles and his label Paper Yen which was on the verge of transforming. I'm proud to present his new label 10Cash. Stay posted on the other shirts that will soon be coming!!!

I can feel chills coming up and down my spine. My roes begin to curl and my body is on the verge of shaking. She's so gentle;I think I've fallen in love with this Barber Shop. Yesterday i got a haircut and a shape up at Kj styles, located on troop (bet.Halsy&Hancock). It is by far the most5 relaxing ad quiet Barber Shop I have had the pleasure to sit in.The tight knit of the young and old men waiting to tweet their perfections all over again. The artist that turned by stagnant naps into Angela Davis verses is Gaia (Guy-A). she is not only a phenomenal Barber, but also a lyricist. I had the opportunity of hearing a sample just the day before and I was in awe at how genuine it was, not because her flow, or rhyme scheme, but the words and knowledge she spit.

In the Black community there are issues that become prolonged, are swept under the rug, and others that are just blatantly ignored. While on a friend of mines Facebook page I came across a video of Black men speaking on prison relationships with other Black men.I was very honored (though not sure if that is the word) at how honest they were. after the video was ended I decided to browse around and watch the other video along the "related" strip.I came across this incredible video that is an exchange between Gay Black men;I recall one saying "most Black women are unappreciative of the fact of an openly gay Black man living his life by the terms he sets, I think they would find that more appreciative than the fact of being mislead". I agree with him, and how he explains its effect of it onto the relationships we have with one another.
The idea of the church and the openness to gays also stuck with me. A great friend of mines entered a switch gender contest on our senior trip, and when the pictures were viewed by members of his church he was told that he could no longer play there as well.


There is also another video (the one below). I think that he touches on the idea of sagging your pants, and how it originated from prison. I also admired how one of the men spoke on "homosexual" behaviors that "straight" men engage in. For those of you who are reading this I would very much appreciate it if you could email me/Facebook me you thoughts and feelings on this. There is so much that can be done and said.

Facebook-Jodie-Ann Geddes
email-geddes.jodie@gmail.com
This is the last video (promise), When the "straight" man talked about how he hasn't excepted the fact that he is gay. That's also something else I found powerful within it of itself. There are more words that can express this but Ill end it here!

There is this inconceivable poet that I dearly admire, not just in the growth of his craft but his strength, and faith every time his pen touches the page, and his words bless the stage. I seriously cyber stalked his page all the time, and dropped in his honesty box more than once.We have spoken before! No I wont tell you who he is,I don't like he,instead I admire him; I'm just too afraid to tell him exactly how I feel.I wrote this piece dedicated to him, not only to express how great of a poet he is, but the extent that I value him to.

I love - like the Sahara after an ice age
He loves- like a UDUB poet
We love- like a slam/I have lost

* This is also a spoken word workshop exercise! (I recommend u to try it)
I love
He loves
We love

Ode to Ken

I wouldn't say I hate my father for not being there, nor do I love him as much as I wish I did. The fact of the matter is he wasn't there enough for me, and it doesn't matter why. My mother has went through trials and tribulations. Her body parts do not define her strength!

Daddy is an Orchid

He has the ability to plant orchids in West Indian wombs

But no one ever taught him how to pick and throw away the weeds

I’m still here

Standing with dead stems but I’m still growing

I guess no one ever taught him that sunlight can burst from arms faced forward forming the shape of a U

I never needed the sky

So I prayed for the sun to shine through boarded windows adjacent to the gully side when it rained

I prayed that he knew it was like to love me

Rather than my name

But to appreciate the orchid that didn’t need to float on water

She drifted on land

I guess no one taught him

How to gather broken pies and spray salep onto hearts

How to rotate the lives of his many women and children

He himself is an orchid

With stems of a rose

Unstably secreted onto the ground

One who’s upward stature made him look like Adonis

High, mighty, beautiful

What kind of man did grandma want him to be?

In the future I may continue to work on it, with the process of my emotional growth but at this point it is finalized <3

Procrastination

So, I have been meaning 2 published 3 different drafts from my post box. Yes, I know I need to get back on track;in the mean time I will post a few short(maybe long) pieces to keep you occupied and interested in whats more to come!

I'm not really sure if this piece is finished, but it is an dedication to a friend of mine (he asked for it to be written, you can do the same).

I never seen someone move so suave across the dance floor

Gliding as if he were floating on the wings of gravity

For vybz was his escape so he danced into day

But he wasn’t like the others

The music became like zombies performing a puppeteer act with his body

String were never lose

So he never fell

And I wonder why they call him suave

For he didn’t wear a velvet suit

And I never seen him cop a pair of suave sneakers

To hell, I never even seen him moon walk like Mikhail

Maybe it was the way he moved in his skinny jeans

Not uptight but as if his thighs were his hips

John Leguizamo, Spanish poet speaks on his career and new journeys. i surf the web a lot, not intentionally (sounds weird). I came to stumble across his interview after watching his comedy show and I began to question his sexuality; after reading his interview I was blown away by his honesty, especially for a person that is constantly in the spotlight and getting ridiculed because he doesn't follow certain norms. To make this all short, here is the link to the interview.

http://epgn.com/view/full_story/8034712/article-John-Leguizamo-brings-new-show-to-Philly-?instance=detour_feature_main

Perception of beauty

I originally wrote this piece in an extended metaphor workshop and I was ask to write something on my perception of beauty. this gave me a chance to do some editing;here goes.

Part 1-Cracked Mirror

Split my tongue 4 ways

Like the other 4 halves of me

Crazy glue my tonsils backwards

I want to remember what it feels like to be whole again

Part 2-Coming to America

Comb the taste buds from my tongue

History holds no validation here

I’m fleshless

Meatless

Assimilation stripped

Part 3-Graduation

I’m a refugee

She’s a capitalist

I’m willing to turn her into a nationalist

Tame her like a scripture

Practice what she preach

Strip her jaw lines

Sew her smile tight

The burns aren’t too pretty

Beauty pains her

Part 4-I’m tired of struggle

She’s a black canvas in living color

Color me His-Story

She wants to be History

Roaring panther, Jazz like, Stagnant

Part 5-Heartbreak

He always told me that I had the bluest eyes

Loved the way I combed fur balls from my roots

He could tell I was a fighter

Spoke the language of pig skin with me as we watched the grass break at the edge of the 40 yard line

I was his swine

Prized the way I made love to mud like a premature hood rat craving Sephora before knowledge

I was born by the river. .

Despite my love for poetry,Hip Honors made me feel personally honored. Hip Hop seems to be no longer just a means to liberation for blacks but for others as well. The diversity and its tremendous impact on my life, somehow music has a way of soothing and freeing the souls.I remember listening to a Cornel west audio and the way he described music for Blacks. He described it as freedom;The Hip Hop Honors makes it apparent to me just how much music has transformed. Not in a way that degrades women, language or history but a way that makes us feel validated. yes us! The leather jackets, timberland, and diversity of artist from Trey,(may I add was phenomenal),Method and red, Mary,and Travie McCoy. I was impressed! Homie on the turntables was wilin'. Only in a movie have I seen someone spin turntables with their tongue (and I doubt he was faking it).Mary J stepped out, which was AMAZING! This was better than the BET awards 10 folds, hands down, thumbs up.

Jaden Smith is on the rise of becoming a phenomenal actor,entertainer, and human being. I must say, I was hesitant to see The Karate Kid. I'm always stuck inside the realms of what is normal, i.e consistency in actors or theme. I'm not like a Justin Bieber fan or anything, but I came across a You Tube video of a duo between Jaden and Justin. (They should start a group) I had my thoughts together b4 writing this, but it was in my drafts for wayyyyy too long! (apologies 4 how dry this is, and all the "slang")

I have a series of poems that I never finished and recently had the opportunity to read them over tonight, I think I like them as short and sweet as they are. This week and throughput the next few weeks Ill be posting some of these short pieces.
*This piece was a part of a poem that is finished and I originally wanted to put this in. I was really trying to stay on track with the piece holistically so I didn't place this in somewhere.In all I believe that this stands alone.

Bullets fly like treble clefs from a composer’s saxophone

How could something so humble move as fast as a catalyst

And the hood is at dissidence with culture

We are music

Forgetting that freedom once played from our fingertips