Po' Poets Workshop on Luumi Nation Territory
From the old City
By Bee
From the old city called the “new flower”
Addis Abeba
False borders, false citizenships, false documentation
Pleads for asylum to the countries that caused such instability,
Cause a stress so real as I fill out government forms for my first-gen mama,
Cause a disconnect in community I have continued to know
And now it is something that is more familiar than the family I no longer know
Where am I now?
I see modernized displacement all around me
Sweeps, incarceration, police surveillance against me and my loved ones destroyed communities we are rebuilding
I sit on the court hearings of my loved ones as well as my own,
And I see hundreds more poor folks brought in from the jails,
Shamed by judges for “bad decisions,”
Attacked by prosecutors
Fines added
Bail doubled
Sentences lengthened
Charges added
Labeled an “inmate #” and “case #”
They want you to feel dehumanized and ashamed
“Beth vs. the State of Washington”
They make it clear this is a war–one waged against the poor
By a nation-state empowered by its false borders and protection of the elite
And it’s even clearer to me
That they are the public safety hazard.
I belong to Earth
By Dawson I belong to earth And earth belongs to me However I’ve been deprived my right to belong on earth By segregation And poverty And left me no choice besides being homeless
This is from every Borderline
alive and dead
By Kaiyah
This is from every borderline
Both alive and dead
I welcome you inside my borderline head
The disease most stigmatized and most ignored by doctors
“Come and look at the person who was created by monsters!”
I’ve been called “crazy,” “toxic,” and “emotionally extreme”
But that’s because, my dear,
I have BPD
I only think in black and white
Only feel joy, rage, or horror
Because I was so young when I got sick
I’ve never really seen the world in color
I only know how to shut myself down and think out of order
Which gave me the diagnosis “borderline personality disorder”
I go bad and when I’m full of rage
Like an inferno in my soul and body
Within its cage, I destroy everything around me
And when everyone who fled wakes up and see the damage cause by my borderline head
I want you to understand that the evil is not me
I am full of love, kindness, joy, and empathy with people
I am alive but when I am alone I escape to my bed
To escape from pain in my borderline head
So give me the strength to survive tonight because
I am closer and closer to losing this fight
I am tired of the crying and feelings of dread
The chaos that’s happening in my borderline head
This piece is about an artist who discovered abstract art within bipolar treatment. I suffer from grandiose delusions so I’m very grand.
By Kk
How to Pollock a masterpiece?
Jackson, question, ordinary positions changes– that’s a given–
On a drawing, of course,
Ordinary people is a given,
Crayola helps show the true colors
What’s a fake color?
Pollock shamble?
Question
Painting the industry?
Question
Pollock would like electric cars painted like pennies
In shambles I tell you!
Jackson asked me
“What’s a nonrenewable resource?”
I tell him,
“A tale of more than two cities”
Trying to also swallow keys
The industry I tell you!
Extra, extra! Get your newspapers!
Forever Being Judged By Phonixx Some might ask about what it is like to be homeless. To be homeless and living on the streets is something most have never experienced and some have never seen. Forever being judged, humiliated, photographed, and recorded! For what the pleasure of having us exploited, made to look like animals in the jungle, wild and untamed. “No human decency or morals” so they say. We are humans too, we have feelings just like you. There is no reason to fear us. Maybe instead of being violent towards us, you should have some compassion and not judge for once. So the next time you see us walking down the street, on the corner at a red light, laying on the sidewalk, show a random act of kindness and say “hi”or just smile and wave. You never know, it just might make their day. Being homeless isn’t easy. It’s the hardest journey I've ever been on in my life. But I’m thankful for this learning experience and this life lesson. Because I now know what it is like to have nowhere to go, wonder where or when your next meal will be, how you’re gonna stay dry and warm, when the rain, wind, storms, snow, and freezing temperatures hit. Thankfully, I ended up meeting the most amazing group of volunteers and campers at a protest on the City Hall Lawn for housing for the homeless. They are the most caring, compassionate, dedicated, hard-working, give-you-the-shirt-off-their-back types. They continue to show up for us day in and day out. Rain or shine, even in the snow and through every bad storm we endured. Making sure we had all the necessities and then some, to continue surviving the winter together. -- PHONIXX
