Lunch...My favorite class period, where I learn the most information that actually applies to the growth and development of my character was somehow different on 4/22. Instead of my lunch consisting of regular "tea-time" as my fellow classmates refer to daily gossip, we was served with Slam Poetry! Joy started this rotation of extremely hot poetry with one of her own poems about self ignorance which I still to this day reflect upon! Many of our classmates were extremely shocked to see Joy share such a powerful poem due to her timid personality. Her poem had left many of us excited to see more performances and poetry. (You rock Joy!)
After Joy, we had Davon silence the room completely with her poem stating "But see, ya'll don't dream a woman into Africa until she's gone, write her poems and tell her how much you miss her but never actually lay claim to her." Which had many of the males in the room on hush mode with that big bite to swallow. (Appreciate women! Appreciate BLACK women) Reflecting on this poem still has me in awe on my worth and the worth of the many Queens before and after me.
While mouths were still gaping, A very well known voice throughout City College had something big to say with a little motivation from me of course! Tobias tried to act like he wasn't a poet at heart with a message, so I had to kindly remind him that I know he wrote poetry because we used to rap in our Sophomore technology class. (Mixtape is well on its way) Once he started reading his poetry I felt like a proud mother because I knew of his capabilities he is just so silly! His very powerful poetry piece stated "Hypocritical stereotypical 'I love god but can't fully embrace Christianity' people hurt people." which had many people taken back because the content of his poem was very powerful but the voice it was coming from is known to be very silly. By Tobias sharing his poem it made people look at him in a new light. A poet with a big voice, big heart with a heavy message to display.
After Tobias shared his amazing poetry about the hypocrisy of the images of religious people and the questioning of the intention of their faith, I was full and prepared to sit back and reflect on my own life experiences but many voices around me was wondering why I hadn't shared any of my work. Many people knew me for being very outspoken and never shy but in this moment...the infamous Jamesha Caldwell was shaking in her own boots. I was worried about the opinions of my peers (which I never do, but I'm an artist whose sensitive about my shit.) , Not only was I worried about the opinions of my peers but my global politics teacher was sitting in the room! Talking about pressure! But then I remembered who I was and my classmates have never known me to stand down from a challenge and they weren't going to start to perceive me as a punk.
My poem goes like this....
"My body is my temple.
My body is my temple.
So let me get this through your fucking mental.
You touch me without my permission, I'm going to show I'm not a victim. Get it through your cranium, your cerebral system, your nucleus , that powerhouse that makes your powerhouse twitch.
I'm going to be more than a bitch. I'm going to be more than that witch. Imma show you a magic trick on how my tongue can turn into a whip. That'll give you whiplash so fast you better think fast, because my knuckles will turn to braze and you'll see my golden mask.
Golden mask made up of women who have been beaten, battered, brutally attacked, Can't speak out and you know that that's a fact, Imma rewind this shit back because I used to be a young women who didn't have voice, But I found that shit from within in that deepend because I didn't have a choice. My story goes likes this.
When you get tied, you get tired. No one saw my tears, played on my fears, destroyed my sense of pride that I hide from reality. Sink into a depression that drowns the souls of the forgotten, Murdered by the Rotten, corrupted by the disrupted. But my 4'11 me had to have a fight with the enemy because when you get tied, you get tired. I burned those chains, through them into acid rain and said that I am free, and I'm going to find and only be me.
So my sisters that have no voice. I speak for you, I know what you've been through. I see only you for you. Ma, I know bitch isn't tattooed on your forehead. And I know you just want those niggas to go head, but I know your mama taught you respect, a simple ideology that niggas seem to neglect.
Seems like, We going to have to protect each other, Because we are all we got. We are unknown creations, simple revelations, with complex conversations. We are young women who stand down to commands, we don't take demands, We are told to withstand from anything that isn't lady like, Brady like, and don't dare us to be crazy like because that'll really piss them off.
But fuck them. It is in our Constitution of Vagina and I as a fellow citizen say that we should expect respect, we should have the option to neglect, and if you see me uncomfortable, bystander you should respond and protect. "- Jamesha Caldwell
At first it was silent, my breathing came to a complete halt. Then a rupture of applause came out. I was breathing again. Emotions was running high. The poem was very personal for me and if anyone had disagreed I was prepared to settle it like the cowboys. I knew that poem was legit, when my Global Politics teacher complimented my work. I knew my poem was legit when my friends who didn't know I wrote poetry complimented my work. I knew my poem was legit when I started believing that my work was good.
-And that was Slam Lunch! Is anyone hungry? Because I'm full!
After Joy, we had Davon silence the room completely with her poem stating "But see, ya'll don't dream a woman into Africa until she's gone, write her poems and tell her how much you miss her but never actually lay claim to her." Which had many of the males in the room on hush mode with that big bite to swallow. (Appreciate women! Appreciate BLACK women) Reflecting on this poem still has me in awe on my worth and the worth of the many Queens before and after me.
While mouths were still gaping, A very well known voice throughout City College had something big to say with a little motivation from me of course! Tobias tried to act like he wasn't a poet at heart with a message, so I had to kindly remind him that I know he wrote poetry because we used to rap in our Sophomore technology class. (Mixtape is well on its way) Once he started reading his poetry I felt like a proud mother because I knew of his capabilities he is just so silly! His very powerful poetry piece stated "Hypocritical stereotypical 'I love god but can't fully embrace Christianity' people hurt people." which had many people taken back because the content of his poem was very powerful but the voice it was coming from is known to be very silly. By Tobias sharing his poem it made people look at him in a new light. A poet with a big voice, big heart with a heavy message to display.
After Tobias shared his amazing poetry about the hypocrisy of the images of religious people and the questioning of the intention of their faith, I was full and prepared to sit back and reflect on my own life experiences but many voices around me was wondering why I hadn't shared any of my work. Many people knew me for being very outspoken and never shy but in this moment...the infamous Jamesha Caldwell was shaking in her own boots. I was worried about the opinions of my peers (which I never do, but I'm an artist whose sensitive about my shit.) , Not only was I worried about the opinions of my peers but my global politics teacher was sitting in the room! Talking about pressure! But then I remembered who I was and my classmates have never known me to stand down from a challenge and they weren't going to start to perceive me as a punk.
My poem goes like this....
"My body is my temple.
My body is my temple.
So let me get this through your fucking mental.
You touch me without my permission, I'm going to show I'm not a victim. Get it through your cranium, your cerebral system, your nucleus , that powerhouse that makes your powerhouse twitch.
I'm going to be more than a bitch. I'm going to be more than that witch. Imma show you a magic trick on how my tongue can turn into a whip. That'll give you whiplash so fast you better think fast, because my knuckles will turn to braze and you'll see my golden mask.
Golden mask made up of women who have been beaten, battered, brutally attacked, Can't speak out and you know that that's a fact, Imma rewind this shit back because I used to be a young women who didn't have voice, But I found that shit from within in that deepend because I didn't have a choice. My story goes likes this.
When you get tied, you get tired. No one saw my tears, played on my fears, destroyed my sense of pride that I hide from reality. Sink into a depression that drowns the souls of the forgotten, Murdered by the Rotten, corrupted by the disrupted. But my 4'11 me had to have a fight with the enemy because when you get tied, you get tired. I burned those chains, through them into acid rain and said that I am free, and I'm going to find and only be me.
So my sisters that have no voice. I speak for you, I know what you've been through. I see only you for you. Ma, I know bitch isn't tattooed on your forehead. And I know you just want those niggas to go head, but I know your mama taught you respect, a simple ideology that niggas seem to neglect.
Seems like, We going to have to protect each other, Because we are all we got. We are unknown creations, simple revelations, with complex conversations. We are young women who stand down to commands, we don't take demands, We are told to withstand from anything that isn't lady like, Brady like, and don't dare us to be crazy like because that'll really piss them off.
But fuck them. It is in our Constitution of Vagina and I as a fellow citizen say that we should expect respect, we should have the option to neglect, and if you see me uncomfortable, bystander you should respond and protect. "- Jamesha Caldwell
At first it was silent, my breathing came to a complete halt. Then a rupture of applause came out. I was breathing again. Emotions was running high. The poem was very personal for me and if anyone had disagreed I was prepared to settle it like the cowboys. I knew that poem was legit, when my Global Politics teacher complimented my work. I knew my poem was legit when my friends who didn't know I wrote poetry complimented my work. I knew my poem was legit when I started believing that my work was good.
-And that was Slam Lunch! Is anyone hungry? Because I'm full!
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