SPEAK! collective poem at AMC Keynote
a transcript of the poem speak! radical women of color media justice collective read in the dark at the allied media conference opening. the theme of the conference was “we are ready now”:
Noemi: poetry? hmmm…do you want me to write poetry
( spoken through out auditorium by anybody and everybody we can get as
a murmur. after two lines are said, all say I speak I speak)
Elle:
with what
with whom
but how
who says
who said
how come
how long
which words
which way
my tone my tongue
my soul it lives
I speak
all: I SPEAK
Adele cracks silence to ask:
Adele: Why do you SPEAK?
Maegan:
hablo porque no me queda de otra
even though my tongue tangles spanglish mixed blood palabras
somehow they always translate into
love y lucha
Adele:
Speaking -my voice- is my faith
Faith that there are others like me
Faith that my voice has been heard
Faith that grows with me and never holds me back
I speak for protection
For love
For grounding
To remember I – we exist
Noemi:
feed writing, starve poetry
Little Light:
I speak because underneath my tongue and lips, my hips and hands,
behind my eyes and down my back is a skeleton: as mute and hard and
insistent as the bones of my ancestors. It demands that I give my
voice so they may speak.
They ask where the bones are buried, and remind me where my ghosts
are. They ask me from the ink in my marrow,
Who lies beneath your living feet as you walk?
and who has gone before while you go forward?
and who is silent when you are speaking?
and who is outside your Inside, and inside your guts?
and who do you belong to,
and who taught you beauty,
and on what do you stand, holding you steady from beneath, raising you high?
My skull clicks its teeth and asks me to listen. Through all my warm
and bloody flesh, where are the bones buried?
I speak
because underneath my eyes, my tongue and lips, my hips and hands, is
a skeleton:
as hard, and mute, and insistent as the bones of my ancestors, and the
bones in you.
It demands that I give my voice so the ghosts are heard, because
further under still, between my clutching ribs and fountain-pen spine,
I have a beating heart.
And so
I am ready.
Now.
cripchick:
revelations dance together in the caves of our mouths
webs of spit holding together poems not yet ready
tongue acting as transmitters
for every secret
you attempted to hide in the back of your throat
baby don’t you know?
…we are ready now.
Blackamazon:
One me many tongues
crossed tossed not mixed not muddled
run de
Shakespeare
iambic my creolese
hip hop overtures
Cr’est seulment pour une chose my voice
It is always better to speak.
Alexis:
brokenbeautifulbrownsweet
our half-baked edges
fused with coconut and sugarlust
hot filling my mouth with
yes
yes
yes
yes
possible
now
