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Tribute Poem

I know I promised a moment-by-moment of Mahagony & Jive's show, but anything above "outstanding" is truly saying too much. The venue was a chic, and still cozy. The crowd was lively, and still fertile. The hosts were skilled, and still raw (what?! with the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches?!?!). The show was well done, well attended and much-appreciated.

The lineup included myself, Christa Bell (Seattle), Bassey Ipke (NYC) & Queen Sheba (Atlanta). I carry a great deal of respect for all three of these performers; so it was an honor to share the mic with them:

One of Those Tribute Poems
This is my first
Official
Ride-your-jock
Poem
I’ve heard plenty of poetry
with well-crafted lines
to stutter my breathing
and collide my palms
into spasmatic applause
but I’ve always found
tribute poems to be crude
flat & simple
still
beautiful
well-written
powerful
seductuctive, even
but I vowed to never write one

And then
her signature bit me
with a whip
dipped in some poison
called
divinity
I don’t dare say her name
In case
Some lunatic decides to pitch a tent
in her mama’s yard
And y’all
start thinking it's
gonna be easy to make me leave

Lyrics spun
above rarefied air
a craft
Supervised by witches
and angels high on hallelujah
Witnessing her inisight
spring to life
behind microphones
brakes the world at her heels
all else
are whispers of lives held
yet
forgotten
it will be there
that life
but I’ve got to hear this again
and again
and again

After the 4th time
I’m embarrassed
I’ve been sprung by a poet
First time for everything
And I want her
I want to hold words on my tongue
Like her
Openly love the high notes of my own scripture
Like her
Love my verbal imperfections
like fleeing open my robe before bedding a lover
with breasts less
Like ripe fruit
But engorged with sweetness
Just the same
I want my pages to be decidedly alive
Like hers
Give myself permission to
Stamp my stories onto daylight
Balance my purpose
On slender, chipped edges
of No. 2 and clotted inkwells

I am alive
With my language
And celebrate it by accident
And wisely
So I must allow myself
To applaud a phenomenon
Whenever it cyclones nearby
Let fly into the storm clouds
broken houses
Beachfronts, stadiums
And egos
Giving respect
To inspiration
Elemental in its beauty
Her words were honest
crude
simple
beautiful
well-written
powerful
seductive, even
and I could tell
that she kept her
words tied around her waist
And tucked between her breathing
Leaning on a sheer netting of glorious language
Just
Like me.

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