A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures
[Untitled America Poem] If great means impressive then yes though I’m easily impressed by American dream teen movie queen bees preordained aspirations and silverware sets six generations needs more dog parks and ice cream and garbage trucks needs less cars coca cola clearance clothing sale commercials less promise breaker mistake maker human error budget cuts […]
Emotionless Thoughts Rhyming is my nature and words are my dreams Because everything I say doesn’t look but it sees The future’s right in front of us but people are blinded By the harsh facts, so they always try to hide it
Fruit Stand Carve red into me, use your whole arms to entangle my body. I want to feel protected and warm, blue-warm like a star nearing expansion. I’ve been told I’m not humbled enough. I want you to hold me; my knees have failed and gone somewhere else. You allow yourself to let me fall […]
Black Courage There are wolves in wolves clothing Telling the weak That the sheep are the ones to fear, You are that sheep baby boy. Courage runs in your blood, So you will be tapped into. We live in a world where the authority Shoots patterns into unarmed citizens We live with crisp folds in […]
By: Lily Baumgart, 2017-18 Seattle Youth Poet Laureate Simple answer: amazing. When I was announced as the 2017/18 Youth Poet Laureate, I was in shock. My uncle had taken a video of Matt Gano announcing the winner and for days afterwards I’d watch that video over and over, making sure that it was my name […]
Do Not Forget My name is more than Just a name It is a proclamation A declaration of prosperity My name is dead ancestors breathing fresh air My name carries the near dead Tongue of my lineage to shore The mispronunciation of my name is Wind blowing the sails My name has been slaughtered, Butchered, […]
Our Parents Are a Lost Cause I told you to take our mother into your timeless hands. It takes effort for her to move her lips, so let her tell you that she loves you, let her ask you how school was, and hide your leathered palms, as you will your calloused fingers. Take her […]
For Black Boys Delicate Black boy. Solider, plum painted spirit, deep rooted, dreamer. I can tell from the oceans on your bed that you’ve never been told you were beautiful. Mother didn’t remind you of rainbows in her malleable insides. She soaked you in songs but never self-love. Never explaining the pink hue of your […]