Still Enslaved

I had performed this poem at a Black History Month (BHM) event in October 2013. I love the first paragraph of this poem as it was inspired not only by the struggles of those with a different skin... but those who are considered 'different' (i.e. not accepted) by those who (wrongly) view themselves as superior because of others so called 'difference'. Different because of their accent, hair type/ still/ colour, gender, sexual orientation, weight/ size/ height and the list goes on and on and on...

Still Enslaved

We rose out of freedom

Yet we still walk these streets enslaved like modern day slaves

Shackled to the ball and chain of discrimination

Into a system that judges difference down the tip of its nose

We rose out of freedom

Yet the next generation have no idea where they come from

The land that their parents and grand-parents walked on

The real story that needs to be told across this nation

Its not all about us packed liked sardines on slave ships riding the rough cold seas

We rose out freedom

Yet we still frown at our own reflection

Unhappy with the image watching and wishing

Ourselves to be in a completely different skins

We rose out of freedom

Yet a sense of us and I has been lost in this diversity

Buried in the realms of multi culturalism

The negativity of the melting pot ideology

We need to be passing down our culture and history to the next generation

We rose out of freedom

Yet low self esteem is consuming our daughters

Unhappy with the kink in their hair and the black features that makes them

They are beautiful and they need to be told

They are beautiful

We rose out of freedom

Yet as a community we are dis-united

Diseased by divide and conquer are we

Fooled into believing we are better than the other are we

It is time to truly love your brothers and sisters

Because together we stand and divided we fall

We rose out of freedom

We rose out of freedom

And like Mayo Angelo once cried

Still we shall rise

Copyright © 2013 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks) 

All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or by otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)

Love is...

(A love letter to my one and only! lol...xxx)

Love is a smooth black brotha with a hip hop skin

And the type of voice that draws you right in

You are sweet talk and you know it

You have the gift of the gab and you know it

You make me sick because I know you know it

You know what I am talking about

It’s that peanut butter smile and your comic loving style

And those pillowed shoulders that’s broad

And broad and broad like broad-way

A girl can snuggle right in

Dive in get lost in dreams

Swimming in streams it seems of Otis bliss

Smooth like a kiss on a collar bone

You are my love is…

You be the sun that shines warmth on days

When I wither like a flower

Sun kissed am I on happy days in your rays sunbathing

Am I

Soaking up the support you are offering

Comforted am I through our whispered talking

You are listening

Hugging words you heard my hearts cry

Like a bird I’m flying high

Safely I sigh reassured my personal body guard has my back

By my side

Attached to me like a shadow

Together we run life’s three legged race

Matrix moving as we dodge the things that life throws at us

At times knocking us down but never destroying us

You are my love is…

Love is that special blend of us

Merging like the lighter palm into upper hands skin

We are one united

Been together so long we are older than old skool

Skinning teeth in history books are we

And going on and on and on like Ariston are we

I’ve known you from the ragga suit days and the Viking boots phase

When you that vibe and buss-ing our moves at the jungle raves

I’ve seen you grow from a boy to a man to a husband to a father

That development has left me amazed…

I am hooked… addicted to you…

You are truly my love is…

Copyright © 2013 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks) 

All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or by otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)

The Encounter

Who saw you see eyes watched
Smiling at me
Lips curled you smirked following I grinned
And I believe that was the beginning of something...
Special

Conversations flowed you did say musically lyrically
Listening intently fluttering around every word
Butterflying I followed you and allowed you
To enter my world

Introducing you to me and me to you
We convened connectively
Naturally it seemed
Feathery we embraced
Softly finger tips rest gracefully
Shyly you met me

Sound/ Video Poem for The Encounter



Copyright © 2013 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)
All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, 
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by 
any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or 
otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)

I feel you...

Heaviness falls down as I ponder on regret

The could of’s and should of’s

And if only I did it differently

I should of known better

Was that really me?

Salt tears gather on the corners of my mouth

The bitter sweetness I hate

I can’t help but feel that I deserve it all

I cry drowning in pools of guilt

I sink under blankets of condemnation

Conviction tightens like a rope

Sobs shout ‘whats taking you so long’

To open my eyes and realize

Analyse

Pause for a second and see through Gods eyes

The damage soul forgotten feeling unloved

I cried

Uncontrollable  

Pressed with feelings of sadness that is not my own

I feel your pain and explode

I sense your lost and drown

I walk in your shoes for just a brief moment

And I become flaccid like flowers blighted in the sun

Oh how I love you

What have I done

I cried some more clutching its transformation

Desolation into hope into restoration

Optimism, anticipation, faith

I believe

You are the God who restores

You’ve made me believe

Made me feel once again

Helped me see through Your eyes

I clobbered me with your compassion 





Copyright © 2013 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)
All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, 
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by 
any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or 
otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)

It is time to write...

I have just falling in love with a poem called 'write' by Sumi Mathai. It is an anthem that every writer should hold up high like a banner - sun-kissed and embraced by the wind. It caused me to pause and reflect - enjoy, breathe, refocus - on the brief moment of inspiration. Thank you Sumi Mathai.

Video for poem 'my identity'

I had published this poem on my blog a month ago and thought I'll do a quick video for it. I had performed it at a black history month event and an open mic session, but I was not very organised in ensuring that there was footage? Never mind...

My Identity Video

An Update On Me #1

The last 3 - 4 weeks have been quite hectic for me. I am still trying to adjust to having less free time in my life since doing this writing course and having to do homework. I have not written any poetry for a while and feel quite loss since being unable to write down my thinking onto paper or typed onto screen. Especially after an emotionally draining week that has left mentally tired and wanting to sit down and don't get up.One morning I had felt like a time bomb counting down the seconds. I kept thinking about writing a poem called "I am about to explode!" But I did not even have my notebook and pen to jot down a few words.

The writing course - it has been great learning about the theory of writing and understanding how to structure the ideas and the elements to think about when setting a scene, description, conversation and so forth. All very interesting maybe I might think about continuing the study afterwards. The other day I was thinking about the different parts that make up me and the paths I would like to follow regarding my writing. For instance I feel that I am a poet, a spoken word artist, a wannabe novelist.These 3 labels can be broken down further for instance I have loads of children book ideas floating in my head. As well as those for teenagers and poem collections. It just seems so overwhelming at times. And I do wonder how do I have the space within to be all three. Currently my heart aches for just one day a week where I can just write and be. I feel that I need to plan and organise whilst step out in faith. I am sure that time will be created if I just continue to do what I should be doing. I call it "just plodding on"... Doing what you need to be do. And when in the plodding state you can feel as rough as anything and not in the mood for rubbish.. but you just keep on plodding no matter what...

February already feels like a strange month for me. I guess the highs of the new year have faded away and now the real challenge begins. It is also strange as my focus has shifted slightly, actually quite a bit from my poetry. This month I was meant to complete x amount of poems, upload another video on you tube and perform at an open mic session. Has not happened yet. I have started to write down monthly goals and I need to remember that February is not over yet. There is still time. I was reminded the other day that I need to start thinking about 2 year and 5 year plans - of how to reach my dreams that have been birthed since the womb...

Jumper

Just submitted this to Magma Poetry magazine, their next issue has a clothing theme.

Jumper

You wrap yourself around me elegantly and internal sighs consume me from within
Memories flash by in floods and I see him
Standing there by the light by the window
And I smile and smell his scent, I am sure it is him
He wears the same jumper that tonight cuddles me in bed
My favourite woolly-warmth old with time and wisdom
I am sure you said it belonged to your father
That he use to wear it when engrossed in a book
A pipe balancing on his bottom lip
you said

The sky moods over its shades of grey reflect my current emotion
Sadness spreads and a tear escapes slowly
It trickles down and kisses my cheek
I miss you

I stroke you now and close me eyes imagining I am really feeling you
Kissing you, touching you
You use to belong to me everything of you was a part of me
Your jumper it helps and heals the pain
I would never go away
You said






Copyright © 2013 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)
All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, 
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by 
any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or 
otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)

narrative glimpse #2

Just a little something to sink your teeth into...

Taking off my sun glasses I felt blinded as my eyes took a while to adjust to the bright light. It was overwhelming and the distant slapping of sea wave to sand helped me to focus my scenery. The grey plastic frame was cool glued to my sweaty hot palm and I was able to admire the white sanded beach in its true colours. Not the various tones of blacks and greys that my eyes were enslaved to since I jumped of the bus. It is called a bus but it is a mini van. A shiny blue rectangle box on wheels driving along the mountainous lanes believing its name is Ferrari. Vomiting a dusty cloud of pollution its sickly smell of gasoline flooded through the opened windows and consumed all the passengers. The weight of the passengers caused the bus to groan at every sharp turn and my red painted nails had fearfully gripped the cling-film textured seats. The bus balanced close to the side of the cliff creating a glass road effect. Its birds-eye view was frighteningly beautiful and was unspoiled by the radio blasting the latest calypso tune. Lush green bush smothered the vista of mountains which were scattered with an assortment of tropical flowers and plants. Seat belts did not exist in this bus and our squashed bodies were free to knock about like wooden pins on a bowling alley. I kept apologising to the old lady sitting next to me. She smelt of coconut oil and looked so fragile but she managed to nod and smile a toothless smile at me. Her smooth brown skin was wrinkled with time and wisdom and I loved her style of dress. There was no connection between her paisley patterned bandanna head tie, stripy red and white top and outrageously flowered skirt. But I could relate to the array of silver Grenadian style bracelets and bangles that danced round her thick wrist like a hoola hoop on a waist. They reminded me of my Gran.

You moved me...

In 2012 I met someone who really inspired and challenged me. I needed to fix up and like Nike 'just do it'. As mentioned in another post, in 2012 there were a few reference points that caused me to rethink where I want to take me and my poetry/ writing/ whatever...

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You moved me

There was that something about you

You were something else

Your embrace brought sparks to mind

I saw dancers on your lips as your words

Were a balm

Soothing and healing me with your warmth

Thought provoking messages

Coded with my own definitions

Destiny claiming

Time to be advancing

I am reaching

You moved me

Your essence was a supplement needed to energize

Revitalize

It was your confident smile

Reassuring

Reminding me of past goals withered with time

And dust

My hope line

I am motivating

You moved me

That jive in your style

Its personality in captivating

Eyes watered with unique history

The smell of old books follow you

As you lead creative with cheekiness

Challenged with a sense of conquering

I am at the right time

You moved me

Thankfully I am inspired

You moved me video...






Copyright © 2013 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)
All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, 
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by 
any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or 
otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)

narrative glimpse #1

My feet feel snug as the warmth of my grey boots prevents the cold from sneaking in. The soles crunch the stone pavement of my front garden whilst I survey the bricked horizon. Bleak terrace cottage houses lean on each other looking fast asleep and the length of the road seems endless. It reminds me of a dream where you walk forever on a treadmill. Walking for miles but not going anywhere. Only sadly continuously revisiting and reliving the same scenery of life. Mirrored through the puddles on the roads are snapshots of the dark sky. It looks prettier when photographed at different angles happily showing off its vastness. I wrap my scarf tighter round my neck and chin and bury my nose deep; hoping that the cold smell would disappear. This darkness is odd at this time. It causes me to crave the comfort and warmth of my bed. To fluff up my pillow and dive into sleep bliss. If only. Reaching inside the house I skilfully drag the bulky pushchair out over the step. Its bright green colour is refreshing and foreign against the backdrop of the grey and brown tones. Singing baby babble awakens the sleeping houses with a sigh; her unrecognisable tune sounds welcoming and cute. If only it could bring out the summer and warmth; transforming the darkness into sunlight. Her little face appears out from her pink puffy coat; she is smiling and happy to be outside. I usher out my son with his autumn brown colour scheme and oversize grey knitted hat. He clambers out trying to grip the door frame for support whilst refusing to let go of his spiderman that daddy brought him. His expression looks grim as he looks at the sky and his bottom lip pushes out in a sign of protest. I zip up my jacket against the cold and double check that scarfs are wrapped tight and hats are covering ears. The endless road awaits and we gladly accept its habitual involvement in our morning routine.

Hello 2013

It has been a while since I have entered a new year and felt a deep sense of excitement for great things I believe are in store. 2013 does feel nebulous but I have a firm faithfulness that God is going to start something of significance. Something is out there. I can smell it in the air and taste it on the tip of my tongue. I am excited but do now why. I am filled with optimism that 2013 will be the apex of fulfilling my life (writing) dreams. I am realistic and know that the journey will seem interminable but I feel motivated enough to overcome, continue and plod on. 2012 had been a year of  rebuilding confidence and the birthing of opportunities; with the myriad inspiration at key moments. Goodbye 2012, hello 2013!