Author's Notes: For me, this piece represents how I see slam poetry. It is also the essence of my inner revolutionary. It basically bares my soul to the cyber-world. I am not sure of my religion as of yet, but I am a very spiritual person. It seems very odd to me on paper because it's meant to be performed, but oh well. It was a labor of love and I hope it's as good as I felt when I was writing it. Enjoy


This is not a poem

Repeat: This is not a poem

I can't find a label for what I'm feeling

Can't find a name for what I spit

I see poets everywhere, but can't identify

My inner muse is shy

In her perception of reality

But explodes on stage

She holds the mike like her life force

As beautiful and fragile as her spirit

Lyrical blasphemies are a whispered prayer

A plea for impossible miracles

To the GOD of Muslims, Christians and Jews

I find solace in my words

But this is not a poem

It is an absolution

Dear LORD yes

I must confess

I hide the real me behind blonde hair

And indecipherable metaphors

My anger may boil over

But I imprison emotion behind my buttoned lips, so

Please forgive me, GOD

But my verbal transgressions allow me to open up

Talk is cheap so I don't do much

But words are precious jewels

Worthy of protection

Eternal preservation

I carry this legacy in my womb

With my unborn children

I find solace in my words

But this is not a poem

It is a revolution

My words march for peace

And shatter the walls of my solitary confinement; see,

I'm only 5 feet tall

And society has always smothered my delicate frame

But can't touch my spirit

She stands tall at 100 feet

And towers over the choking black smoke of conformity

I think deeper

Cuz my lines come full circle and hug the curves of my own body

I feel deeper

Cuz I wince at the sight of blood and teardrops

Despair tugs at my heartstrings

I wanna write a love poem for everyone who cries; I,

Wanna give everyone a notebook and pen

So the truth can speak

And the blind can see

And force Dear Leader to stop hiding behind the American Dream

Pinch me, I'll wake up

Like a politician's promise

Oaths and pledges up in smoke

The cry for freedom is nothing new

The sounds of a revolution are ancient

Murmured alleluias mingled with the clicking of prayer beads

Merged in the melody of spiritual revolt

Can I get a witness…

I will NOT

Let a country that used to thrive on diversity become a Christian state

And it scares me

Cuz the safety of the free world

Depends on a man who chokes on mini-pretzels

And he may believe that humans and fish can coexist peacefully

But I believe

That the administration misunderestimated the power of the people

Who refuse

Who refuse


To go to Iraq for a death sentence before they can legally buy booze

They pay your way through college if you live to go back home

Recruiters lying through their bleached white teeth

I see deeper

Cuz I read between the fine print and know the truth behind Selective Service

I hear deeper

Cuz I know the sound of liberation doesn't lie between the cracks of gunshots

I find solace in my words

But this is not a poem

It is a promise

A promise for peace

A promise for change

A promise for hope

A promise for the opening of minds and hearts, for enlightenment

That enables us to revolt

This is not a poem

Repeat: This is not a poem

It is a confession

A Promise

A Revolution

An Absolution

A Hope

A Warning

A Revelation

But above all things

It is my declaration

I treasured the experience of writing this poem. It wasn't something that simply poured out of me like most poems do. It started out as one line in my head: "This is not a poem." I worked on it for 2 solid weeks until it was perfect, or as perfect as anything can be in this world. Post reviews about my pure untarnished soul (this poem) cuz they make my life complete. : ) Peace