Re: Naturally a Disaster

Naturally
This could be disasterous
Mixing fire with air
Is just asking for a massacre
Or it may be a masterpiece
Its all in perspective
What you choose to see
Like others look at my harmony as crazy
As if to be daring,
consistantly sharing the hidden pieces of me
is a definitive indication of my insanity.
Not her, she gets it.
Sees it as fulfilling the destiny
I was born into.
Perspective
Glass half full vs half empty
I wonder how many,
times she has given the same excuse in order to not be loved.
I wonder if i ran with arms wide open through her celestial rains to the eye of brewing storms
If she let me keep her safe from harm.
See my storm chasing as fearlessness in the face of resistance
I steadily keep the course charted by love
Direct from my spirit to hers,
i hope she knows my bag is always packed
in case of emergency all she need do is break the glass.
I will stand watch in day
and at night, keep vigil for her safe return to herself.
She says she is a disaster
So naturally this mixing of fire and air may be disasterous
Or maybe once perspective shifts it could just be a masterpiece
All depends on what you choose to see

Re: Naturally a Disaster

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

The Stickyness of Honey

The old me would have started drama.
Would have directed attention to the situation
as to make it the "attack" you've made it in your mind.
The younger, less evolved,
more self involved,
version of me would have gathered all our mutual friends for a viewing of your hypocricies. Popped popcorn,
served refreshments,
and really have made you the center of attention.
The young me,
scared of her power,
would have cowered in your presence,
crumbled to her knees begging for the opportunity
to be back in your good graces. But this me,
the one who sees too clearly her future's reflection,
refuses to re-align her position
to anything less then erect and direct.
I no longer hide behind masks or kiss anyone's ass
when in any given sitiuation.
Even one involving a previous infatuation
will not make me faulter in my resolve.
I prayed for a solution,
came to you with arms wide open and you made the choice to not evolve.
Like so many before you,
you got lost,
in the memory of anothers violation,
putting on me a sanction that is undeserved.
Calling me names as if I came at you wild crazy when
Even in my anger I was humble, still showed you respect.
I put my feelings down
but to no names was it directed. Its okay,
i now understand
i can't force you to be a woman, you must choose to be.
You must up yourself to a higher level of existing
before we could ever actually be friends.
Since this is where our journey ends,
i wish you a safe and swift path of peace and enlightenment.
Until we meet again.

The Essence

You wanna stop the violence
Then you need to break the silence
Cause thats the real killer
Shallow and fickle
she leads you to believe everything is better then what it seems
She's the carrot leading our stallions to live in trap games and pipe dreams
Keeping young women slaves
and turns young men into feinds

You wanna stop the violence,
then stop the silence,
its the silence that wills us
strength to endure grating words and stifle screams
Leaves mother huddled in puddled corners
while fixated eyes of her youth decipher false truths of what a man should be
Equates abuses into lovers way
See silence taught mother it had to be this way
That he only "beats me because he loves me, just in his own way"
It is in the silence that mother taught  daughter to believe
she should never be heard and always only seen
So daughter shifts her focus to that cash money,
her entire world is c.r.e.a.m
Fuck niggas, get money,
So by age 14,
she had lost her virginity 
Misplacing values like the keys for her shiny new mercedes
Daughter is now the next video hoe-fessional on a small screens
Trading in her platinum for a little bling bling
You say stop the violence but its the silence that is killing us
Made older brother have to hit the block
Two time felon he can't get a job
So he goes with what he got
That semi-auto, or maybe the glock
That late night,
distracted by his scheming,
got knocked by the cops,
3rd time's the charm,
he decides to flee.
Now big brother resides in gangstas paradise,
watching down over me

You wanna stop the violence
then stop this silence,
the pretending,
that you're knowledge is unending because you can read.
Not sharing our knowledge,
asking no questions
repeating all lies
Patronize and antagonize each other
then be willing to pop a pill to get by
instead of building community
not networks,
I'm talking organic unity
What happens when we think of a we and not just a you or me
Where we lift our voices loud and declare we are her
e and we will not continue to live in a state of dispair.

Its in the silence  when we fail to comprehend
that nothing is what it seems
and that bitch known as pride
only leads to a fall so steep,
you may never land.
And no one will hear you scream.

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Holla back

[**please note: this is a call and response poem, written for performance]

When i raise my hands i want you to say poet [**]

Get it?
   Got it?
       Good!
Lets try one time..

I am a ** (poet)

Damn right i am
And a dope one at that
From my first time at bat
I been doing my thing
Cause i am a ** (poet)

A person of enlightenment
Telling truths to teach you something
But will you listen as i shine in the light.of my soul's glow?
Or will you continue to speak without listening
Regurgitating all the shit you don't know
About me?
I am a ** (poet)

A potentially over-enthusiastic talent passing time in a race amongst rats
Roaring queen of the jungle but i refuse to eat scraps
i go the route of starving artist
Giving energy to the grind
So my hustle is nourishing to the body, soul, and mind
I am a **(poet)

A preview of every thing to come
The past, present, and future wrapped into one
i share my gift wih you,
the worthy,
The nerdy,
The strong and the hurting,
those in need of healing,
Those who share my feelings that when the madness ends
someone will need to step in and lead us.
Trust my words
the world will always need us, to serve up more then the bullshit they feed us
I am a** (poet)

I know the revolution will not be televised
because we never believed when they told us lies,
whitewashed our history to damn near extinction,
replaced our crowns and treasures with cautionary measures, 
putting on full display their fears of us
I am a **(poet)

I know our power lies
in the soul we lay on lines
and not online,
cause we live our lives in real time not virual reality.
Its no wonder these busters don't  have a grasp on reality,
cause its too harsh for their "delicate sensabilities"
and if it were up to me
they'd all get a bullet to their medulla abongatta
Some shit thats spoken makes me channel the  honeymooners
["why i aughtta"|
But i don't cause
I'm a ** (poet)

I know the power i hold comes from a souce greater then me.
I'm plugged in to the outlet of the universe,
violence is so unnecessary.
I'm a ** (poet)

A person of enlightenment telling truths to teach you something about peace,
about harmony,
and about being.
I'm not always lyrically inclined to complexities in my word play cause i want everyone  to understand what i am saying.
This is not an attack on those who are
just my way of relaying my deep admiration.
So deep in fact
i don't dare immitate them.
So you know its real.
That there is a message here. 
for you.
Love jesanschez the **(poet)

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Untitled [for you]

She is to me
everything that life should be
Warm,
inviting,
courteous,
kind
With an unparalled inner strength 
voracious spirit
& curious mind
i wish she could be apart of my life
But i am mearly a pauper
Unworthy of such royalty
Her favor is divine
I remain silent in her presence
as if my development was arrested by her enticing manipulation
of language and prose
I fail to possess the vocabulary that is necessary to gain her attention
So secretly
I write love poems
declaring my hidden affections until the day
I am equipped with more then just good intentions
Because
She is to me
Everything that life could be
sultry,
sometimes sour
but mostly sweet
With a
a sunrise in her smiling eyes
i long to get lost in the recesses of her mind
Let her
lyrical voice caress parts
former lovers previously left for dead
Reviving them/me
to a hightened state of being
as she retells stories of triumps and former strifes
i wish we were more then friends in this life/ in time
Maybe in the next go round
Her soul will seek me out
pick up on the sound of my bleeding heart
And we'll dance into moonlight under cloaks of stars
She will let me wrap her in my arms
Become willing victim to my awkward charms
Because to me
She is everything
i want life to be
Dedicated to self yet her giving knows no bounds
She is majestic like the silver lining on dark clouds
or the the eyes of a black panther
Striking in her gaze
Strong in her stance
Patient in her word,
healing in her hand,
sensitive in her spirit,
Protected in a prayer
Wrapped up in the perfection
& beauty of love
If only she could see what I see
She would know
that to me
She is everything life would be
If only she would have me.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Day 2_fin

And so the night concludes
for the heroine,
awash in a sea of beauty,
a favor to a friend

She begins to begin again
Scouring space for spiritual scraps
Eager to be of service
She slinks her body through crowds of brown bodies in heat
In search of a dance

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

No words

I haven't written a poem today
Nor did I yesterday
Nor the day before
Not because I don't want to
Because I do
Not because I can't
Because I can
Simply for the fact that my heart wishes not to lie
About feelings I no longer possess.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Uncle & father

I watched them from afar
Intensely
Brothers of my blood
As disconnected and unrelative as two could be
Communing in cramped quarters for laughs

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Day 4

Today caught me by surprise
Unexpected crowd
the same results
Freestyle
#12DaysofArt

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

1st position

Having never taken a ballet class in her life,
this girl was inspired to write,
not to move,
(a choice proven more suitable for a such a fiery & fierce soul, the voices nearly drove her crazy) though she keeps a steady pace in her race against time & circumstance
Had she only been given the chance
she could've be been a beautiful dancer.
Could've grown up to be a prima ballerina,
clothed in the full facade.
Jet black hair straightened into tight chinion,
glowing skin reminiscent of the recently polished
mahogany piano that plays just for her.
Every note written to highlight her perfect posture &  form,
as practiced as her smile .
She dreams to be
the first
black girl in her hood to do something,
anything!
Other then grow up to be a statistic.
But She never listened
when grand mother would say to stand up strait,
because a lady doesn't walk that way.
She imagines what grandmother would say
if she could see her sweet dumplin now.
Would she be proud of how baby turned out?
Or would she be struck with shock at how madness abounds
How chaos rules her life with a wit sharper then Oya's blades.
How she nourishes herself on anxieties and rage.
Living every moment as it is her last,
because she cast a spell of death on this page.
In history
She is not even mentioned,
not remotely detected in a  retrospective,
Another black girl lost
In her thoughts
she wonders
If grand mother would be proud. If she could see her now.
Would it be a shock to find her puddin'/dumplin'/ funny valentine was a lesbian?
Would she question from whence it began? 
Would she know it was her love that made it possible
for baby girl to understand it was possible to be loved unconditionally?
The possible prima ballerina wonders...
woulds she?
Still love me?
Would christian hearted,
god fearing,
bible toting/quoting
grand mother still love me?
When i am nothing of what i promised to be...

J§
www.sanschez.wordpress.com
www.facebook.com/jsanschez

Day 2_part 2

Relief fills her lungs with the sudden rush of cold on flesh upon her train station exit.
8:05
She's got time and doesn't plan to waste it.
Platform heels bind size 9 feet into the image of 6's
A whrilwind of steps
Manipulate time & distance
She makes it
5 blocks in 7 minutes
Triumphant
tip toes through back door
As if avoiding paparazzi
The candle light her phone booth
For clark kent transition
5 minute stretch & meditation is needed
A brief conversation with ancestors is healing
She speaks until words are no more

She greets them in silence
Stone face and full of fire
The drums sound
Releasing fury for make believe self-destruction
She Submerge herself in sin
Slink out in bliss
Skin sunkissed by fernels through amber
light Oshuns return
the illusion is complete
As the goddess takes her leave.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Day 2

A velvet sheeth lays across the sky
Its only 5pm

Hurried steps down cobblestoned streets
Desolation sourrounds her
Is it possibly the zombie apocolypse?
Dead eyes without direction and a foul temper set her on path.

Last minute mantra
Restoring faith in self
During the ten minute wait
Freight elevator
Stand clear of the closing gate
And Wait
Bing
Bing
Bing
Bing
Bing. Here.

Minimalist design

100 people on white walls
200 eyes on her low profile
White wine & brushetta in hand
She stands center of the make shift stage

Enunciation and projection is key
So she slows rhythm
Increases trebel
Drops the bass
In her alto tone
These bombs have no casualties

Muted applause
Exit gallery left
Passing aquaintence
Kind words exchange
Flittering off into crisp winter air
She is satiated; temporarily

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Day 1

Acoustic guitar switches players like who got next in a checker game
Sit at the grown up table
Play chess
In this cypher of wits
You better be yoyr best
Version if self
Determined with glances
Reflection divine

I am magic
Majeasty
Ethereal body
Extraordinary mind

Sing a song acapella
A blues freestyle

A good night for making music and friends.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Dreamers

She is a lover of love

A hopeless romantic
A dreamer

She believes in miracles
true love
Fairy tales
Happy endings
And every other good thing we teach our daughters to believe

Skipping over lessons of how to fill this constant need
How to not wear her heart on exposed sleeves
Or how to stay together everytime another lover leaves.

So she searches endlessly
Often acting desperately
For a half to make her whole

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com