This spoken word piece was interesting because I am finally living out what I was talking about in it. I was struggling with pursuing my dream and finding my voice in my art in the midst of people around me doubting my ability. Here are the lyrics:
Ive been on birth control for a while now.
conception contraceptive
introspective homicide
aborting my objectives
Held down by the stresses of external latexes
and a suppressed diaphragm is all that I am left with
I’ve been given a gift
a seed given to me
that if planted would grow up to be bigger than me.
Like a fetus in me.
A talent if mishandled would be born and tagged as one with special needs.
or a still born dream
that is still born and seen
but on the inside is lifeless and not at all what it seems
a body with no soul
like a movie with no theme
a beginning with no ending and nothing in between.
see it is my talent, my vision, my dreams, my spoken word, what you see
my baby
put in me to raise
its face is a stage
its fingertips spill ink
that it smears on the page
that its tears can erase
the umbilical cord is its praise
with drums for lungs.
blue veins filled with bass from the chest
and it teethes as I am reaching for the keys
on the breast, if I wait any longer it will gnaw on me.
The feeling in my heart was my EPT.
no need to take shots
It uses critics as pampers
first crawl then off balance then eventually stand up
then face the challenges the world will offer.
But it wouldn’t if it knew what that world will cost it.
See I stopped caring if it died and I lost it.
My pride was exhausted,
my life was a mess
I miscarried the dream
and I failed the test.
cause If my writing gets to where there is no life in it then honestly whats the point of writing it.
Even if you like the words I throw together and the way that I perform you are still wasting time and we should all go home.
so no claps and no applause for me at all.
Cause the baby’s not mine like paternal court
Im just the surrogate.
An urn of sorts, but in reverse
with no signs of any child support.
I’ve been on birth control for a while now.
conception contraceptive
introspective homicide
aborting my objectives
Held down by the stresses of external latexes
and a suppressed diaphragm is all that I am left with
Psst
Hey girl
Hey girl
Excuse me misses
Im not trying to have sex wicha
but I am in a missionary position
Im just trying to share his vision clearly wicha
Listen,
theres somebody thats very dear to ya
that your nearly missing
Im just hear to clear up the issues and minimize the distance.
so whats up?
See I even hollered different
Im a different kind of dude
See I focused on the narrow while yawl focused on the broads
I had premarital vision
and mounted insurmountable odds
With the wisdom of a pastor or a friar
with no time for tater-totts.
Im like a convict with no priors
cause my record was wiped out
like a cd by a magnet
or one baking in the Son
But all that means nothing without my baby
without my baby I am numb.
What’s the point of being saved
born again to be remade and then stay young.
If before me there was many, but after me there will none.
What a waist.
God should have saved my space in heaven for someone better if Im fake.
Or I flake like the weather.
Or escape like a slave
Or like a zombie from the grave.
Im just a walking corpse.
A thriller on the stage.
But in my heart Im lost.
So I disapeared from the stage
didnt have nothing to say
no babies being made
nobody getting saved
just bodies in the grave
everybody getting aids
Its like I had a labodomy
no knowledge in my brain
no wisdom on the page
like a condom on my tounge
in the end my words where wasted
they were trashed or were flushed
Invetro was discussed
and prayer was the drug
intercession medicine
to wake my baby up!
I’ve been on birth control for a while now.
conception contraceptive
introspective homicide
aborting my objectives
Held down by the stresses of external latexes
and a suppressed diaphragm is all that I am left with
See my breath is the key
But I was left breathless
If I couldnt speak
How could I be effective
But, It wasnt just me
other people became my patch and my pill
my yaz compact
I call them henna tattoos
they became attached to my vision for 3 months
left and then never came back.
they didn’t believe in my baby
instead they degraded its life like spermicide
inside my ear canal till sterile words came out my mouth
Un-firtalizers whose sole purpose in life and on this earth was to keep my baby from birth.
No impact in my verbs.
A relaxed vocab with no action.
Treated me like they were Ceaser
and everytime I speak I recieve backlashes
Tightening my lips like cramps in hips
I need a seesection just to unleash this.
But they hit below the surface
I call em get under your skinner’s
but I dont have the patience to scratch em.
thats why I dont love these itches.
These dream killers
Ive been shooting pellets at my belly just to kill this feeling.
Like the Chineese governement
May be allowed one baby but the rest they killing
and only if its the good sex.
and if their willing.
Ive been on birth control for a while now.
conception contraceptive
introspective homicide
aborting my objectives
Held down by the stresses of external latexes
and a suppressed diaphragm is all that I am left with
Its one thing to have a baby, its another to acknowledge it.
cause this all means nothing if I dont tell you who the father is.
Birth Control
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