Hanging out on da Cultural Corner

So I told you to remind me about the time buschick and I were in For Colored Girls Who Have Considered the Rainbow When The Rainbow Was Enough.  Well I am telling you the story now, so markit of your list of reminders for the OG.  It was a production put on by our Black Student Association.  It was ok who knows. It was fun.  I was the lady and green and she was the lady in orange.  The lady in green has a great piece (soon too follow). What really sucked about our performance is it happened to coincide with a professional production of the poem or at least I remember it that way.  We still got a nice turnout; it was part of the Rice Theatrical Festival.  Another interesting fact is that Ntozake Shange was a guest professor at Rice (long before I came).  Anyway, the Lady in Green has a great monologue about her stuff in an interest to share some colorful culture with you I will share the piece of the poem that belongs to the lady in green.  I remeber it was really fun to perform.  The play is actually not a play it is a choreopoem, which is cool.  I think it is a genre made up by the author, but maybe not.  No matter what it is, ITS HOT.  Read this excerpt from the choreopoem and let me know what you think. If you want, I can lend you my copy so you can read the whole thing or I’ll even come and read it to you before bed if your nice!

somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff

not my poems or a dance I gave up in the street

but somebody almost walked off wid all of my stuff

like a kleptomaniac working hard & forgettin while stealin

this is mine/this ain’t yr stuff

now why don’t you put me back & let me hang out in my own self

somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff

& didn’t care enuf to send a note home saying

i was late for my solo conversation

or two sizes too small for my own tacky skirts

what can anybody do wit something of no value on

a open market/did you getta dime for my things

hey man/where you goin wid all my stuff/

this is a woman’s trip & i need my stuff

to ohh & ahh abt/daddy I gotta mainline number

from my own shit/now wontchu put me back& let

me play this duet/wit this silver ring in my nose/

honest to god/ somebody almost run off wit alla my stuff/

& i didn’t bring anything but kick & sway of it

the perfect ass for my man & none of it is theirs

this is mine/ ntozake ‘her own things’/ that’s my name/

now give me some stuff/ I see ya hidin my laugh/ & how i

sit wif my legs open sometimes/ to give my crotch

some sunlight/ & there goes my love my toes my chewed

up finger nails niggah wif the curls in yr hair/

mr. louisiana hot link/ I want my stuff back/

my rhythms & my voice/open my mouth/ & let me talk ya

outta /throwin my shit in the sewar/ this is some delicate

leg whimsical kiss/ i gotta have to give to my choice/

without you runnin off wit alla my shit/

now you cant have me less I give me away/ & i waz

doin all that/ til ya ran off on a good thing/

who is this you left me wit/ some simple bitch

widda bad attitude/ I want my thighs/

 i want my arm wit the hot iron scar/ & my leg wit the

flea bite/  i want my calloused feet & quick language back

in my mouth/ fried plantains/ pineapple pear juice/

sun ra & joseph & jules/ I want my own things/ how i lived them/

& give me my memories/ how i waz there/

you cant have them or do nothing wit them/

stealin my shit fromme/don’t make it yrs/makes it stolen

somebody almost run off wit alla my stuff/ & i was standin

there/ lookin at myself/ the whole time

& it waznt a spirit took my stuff/ waz a man whose

ego walked around like Rodan’s shadow/ waz a man faster

n my innocence/ waz a lover/ i made too much

room for/almost run off wit alla my stuff/

& i didn’t know I’d give it up so quik/ & the one running wit it/

don’t  know how he got it & i’m shoutin this is mine/ & he don’t

know he got it/my stuff is the anonymous ripped off treasure

of the year/did you know somebody almost got away with me/

me in a plastic bag under their arm/me

danglin on a string of personal carelessness/ i’m spattered wit

mud & city rain/ & no i didn’t get a chance to take a douche/

hey man/this is not your prerogative i gotta have me in my

pocket/ to get round like a good woman shd/& make the poem

in the pot or chicken in the dance/ what i got to do/

i gotta have my stuff to do it to/

why don’t ya find yr own things/ & leave this package

of me for my destiny/ what ya got to get from me/

i’ll give give it to ya/ yeh /i’ll give it to ya/

round 5:00 in the winter/ when the sky is blue-red/

& Dew City is getting pressed/ if it’s really my stuff?

ya gotta give it to me/ if ya really want it/ i’m

the only one/can handle it

 

<snap, snap, snap>  I should re-memorize this and perform it at the Candy Lady, do you think I could take Big Bux? LOL

 

I hope a production of this comes to the H soon. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. You should definitely catch it if its in yo city.  There are few other places in the poem I love too, like the one about sorry after this that niggah will be back tomorrow,sayin ‘i’m sorry’ .  Story of my life Ntzoke has been in my business.  LOL . If you nice maybe I’ll share an excerpt from that. Have a great weekend and protect yo’ stuff.  I wouldn’t want anybody walkin’ off wit it!

 

Be EZ,

OG

Hey bc…. c is for choreopoem!

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2 Responses to Hanging out on da Cultural Corner

  1. Poppy says:

    Interesting poem… Kind of pre-spoken word, huh? I could see you performing that piece.Jill Scott said something interesting about Spoken Word recently. She said that she isn\’t really a fan of it because there is more emphasis on the reader\’s acting than the words themselves. I think that her point is valid. Thanks for writing the words down. I can fill in the delivery on my own and still feel the passion behind it.

  2. Nique says:

    Yes pre-spoken word, also know as WRITTEN WORD!! LOL I love this whole poem, the older I get the more it speaks to me. I think all poetry should be read before you see it performed. That way it really speaks to you. Reading is FUNdamental. I think the thing about spoken word is it is about the performance. If the author is performing his/her own work I think that’s cool ‘cause we get the poetry delivered as they wanted us to hear it when they wrote it. Sometimes poetry is best when interpreted through the readers eyes that is what makes good poetry to me. Just my 2 cents.

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