DIRECTED BY RON ALLEN
FRIED POETRY director Ron Allen says:
"An addiction is anything that keeps you from expanding and experiencing your deeper self."
Not limited to drug and alcohol addiction, FRIED POETRY, explores individual and societal addictions wherever we might find them, including those well-known killer addictions to fossil fuels, shopping, and military might.
FRIED POETRY is a skilletful of individual and group spoken word pieces and music.
HISTORY NOTES
History Notes from the past.
Talking about misplaced knowledge. Knowledge all of you should know.
Portugal went to Africa as enemies.
Then as friends.
Then as manipulators.
Then with the greed of her land
Touching the greed of our chiefton.
Our leaders.
Our fathers.
Our protectors.
From a greed within, they sold us into a life of bondage.
The bondage of chains ships and whips.
The bondage of the mind.
Taking us to the Islands and breaking our spirits.
Making us meek, humble and afraid.
Breaking up thought of ancient African Kingdoms.
They broke our spirits and we toil the soil.
We toil under the field of madness, the harvest of sadness.
States United for inhumanity.
History notes from the past.
Talking about misplaced knowledge. Knowledge all of you should know.
History notes about the Emancipation Proclamation. 1863.
The Buffalo solider fought so you could be free.
April 8, 1965 Lee surrender to Grant.
Five days later they assassinated Lincoln.
Reconstruction came and went.
The south made a deal with the north and we had codes.
We had Black Codes and a new type of bondage.
History notes from the past.
Talking about misplaced knowledge.
Knowledge all of you should know.
Listen to the sound of the drumbeats. [Drum solo]
The drums are sounding.
They're sounding through the jungle.
Sounding for you.
Sounding for me.
Sounding for unity.
Sounding for you to put the pieces together.
Listen to the voices of W.E.B. Du Bois, George Jackson and David Walker.
The voices of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King.
The voices of peace.
The voices of freedom are sounding.
You better listen.
-Melvin Ishmael Johnson
Pay Me, or Pay Me No Attention
Bewilders wild chile
With a whole lotta style
You talk b
My hair was always free
Dyed layer to the side
Pain, that's what I was running from
The substance, the whatever, the addiction
Became a runner, always on a mission
Hey, I got used to a certain condition
Addicted to more than just alcohol, smoke, or the dope I was even addicted to a false sense of hope
Constantly changing clothes so you can't see the pain I'm in trouble deep down inside
Trapped, just can't cope with bondage inside
I was living a real big fat lie
Not willing to work at trying to live
No, that's too much work
And you say there's nowhere for me I can run to
Living a real big lie too afraid to live
Too afraid, too coward, just gave up, don't want to try
On the wall, police drive outside on the wall
There I go, acting like it's legal
Oh, I know, I'll get high
Too afraid to die
"Hey girl, don't you have children? Go call them!"
No, I don't want to try,
I'll just abandon them for this drug
I think I am giving to myself this image I have portrayed
I'm not willing to die
-Sashae Siatui
Drinkin'
Hypnotic, robotic, walk in a trance
Hennessey you see is me
Indeed Corona, 211, eight ball in my head
Jim? Joey? Cisco, let's go!
Dreamin' about it
Got to have it
Go down smooth
Night Train callin'
Silk Satin crawlin' under my skin
I love you I suck on you all the daylong
Remy Martin, Alice-Cobra Magnum strong
Start to stumblin' keeps me fumblin' for some more change
Liquor store tryin' to close
Reachin' for the Vodka
Margarita, my tequila
I can't live withoutcha
-Pam Walls
SUBWAY SURFING
WALT WHITMAN SAID IT,
"I DIDN'T KNOW HOW MUCH BEAUTY I HAD INSIDE ME."
--TIL I CRIED
CRIED FROM JOY.
NOW, I'VE GOT SO MUCH TO DO
I DON'T FEEL A THING.
I GOT TO BREATHE DOWN
INTO MY BELLY.
WHEN MY HEAD WAS BIG AS A BASKETBALL
FULL OF TOXICITY,
I KNEW HOW TO DO IT.
BREATHE IT DOWN
MY SPINE ---> LET IT FILL
MY WHOLE BODY.
FEEL THAT PAIN
LIKE A FLOWER!
LIKE THE FLOWER IT IS.
I AM BEAUTIFUL WHEN I BREATTHE INTO THAT PAIN
AND IT ROLLS
ROARS
LIKE A WAVE:
BREAKS,
TURNS ITSELF INSIDE OUT:
WHITE FOAM.
THE LAST WILL BE FIRST
THE FIRST WILL BE LAST.
IF YOU DON'T SIT UP RIGHT
YOU CAN'T BREATHE TO YOUR BELLY
THE ENERGY GETS STOPPED.
WHEN YOU'RE IN HARMONY
ALL THE EMOTIONS ARE RIGHT TOGETHER
PACKED TIGHT LIKE SARDINES
IN AN ELEVATOR
ON THE SUBWAY.
SUBWAY SURFING
READY TO MOVE
ANY DIRECTION.
SADNESS TOUCHING FEAR
FEAR RUBBING UP AGAINST EXSTASY
WEEP FOR JOY.
OK NOW;
HERE'S HOW YOU DO IT.
SUBWAY SURFING.
LET'S GO.
GET ON THE TRAIN,
BROOKLYN BOUND D
OR B.
GET ON AT HOUSTON -BROADWAY
SECOND AVENUE
OR DELANCY.
"NEXT STOP EAST BROADWAY CHINATOWN".
THEN THE MANHATTAN BRIDGE TO
"HIGH STREET BROOKLYN"
THE F TRAIN AND THE A GO UNDERGROUND
THROUGH THE TUNNEL
TO BROOKLYN.
BUT THE B AND THE D TAKE THE BRIDGE.
IT'S MALIBU,
THE BIG ISLAND
I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT MANHATTAN BEACH.
BEST PLACE IN THE WORLD FOR SUBWAY SURFING.
THE TRAIN PULL OUT DELANCY GET FRONT OF THE FRONT CAR.
RIGHT BEHIND THE POLE.
HANG ON
LIKE EVERYONE NORMAL WITH ANY
SENSE.
THEN LET GO.
LOOK MOM NO HANDS.
TRAIN EMERGING FROM UNDERGROUND
VIBRATION,
GYRATION
ME UPRIGHT
RIDIN THAT WAVE.
WHOLE TRAIN FLOOR MY BOOGIE BOARD
ARMS OUT FOR BALANCE
HAWAIIAN SHIRT FLAPPIN
LEAN IN
LIST-IN
RESPONDING
WHOLE BODY LISTENING,
RIDIN
THAT
WAVE.
SUN RISING OVER BROOKLYN.
HOME OF WALT WHITMAN
CARPENTER
JOURNALIST
PUBLISHER
POET
SURFING ENDLESS WAVE
TO HIGH STREET
I ARRIVE BROOKLN
RIDIN THE CURL,
SPRAY IN MY HAIR
"I DIDN'T KNOW HOW MUCH BEAUTY I AM."
NEXT STOP: BODY ELECTRIC
-John Malpede
Spirit of Recovery
Spirit of Recovery, Spirit of Recovery, Spirit of Recovery
What are you doing on the ground, human
Ain't nothing on the ground, man its going to kill you
Hay rock what are you doing to the American
People
Making us unhappy, in the name of Jesus go
You cause me sickness and pain
Heartache
The way you think, no good, you're not welcome
Satan you want my mind, well you not going
To get it
There's something about our life
We will move Forward as Respectable people
In prayer we as people will prevail
PRAYER PRAYER PRAYER People
The Rock has no home with us
You mean that Little tiny No good For
Nothing Guest What
You are not going to have Nothing
Quit playing with your life in
God created All things, not Satan Satan, But God
-Howard L. Young, Jr.
"YOU, THE FLOWER AND THE GARDEN"
I am here because you brought me here.
I am the flower that you planted in your garden,
in your man made garden.
Look around you men.
See? your sister, daughter, girlfriend and mom.
See? the birth, beauty, nurture and warmth.
See? the sweat, the iron, the soap, the recipe.
See? the second hand citizen, salaries and status lower than yours.
See? the shoving around, her weakness, violence upon her,
the drugs placed between her mouth and her children, the punishment.
She doesn't want to be like you,
all she wants is for you to remember the flower in the garden,
the flower that lives inside of you;
to nourish it, to make sure it grows and blossoms and inspire beauty:
the beauty of taking care of each other,
you, the flower and the garden.
-Ibrahim Saba
Excess
This world needs to recover
from TV's, toys, jeans, trousers
TV junky, new couch junky, I-pod junky, junk food, car junk
Junk, junk, junk, junk
Things!
all the colors, tastes and smells
too many choices:
cereals, food, medicine
Stop producing, start living!
too much sugar, coffee, tea and oil
West can't live without goods from East
Now West is feasting
No feast for East,
no goodness
Enough IS enough
Stop this NOISE!
Beyond the horizon is up to us
Stop extracting, start giving!
Stop producing, start living!
Clean up Water, air, earth,
Governments!
Listen up
here are the experts
we have taken too much cause we got too little!
We are outside
And fight the fight
We know what it takes
Recovery,
Change!
-Henriette Brouwers
Addiction
Why why why
Addiction has been with me a long time
I keep doing the same things, going nowhere
I seem to do the same game to myself, why
These street drugs will bring you down
I know there is No Future in ANY ADDICTION
Why Do I repeat the same street
Picture it bringing sickness, pain
A person who holds a pipe, or a needle
Is going to self-destruct
What up with that
Going to jail, behind a street drug, slowly dying sad
It ain't no fun sleeping on the ground
Ain't no fun being dirt, not taking a shower
Ain't it a shame Ain't it a shame man, ain't it a shame.
-Howard L. Young, Jr.
Freedom from Self
The truth is mankind is obsessed with self.
Self centered, self-obsessed, selfish, selfish and selfish.
All we think about most of the time is:
Me, me, me, me, me, good old me, no, no, no, me, me, me.
Obsessed how we look.
Obsessed how we sound.
Obsessed how we smell.
Obsessed how successful we are.
Obsessed with what we have accomplished.
Consumed by thoughts of yesterday, today and tomorrow.
All we think about is good old me, good old me.
Freedom occurs when one divorces oneself from self.
When one sacrifices self and thinks about others.
Mankind you are not created to be served but to serve.
The more you serve the freer you will be from self.
As they say, you must die in order to live.
Freedom does not occur free,
So be humble thy self, and serve others, and you will surely be free.
-Aklilu Kahsai
I Skinned My Thumb
I pick the skin around my thumbs
I do
I do it
I do it frequently actually
I cannot seem to stop this picking It's turned to obsession
Resolutions expire year after year
How much time would I free with control of this fixation?
I am sitting there calmly, not reading, just sitting
When suddenly I notice it reaching
My index finger starts to rub as if thinking It goes deeper, this finger, as it starts to focus
The spot it has claimed has ridges, loose edges, something untidy
And I've got to clear this unseemly completely
This picking creates a rhythm, which slowly takes over
Rip, pick, small tear,
5, 10, 15 minutes, an hour
I do not care who sees me
I am alive with this burning need to make clean
I wish I could pick at strings on a banjo
And simple melodies strum
Quiet evenings on a park bench marking the twilight
With chords E flat C major and D
Floating with a firefly's yellow engine Into nearly evening
But I circle and I circle and these circles grow wider
I travel up and down my ever-lastin' thumb
Tender, pink skin bleeds as I worry it round
For a moment I am remorseful as I stand sucking
What, oh what, have I gone and done?
I miss the world around me, the palm trees and the Sundays
I promise myself that once I've reclaimed virgin territory
I can rest easy, relaxed, and hang up my picks and pulls
And clip my nails serenely
The scenery hovers, coming gently into focus
Tall oaks and baby-blue sky
Drift magnolia smells towards me
This awakens the spirit of my world warrior Who fights battles in the world outside her
My problems become much less magnified
I will sit and I might ponder or I might let time pass idly by
Magenta toes just painted reflect purple sunsets
Crickets chitter and nightingales call
I can feel the light descending
As I mark the days close with a burst of language
And pluck the stars appearing one by one
-Melina Bielefelt
I feel
I am very pleased with my life as I speak
But when I speak! I know there are places
I sometimes wonder
I am a tree that feels the wind
As a tree I would help people stay warm
If they don't cut me down
I will help save the ozone
I am the water that runs down the
Mountaintop, in which I move through cracks
Making my way through Life
I, we are, so blessed to be alive
I am the land, you can see so far away
The wonderful creation of God
I often say to my self, there is a voice
That is inside of me, saying
Believe in me, I feel so good that I am able to stand
Clear of all Earthly matter.
-Howard L. Young, Jr.
IN
I HEAR WORDS
I COVER WITH FAT
I HEAR HATE
I COVER WITH FAT
I COVER WITH FAT, MORE FAT
I GRAB, THEN GRAB, SLAG, THEN GRAB
THOUGHT AGAIN, THEN GRAB, WAIT AGAIN, THEN GRAB
FULL A LITTLE, EMPTY, THEN GRAB
GRAB TO GRIN
GRAB TO GRIND
GRABBED TO LEARN HOW TO GIVE
GRABBED TO EAT THE LIES
GRABBED TO FEEL ATE
GRABBED TO FEEL INATE
PLAIN FACED
I BREAK UP AND SIT
DRAGGED AND DRAGGED
IT IS DEBATE AND I EAT AGAIN
-Patricia Smith
Audience Comment:
If our society's policy isn't based on how do you deal with someone you care about who's taking drugs, then our drug policy is a how to deal with people you don't care about, and probably about how to deal with people you hate, you demonize, you're willing to put in jail, you're willing to shoot and everything else. And that's why we have the drug policy that looks like the one we do, right? And that's a serious problem.
LAPD 's mission is to create performance work that connects lived experience to the social forces that shape the lives and communities of people living in poverty. LAPD has for years worked with drug recovery programs in Los Angeles and other cities in the US (including Miami, Detroit and Cleveland). In 2001 LAPD initiated its "Agents & Assets" project, which specifically looks at drug policy and the effects of drug policy on individuals and communities in the US and throughout the world.
FRIED POETRY is a skilletful of individual and group spoken word pieces and music.
Los Angeles Poverty Department’s FRIED POETRY project (2006) is made possible with the support of SRO Housing Inc., the National Endowment for the Arts, the City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs and the Los Angeles County Arts Commission.
http://lapovertydept.org
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Fried Poetry crew: Aklilu Kahsai, Charles Jackson, Alexander the Poet, Henriëtte Brouwers, Ron Allen, Sashae Siatui Zackery, KevinMichael Key, Howard Young, Tony Parker, Kareem Muhammad, Rickey Mantley, Melvin Johnson, Ibrahim Saba.
