Jar of Thoughts

When bleeding

mikerosenwrites:

be sure to use the canvas properly

there is only so much ink to go around

and boy, you got a story to tell

you best tell it right

poemsbydes:

buttonpoetry:

Desiree Dallagiacomo & Kaycee Filson - “Real Sex Tips”

"I am silencing the throats that call me object."

Performing for New Orleans at the 2014 National Poetry Slam. Subscribe to Button on YouTube!

Oh hey! Kaycee Filson & I wrote this poem and Button Poetry filmed it.

It’s about the objectification of women’s bodies and how we internalized that and are working to unlearn the patriarchy.

I hope you enjoy.

via poemsbydes · originally by buttonpoetry

buttonpoetry:

Javon Johnson - “Last Conversation Between Malcolm X And His Daughter”

"It is your job to show them how they murdered a human being."

Performing in the Button Showcase during the 2014 National Poetry Slam. Subscribe to Button on YouTube!

"SEPTEMBER HOROSCOPES

virgo, actively seek balance.

libra, trust these are the right decisions.

scorpio, separate fact from feeling.

sagittarius, remind yourself how you got this far.

capricorn, it is a time of luck.

aquarius, unpack your current fear.

pisces, take on this challenge.

aries, you will find a place to belong.

taurus, let it happen.

gemini, toast to self-acceptance.

cancer, embrace the love around you.

leo, you are safe here."
— SEPTEMBER HOROSCOPES, by Blythe Baird (via nthngbttr)
via neekaisweird · originally by blythebrooklyn

buttchou:

Mike Rosen - When God Happens

Before the towers collapsed into a white noise of smoke and bodies and strewn paper,
there were people in the windows.
They clutched family photos and they jumped; 
became human tombstones, falling into the shrapnel of a city covered in the ash of its own citizens -
a city shapeless and somewhere else, riving as it fell.

That night, I feared everything but darkness,so I slept on the floor, at the foot of my father’s bed.
It’s a place where monsters and planes are made easy work of.
That morning, I went to the window.
I wiped my hand along the sill,
I watched my fingers turn gray and I thought: bodies
but I didn’t want to wash them.
I wanted to go to the roof. I did.

I saw the smoke crawling into a postcard.
The smell was everywhere.
I wondered if they would change the postcards now.

Put smoke on what once were towers and then address them to our relatives in Texas and Carolina
where they were rearing to go to war and say,

"I wish- I wish you were here.
I wish you could see these clouds forming under the clouds.
I wish you could touch this smell with your nostrils every time you breathe.
I wish you could run your hands along your window and wonder how the bodies got through the door,
and see what it’s like to live in the most Beverly Hills version of a war zone,
and realize what war might just look like, feel like,
taste like in your breakfast cereal when you realize you’re sitting there, digging Cheerios out your bowl 
when they’re digging bodies out of the ground.

That day was not about your God or their god,
because when God happens no one is right.
These were times when we lied to our children.
When you lie to children, no one is right.
I can’t make this any clearer to you.

That day had no black or white,
'cause under that rubble everyone was gray.
Under that rubble was no red, white or blue.
Under that rubble there was just gray.

Now I know… New Yorker’s, we talk a lot.
Sorry, but I’m taking this one back for my home,
'cause under that rubble was not your country.
Under that rubble was our city, our town
our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters.

That day no one in New York grabbed rifles.
We grabbed bandannas and shovels and we started digging because our lives were underneath that rubble,
and the firemen were looking for the bodies.

It has been ten years and my friend is still looking for her father’s body.
Your war is not helping her find him;
Your war has done nothing but add to the list of boys like me,
who wish to sleep at the feet of their fathers’ beds.

My father worked nowhere near the Trade Center,
but I didn’t know that then.
What I knew was that the phone lines were down,
and that until i heard his voice, so was he.

Your war has done nothing but add to the list of boys in New York, in Iraq, in Afghanistan - 
the list of boys who are still waiting for their fathers to come home.”

via buttchou

blythebrooklyn:

buttonpoetry:

Blythe Baird - “Girl Code 101” (NPS 2014)

"Give me one accomplishment of Mary’s that did not involve her vagina."

Performing during prelims at the 2014 National Poetry Slam.

big shouts and thanks to button poetry for sharing this poem o’ mine! xoxo

via blythebrooklyn · originally by buttonpoetry
"We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won’t flinch at when they find. We all have sirens in our light."
— Andrea Gibson (via ohandreagibson)
via medleypond · originally by ohandreagibson

buttonpoetry:

Javon Johnson - “cuz he’s black” (NPS 2013)

"Black boys in this country cannot afford to play cops and robbers if we’re always considered the latter. Don’t have the luxury of playing war if we’re already in one."

Performing for Da Poetry Lounge at the 2013 National Poetry Slam. DPL ended up placing 2nd in the tournament.

thestriversrow:

New poem from the #afterschool show. Joshua Bennett and Carvens Lissaint “How To Win A Fight”