This week, the Exploring Creativity in the Arts class had guest speaker, Renee Baker come in to share her story as a renowned composer creating a platform for women and people of color in the world of fine arts.
My poem is not quite a poem, it is more like a vision of my daydream.
My engine awakens. It’s just before dawn. The streets are still asleep. I’m a small SUV gliding down the road. Now, just hours later , the summer air holds a slight breeze. The year is 1993. I’m wearing bright blue pajama shorts with an all white tank top.I would stay in my pjs all day if I could. I stand in the kitchen, my favorite spot in the house. I look out the small window onto the yard of gorgeous flowers. Even though it’s summer I imagine myself in the Artic Ocean. Secluded. Cold. The thought makes me bundle up in my bed. I sit and imagine the day all over again.
The voice spoke on very deep subjects. Poetry filled with hatred and confusion. Speaking of neglect and denial from a mother. Growing up hating your mother, your creator, because of the way you were brought up. The performance started with the poet playing his guitar. Drawing the audience into a piece that I personally really wasn’t expecting. A person feeling suicidal because the lack of love received from their parent.
There was more than one poem, but they mostly consisted of the same subject. Blaming the world for how life works. Despising your mother for bringing you into the world. The readers emotions were at rage. The poem emphasized the emotion. Everyone has disagreements with their parents once in a while, but personally I could not relate. I love my mother through the good and the bad. Respect should always be a part of a relationship.