Poems
Here At Spoken Vision we take pride in our young poets amazing abilities. Take a listen and embark on a Journey in one of our many poems.
The Lost Traveller- By Ife Alabi
Where there is a price paid for the shade of her complexion.
Where the darker the complexion the less of the affection is shown.
Where her beauty has to meet our standards to be the standard in our eyes.
She wonders through the tracks of her identity wondering is this life meant for me or is there an impostor among us.
Belittled in every step forever remarked as a threat because of the power she retains.
Bougie or ratchet , her only two suits in this card game of life.
Will she have the heart to preserve or will she be left as the joker.
Her beauty questioned in every section.
That everyday it’s her hair too nappy or her knees to ashy or shiance I don’t like you and your group it’s too rachet.
Will she be bound by our words or limitation or take a step back and have a fresh breath of revitalisation.
She wonders will this life ever be fair to me ?
That the plates in her hair don’t correlate to the grades she can prepare.
That she’s tried that her expression and choice is often held by a voice which could not step two steps in her footprint.
That she can do more then be down on two knees to succeed.
Will she ever find her sanctuary of peace .
Behind the Scenes - Scott Damoo
Im tired …. and it’s crazy because me and tiredness are in what our society today would call a toxic relationship – uno we flirt every now and then we tease each other and ohhhh her flirting is good
I mean, she has this hold this very tight hold and I’m trying buckle away but she just won’t give way and for those of you that haven’t realised it yet she’s …………
wearing the trousers in this relationship, and it’s a constant battle
Because behind the scenes Tiredness has allies,
And you’d think there’d be improvement I’m talking gentrification but underneath those trousers she’s hitting me with a big D I’m talking ….Discrimination and how it is shown to each and every one of us no matter the font that selected in us when wanting to be better in society.
See I’m gonna set the scene,
Your on the sofa watching your life through a movies screen and it’s in 3rd person and your finally seeing how tired …..
How tired you are of being dimmed on when finally shone upon in the … LIGHTS
tired of being painted in this negative picture when finally put infront of the…. CAMERAS
And I’m so tired that, spoken vision is my way of …. ACTION
A movie set consists of Lights … cameras …. action
His plate is full, he’s doing everything that his mum told him to do,
Elbows off the table he’s mixing his rice with his veg, his 2 jobs and his tests and yes he’s stressed but it’s minORRR, I’m sure it’s minor
He strides into any room, his voice is deep his chest is high and he believes he is important because
“the price tag we put on ourselves is about identical to the one others place on us.”
So he has to be that guy – and there’s pressure on him, eyes, dragging him down expecting him to disappoint – but that’s the point he knows he cannot crumble and the moment he does he’s …..
CUT
At this moment, the television frame sets in im being punished, I’m talking about how Im back in the WOODWORKS
A rush of emotion, cutting off the circulation in this toxic relationship with tiredness and it’s to the point that I’m not even sure if my WOOD WORKS u see my hand starts shaking the my voice in my head start shrinking and once again I’m tired …
And if by means I will continue to succeed and not in silence,
And just like in my toxic relationship, i will hold my trousers tight , because the moment they slip past our hips you expect us to ….. ON-SITE,
But I’m not even about THAT LIFE
So don’t see me as inadequate to the human eye PLEASE
SPOKEN VISION
A diamond in the rough - By Nana Adade
Black women Under-Recognised yet overly fetishised
We love them for their bum and thighs but not the beauty that lie beyond their eyes
Became we live in a generation that only values black women by their ASSets and what they can provide
Instead of valuing the intelligence that resides in their mind because in truth we’re ignorant
The truth is behind every black girl or woman there’s a story
A history of under appreciation and objectification that has subjected them to questions and comments like :
Can I touch your hair
Or I can’t see you it’s really dark in here
But at really what dark is how society has managed to dampen their light
Teachers tell them they aren’t bright and friends making jokes about the melanin in their skin while pretending to be their kin
To the point were they are tried
Tried of coming home from primary school crying to their mothers about being picked on or not being picked at all , by friends , by boys and seemingly by life .
So this is my plea to society,, you’ve disenfranchised black women enough, for every soaked pillow and wet eye you should pay but revenge can’t be our way cause then they are aggressive and we wouldn’t want that would we
So what I ask is that we take time to educate ourselves on what it means to black and women in our current climate and empathise with the plethora of struggles they have faced instead of laughing to your mates about how her hair used to be straight and now it’s in braids and how it used to be in a bun till those beautiful butterflies Locs got done
So please be kind to our queens cause they truly are black, brilliant and beautiful.
My forbidden fruit - By Ife Alabi
My forbidden fruit
The darker the fruit the sinful the juice, can I really have a piece of you,you you and you .
How can I get you to trust me when my head turns every time I see a pair of nyash or cash maybe if I learnt to dibble or dabble in my emotions I would stop feeling like the lost traveller I am. Or maybe not
You see my antics as immature and childish i see my antics as an outcry of I didn’t plan this, manden see me gaining the world and view with enny I see it as losing my soul and the devil trynna temp me
You ask me questions like “ am I the only girl you speak to “ in which I stutter and tremble cah you can’t even imagine the lie I’m about to asumble , i sell you dreams or just straight up blame my ethnicity “ sorry darling I’m a nija man is just the way shit is meant to be or am I just letting my pain and insecurity strip me from my maturity and break your heart one too many times.
How can I get you to love me when I don’t truly know what love is, when my life’s been a constant dream to get you on my team to fuck it all up to act like we ain’t been talking to each other
Oh how I hate our toxic traits I’m an actor staring in my own movie and your the drugs I can’t escape. I speak to other girls and it makes you move crazy but you speak to other guys and it makes me more braazy
Actually makes move stupid like I want to go 2 pac a next man in a spilf but I anti no rapper.
And then you question my masculinity like you want me to go hit Um up promise I will slap a smith and Weston and rock any man jaw and have a crowd running Wilde like Oscar.
Oh how can I get you to feel me when I push and shove everything you come near me where I place my heart with you but my mind with another female my sense of safety is my biggest danger
My lust for my forbidden fruit
Diamonds- By Ife Alabi
Are we rolling
They say pressure makes diamonds right ?
Well someone bring a diamonds tester. I’m far from shining or fine enough to take out for winning and dinning.
But You see Pressure can mould , structure , shape or bake beautiful things but the wrong type of pressure and it’s a long day.
They say pressure is a sigh of hard work. So why do I feel like I work less .
I’m working two job so my mum can work less and in the process i stop revising so I guess I work less destroying my chances of getting a good job so I can work less.
My pressure is a result of high expectation , believes and aspirations.
my Mummy always taught me the world is my oyster Which in return has always made me move selfish.
Because I’m afraid Journey for success is tainted by my distress of losing out of the present to focus on my future like I’m not even pre sure , that this pressure is even good for me anymore , my head is shaking, my heart is racing , I can’t take it no more.
It’s taken a toll on my relationships
My hustle mentality to “make it out the hood” has made me neglect the people I wanna takeout.
My girl used to say I don’t talk no more , like her heart on delivered but I refuse to open , leaving her love unread.
Now it’s feel like only my spoken vision can show my emotive reality.
Because again I’m tired, bro I’m stressed I have got to make it
Because if u don’t generational wealth won’t be created
And if I wont do it for myself I’ll do it for my future children.
Because if I Dont how are they supposed to be better than me
And Nowadays it feels like my life is a constant cycle a showing flashing diamonds to show my hustle not knowing the relationship that had to firm the tussle
All the way from the “ nonchalant attitude” he must think he’s so cool” to living in the future because I can’t afford to live in the present can you ?
Leaving me to only hope my pressure makes a diamond.