Lilo's in the house right now!!!

I'm back like cooked crack,
and that's some good crack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
yes my password finally worked!

Collecting for Fire Victims & Family

Good Morning, afternoon and evening to everyone who visits and reads this blog. Normally, we reserve this blog to the brain droppings of several student in the form of their written word, but today I needed to reach many people and spread the word about a devastating situation that has befallen some of our school family members.

By now, most of you have probably heard of the horrible fire that claimed the lives of many in the Bronx this past week. One of the victims, who is still in critical condition, was a student in Mr. Julien's class last year. Not only is he hanging on to his own life, but he has lost many family members due to the fire. We at the school are collecting food, clothing and hygiene products for him and his family. Non-perishable items please, and clothing of all sorts are graciously accepted. Their family has lost lives and their home, and will quite literally be starting over from scratch; so any and all help is immensely appreciated. Donations can be made to our school at 1000 Teller Ave, Bronx NY 10701, attention Ms. Abel or Ms. Hill. If you have anything you can spare, anything you've outgrown, or simply would like to give from your heart, please do. My personal contact info is onemorepoint@gmail (dot) com, if you can't get to the school but would still like to help.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Mr. Craig

A Message to my Poets

I can finally see that this poetry is far beyond just a thing
Through listening and watching over a 10 inch screen I am amazed
From 6 weeks of labor to simple free time
To beautiful lines or simple freestyles
To the little rhymes that makes me smile
Even though I would never remember the line that came before it
I would always get your craziest of rhymes stuck in my head from
"But everything has it own Jekel n Hyde but y does Hyde hide and Jekel remain free?
When we all know there are 3 in a trinity? Add a bit of me"
To
"My pen shoots through you"
our winnings draw our fame
We can only show them what SlamFam means
So I'm taking a step further and I am going to release....
An Album....which is why I haven't posted in 3 months....
But once its done, you'll realize why my e-mail is Hustle4moredough
I'll show it 2 u on April first
Prepare yourself becuase once its done
You'll hear every1 talk bout "SlamFam Presents: Mr. Prolific Poet vol.1"

Somewhere

Somewhere in Queens, There’s a toddler sittin’ in between two teens In the back seat of a rented Lamborghini, While his mom’s blastin’ music from “The Emancipation of Mimi” But the tot’s not in a baby seat cause his moms thinks he’s not so teeny, he don’t need it. But she’s doin’ 80 down a one-way street like she on a freeway. And on the end of that street’s a student talkin’ to his peers. With blasted music so loud, there’s nothin’ she could hear. But she sees the kid, quickly kicks the brakes and… Damn, that baby only lived for three years. While… Somewhere in Staten Island, There’s this stay-at-home-wife sighin’, Signin’ a restrainin’ order cause her husband’s on some domestic violence type shit. Shit, just a piece of paper? Should be jail time since He’s gonna end up knockin’ on her door sooner or later. “See ya later alligator!” is what she’s thinkin’ now, But “In a while crocodile!” is the thing that makes him smile. “Smile now, cry later!” so she holds herself to a smirk on the side of her cheek. Should be thinkin’ about the reality, But instead she sighs a sigh of relief. While… Somewhere Downtown, There’s this girl cryin’ on the ground, Cause the ground’s the only thing that can catch her when she’s feelin’ down. Down, under that phony smile that’s sloppily placed on her face, Lyes the lies that are fed by her very own disgrace. Amazing Grace doesn’t seem so graceful, When you’re facing a rough road ahead, And there’s no one to relate to. Too many hits to the head by her so called “Boyfriend”, Is why she lays on that cold concrete ground, dead. While… Somewhere in Brooklyn, There’s this crippled man shook cause, He don’t know what to do when there’s these little kids shootin’. Shootin’ hoops ain’t the only thing he wishes he could do. He’s doin’ nothin’, but buggin’ cause his cousin stole his shoes. Choosin’ flags over family? He gotta be mentally challenged, B. He obviously doesn’t understand the damage he Had to be Goin’ through that day. Now day after day, He’s testin’, searchin’ for the right knife to take his life away. While… Somewhere in The Bronx, There’s this boy gettin’ shot, And shots of heroine’s injected in an arm down the block. They’re overdosin’ themselves because that’s all that they got. They got no family that loves them because they busy smoking blunts. There’s bricks of marijuana somewhere, so they busy breakin’ locks. Locked up brains secluded, intruders like the meltin’ pot. Plottin’ their way for invasion. It crept through to you, That’s why that boy is getting’ shot. While… Somewhere in this house, There’s this poet spittin’ knowledge out his mouth, Cause his mouth comes second to his pen which let’s his knowledge out. Out there are the lies that try to infect ya mind. In here are the words that try to make them unjustified. Do ya mind? You shouldn’t, cause believe when I say this won’t waste ya time. And time is somethin’ that you can never get back, And that’s a fact. You could believe that, But don’t believe that “Wrong place at the wrong time” stuff, that’s bullshit! You’re where you’re supposed to be right now,And that’s somewhere important!

RAPED!

Stuck in sweet conversation
He was the ugliest of them all
but his words were sexy
Verbally attracted to him
he had more than love to offer
Such a beautiful intellectual
His chipped tooth
meant nothing
Mad as hell
cuz I almost look past this beautiful minded guy
But happy as heaven cuz he said hello
even after I gave him that
I’m just to pretty for your cooked kicks
I mean I’m to shallow to be with u
Sorry but u cant afford this chick
look
But his mind
was fine
And believe me he let me know that his time was valuable
sat me across from him on a park bench while he violated my mind in every way possible
But I wont press any charges because American bars cant hold his voice back
He pried memories from my head
Damn!
I gave him brain on our first
not quiet
a
first date
Screaming for help
I lost my voice doing that
what was I thinking?
this is new York city where no one has time
to save a damsel in distress any more
But hey
At least he didn’t murder me
but he sure as hell left a mental scar on my life.
He lowered me standards
my bad
he
deleted them
So now theirs is no man that’s not good enough for me
just a man that’s not eloquent enough for me.
I took three steps back when he to one step forward because his mind was to hot for me to Handel
I was stuck in a tight position because my vocabulary did not contain enough word to continue that conversation
But I loved that he intimidated because it has been so long since the last time
some one had the audacity
to put in my place
And I am so happy that I was given the chance to be a victim to his words
I mean
I guess
I was asking for it
just by wearing those high priced shoes
U know the shoes that say
I’m to stuck up to spear change for the needy
He just knew I needed a reality check
And as he checked me
I found myself checking out. his display
I felt like I was in an art gallery and I’m not talking about any normal art gallery I’m talking about that I don’t even know why u conceder that art
type gallery.
The words witch fell from his lips crepe up my spine
releasing my soul on this I don’t care how much your salary is
give me words and we can have kids
rampage
I mean this guy had me so messed up
that I would trade my hand held
just to hold hands with him.
It was love at first sentence
mind blowing
captivating
love
at first sentence
But I wasn’t quiet sure if I fell in love with him or his words.
But hey
if he said the right thing he could have
my heals over
my head
in a matter of seconds
So stuck on every faze
he slowly gave my hands a sudden crave
to touch his culturally diverse skin.
And after he took my 7 digits he
swiftly told me he would be calling from the nearest pay phone .
And when I left to meet the very same people that made me shallow
they could see that my skin had this
I just
Won the lotto
type glow
and I let them know
that as I lost myself in this angels chocolate blessed eyes
he mind raped me.

I just haven’t taking my last breath.

its not the best that I’ve written but it's true, and its the last thing that I will write at the age of 13. lol tell me what you think.
oh and before I forget Mr. Craig I let my tongue lose a little , just forgive me. okay?


Time has not allowed me to live
But in the time I have left I will take every breath I can because I have never known any feeling so satisfying
Family never came first because in their eyes I was always a secondary priority
But my friends
and I mean the people
who aren’t afraid to tell me when my hairs a hot mess
those real friend who don’t care how bad their words might hurt because they know I need to know
I’m talking about the people who allowed me to know the truth.
My friends .
always put me second
But that never bothered me because I understood family came
first.
So happy that they had their life where mine couldn’t be because although mommy said I was greedy there’s nothing I wouldn’t want my friend to have
But as soon as I saw past the fog of reality the prize was already on its way to that place where dreams that weren’t quiet dreamt went when they left my head
But its okay because if I was really meant to keep this happiness then it will come back to me.
According to “ the secrete”
If I visualize it , its as good as mine.
So after my 9 to 5
Ill go see Kevin revise his Oscar for best roll in a comedy
And ill be bobbing my head to Rainey’s latest CD while Mr. rampersaud will be mixed in the same damn play list. Rooting for rikay at his base ball game, and Denisse will have a seat saved for me when her feet blesses Broadway’s stage
Taylor will live next door to may Angelo
While viola busting Miguel out of jail for having M.T.V burnt to the ground guess they couldn’t Handel the fire.
And you know what I just might have kids so they can attend the new board of ed that Mr. Craig him self created single handedly but not alone in hope.
Damn its funny how I just painted a beautiful master piece with no canvas
but people don’t pay for what they cant see at least that’s what mommy told me.
But wait
I’ve placed her aside with perfection
and you know what I think I might just end up where my heart wants me to be ,
BUT!
my bad
my ass isn’t included in this one.
Yeah there aren’t anymore cracks in my dreams
Because my goal is sealed in the best Tupperware sold on shelves
So no matter how many times it falls out of my site none of what I’ve worked so hard for will have been wasted on the people who wanted to keep me ignorant.
Let me just say god gave me these eyes not to be blinded by your bull shit of what will be my life.
But to see what my life could be.
So yes I don’t have much time left to attend the same class as my extended family
But phones were always my best accessory and I have not Inhaled my last breath of this thing that I found in the south Bronx on school grounds
Yeah
I just haven’t taking my last breath.

Superstars!

13?/life

When I meet him he was a virgin To my words But at the end of my appearance Virginity was no longer in his vocabulary 13 ? he asked how is it that I had seen Murder How could it be that God let such sin blind me But I’m not blind For I can see every thing these eyes were created to bear witness And sure many times I ask why me? But I can only look down at my feet in sorrow for so long before my neck starts to cramp up So no matter what image is branded in my mind it will only be a memory And A memory lives Off time And time is what I can not waist nor change So I must deal and move on And sure it sounds like a card game but what more is life Than a game that I must play. Wining is my only goal For I can’t rest in peace unless I have taken this victory 13 ? he asked with the look of surreal on his face because The scares on my skin are a disgrace because it was placed their by me But what he does not see is that scars represent what was and this is what Is now and what is now is me with no blade in hand because I have a man that will listen to my cry and even Dry my tears So I declare that today the blade is my worst enemy And no I will not keep my enemies closer than my friends. So as he sat across from me with his face twisted tight because he could not fathom that fact that I was only 13 and that my mind as reached this level of awareness to all That was wrong with life from domestic violence to war from pollution To abuse from suicide to teen pregnancy I have seen all This simply to see more I have been tasted in all the wrong ways and I hate this time of the year because on the 17 I will be forced to relive that day In a way stronger than any other day would have had an impact on my Memory but memories lives off time and time is what I can not waist nor change so hopefully scale will be held on that day So I could lose my self in thing my mother clams to have lost her first child to Poetry. 13? he asked how I mange to stay sane if my life seems to be based around pure insanity I simply reply 13 is a number and my words are life 13 will change but life is the same u live u die what is done in between that time determines if you win this game or lose and sure mistakes will be made but realizing and correcting your faults is how you win so yes I’m only 13 but that will change Life will always be the same. (so what do u think?)

One more thing...

I didn't want to hijack my own post, so Congratulations to Kevin, Rainey, Jesica, Angela and Justine who wer all either performing or in attendance to receive awards at the DreamYard Poetry and Spoken Word Festival at Scholastic. Awesome.

And to Denisse, Miguel, Kevin, Rainey and Jesica for competing in, and owning the crowds at the Urban Word preliminaries and semi-finals. 13, and 14 years old. Damn.

We'll be a busload of support and sore throats on February 24th for Jesica as she attempts to make the New York City team to compete in San Jose, Calif this summer. Two years competing, two youngins in the Urban Word Finals...(I'm pleased as a peacock!)

Oh, Kevin, you own any room you walk into..., you put the energizer bunny to shame.

Some will get it right away, others will get it later. Some will never know.

First things first, I should be asleep, but I'm not...and so that means I'm being subjected to the rambling thoughts of a Tourettic/Attention Deficitic mind. I know those aren't words...but they make sense nonetheless. So in these ramblings a few things became clearer. One, I completely, totally, wholeheartedly, sincerely enjoy watching you do what you do. Whether it's just the daily growing pains of too much homework, boy meets girl, girl meets boy, parents on your nerves, on your parents nerves, or using those same pains to express yourself in a way that only you can. I love it. I've preached it and preached it, and repeated and repeated, but of course actions (and sometimes inactions...) enunciate more clearly than words, so I want you all to know that even though I'm enamored by your ability to keep winning these contests, and although I'm proud as a new papa every time you bring home the trophy, it's never really meant that much in the "grand scheme" of things; at least not after the first one anyway. Yes, you are now the four time champions, and saying it out loud, and typing it on this screen is a thoroughly enjoyable experience, yet it's not the trophies, plaques or accolades that I find the most rewarding. It's really quite simply, you. Toro’s comment on my last post read,

“Congrats,
I never coached you guys when I was with DreamYard, but I have always dug the work you all and Mr. Craig do. Keep up the good work. Remember to write is to call new worlds into existence. Your words go deep than a slam score; you change the world every time you put pad to pen and open your mouths.

Peace and Metaphors,
Toro"

I've never been able to put things the way he can, but I believe we read somewhere, and used to repeat, “The points are not the point. The Point is Poetry…” and I believe we need to get our minds wrapped around these ways again, allow ourselves to have fun, and leave our mark on the world.

And then, in saying all of this, there is of course something else...

I've never been ashamed of who I am. Not while growing up in the predominately “snowy” city in which I was raised when a fellow student wanted to “pet” my hair, not when I was diagnosed with my multiple disorder, not even when my own father told me I was just a “touch of crazy.” No, I’ve been this person, and will continue to be this person for a reason. Yet it took recent events to help me see things a little more clearly. I wonder if it’s possible to ever care too much, to “over-love” someone, or something. To want to be able to fix all that is wrong, and hold tight to all that is right? At 32, I’m not sure I can yet answer these questions, but I will tell you this…I won’t back down from who I am or what I believe I mean to all of you; not now; not ever. I believe that it’s an awesome feat when you find something that not only nourishes your mind, and soul, but also your spirit. I believe that with all of your help, I have found that very thing, and I believe you’ve found it too. I’ve told you time and time again, to never be ashamed of your energy, of your talent, of your desires to be better than average. Don’t allow yourself to be knocked aside or knocked down by those who will mock, belittle or misunderstand you. Don't be pulled down by the very people who should be lifting you up. Don’t allow the failure of others in their own lives to become the failures you dwell on in yours. It’s not easy being strong, or true to yourself, especially as an adolescent, but if you maintain, I guarantee you’ll be rewarded for your courage, stamina and determination.

I feel like I need to say more, but my eyes are closing, and I woke up once with the number pad mashed into my face. Night all. Tommorrow's another chance to get it right.

So my mother said

The word that come from your mouth don’t mean a thing your self fish and your heart is to cold and deprived of kindness to feel half of these things u pretend to know when you speak Oh and this poetry thing is nothing but a set up for disappointment because it could never amount to anything And u really don’t have to wait for this dream to die because it resembles a stillborn child . And she said all this when she told me It was just a dream And that’s all it could ever be.

And the Tide of Awesome Keeps flowing....

So, after a ridiculous display of teamwork, togetherness and sheer talent, the second phase of the SlamFam, also known as 2.0, has won their first 7/8 Division Bronx WRITeS Poetry Slam. Excited though they were, it wasn't without the support of all you local poets, old classmates, and friends from other grades that came out to support them that they were able to pull off the ridiculous. We now stand as the 3 time back to back to back and 4 time total 7/8 division champions. Pride people, 145 pride!

Then I check my email while I sit awaiting my ride, and what do I spy...

Dear Mr. Moss,

First and foremost, congratulations to you and your students for being awarded the Gold Key award by Scholastic and the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers for the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards in Poetry.

Please let each of the following students, their parents and teachers know of their accomplishments:

Jesica Blandon, Arturo Toscanini - Gold Key in Poetry
Justine Brown, Arturo Toscanini - Gold Key in Poetry
Angela Deoki, Arturo Toscanini - Gold Key in Poetry

We would also like to invite you, Jesica, Justine and Angela to the Scholastic Festival on Friday, February 9th. Please join us for dinner and the Poetry and Spoken Word Festival at the Scholastic Theater. Dinner is at 5:15 pm and the Festival is from 7:00 - 8:15 p.m....


It's getting harder and harder to not come off sounding cocky, but I've got to applaud and congradulate you all for your tireless efforts in and out of the classroom, and for your awesome support of each other.

Keep on keepin' on!

Finals Baby!!!

Yeah we did it again, finals are tomorrow at 11. Wish us luck.

The True Me

Why can't these dry eyes cry?
Whenever I feel pain, hurt whatever deep inside
Why do I hide true emotions?
Why is it so complicated?
My fixated mind has created a perspective of a utopia
My naive mind has hidden reality from these unsalted eyes
Because whenever I face such Bull***** of today's world
I know it won't affect me in the long run
So I hide it
Why can't I exude the same feelings I used to 5 years ago?
Eluding the premise of my soul, I know I can not cry because f***ed up S*** always gets solved
But if you can't solve them it becomes a problem
So why is it that I have locked up secrets and problems no one has heard yet?
Their tainted hearts has not tasted what I have heard and seen
But I believe that one day some one would hear out my mischievous deeds
No one has called me misunderstood but I believe that I am
So don't try to run my life like it's yours!!
because I'm feeling like I can not run away any more
Like I am now trapped in with my secret and problems
But I can not cry
I am not saying that crying would solve anything but at least pour out this containment that has been inside of me for so long
I can not prolong this S*** any more because it will end up controlling me, changing me, so why can't I cry?
I don't know the answer to that, but I do know that emotions are what I can't show and for that I have been secluded
Polluted by the minds of people talk, people thoughts
So I adapt to them, begin to talk like them, act like them
Becuase no one wants to see the old me
The true me any more
But he is still inside of me
Ready to break free, and then maybe I could feel that pain
But that is not likely to happen
Shy, nervous, hurt, quiet, scared, weak, small are all the thing that doesn't describe me any more
I guess it is a result in trying to "man-up"
So I can stand up for myself
But now I just don't give a f****
This society could hate me for all I care
I've changed, people notice since 7th grade
I made life enjoyable, now I just want the truth
Why can't I cry?
Maybe my new cold heart has replaced the fragile, weak, sensitive heart I had
So no remorse run through these viens
Why can't I cry?
Maybe from hiding my pain
I have become so nonchalent and serious making this f***ed up world nothing to me
My peoples had no clue what had gotten into to me
But it got me more people so I ain't afraid to be that proud Guyanese, with my my head up, socializing, serious, nonchalent and all of these things
But my family still wants the True Me
Back to the naive boy who played til his heart content
Cried his eyes out whenever small s*** happens
I don't remeber the last time I cried
That's such a shame to me
Because hopefully I'll cry before I die so you can see the True Me