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Tag Archives: life

The pursuit
is the truth
My passion has clouded my clarity
with boisterous,
bulging cloud formations
Beautiful, passing, plump
Everything up to this point
directed me to a warm moment of panic
a painful relief
I have not been touched
with such tender assurance
than when I was
disappointed
The sweet prize was
disguised as a goal –
something to aim for
when the Truth was having
a barrel to look through
down
into

Britta B.

Can’t swim
but love to study the waves

My favourite part of the day
is when it’s raining
Ah, blue o’clock
I take my time coming home

Trouble
you’re in trouble…

I sing to myself when I catch him
in my breath

His eyes:
two liquid capsules full of transparent blur
red-rimmed and open ocean blue
He
was barely there

When asked what’s up
his head hangs like a crooked frame on a wall
and the little yellow and red Lego pieces of me
instantly connect
to the ton of bricks on his shoulders
I know, I know
You shouldn’t play with road kill.
But it’s like holding a camera in your hands with no flash
and you must make light of the situation
I guess the best way to explain it
is that
wherever he is, I’ve been there

I get it

Despite surviving a semi-detached house full of split personality
part of me believes
I deserve to be forgotten, left alone unwanted
Sometimes I feel like a rescue dog, you know?
Scared
and hungry
for something other than what could be held in my mouth
or sometimes I feel like an ex-jock
who can’t help but be loud and drag around a stupid Letterman jacket
I might run ahead a few blocks
but I always look back
and it’s complicated to fall
for someone who doesn’t want to be who they are
It’s counterproductive to react (it doesn’t do any good to feel bad)
The hardest part of being there is knowing when to step back

I step back, out of the way

His eyes, two tidal waves
of Come At Me
or Get Out of My Face

I can tell he’s been chasing shadows and leaving dead people
all over town
Not that he’s in any danger per se
but he’s desperate to escape from living out the corner of his eye
so I make him a bed he can’t refuse
circle around it a few times
before laying down
and joining in

We reach for our slingshots and fold into each other’s laughter
pointing at those who scurry by with their newspapers and umbrellas
because we love the rain
we love the water and
would kill to have something we’re made of
destroy us
Using my arms for scaffolding, I build myself up into a seated position and…
He’s a copycat!
Mocks the way I study the waves
and I’m… flattered

Because it doesn’t matter
if you’re looking through trash or looking through
glass,
you always find what you’re looking for

Britta B.

Here’s a short documentary put together by some Humber College students (2013) Special Thanks to Julia Rogers.

Check out this interview with Britta B. and Ryan B. Patrick from Canada Arts Connect Magazine:
URBAN/Intersection: Spoken Word Poet Britta B.

With my impatience
I can build a Ruin in a day
and let it ruin my whole week

Britta B.

Ever since I was born I can remember
I both hated myself and wanted
to make people’s lives better.
I learned very slowly
that these two energies don’t
work together, they work against each other.

Sometimes, I still hate myself
but I know this is a passing feeling or thought
that I am stronger than. That I am loved despite this.

But what will always be a part of me is my
undying urge to make a difference.
                                              To change somebody.
                                              To inspire and encourage.

Britta B.

It’s not true, you’re just crazy
’bout

lips and tips,
                      garment rips
hot tea sips and flips a table
turn tables; Gladys Knight and the Pips
under a lunar eclipse
saw a rock climber with identity grips
paper clips
you, me and all these ex relationships
first class trips into
                         vanilla
                                 dips
Bloods & Crypts
Goons, tunes and hips
swinging half moons and heavenly
hash chocolate chips
rocky
mountains
and smooth sailing ships
you, me and all these Jump Rope for Heart beat skips…

You wanted a little more, didn’t you?

Britta B.

Ever had a thousand words to describe a picture
only you can see?
in a language only you can speak?

I think we all have our privileges
I think we all got our struggles
we just gotta find that speck of light sometimes, for me
it’s the moon 
it reminds me there’s a light at the end of the tunnel
it just means we’re all going through something

we are all going through it
respect the pace

It took my whole life to get here
and I still got a long way to go
places to see
people to meet
a better me to be
                                and

I give myself permission
to be whole
despite my holes, I am whole
despite my brokenness,
                                I am whole
I’ve fallen apart before, haven’t you?
when we fall apart, we fall together
“sometimes when we breakdown it is really a breakthrough”

Imagine a jar,
a beautiful Alabaster jar decorated with delightful designs and colours
the only way to know what’s inside is to break open this jar
Now, imagine yourself as this jar
decorated with delightful designs and colours

In life, sometimes we have to be broken to be opened
we have to be broken to be open
we can keep it all in
or we can choose to let it go
Give yourself permission to go somewhere unknown

we are neither created nor destroyed
but when we are broken, we transform

This feeling’s a little scary (okay, it’s really scary)
but haven’t you already survived a time you once believed
was the scariest part of your life?

maybe you have scars to show
but here you are today –
look how far you’ve come!
look how much you’ve grown
we are all going through something 

Trust your struggle and you will grow
you will grow

It won’t be easy, it will take a lot of work (and at times, you’ll feel alone)
trust your struggle anyway
it’s messy and
beautiful

Britta B.

What would you risk your life
to write?

would it be a name
a birthday, date, place
or time?

what about directions;
could you write a legend?

could you tell the truth?

what would you write?

who would you want to read it?
who would be in mind?

We artists
are closest
to the Gods

for we create
recreate
recreationally
and as a job

If I had to risk my life, I’d write:
I con art into love
I con art into love
I con art into love
I con art into love

ICONARTINTOLOVE

Britta B.

I feel like I’m waiting for a moment
a specific moment
a breakthrough
a gasping breath of fresh air and
I’m making my way around the city, determined
to gather the right
people, spirits, energies
at the right time
in the right place.

I’ve had moments resemble
this moment, but I know
I’m preparing for a bigger
moment – one that
lasts, one that stays
doesn’t leave me, no
matter how many times
I tell it to go
away.

I am a lighthouse moving like water beside fire
looking
for a moment to boom.

Britta B.