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Tag Archives: spoken word

Virtually trapped on a
literal locomotive
I go places only with my body
while my mind sits, stuck working
overtime
filing memories from the wastebasket
into fresh refurbished cabinets

Oh this present
just isn’t as good as
what I can make the past become…

Britta B.

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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.


St. Lawrence Center for the Arts, January 26th, 2013

Special Thanks to: Paul Janicki, producer/editor

Britta B. performing “The Girl I Wanted To Be” for the 1st time at Trane Studio,
downtown Toronto on Sunday, October 16th, 2011

Hey World,

Here’s a short clip of me reading “Food for Thought” to a group of high school students at my last stop on tour in London, ON.

*Sidenote: I’m not actually reading from my book… there’s an iPhone4 in there with an App for my blog uploaded.

**Sidenote2: I swear I’m not being paid by Apple to say that -there are way too many people in this world who would laugh at me if I were.

Thanks for watching,

xo Brizza

Hey fam,

Here’s a clip of me sharing some poetry recently with ~300 grade nines in London, ON. I wrote this poem while I was on tour last year and I think it took me the whole year to write. I don’t really think it’s any of my best writing but it definitely broke the ice for more brilliant pieces to come.

Feel free to repost the link in your FaceBook, Twitter, et al. social networking webpages. And be on the lookout for more Britta B. videos in the future!

Thanks for watching,

xo Brizza