thought of sharing with you a poem i wrote for the teachers who taught me how to really READ
After the Conquest
If it’s true—
what they say,
—that we’re an empire of
linguists and critics,
today I must be postcolonial:
that is, drifting slowly on the
fringes of Lacanian
hegemony, the Clashing of Spirits
and Soyinka’s bashing
while Barthes’ shift from text to work
becomes my creed
as I pick up
what’s left of the preceding war
between posts- and -isms
they feed my being, nourish my identity,
fertilize the self until my veins
resemble Derrida’s deconstructed texts.
I am postcolonial:
That is, after the conquest of linguistics and
criticisms I search in obscurity
the body a naked being,
undressed by yesterday’s discourses
aroused by tomorrow’s pleasures.
as I look back on
yesterday’s subjectivity
with a little less objectivity
I am a babaylan singing of hymns
that when they came--after the conquest--
my world has changed since then
the cast of our play production for "Kapa" had its afterparty on the 21st of March-dinner at Triboo grill followed by booze at Mudbugs.
It seems, from the smiles of the folks on the pic, that there had been a divine intervention when a huge percentage of the cast didnt come, giving us, dressed up pigs, to pig out and forget yesterday's diet regimen. i guess the divinities have decided to interfere with April's--a lesbian bff--wardrobe. Here's here take on girlish dressing with a screaming floral printed belted dress.cheers.
and this is how you WERQ the microphone when you sing Earth Wind and Fire's September (my favorite videoke hit)
and THIS is how you WERQ those fatty deposits on your chin! werq it!
that's all.
it's graduation day and i decided to show through my ensemble what i was EXACTLY feeling that day-shiny, shimmery, splendid. lol.
