Tag: Slam poetry

Read Slam Poetry written by slam poets, cowboy poets, and literary giants inspired by the state of Arizona!

Fine White Powder by Naughty A. Mouse

April 7, 2025

“Fine White Powder” by Naughty A. Mouse

sugar is a fine white powder let me say
that a little louder sugar is a fine
white powder let me say that a little
louder sugar is a fine white powder and
just like crack and smack it’s all
wrapped up in money and power see Coke
comes from leaves and opium from flowers
but the granddaddy of the fine white
powders is made from beets and Cane
people hear the word drugs they usually
think of gangs they think of
cold-blooded Killers with Latin last
names selling PCP LSD and Mary Jane are
moving Mac ecstasy and crack cocaine
people hear the word drugs they think
shackles jails and chains they think
suffering and pain they think Blood
Money backstabbing and innocent slain
but there is no such stigma attached to
sugar cane yeah there ain’t no shame
affix to the sticks of even little kids
get lit they sit and take hits
off of their pixie sticks getting ripped
and no one sees a problem with this
because this is a fix that we all crave
and we are not ashamed although we know
it was built on the backs of black
slaves so I tell y’all sugar is a fine
white powder and I want it to ring in
your brains a little bit louder because
its story is the same as what’s shot in
the veins a shot up the nose to get
straight at the brain I’m talking Blood
Money backstabbing innocent slain I’m
talking suffering and pain shackles
jails and chains headlessness remembered
remains Little Women and Children
backing up the product and Counting out
the change and The Killers deranged who
ran the whole game and who teach kids to
kill for material gain the saddest thing
about it is all of these facts are
already in your brain they’ve just been
sanitized like blood stains washed down
shower drains so only the cold and
boring facts remain
you all sat in little rows frustrated
but so well trained and normalized this
[ __ ] with the phrase triangle trade
sugar for rum for slaves Europeans ruled
the waves and got money in power off a
little grains of white powder so I’m
asking y’all help me make this louder
sugar is a fine white powder come on
y’all louder sugar is a fine white
powder come on y’all louder sugar is the
fine white powder come on y’all louder
the foundation of our nation the
independence Declaration was sung by
kingpins who ran drug plantations so
fast forward just a few generations to
the days when radio stations still sing
the Praises of criminal organizations
but the biggest drug dealers are legally
chartered corporations and on both sides
of the law it’s all about location
location
it doesn’t matter if the battles are
fought in courts over end caps instead
of blocks or if the people that pack the
gats are called cops it’s still cash
crops to define the line between the
hives and the have-nots and I think
we’re all just too high on sugar to call
them crimes when they’re committed by
the Criminal Minds on top so I came out
to tell y’all that sugar is a fine white
powder and I’m asking you spread the
word because knowledge is power

Transcribed from the video Fine White Powder by Ghost Poetry Show and Naughty A Mouse.

Watch the Video “Fine White Powder” by Naughty A Mouse on YouTube

About the poet Naughty A Mouse

Naughty A Mouse’s powerful spoken word poem “Fine White Powder” is a lyrical indictment of sugar—yes, sugar—as a historically overlooked but deeply entwined player in the legacy of colonialism, slavery, capitalism, and addiction. Delivered with rhythmic urgency and a call-and-response refrain—“sugar is a fine white powder”—this poem blurs the lines between drug culture, economic power structures, and normalized consumption, ultimately inviting readers to reconsider the social and historical contexts of everyday commodities.

Summary

At its surface, “Fine White Powder” compares sugar to illegal drugs like crack, smack (heroin), cocaine, and ecstasy. But this isn’t just a metaphor for sweetness and dependency—the poem traces sugar’s origins as a commodity rooted in slavery, colonialism, and racial exploitation.

Naughty A Mouse challenges the audience to recognize how sugar—like narcotics—is a fine white substance entangled in systems of money and power. He critiques how society vilifies some drugs while ignoring others that share similar histories of violence and control, especially when profit motives sanitize or legitimize their use.

Children “take hits / off of their pixie sticks” and society sees no problem, but the poet points out the dark legacy behind the treat: “built on the backs of black slaves.” The speaker makes a strong case for sugar as the original addictive substance of empire, tied directly to the transatlantic slave trade—”sugar for rum for slaves.” He links this to modern corporate and legal institutions that profit from “drug-like” products, drawing attention to the hypocrisy of how some harmful industries are socially accepted or legally protected.

Analysis

“Fine White Powder” is more than a history lesson—it’s an urgent political poem, calling for deeper awareness of systemic injustice. Naughty A Mouse’s use of repetition (“sugar is a fine white powder”) becomes a chant, a rallying cry, and an indictment. The rhythm mirrors spoken word and hip-hop influences, pushing the message past poetic beauty into the realm of protest art.

The poet subverts the idea of what a “drug” is, taking it out of alleyways and placing it on the kitchen table, in the classroom, and on supermarket shelves. He draws attention to the way society separates “legal” and “illegal” substances not by harm but by who profits from them. The “location, location” line points to how geography, race, and class determine what is considered criminal versus what is considered commerce.

Lines like “the foundation of our nation… was sung by kingpins who ran drug plantations” push the reader to reevaluate sanitized historical narratives, including the American Revolution, and recognize their economic foundations in slavery and drug-like agriculture. This is a poem of unmasking and recontextualization—pushing listeners to see the institutional legacy of sugar and question what they’ve been taught.

Call to Action

By the end, the poet isn’t just making a point—he’s building a movement. He directly addresses the audience, asking them to join in spreading awareness:

“I came out to tell y’all that sugar is a fine white powder / and I’m asking you spread the word because knowledge is power.”

In doing so, Naughty A Mouse merges art and activism, using poetic storytelling to unveil how oppression hides in plain sight—in something as seemingly innocent as a spoonful of sugar.

➡️ Learn more about Naughty A Mouse and explore his poet bio page on AZPoetry.com

56 by Robert FlipSide Daniels

March 28, 2025

“56” by Robert FlipSide Daniels

there is a fine line between
heroism
and martyrdom and on march 3rd 1991
i watched a man nearly cross it swing
56 blows led to this king’s ransom swing
56 blows set off a chain of events some
still have yet to recover from
swing swing rodney’s life and
construction helps us understand why
building bridges of compassion was more
important
than his destructive past swing swing
swing taser this is 56 times i watched
in horror
not believing what was clear as glass in
front of my
barely 18 year old eyes swing
my mind muddied by my belief that this
is unbelievable
is this a nightmare wake up this is
happening
swing swing he was a big man he must
have deserved it
swing swing swing kick driving way too
fast for much too long swing really
rodney
100 miles per hour in a hyundai
swing he had two passengers and too much
to drink
swing swing allegedly two drugs course
through his veins
swing swing swing perhaps he was too
black
or too big in black to deserve dignity
swing
too slow to pull over too intoxicated to
realize he was being
beaten swing swing i can only imagine
what george holliday was thinking as he
recorded this historic moment
swing swing swing kick a moment that
changed my trust in who
upholds the law swing cube spoke to it
in his
fictionalized art gangsters can’t be
trusted so why should i believe these
[ _ ] with attitude swing swing
it’s hard to know what was said
but i would imagine a taser speaks volumes
swing swing swing five batons
constantly attracted to one fallen body
swing the racial slurs begin
led ironically by a man named [ _ ]
swing swing more firepower than an old
western saloon
swing swing swing kick so i guess we
should be happy they didn’t just shoot
him
swing though they did break his skull
and leg to show they mean business
swing swing truth is he was a criminal
on probation for armed robbery swing
swing swing
but did he deserve to have his criminal
mind concussed
in a savage beating swing by police
later acquitted of charges
swing swing judge declared the blow that
broke king’s leg
was not excessive swing swing
wait what hey [ __ ] stop moving
swing kick tasers they told him
not to move while hitting him repeatedly
swing
maybe he thought the police were trying
to kill him
swing swing but i’m sure action spoke
louder that night
swing hard to imagine it takes 56 baton
blows
six kicks and two tasers to subdue one
man
swing 30 years later
i’m still not over it swing
30 years later one question still
resonates
kick can’t we all just get along
you

Transcribed from the video “56” by Robert Flipside Daniels

Watch “56” by Robert FlipSide Daniels on YouTube

About the poet Robert FlipSide Daniels

In “56”, Robert FlipSide Daniels delivers a haunting and powerful reflection on the brutal beating of Rodney King at the hands of the LAPD on March 3, 1991. The poem’s title refers to the 56 baton blows that rained down on King’s body—a harrowing number that sets the tone for this piece, which is both an indictment of police brutality and a meditation on justice, race, and American history.

The repetitive “swing” motif acts as a relentless drumbeat, mirroring the vicious attack itself. Each “swing” serves as a visceral reminder of every hit, every act of dehumanization, and every moment of disbelief the poet felt as he witnessed this atrocity unfold at just 18 years old. The poem shifts between historical facts, societal commentary, and personal reflection, questioning not only the actions of law enforcement but also the system that allowed them to walk free.

FlipSide does not ignore King’s past—his criminal record, his intoxication, his reckless speeding—but he forces the reader to ask: Did any of that justify what happened to him? He juxtaposes Rodney King’s flaws with the sheer excessive force and racial injustice he suffered, highlighting how Blackness itself often becomes a justification for violence in America.

The poem also critiques the media’s portrayal and public reaction to the event. References to Ice Cube and N.W.A. emphasize the deep distrust in law enforcement that existed long before King’s beating, while the line about George Holliday, the man who recorded the attack, underscores the power of video evidence in exposing systemic abuse. And yet—even with undeniable footage—the officers were acquitted, leading to the 1992 Los Angeles Riots.

The final 30 years later refrain reminds us that the pain, trauma, and unanswered questions still linger. The poem ends with King’s own plea for unity—“Can’t we all just get along?”—a heartbreaking echo of a man who, despite being brutally beaten, still sought peace.

FlipSide’s “56” is not just a poem—it is a call to remember, to question, and to demand accountability. It serves as a chilling reminder that justice, even when caught on camera, is far from guaranteed.

To learn more about FlipSide’s poetry and powerful storytelling, visit his poet bio page here.

You Are Not What They Speak Of You poetry by Jason Lalli artwork

You Are Not What They Speak Of You by Jason Lalli

March 27, 2025

“You Are Not What They Speak Of You” by Jason Lalli

because you are not what they speak of you
like a tornado destroys a village
is how quickly it destroyed his spirit
Deja Vu with new faces
Asian by Heritage but a Collegiate
student in America with the thickness of
a twig his tall slender meat and Bone
cycle frame never seemed to get a warm
reception

his genius felt socially awkward
a confident computer nerd by stereotype
shy wants to keep to himself type of
demeanor don’t let this magician’s
illusion fool you
he wants to reach out
his giant heart yearns for connection
but social settings breathe life into
bullying nightmares as beautiful women
snap pictures to laugh about with their
friends while peers in groups distaste
we strip him of his dignity with insults
to his face it’s the pain of rejection
has become the erosion of
self-confidence

how can mental strength survive
if it’s the target always being shot as
not like a private affair
but the embarrassment of public
humiliation
insult bombs leave shots and negativity
in the walls of his mind and his soul
his heart transform the black empty
life loses luster after a person is
conditioned in such a man
when degrading persecution becomes
regular routine the Silver Lining is
lost for light when the eyes always see
Darkness no chance to hear truth when hateful
poison is all that is fat to be heard so
how can he feel alive if he’s imprisoned
by fear

like the scared pit bull confined by its
Leisure are we surprised to see snapping
teeth in defense yet we wonder why
suicide rates on a rapid incline why the
outcast lashes out violently towards
their fellow students as media rating
Skyrocket with no regard

I was Witness
as I watched his parents lifetime
Harvest demolished with one action
afraid of Confrontation there was no
acknowledgment as he stared at the floor
I can’t imagine his life being filled
with beautiful Scenic views of his gaze
is always fixed downwards
as a bystander we have a choice
to look away as he did afraid of
Confrontation or to become a participant
I chose to make a difference
my actions spoke with words of
encouragement as if to say
my friend
please take a moment to remove yourself
from this angst fill the breath of
oxygen invigorate life into your veins
hear how beautiful your mind and soul is
and always will be
see the light outlining beyond their
cloud of hatred

understand they’re unhappy with
themselves they laugh at you because
they want you to join them in their
misery you are not what they speak of
you you are the lights they wish to be
you are purity don’t let them taint your good nature

be strong
know that type of strength lies deep
within your core it’s there you have it
harness it’s power
there are wind blowing against your
unfazed Steel

you are not rock the world with time you
were ever evolving maturing beyond the
petty use this moment don’t let it use
you
lead is the opposite to the extreme and
treat everyone you meet with kindness
because know that once upon a time in a
different scenario and place
I
I was you
and I pray that today my actions prove
that you
can be me

Transcribed from the video “You Are Not What They Speak of You” by Jason Lalli and VulnerablyLalli.

Watch “You Are Not What They Speak Of You” by Jason Lalli on YouTube

About the poet Jason Lalli

Summary and Analysis of “You Are Not What They Speak Of You” by Jason Lalli

Jason Lalli’s poem “You Are Not What They Speak Of You” is a profound meditation on bullying, resilience, and self-worth. It tells the story of an Asian student studying in America, facing relentless social rejection and public humiliation. The poem paints a harrowing picture of how bullying erodes self-confidence, trapping its victims in a prison of fear and isolation.

The poem’s strength lies in its deep empathy. Lalli explores the emotional and psychological toll of bullying, likening it to a tornado that destroys a spirit in an instant. The student is portrayed as a misunderstood genius, a shy but big-hearted individual, yearning for connection yet repeatedly cast aside. The cruelty of his peers manifests in mockery, social exclusion, and outright insults, all of which build up, conditioning him to see the world through a lens of darkness.

Lalli masterfully shifts the poem’s tone from despair to empowerment. The speaker, who once endured similar torment, chooses to break the cycle—to uplift rather than ignore, to encourage rather than degrade. He urges the bullied student to see beyond the hatred, recognizing that cruelty often stems from the aggressors’ own pain and insecurity. The poem becomes a call to resilience, reminding the reader that self-worth is not defined by others’ opinions.

The final stanza is particularly powerful and transformative. The speaker declares that he was once in the victim’s position but has since risen above, proving that one can overcome and even surpass the pain inflicted by others. The poem becomes a beacon of hope, offering a message that is both timeless and universal: we are not what others say we are—we define ourselves.

To learn more about Jason Lalli’s poetry, spoken word performances, and advocacy for self-empowerment, visit his poet bio page here.

Ritchie Valens poem by Myrlin Hepworth AZpoetry.com

Ritchie Valens by Myrlin Hepworth

March 26, 2025

“Ritchie Valens” by Myrlin Hepworth

you were the child of R&B and jump Blues
flamingo guitar and Mariachi
Richard Valenzuela
they called you Ritchie said
Valenzuela was too much for a Gringo’s tongue
said it would taste bad in their mouths
if they said it so they cut your name
in half to Valens and you swallowed
that taste down stood tall like a bacho
and sign that contract
Rich was always about music
you felt it tumble inside your chest as a boy
playing a guitar with only two strings
and when your neighbor caught you
you thought he’d be angry over your racket
instead he helped you repair the
instrument and taught you how to grip it
correctly and you left-handed boy
playing a right-handed guitar repay him
by making the notes fly you could play
and sing at 17 you was signed at Del five
records of America, wanted to pass you
off as Italian, but you did not have old
blue eyes, no yours were young and brown,
brown like the dirt in the San Fernando
Valley, brown like the hands of your tias
who worked in the fields for
pennies, died inside Cantinas with broken
hearts, California’s hands were filled
with hate back then leading white and
brown master and slave and there you
were, in the midst of it all, young chicano
kid from the barrio, an American band stand
shredding guitar strings while Dick
Clark watched, I swear Ritchie, when I
listen I can hear it all
I can hear the screams from the zoot suit
riots, I can hear the young gringo
hipsters swarming you after a concert,
how you made them laugh and dance in
their ballrooms, the children sitting on
the bleachers of your middle school.
swaying to your rhythm and blues, the old
men in your neighborhoods watching you
play ranas when they shout it out
much how you made them all smile
Ritchie in a nation at war with it self, ashamed of
the blood on his hands, you were never
ashamed of who you were, took an old folk
song from B Cruz, la bamba swung that afro
Mexican rhythm into rock and roll
and sang all Spanish lyrics at a time when
speaking Spanish came with a wooden
paddle punishment, you played live at the
Apollo with Chuck Berry and rocked,
you were a legend and Rich before
that night before you boarded that plane,
before you tumbled from the sky like it
caled me in before your 19th birthday
your body frozen near that Lake in
Wisconsin the phrase what if still sits
on our tongues and America is still
trying to shape you into Hollywood still
trying to bleach the memory of your skin
wrote a movie and said you never spoke
Spanish when you understood each cadino
your mother placed in your ears as a
child chocked her death up to
Superstition and Mexican hoopla there
are myths scattered in your legacy but I
know Ritchie we know it was always about
your music and that cannot be disfigured
it plays forever in our hearts it is
trapped inside Carlos Santana’s fingertips
it drifts through alleys and walkways
plays on television during commercials
rides up elevators drifts into backyards
where there is some boy brown and dusty
desperately trying to play a guitar with
only two strings

Watch Myrlin Hepworth perform Ritchie Valens on YouTube

About the poet Myrlin Hepwroth

Myrlin Hepworth’s poem “Ritchie Valens” is a moving tribute to the young Chicano rock and roll legend Ritchie Valens—born Richard Valenzuela—who revolutionized American music before his tragic death at just 17 years old. The poem vividly recounts Valens’ meteoric rise, from his humble beginnings in the San Fernando Valley to becoming a star, all while battling the racial prejudice and cultural erasure that sought to strip him of his Mexican identity.

Hepworth crafts an evocative narrative, painting Valens as more than just a musician but as a symbol of resilience and cultural pride. The poem highlights the systemic pressures that forced Valens to change his name, downplaying his heritage to fit a white-dominated industry. However, despite the attempts to whitewash his identity, Valens’ Chicano roots remained embedded in his music, most notably in La Bamba, a Spanish-language hit that defied the mainstream aversion to bilingualism at the time.

Hepworth’s lyrical and rhythmic style mirrors the energy of Valens’ music, blending historical context with an almost spoken-word urgency. The poem seamlessly weaves together Valens’ personal story with broader themes of racial tension, cultural assimilation, and artistic defiance. It acknowledges the ways America has attempted to reshape Valens’ legacy while emphasizing the power of his music, which continues to inspire generations.

The final lines leave us with a powerful image: a young, brown-skinned boy struggling with a two-string guitar, much like Valens once did. It is a reminder that Ritchie’s influence is eternal, resonating in the lives of future musicians and dreamers.

To learn more about Myrlin Hepworth’s poetry and his contributions to spoken word and Chicano storytelling, visit his poet bio page here.

Chris Lane NORAZpoets Sedona poetry AZpoetry.com

Christopher Lane

March 7, 2025

Christopher Lane: The Poetic Voice of Struggle, Advocacy, and Healing

Christopher Lane was more than a poet—he was a fearless advocate for truth, a champion for the power of poetry, and a voice for those struggling with addiction and loss. Though his life ended far too soon in August 2012, his words and work continue to inspire, comfort, and challenge those who encounter them.

As the founder and director of the Arizona chapter of the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project (APP) and a widely recognized poet and community leader, Lane dedicated his life and work to poetry as a tool for healing, connection, and self-exploration. His poetry captured the harsh realities of addiction, the depths of personal struggle, and the resilience of the human spirit, leaving behind a legacy that remains deeply relevant today.

A Poet of Raw Honesty and Unwavering Courage

Christopher Lane’s poetry was bold, unfiltered, and deeply personal. His work was heavily influenced by his own battles with addiction, mental health struggles, and self-reflection, which became central themes in his writing. His acclaimed poetry collection, who is your god now?, published by Woodley & Watts, serves as a powerful testament to his ability to capture pain, hope, and the complexities of human existence in breathtaking verse.

Through his writing, Lane fearlessly explored the emotional weight of addiction and recovery, creating poems that speak to those who feel unheard or unseen. His words resonated with anyone struggling to find meaning, battling inner demons, or searching for redemption, making him one of Arizona’s most powerful contemporary poetic voices.

Championing Poetry as a Tool for Healing

Beyond his literary achievements, Christopher Lane was a tireless advocate for poetry as a means of healing and human connection. He was deeply involved in Arizona’s poetry scene, performing at some of the state’s most prestigious literary events, including:

Desert Nights, Rising Stars Writers Conference at Arizona State University
Tucson Poetry Festival

But his most profound impact extended beyond the traditional poetry stage. Lane was a key figure in bringing poetry to underserved communities, especially elders living with dementia.

The Alzheimer’s Poetry Project: Christopher Lane’s Lasting Legacy

One of Lane’s most remarkable contributions was his pioneering work in using poetry to connect with individuals living with Alzheimer’s disease and dementia. As the founder and director of the Arizona chapter of the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project (APP), he played a crucial role in expanding the program to other states.

The Alzheimer’s Poetry Project, founded by Gary Glazner, recognized Lane’s passion and commitment to this work. In a heartfelt tribute after his passing, APP wrote:

“We were deeply saddened to learn of Christopher’s death in August of 2012. In the early stages of the APP, Lane was the first person Glazner asked to help expand the project to other states. He was an amazing advocate for poetry. On working with elders living with dementia, Lane said, ‘I just see them as my Grandma and Grandpa and hug them just like I would my own loved ones.’ He will be truly missed.”

Under Lane’s direction, the Arizona chapter of APP, sponsored by Northern Arizona Poets (NORAZ Poets), began in 2003 and became an official 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization in 2005.

His deep compassion, dedication, and belief in poetry’s ability to break barriers and foster connection continue to shape APP’s mission today.

An Award-Winning Poet and Arts Advocate

Christopher Lane’s impact on Arizona’s literary and arts communities was widely recognized and celebrated. He received numerous honors for both his poetry and his dedication to fostering creativity and healing through art.

His notable awards and recognitions include:

2010 Bill Desmond Writing Award – Arizona Commission on the Arts
2009 Mayor’s Arts Award – City of Sedona (Individual Category)
2009 Artist Project Grant – City of Sedona Arts and Culture Commission
2008 Gardens for Humanity Visionary Grant
2006 Emerging Artist Grant – City of Sedona Arts and Culture Commission

These awards reflect his tremendous influence as a poet, educator, and advocate, and his commitment to bringing poetry to diverse communities across Arizona.

A Lasting Influence on Poetry and Advocacy

Christopher Lane’s legacy lives on through his written words, community work, and unwavering belief in poetry as a force for change. His poetry remains a beacon of truth for those struggling with addiction and mental health. His work with elders, students, and fellow poets continues to inspire poets, caregivers, and advocates who believe in the transformative power of storytelling.

Though he passed away at just 40 years old, his impact far exceeded his years, and his poetry continues to resonate with those seeking solace, understanding, and a voice that echoes their own. Christopher Lane was a published poet with who is your god now? published by Woodley & Watts.

Revolution by Ed Mabrey

March 7, 2025

“Revolution” by Ed Mabrey

there’s a revolution. it spins like the
world on its axis, so fast it carries no
sound, no image, not even a vibration and
if you run fast, like a child, and come to
a sudden stop in your sprint, close your
eyes quick, and hold your breath. you’ll
feel it, you’ll hear it just say seconds
behind, or a lifetime ahead. right now,
there’s a Vietnamese boy running through
a field with a pair of Nikes tucked
under his arm, dodging bullets like
raindrops, his blistered feet barely
touching the grass, racing across the mud,
racing against consumerism. the shoes are
not for him, but for his grandmother so
that the time in the field can be
gentler in its monotony. right now, a
boy’s just found a stone, he checks his
weight for strength, it’s grooves for
accuracy, then darts off with his fist
held high, signaling to the other that
the stick ball game was officially on,
never knowing that the the rock he holds
is the last reigning piece to a church
bomb years ago in Selma, Alabama and the
sound he hears played after, when he
cracks a home run, is not the tinkling of
broken glass from Miss Johnson’s window,
but four little black angels crying
tears of joy, cheering him as his feet
hit every base. right now, in the Soviet
Union, where the red curtain might be
tatted, but its’ blood stained glow still
cast over the eyes of everyone living
there, and names like Stalin and Lenin
bring shivers colder than the Hudson in
December, and names like optimism, freedom,
and democracy can get you shot, killed if
you’re lucky. there was a girl sticking
her hand into a military bonfire
ignoring the pain and crackling of her
own skin, she takes out a book half charred,
which reads Three Sisters by Chekov
and tucks it underneath the shirt, not
for warmth, but salvation. right now, a
crackhead had waited 10 minutes longer than
he did yesterday, before going in the cop
and tells himself tomorrow I’ll shoot
for 20. a raced girl with bags underneath
her eyes, and in beneath the legs which
both by now her age stands, on the corner
Main & Champion, and when some Tide
State worker comes by flashing crisp $20
bills she gets on the bus and heads home
for the first time in months. can you
hear me now right now? a boy just ran for
his life to go to school today, some girl
got caught and smacked to some
piece of car, leaving her purse
behind, but not a virginity. can you hear
me now? right now, a man just cut off his
TV and actually had a conversation with
his kids. there is a revolution happening
around us every moment, of every day, and
it is not black power, nor white power, it
is not scary, not tyrannical, it is not
Hitler nor Gandhi, Martin or Malcolm, Mama,
no Nora. it is a young couple’s kiss
behind the bleachers and the old couple
holding hands in the mall, it is loving someone
intensely for 5 minutes, then letting go
when the song ends. it is your misfiring
synapses, your unfit high, your seemingly
miserable existence that still keeps
beating in your chest like some Drummer
Boy hellbent on getting through a
spiritual desert, it is writing a poem or
hearing one. it is your inhale and exhale.
right now, there’s a revolution being
fought right around us. look at the
person next to you. see the battle being
fought in their eyes and recognize it is
just a reflection of the same war being
fought inside you. it’s but the effort to
live your life the way you wish every
moment, every day of this life that you
have and that is the battle and that is
the Revolution and your goal tonight is
a inhale and exhale to living live
inhale, exhale. can you hear me now? if so
then fight on soldiers, ‘cuz the life you
saved this night will be your
own.

Transcribed from the video “Revolution” by Ed Mabrey and Poetry Slam Archives.

Watch Ed Mabrey perform “Revolution” on YouTube

About the poet Ed Mabrey

Ed Mabrey’s poem Revolution is an urgent and powerful meditation on the silent, ongoing battles that define human existence. Unlike traditional revolutions that are marked by violence, politics, or ideological shifts, the revolution in Mabrey’s poem is deeply personal, invisible to the untrained eye, yet ever-present in our lives.

The poem unfolds in a series of vignettes, each capturing a moment of struggle, resilience, or defiance from various corners of the world. A Vietnamese boy runs barefoot, dodging bullets, not for himself but to bring comfort to his grandmother. A child picks up a stone for a game, unaware that it is a remnant of a church bombing in Selma, infused with historical pain. A girl in the Soviet Union risks her life to rescue a banned book from flames—not for warmth, but for the survival of knowledge. A crack addict fights against addiction, pushing the boundaries of self-control. A young woman, forced into sex work, takes her first steps toward reclaiming her life.

Through these moments, Mabrey illustrates that revolution is not just found in grand historical narratives but in the quiet acts of endurance, courage, and self-reclamation that happen right now—in real time, all around us. He challenges the reader to recognize the struggles in the eyes of those around them and to see their own internal battles reflected there. The poem’s rhythmic repetition of “right now” creates a sense of immediacy, making the revolution feel not only inevitable but also deeply personal.

Mabrey’s final call to action is simple yet profound: breathe. The act of inhaling and exhaling, of continuing despite hardship, is itself an act of defiance, a way to reclaim one’s life. Revolution is not just about resistance; it is about existence, about the ongoing fight to live authentically and freely.

Discover more about Ed Mabrey’s poetry and performance legacy here on his bio page.

Get Tickets to see Ed Mabrey, Individual World Poetry Slam Champion, feature at Ghost Poetry Show on April 9th, 2025!

April 9th, 2025 at The Rebel Lounge

Doors at 7:00PM | Show at 7:30PM

Advance Price: $10 + fees
Day Of Show Price: $12 + fees

21+This is a special Ghost Poetry Show for National Poetry Month! Individual World Poetry Slam Champion ED MABREY features award-winning poetry live and in-your-face in the intimate setting of The Rebel Lounge!

15 poets compete in a poetry slam for cash prizes judged by 5 randomly selected audience members.

To sign up to perform email us at GhostPoetryShow@gmail.com

BUY TICKETS HERE