September’s Second Saturday Open Mic Poetry Reading
Portland Brew East
1921 Eastland Avenue
Nashville, TN 37206
Sign-up at 5:30pm
Reading starts at 6:00pm
Each reader on the open mic gets a turn to share one poem in the 1st round, and anyone who places a star next to their name on the sign-up list may have another turn in the 2nd round.
September Feature El
El is a former Army brat who moved from Tacoma, Washington, to Nashville, Tennessee, 19 years ago. Her love for words came from her mother who had been creating poetry to accompany El on her life lessons. She reached for the pen as self-expression and uses her writing to solve problems that find their solutions throughout the course of the story.
She began dedicating more and more time writing and has officially begun a site called Rainbow Minds. Whether there is a poem on the mind or a story of another that has to be heard, there will always be a home for every form of writing to be shared.
Surviving My Memoirs
I’m not scared of my last day, why? I survived
A mother who beat her insecurities into me, a “friend” who didn’t hear the word no and tried to make this body his own, a father who never wanted his heart to be my home, a dad who was surprised by the color of my skin, recognizing this bastard child did not share his blood and was deemed to feel forever alone
Surviving each “you’re stupid” “you need makeup” “what are you wearing”, you only get to see what I choose to show
Did I show the mark on my arm from the shattered frame holding baby me, was completely shocked by the pain but was happy to bleed?
How about the lines on my hips, making me a woman before I was ever ready?
No, because you only care about the color of lipstick and when I was dumb enough to not to hide when I cried
You took a part of her, but it’s okay
Today’s the day these purposeful lips say fuck you while loving me
When I’m gone, release my poems
Show them I’ve been through hell but froze it over and made it back
Smudged to perfection, doing things even when I’m not good enough
Not good enough
An epidemic my DNA is wearing to disguise who she really is
I’ve enough of not good enough
She’s a later bloomer just trying to find her spring
I won’t stand for your victim shaming just like I won’t stand for my victimizing
Because these contemporary moving atoms survived
So, fuck you, I love how her feet control the snare of her marching band
This epidermis is epically exemplary
Her hair horrifyingly heavenly harmoniously hers
A monarch metamorphosed miraculously
These curls, Mine
Sunken eyes, Mine
Rubbing thighs, Mine
Double chin line, Mine
You may have won the battle, but through the war I will survive