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Profile Information
- I am a
- Producer, Songwriter, Rapper, Lyricist, Spoken Word Artist
- About Me:
- MORE THINGS CHANGE
Here’s my story…
Young chick
Born on the wane of unrests
Civil upsets
New dayz coming
Dawn drummed from the ashes of burn down
City streets teemed with
Warm lilts from i-land
Sands
Heard in winds on cooler land
Finding place and space to voice their coming
Girl growed in bricks and tar
Dreaming one day to be that star
Who woulda thought that word would
Get her close
Read everything from X to Roots
Angelou and Toni’s tears
Scribbled love notes ala Blume
Freestyled lyrics over tunes
Danced disco by Christmas lights
Saw stages and big crowds
Heard cheers over Jackson’s howls
And skanked as Marley moved
The Message oozed or rather
Boomed
Into bap mode
Got hooked
Rhymebook became my companion
From party rocks to raised fists
I transformed into
Timeframes I’d only read about
Times before my time when
Revolution was requirement
Rocked by the strength of 5 percent
Hid from the face of screens and mainstreams
Banned like the bebops of mid-century
Hated and lovin it
Traveled through the trenches
From bridges to sewers
Abstract poetical metaphorical lyrical
Sphyrical to
Gangsta boogied gin-driven bassnotes and phat rolls
Booty chicks and mack tales
Streetlife and thug
Messiahs clothed in
Plat chains and tats
The studio is church…
Disciple I remain
Confessed beat junkie
Fiending for queens and
Dotted lines to sign
Get mine by any means
Now I got mouths to feed
Boy child born on the
Cusp of erupt
Bounced to beats in the womb
Watch my lips as I recite
Got that head nod happening
And he’s not even 2
Born of a b-gyrl
Soul inheritor of the
Spirits of the kings of rock
Dreams of mic fiends beats through his veins…
CONNECT THE T.DOTS
I’ve never made love on a subway train
but I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to
feel that movement while moving through
T Dot’s underground veins
But I’ve spied young love sharing kisses on the last seat
oblivious to cold and tired eyes
crushing the air spaces between their lips
Breathless before the train stops
and one has to go home…
I wanted to write a poem
about love in the T.Dot
About loving my blocks
About friendly neighborhood cops
About safety on my street
forgetting about the locks
I wanted to write a poem that stops
My cynical mental from looking @ my four corners
and wondering
“What’s up?”
I wanted to spin loving urban fantasies
of suns rising on the horizon
Subtle shining on a sleeping city
still damp from the nite air…
I wanted to talk about golden days of an
igniting civilization
about loving development
about construction on Yonge.
About building cramped crevices into
compact condos
and creating family living spaces
way up there
But I had to search for love in my atmosphere
and I found it
huddled in early morning just-outta-darkness
Saturday sun hasn’t yet kicked the grayish dawn
Mothers with young gather in the December cold by Lawrence Square
waiting on 12-seaters to transport their waking bodies to see
T.O. transplants
in Kingstown jails
Long-distance love
I’ve seen love
Waiting in long lines
Baby mothers standing with little ones in strollers
outside Don’s, and East’s and West Dens
separated, not by streets and highway,
but plexi-glass windows
Deep scratches in the glass can’t hide their glossy eyes
She tries to smile
Hands leave imprints on the clear wall.
Love
Love will keep us together…
I start remembering sweet kisses behind a mid-town school wall
about romancing on Earlscourt Hill
I start seeing love at No Frills
watching mothers and daddies
chasing 2-year olds through
manic crowds
Saturday shopping becomes quality time
and roaming the aisles is a like a weekly date
Emptying their wallets
and share the duties to feed the fam
He reaches over, taking a bag from her hand…
Love is survival
waking mothers from sleep
Holding them up, trudging on damp streets
early morning
Packed down with brown paper, knap sacks and children
Rushing to let their babies disappear through familiar doorways
where they spend almost as much time as they do at home
Two kisses and she’s off to work
8:30 to 5:30 madness
To pay for daycare, new boots and coats,
a math tutor and piano classes
Love sings “2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20-two”
in high pitches on tarred school yards
the sound of pink plastic beating life into
the asphalt
the rhythm of slap slap, slap slap, slap slap
as rope twist tight around tiny fists
Love yells “Good Morning Ms. B!”
Loudly in little voices, greeting like sunshine
before the beginning of a heavy, heavy day
Love takes me away….
Moves backsides when MC’s tell us to
Banging on walls @ basement parties
Rewinds and comes again
Love sends early morning shout outs on the radio
Love sings “happy birthday to you!” Stevie Wonder-style
Love is Gina Lee on the Love Zone,
and late nite dedications to my baby out in Scarboro
Love is the old school and love jams
Love is the throng
Bodies brushing against me down Yonge
booming systems and sweat and
sweet imports invading the area with
thick lips and roaming eyes
grilling out the drop top
ll cool j licks
feeling it tingling the bottom of my spine
Celebration as the T.O
J’ouvert morning rise
Love’s memory raises tongues
in “Woi!”
as grannies remember
back backing @ Caribana
with the lake on one side
wish University was open to us again
our browns again
flowing blood through the heart of the city
for one day in time
Love shouts
‘nah man!” when you’re standing around Wire’s West Indian Store counter
Variety in familiar packages
Aromas of home
green banana, milo, piece of salt fish
okra
conversation
voices loud over each other, layering
the choir sings the real news of the day
community connected from every area
with “oh gosh” “nah badda wit it” and “wa you-a chat ‘bout, bwoy!”
Islands seem just a little closer now
Bajan’s, J.A’s., Triny’s
soccer blaring as the soundtrack
Silent from the streets
until the door swings open
and brings more to join the mass
Love sits on roof tops on July nites
buzzing on car horns and natural highs
CN and buildings lighting up my nite sky
Top of the world
My brick throne above exhaust fumes
From here I can hear
love chanting in unison with Mary J @ the A.C.C
“eheheeehhhhehhehh”
Asking for “Real Love…I’m searching for that real love…”
Claiming our space tonite…
Self-love sings loudly
in the sound-proof booth of moving cars
knowing people are watching
and you just don’t care
Love pours a little liquid for the brothers who ain’t here
Love travels songs outta multiple churches
framed by long lines of cars and dark hearses
Community longing for love to come down
Preacher pleading to raise the sound of collective voices to
ask ourselves “Where is the love?”
Where is it?
Where is the love
when young guns bust
other young ones
with hot guns in the backs of heads
Where is the love?
when our blank eyes stare
blatantly past
community crisis?
Where is it
when young girls look for
love in all the wrong places
and bad Johns, with no love
beckon outta cracks in downtown car windows
Where is the love?
Here?
Where concrete replaces sand castles
and skyscrapers grow were
green trees use to greet
rich black lands becoming so many
square feet of taxable commodity?
I ask myself where is it?
When long lines lead to nowhere
When “good mornings” are swallowed down
fearsome throats and stuck-up tongues
When musical notes become reason for
call to 911.
When taxi cars pass my brothers by?
When serve and protect stations
house basement dungeons
where the un-convicted receive punches?
Where is the love when little ones are abandoned in
in creek-side meadows
high grasses stained with their blood?
Where is it?
Ruling decisions in Parliament buildings
and City Halls
Is it running for mayor
is it fear when night falls?
Is it…
Hidden in full view between
downtown doorways
thin blankets padded in layers on stiffened backs?
on Park corners where fiends slip between the crack?
Sometimes I wanna forget all that
find a jam that’s packed or
spend my Friday watching pre-war N.Y
and take in Sex in the City
But I remember my text in this city
must reflect
my god given duty come
come correct
back to reality and get down in the Mega-Mecca
Live my life for the mic check
Send love to my peoples
and mad respect
for
surviving the daily
of concrete and bricks
9 to 5 licks
non-paying gigs
and thinking bout moving to the sticks
I asked where the love is
but I’m here
feeling the heat in my city
the beat of my city
Send one love out to my committee
raised on granite and stone
Love is the shocks under my sneakers - when I’m wearing heels
keeping me bouncing to that T. Dot O. Dot anthem
when I feel like I have no home
love keep me moving from block, to block, to block
Sun on my locks
fingers curled from the cold
learning to let icy breeze just flow
Love pushes a neighbor you don’t want to know out the snow
Stops on the highway when 401 others have passed you by
Love meets granny at Pearson Airport
scented with the perfume of home
Love waits for the lady who runs for the bus
Love spends time at the park, instead of shopping at toys are us
Love put words in my dome
Love laid my hat on this stage so I could make it my home
Love bought me this poem
OCTOBER
My son is harvest
born on October’s first
as leaves change
and winds blow with
purpose
over city blocks
We reap
7 months grown
since our seed was sown
You were planted
on journeys from concrete
to where more northern climes
retreat
hidden behind the devils rope
barbed wire containing
the scattering of our seed
You rooted
firmly between my bones
refused to be weeded
clutched on even
when heavy spring rain threatened
to wash away your newness
even when thunder rocked your home
and lightening struck your ground
you protected
your head in your arms
curled up waited
out the turmoiled weather
lapped your nutrients from soaking soil
made tears your sustenance
and as the earth wept
you grew…
HE USED TO LOVE ME (SCENE.1)
He use 2 love me
Was only 12 when he called me
“Young lady, young lady
young lady in the house, c’mon
Let me hear you say ‘oooooow!’”
I delighted in his rap style
Let him fill my head with Casanova legends
Over Le Chic beats
Caught a cold crush
And fell head over heels like the Rock Steady
My heart busting up-rocks in my chest
I remember when he loved me
Got licked by his soul sonic force
He rocked my world
We watched sunsets on Sugerhills
The ground vibrating under us as
Tagged trains traveled thru the earth
Our planet rock spinning on its axis
He said he loved me like
Black wax
My face shone like that
Sometimes he’d wheel me
We’d go bare back
To back
We’d mix and mingle
His fingers caressing my young curve
People always said we’d blend
His sound
My word
He use 2 love me
Taught me to wrap my palm around the steel
Place the tip to my lip and spit
I revealed
“How do I love you
Let me mouth the ways…”
I use to love those days
When he’d rock shell toes and leather
Young eyes scoping me out of
Glass-less frames
Brother was bad in his b-boy stance
One second
Next verse he’s confessing
That he needs true love
Sent me shout outs on his radio
Believe me
He liked it loud
Loved to watch him
Move the crowd
Called me his queen
Placed his rope chain around my neck
And we’re locked
But soon, he stopped hanging as much
Told me his concepts were too complex and now
He was stuck
On his pen and pad
He’d cop records from his pops
He’s getting intense
Obsessed
We’d even be making out to 110 bpms
He said it was time
“Gotta get mines…”
find a spot in the shade
even his dog had a solid gold bone
Said “Girl, one day I’m gonna buy you an island”
So I went
From shows to studios
Listened as he lay down
Lyrical lashes on back tracks
Inspirated by his gritty monotone
Perplexed by his vocab
To dissect was hard
One day, I heard him call himself “God”….
--------
info@motionlive.com
www.myspace.com/motionlive
- Influences:
- word
In the beginning there was the...
and God said...
the word, lyric, the rhyme:
utterance controls our destiny.
I don't know when I became a poet
rapper, spoken word-artiste.
All I know is that somewhere between my first cry and the
coos I share with my son,
word has always been
here.
It was hidden between the covers on shelves at home.
It rhymed when mommy taught me to read "The Rabbit Ran."
It boomed outta my pops' handmade speakers while Bob wailed "So Jah Seh."
It cracked offa black wax as the Last Poets intoned "When The Revolution Coooommmmeesss."
It was the sensual bass of Linton Kwesi Johnson’s half-Yard, half-British swang. It was The night is beautiful/so are the faces of My People;
it was Langston Hughes and “Black Like Me.”
It was De Toronto Dub Poetz trilogy -
Clifton Joseph’s “Pimps” reverberating offa
school auditorium walls.
It was rhyme:
“Don’t push me cause I’m close to the edge…” I lost my mind.
Hard, soul-sonic force- It was the KING OF ROCK and writing out every word of
“Two years ago, a friend of mine, asked me to say some MC rhyme.”
It rhymed, yo.
It was dissin Roxanne and Roxanne dissin back.
Oozing outta 7 holes in my head. It was Bridge Is Over… budda bye bye.
Words licking my feet, sticking to concrete. Every crevice held a blooming emcee with rhyme-book in hand.
It was spit thru taped-up mics falling apart at the seams.
It was dubbed over staticy cassettes with torn-off labels.
It was heavy - lifted in clenched fists.
Words woke up a Nation of Millions.
Flew from tongues over 110 bpms.
Malcolm was resurrected in a sample. Riots were prophesized.
Lips tripped up on gin and juice.
Headz nodded in unison and laid their coasts bare.
Reflection turned Illmatic and wordsmiths admitted that one day we would all die.
It was abstract poetic, street tales, gangsta’s song.
It’s was prayers in the night, desperate meditation,
it was written in scriptures.
Word led me to the river and baptized me,
threatened to drown me sometimes.
Rose me up, recorded my comings and goings.
Seeped thru my pen and ended up a testament.
Landed somewhere between slick vocab and
intellectual property.
Words are my release
my rhyme and non-reason
my spoken witness
I testify.
Word.
- Website:
- http://www.myspace.com/motionlive
- What can I bring to this forum:
- Rhymes, Music Business Information, General Information, Promotion, Other
- What do I need support in:
- Everything
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Im new to this site,what to connect with liked minded females.
Hope to connet with you soon,
Miriam x