Fair Trade

My Monday night. After a beautiful long talk with my aunt Patty, I lost myself in the heart of the art district at the Fair Trade Cafe. I was invited to paint/sell my artwork during their weekly poetry jam. After listening to poets, musicians, and an amazing DJ while painting, I decided to step up and share something I wrote many moons ago. Ironically enough it is titled, "where is my home?" I was overwhelmed with the emotions it brought to surface once I was behind the Mic. I broke through tears and delivered for my first time ever, a poem I wrote and felt. 

"Where is my home?"

"I felt the real thing, 

seen images only dreams seen"

I laugh at voices that agree when my subconsious wants to scream these things

walk around town

looking like some fancy clown. 

not knowing how to get up

cus you spent all weekend getting down

laugh at the truth cus you know its what you need

now that youre eyes are open you know its too late to go back to sleep

but its all about perspective

and you just might get elected

if your thoughts stay positive 

and negativity stays outta it

tryna find a balance, call it self control

and when trouble comes a knocking 

I say "no ones home"

Its the need to be alone because solitude is grand

its not personal and I know it takes a while to understand

take a drive

far far away

debate whether or not this is the place to forever stay.

yet I always come back 

but ofcourse im sure..

you predicted that.

---------

Afterwards we all hung out and had deep conversations introducing me to the culture here in Phoenix.Ironically enough they made me feel like I found my home.