It's not everyday where you meet someone who can speak to you through the words on a computer screen. However, if you're a reader of elleELLEeye, you may have met Miss Kareema Bee. Not only is she a great blogger, but what you may have not known is that Kareema Bee is a filmmaker and poet.
Taking that it is National Poetry Month, it's only right that we celebrate this up and coming artist who will soon take the world by storm. She's a great talent with all the right intentions; looking to inspire those who she encounters. She has a way with words and not only do they speak encouragement, but they are real. We have behind-the-scenes footage of Kareema Bee's poetisodes "The Love Game" & a look at her trailer for "In This Mind of Mine". Be sure to watch the videos below and keep track of this buzzing bee as she continues to inspire. Happy watching!
A phenomenal woman, that's who she is, but it doesn't stop there. She's an advocate for lupus awareness, a singer and a great poet. In honor of National Poetry Month we want to reintroduce you to Shanelle Gabriel.
If you love a good poem on relationships and love, Shanelle's got you covered. No matter who you are, it's safe to say that you've had a crush before. I've had a few and when I heard this poem I felt like I wrote it. If you haven't experienced a crush, maybe Shanelle will be able to illustrate what it's like in her piece "Crushing Hard". Check it out, leave your thoughts and feel free to share it with others. Happy watching!
What can I say about the most critically acclaimed African-American female voice of our time?
The woman who has touched so many sisters with her words, and graced so many venues with her divine aura.
The woman who took her brunt with racial discrimination, sexual abuse, and economic hardship, and turned it into a series of award-winning novels that has translated messages of hope, faith and perseverance for others to be inspired by.
She is a beautiful living legend we are happy to honor during National Poetry Month: Dr. Maya Angelou.
At the sensational age of 83, Dr. Maya Angelou is still a celebrated poet, novelist, educator, dramatist, producer, actress, historian, filmmaker, and civil rights activist.
She has traveled the world sharing her talent with all walks of life, whether it was through dance as a member of the production of Porgy and Bess(1954-55), as an editor for a weekly publication in Cairo, Egypt (!960), as a professor at the University of Ghana's School of Music and Drama (196o), or as trailblazer alongside Dr. Martin Luther King in the U.S.
Dr. Maya Angelou has a list of published verse, non-fiction, and fiction works that totals more than 30 bestselling titles.
She is a Grammy-award winning artist that has served on two presidential committees, was awarded the Presidential Medal of Arts in 2000, the Lincoln Medal in 2008, and has received over 30 honorary degrees.
What more can I say?
As a fellow poet, Maya Angelou is hands-down my biggest influence in writing. From a young child, her work was placed in front of me, and I fell in love.
Still, she continues to be a creative force, encouraging self-freedom and awakening our consciousness.
In honor of National Poetry Month, I'd like you to meet Janette...itz. She's a poet and lyricist from Los Angeles California, and has been buzzing all over the web with her latest poem "I Will Wait...For You". The poem focuses on one of the largest aspects of a relationship, sex. What I love most about Janette...ikz is how she works her spirituality and relationship with God into her poetry. The poem is real and her delivery draws you in.
In a world where sex is put in the forefront for young people, it's important that the message of abstinence and celibacy is heard. Nowadays, young ladies and teens think that waiting for "The one" is impossible; but they need to hear this message and maybe then, they'll be able to understand how great waiting is. Happy watching!
We've all heard the saying "Life it too short", and when we think about it, it is. There's but only so much time in a day and if I could make a suggestion, it would be for us not to spend one minute of it worrying. Worry is something that robs us of our life. It is wasted time and energy. So here's to not worry, with an inspirational poem. Happy reading!
There are two days in every week, about which we should not worry,
two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.
One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares,
its faults and blunders, its aches and pains.
Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control.
All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.
We cannot undo a single act we performed;
we cannot erase a single word we said.
Yesterday is gone forever.
The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow
with all its possible adversities, its burdens,
its large promise and its poor performance;
Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control.
Tomorrow's sun will rise,
either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise.
Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow,
for it is yet to be born.
This leaves only one day, Today.
Any person can fight the battle of just one day.
It is when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities
Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.
It is not the experience of Today that drives a person mad,
it is the remorse or bitterness of something which happened Yesterday
and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.
Let us, therefore, live but one day at a time.
♥ t i f f a n y
Spread Love. Live life. Be Inspired.
Seems to be much different than the one I am used to in Harlem Why you ask? It begins with the realization of what the term melting pot really means. Out this gigantic window I can see every shade of the spectrum Looking at each face I can imagine their struggle, their plight, their past that led them here
New York City
Midtown to be exact. A place often traveled, yet rarely understood. By whom? by those who live so close, but yet exist so far. Within minutes of the best blend one could ever experience
, The heart beat of New York City - the pulse one might say.
I was introduced to it through curiosity many years ago, Coupled with the desire to see beyond the "Welcome to Dyckman Houses" sign Not wanting to be like those whom I witnessed at the same place at the same time, doing the same things; which for intents and purposes - is nothing.
Nothing, such a mundane terminology, yet complex at the same time. Is it possible to be dually achieving nothing and something at the same time? Ask my physical, most would say you're not doing anything in particular you're just riding the bus. However, keen eyes can see something. My eyes see something. I see, the heartbeat of New York City.
Sometimes I think I became the woman I am by accident, nothing prepared the way, not a dramatic, wayward aunt, or moody mother who read Middlemarch, or godmother who whispered, "You can be whatever you want!" and by doing so performed the god-like function of breathing grit into me. Even my own sisters were more concerned with hairdryers and boys than the poems I recited ad nauseum
in our shared bedrooms when the lights were out. "You're making me sick!" my sisters would say as I ranted on, Whitman's Song of Myself not the best lullaby, I now admit, or Chaucer in middle English which caused many a nightmare fight. "Mami!" they'd called,
"She's doing it again!" Slap of slippers in the hall, door clicks, and lights snapped on. "Why can't you be considerate for once?" "I am," I pleaded, "these are sounds, sweet airs . . .
They give delight and--" "Keep it to yourself!" my mother said, which more than anything anyone in my childhood advised turned me to this paper solitude where I both keep things secret and broadcast my heart for all the world to read. And so, through many drafts, I became the woman I kept to myself as I lay awake in that dark bedroom with the lonesome sound of their soft breathing as my sisters slept.
CRUSH ON A MUSICIAN He writes. He writes and he writes and he speaks into the microphone, Allowing the emotions of his soul to be poured onto the stage filling it to capacity. My body weakens when I see him doing his thing. Not because of the fame… But because of the passion in his eyes when he sees the crowd singing the words to his song. He didn’t know they knew them the rhymes but they do.
At night he sits home and reminisces on the performance he just gave. Amazed at himself with how far he’s come
He’s afraid to never feel that feeling again so the ambition swells a hole in his mind Allowing for the creativity to flow through it freely. This keeps success on the table and hits in his rhyme book.
I look at him in amazement Because he does what he does and he does it better then most. He chases success like it’s a presidential election and he’s got my vote. I’m more than a fan, I’m honestly inspired by him- His ambition is crazy and his talent unmatched by most. And if ever he needs someone to help him do a sound check, I’ll be there.
"Spread the love and live your life, while seeking to inspire and be inspired." Proud supporter of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society
I had a dream last night. I only remember bits & pieces of it, but it inspired this poem. It starts off a little depressing, but there's a good message in it, I promise! I hope it inspires you like it does me. Enjoy!
Swim
I woke up this morning and unaware of where I was. Such a familiar place, but different enough to make me wrinkle my nose. I tilted my head left. The television was off. No music, no news, no Real Housewives of NJ- Nothing’s on the TV. I walked to the window where I used to stare out at the people Each with their own prerogatives, their own wishes and fears What used to be a lively intersection is today Blank. Simply a road with unoccupied shacks along side it, Call me a drama queen but I swear I saw tumbleweed having a race down the block. I walked into the kitchen to an empty pantry and nothing but ice in the freezer. The living room, unoccupied, uninviting and a waste of space.
I drew a blank when I began to try to fathom what has happened to this place where I’ve existed for almost 21 years.
From lively to alone Endearing to trapping And me, the endangered species. What has came of my life? Everything I used to know is gone Everyone I used to love is unfamiliar Or better yet, nonexistent. Who has done this? How could someone be so hateful? Who could do something so coldhearted as to take away the fibers of my being? Then at that moment, it came to me - I did it. I allowed it.
The disappointments of my past entered into my present and they have the ability to ruin my future. It has made me a prisoner in my own mind, a grey place which once used to be colorful. A life that used to live which is not on life support. But how does one believe in the people around them if they know inconsideration? How does one believe in love when so many have done them wrong? How does one believe in themselves when their disappointments being them such grief It’s a never-ending cycle of misfortune that everyone goes through at one point or another And the easiest thing to do is to drown in your own circumstances
However, I suggest you learn how to swim.
Stay Couture, Aliciia (Picture from gcmanfrin.com)
"Spread the love and live your life; while seeking to inspire and be inspired." Proud supporter of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society
How rich would we be if we were paid $1.00 every time the word "Can't" came out of our mouths? Rich enough to do anything we wanted to I bet. Although that shouldn't be the case, we are easily discouraged and let that word become the death wish to our dreams. Let's drop the apostrophe "T" from that word starting today. Here's a poem by Edgar A. Guest entitled "Can't". Happy reading.
_Can't_ is the worst word that's written or spoken; Doing more harm here than slander and lies; On it is many a strong spirit broken, And with it many a good purpose dies. It springs from the lips of the thoughtless each morning And robs us of courage we need through the day: It rings in our ears like a timely-sent warning And laughs when we falter and fall by the way.
_Can't_ is the father of feeble endeavor, The parent of terror and half-hearted work; It weakens the efforts of artisans clever, And makes of the toiler an indolent shirk. It poisons the soul of the man with a vision, It stifles in infancy many a plan; It greets honest toiling with open derision And mocks at the hopes and the dreams of a man.
_Can't_ is a word none should speak without blushing; To utter it should be a symbol of shame; Ambition and courage it daily is crushing; It blights a man's purpose and shortens his aim. Despise it with all of your hatred of error; Refuse it the lodgment it seeks in your brain; Arm against it as a creature of terror, And all that you dream of you some day shall gain.
_Can't_ is the word that is foe to ambition, An enemy ambushed to shatter your will; Its prey is forever the man with a mission And bows but to courage and patience and skill. Hate it, with hatred that's deep and undying, For once it is welcomed 'twill break any man; Whatever the goal you are seeking, keep trying And answer this demon by saying: "I _can_."
My instinct has taught me quite well how to dispel a pheromone 2 those who wish to listen, or read the new word and if you don’t mind sitting. I will blog, yes… but I’ve always been a writer first. And so I hope you do not mind from time to time if I give you the buzz on media, health, and explore literature’s girth.
I would not think to call myself the Queen, no. I’m more of a worker, and I do not mind building up the comb. You see my hope is for you to walk away from each entry quenched with sweet nectar in the back of your jawbone. And if I happen to sting, believe me it was never to make you cry. You see, I was on my way exploring the world with humming wings of passion, and was trying to land on the
It's a privilege, not a right, to be able to do what you love for a living. Some people are blessed with so much talent, yet confined by 4x4 cubicles or behind a register. When you have drive and dedication there is no telling what one can do. You never know, you may end up on a country wide tour. And that is exactly what poets Marcus Wright and Kesed have been doing over the past few years with the Parlé Poetry Tour.
I expected that their performance at the Fordham College at Lincoln Center (on Wednesday, April 21, 2010) would be a good one. I was excited to listen and watch these artist perform their work, and do what they love. And to no surprise, I was not disappointed. I enjoyed every moment of the show. Not only did the poets display their work, but they incorporated everyone in the show by talking and vibing with the audience. When the show was over, I had the pleasure of meeting the poets of Parlé. Here's what we talked about...
How did you get started with poetry? Marcus Wright: People started to ask me about my feelings. I wanted to say things but I couldn't conventionally communicate. Kesed: I have 3 brothers and 2 sisters so growing up I didn't get attention. I began writing and in fourth grade, my writing began to improve. I didn't start performing until I was 16.
What allows you to create? Marcus Wright: I like to get away...create my own place, and think the way people don't want me to think. Kesed: Life. Living freely. Not being prohibited. An artist is given the right to create their own reality.
If you could compare poetry to anything, what would it be? Marcus Wright:Love. I try to put love in everything. Love hurts sometimes; it makes you happy, and sometimes it doesn't make sense. Kesed:Life. That's what it is. Like a subway train with different people, poetry is a glimpse into someone's life.
If you weren't performing poetry, would you rap? Marcus Wright: I don't like the term "rap". I would talk my life and perform short stories. Rappers are plastic. Kesed: I would rap, but It would be uplifting. I'm not into selling candy cuz' that'll give you diabetes, but I'm not into selling broccoli either. Maybe broccoli with cheese. I don't want people to die from the stuff I'm giving them, so I want to provide a healthy medium.
Kesed, Eye see that you're pretty artistic, How has art inspired you? Kesed: I'm attracted to eccentric things. Art continues to push different levels of consciousness. Art inspires evolution and evolution inspires art.
What are 6 things you LOVE? Kesed: - Love - Women - Baby sister - Mother -Family - Wisdom, Knowledge, Understanding
What are 2 Things you LIVE for? Marcus Wright: The Advancement of African American people and making art known to the world.
What are 5 Things that INSPIRE you? Kesed: Water because it can take any form, gentle or rough. Kesed: Nature, in humans. I'm amazed by creativity and stupidity. Sometimes you have to do something stupid to get something creative. Marcus: Everything I see, that's why I really feel [bad] for blind people. Marcus: People who have thoughts and don't speak their mind. Marcus: Parlé
So why should we Parlé with you? Kessed: I cant answer that. It's like the matrix, you gotta see what it is and then you'll know, and make your decision... I mean I could tell you, but you couldn't believe me. Marcus: It's an experience and sound that you've never heard and you can't find it anywhere.
I also had the chance to meet with Kevin, the man who began the Parlé Poetry movement. Not only does he work with the Poetry Tour, but he also publishes a print magazine. If you're ready to Parlé, here's how
Phenomenal Woman: Check out this 17-year old dancer from the Southern Strut Dance Company. It's a nicely choreographed piece to Maya Angelou's "Phenomenal Woman". Happy watching!
A good book is hard to find, but once you find one, it expands your wanting to read even more. Author Rashaun J. Allen writes “A Walk Through Brooklyn”; a collection of nineteen poems that express the black experience from a vivid point of view.
The book's perspective is that of an African American man who has experience growing up in American society without a father, and losing a loving mother. “A Walk Through Brooklyn” covers a range of topics such as self-motivation, love, friendship, abandonment and loss - all things that elleELLEeye value. His poems attempt to ask and answer questions such as: How does self motivation lead to success? What’s the difference between love and lust? Can a friendship be repaired? And how does a parent’s addiction affect a child?
Be sure to keep up with Rashaun as he does book signings around NY. You can see him on March 27th at 12pm for a Book Signing for "A Walk Through Brooklyn" at:
Market Block Books 290 River Street Troy, NY 12180 www.marketblockbooks.com.
BARS FIGHT Samuel Allen like a hero fout And though he was so brave and bold His face no more shall we behold. Eleazer Hawks was killed outright Before he had time to fight Before he did the Indians see Was shot and killed immediately. Oliver Amsden he was slain Which caused his friends much grief and pain. Samuel Amsden they found dead Not many rods off from his head. Adonijah Gillet we do hear Did lose his life which was so dear. John Saddler fled across the water And so escaped the dreadful slaughter. Eunice Allen see the Indians comeing And hoped to save herself by running And had not her petticoats stopt her The awful creatures had not cotched her And tommyhawked her on the head And left her on the ground for dead. Young Samuel Allen, Oh! lack a-day Was taken and carried to Canada.
Lucy Terry (c.1730-1821) is the author of the oldest known work of literature by an African American. Terry was stolen from Africa and sold into slavery as an infant. She was owned by Ebenezer Wells of Deerfield, who allowed her to be baptized into the Christian faith at about five years of age during the Great Awakening.
Her work, "Bars Fight", is a ballad about attack upon two white families by Native Americans on August 25, 1746. The attack occurred in Deerfield, Massachusetts in an area called "The Bars", which was a colonial term for a meadow. The poem was preserved orally until it was finally published in 1855.) "Bars Fight" is her only surviving poem.
I've been noticing a big trend in woman today; and that's pain. But ladies, just know that YOU ARE NEVER ALONE. This is life, pain will inevitably come, but you can get through it. This is a poem that I wanted to share with ya'll that I wrote about two years ago during my freshman year of college. It's called "TODAY".....
Today As I continue to dictate my book of life I must wonder how I came to be the person that stands in front of you Because a year ago at this moment I was dead
Tortured by the models I wanted to look like Shot by the men who I wished noticed me Put into the ground by people who had the taste of my name in their mouth And the rest of me? Decomposed by The family I wanted to make proud I wanted to be everything to everyone at every time of day Perfection God, in the form of a 18 year old college student in a blazer and makeup But through the process stripping away the burnt skin from my manipulated, tortured body Removing the bullet from my flesh with the use of an instrument made of honesty, dignity, and self acceptance I have risen from that box where I used to lie Weak and gullible And now, when I look into the mirror of my soul I no longer see tears of self hatred rolling down my face But Tears of joy That I no longer allow others to profess who I should be I wear a full body suit of protection Made of love for myself by who I am.
Once again it's Monday and that can only mean one out of a million things...it's Music Monday! Today I have a very diverse playlist for your ears' enjoyment. The artists are Wiz Khalifa ft. Ayinde, Shanelle Gabriel (check out her our interview with her), Paramore, Jay-Z and Teyana Taylor. Happy listening!
What do Fried Twinkies, mending broken hearts, the life of a performer and concerts in Africa all have in common? They're all things that were talked about on October 2, 2009 when elleELLEeye sat down with Miss Shanelle Gabriel! Who is Shanelle Gabriel you ask? She's a poet, singer, songwriter and inspiration to anyone living with Lupus.
Here's what happened when we met up with Shanelle in NYC for an interview:
We know that you grew up singing in church, but what inspired you to want to become a performer? I graduated in 2006 from Utica College with a degree in Communication Arts. I like working with kids and I worked at Harlem Children’s Zone. After working there, I worked at a financial company for 9 months and that just put me to sleep so I needed something that would keep me going. You should do something you love rather than what other want you to do. I didn’t fall asleep on stage so I knew that performing was it. I knew that I could write but I had to ask myself,
"Can I write for people to listen to me?"
and that's when I began slam poetry.
What’s your favorite childhood memory? After Christmas, or any holiday my sisters and I would play music, sing and dance.
When did you start performing? I think I was 11-years-old.
Do you remember what your first performance was like?I was performing at Nuyorican Poetry Café and the paper in my hand was shaking. No wait...that wasn’t the first time. It was when I sang "Send Me I’ll Go" at church and I had attitude!
Do you have an alter ego when you perform? No, no Sasha Fierce here.
“I’m me!"
It’s important for me to be myself on stage because that’s what the people want to see.
Stage fright? No, but before a performance I get a little anxious.
What’s your favorite piece to perform? It changes; I’m getting a little tired of "Why I Love You". But "Possibilities" would be my favorite. It’s the first time I combined singing and poetry. Also, I think that this poem is so universal, it can apply to you whether it relates to love, work, etc. everyone can relate to it.
How’d you get started with HBO Def Poetry Jam? They didn’t find me I found them. I submitted my work and felt real excited about the whole thing...until I got to the dressing room and knew everyone that was there [laughs]. It was a lot like nationals. But Stan Lathan is cool.
How do you keep your personal and professional life separate? It’s hard to have a personal life. I bring work on stage with me and that’s what makes it great.
How would you define love?My definition of love is so fly, you ready?
"Love is when you and your partner try to out love one another. It’s not one-sided and it's not about getting love back."
What advice do you have to mend a broken heart? Just get over it! Holding onto the wrong person will only hurt you in the end. You’ve gotten over things in the past, so what makes this so different?
What's your guilty pleasure? Fried Twinkies from the "Chip Shop" in Brooklyn.
Name three things you live for. I live to: (1) make people smile, (2) prove others wrong by following my dreams and (3) enjoy life.
What’s the last song you were listening to? "'Til I Collapse" by Eminem.
Who is your favorite celebrity to hang out with?There's a few, I like hanging out with Graph. I went to a party with him and I had a blast. I also met Joe Budden and it was so funny because I didn’t know who he was at first and he’s like "Hi I’m Joe" and I kept saying "You look so familiar". I asked him where he was from and he said Jersey...after a while I realized it was Joe, Joe Budden!
If being a performer wasn’t an option, what would you be doing right now? I would probably be a teacher or a counselor. I feel like you can still be creative and I like to work with people.
What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re not performing? Eat. Food! I’m passionate about food!
If sky was the limit, what would be your dream performance? I would have a crazy dope show in Africa, the motherland, and it would be a fundraiser for the Lupus Foundation. The performers would be Stevie Wonder, Jill Scott, Michael Jackson (R.I.P.), Jay-Z, and me of course. They would be chanting "Boom Ba Yay Shanelle" and we would all rock out and all perform at the end together. That would be so dope!
What’s next for Shanelle Gabriel? I’m just working on some new tracks for the next album, performing, and writing.
Shanelle was a pleasure to interview and we wish her the best in all that she does! Before we parted ways, she decided to sing elleELLEeye a little something that she's working on. Check it out:
As I'm sitting in my room at this very moment a thought came upon me. I started rapping in my head and at the same time I was thinking that I should write a poem. So while the creative juices are flowing I thought that it would be a cool idea for me to do some slam poetry right now! Here I go...
As I live upon the earth there seems to be so much I'm missing The urge to get my life together becomes my first intuition Now if I'm speaking politically do I become a politician? And if we give to the ungrateful, do we still celebrate Thanksgiving?
We pledge allegiance to a flag Call gay people fags But let someone insult us, we're the epitome of mad.
I appreciate love 'cause it was something I never had And if I could be the first, I would much rather come in last.
I don't sit in the light to "go green" I don't scream to make a scene But I do wear fake ice because I'm at a shortage with my cream
But it's life. The poor or middle class Pay $40 after 12am to shake their a** While the rich, get in free VIP look down at us and just laugh.
But it's life, and we live it Rich or poor we live it If we can't meet the standards of society, we create our own gimmicks. Because it's life.
And scene! I hope you enjoy it. I'm going to leave this one untitled or let you name it.
It's not everyday where you meet someone who can speak to you through the words on a computer screen. However, if you're a reader of elleELLEeye, you may have met Miss Kareema Bee. Not only is she a great blogger, but what you may have not known is that Kareema Bee is a filmmaker and poet.
