Popeye's Receipt

Yikes! It has definitely been awhile since I've been on here. I've been meaning to write something but life and laziness took over. I think it would only be appropriate to lead off with this poem I was suppose to write. Just as a background my brother and a few of my closest friends and I went to Busboys and Poets (not from DC? hit the U st. one up) and we just had a night of great poets hosted by the funny, witty, and too great TooDeep the Poetess. What our night ended in was me holding a Popeye's receipt (now I think about it..how'd I get that? I don't eat Popeye's..lol) with a bunch of random quotes and things written on it and we all decided that I should write a poem incorporating all those things. SOOO seeing how I've been in a super emotionally average state I haven't written in awhILE and hence these poem. All itilicized parts came from the receipt SOOO here it goes.... A Popeye's receipt, an open mic, friends, and a good night:


Try #1 -The Tag on My Gift-

Tunisian Pottery
That was my Fair Trade
My part in Global Exchange
hand made and painted
from the college of colored children that has no walls or barriers
other than the pitfall of assimilating with the chains of our past and the ignorance of the presence I created.
I created to sell more than watermelon more than a three piece, biscuit and fries from Popeye's. I created to sell my spirit, big heart and faith from these eyes.
So that when I wonder if hoodrats make it clap do aristocrats make it applaud?
you smile cause its Toodeep that knows kleptomaniac poetry is cheaper than therapy and that line caused a laugh that healed abandoning fathers, disgruntled mothers, unhappy stairs in the mirror and degrading name calling..so take it
That line saved you from $90 an hour and that awkward moment right before you steal the sauce cup from Fridays...so keep it.
So before I go I want to remind you that I create Tunisian Pottery and its my Fair Trade...my part in Global Exchange...more than just packaged black
Thanks You For Choosing
My Product


Try #2 -Tunisian Pottery-

Tunisian Pottery
That was my Fair Trade
My part in Global Exchange
Hand made and painted
educated from the College of Colored Children
Where asking questions like "If hoodrats make it clap do aristocrats make it applaud" lead into discussions of Black Renaissance and President Obama
Where seeming TooDeep is a normalcy and a fresh cut is ambrosia from the Gods on a Friday night
Where you wouldn't dare be caught eating a 3pc chicken, biscuit and fries with a side of watermelon for fear of perpetuating a stereotype.
My pottery...
is not like the sauce cups you steal from Fridays which inevitably make my meal a little more expensive
Its not cheap, its not brittle, it wasn't mass produced or similar to anything else it is unique and created in a way only virgins dream of...
many breaths, sweat, arched backs, curled toes, thoughtful comments and 6 pair of hands
Mine, hers, and Gods
The curves are gentle and soft
and she doesn't show her age in cracks and chips
has silent beauty and the strength only found in scriptures
She is Tunisian Pottery
my Fair Trade and Global Exchange
My addition to the world
and my only way to describe her is through Kleptomaniac poetry that was cheaper than your therapy
She's every love song and butterfly kiss
My daughter





So thats it..the end..If only you all were here in my mind as I wrote these..def laughing as I relived that night at Busboys. Anyways that was actually a little more challenging than I thought and I will be needing a little break. Comment...DEF let me know which Try you like better.

Continued Blessings
~A. Moore