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Briana Blair Crockett, performing at The Roxbury Poetry Festival in Boston, MA.
Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for spoken word and performance poetry.
We seek to showcase the power and diversity of voices in our community. By encouraging and broadcasting the best and brightest performance poets of today, we hope to broaden poetry’s audience, to expand its reach and develop a greater level of cultural appreciation for the art form.
Here we are Holding torn cardboard Frayed sides that remind you Even the boxes were once something Under our mask we say the names of People who still are Someone And something Even in death They keep the guilty names on the tips Of their tongues They know what happened that night Does god look away when he calls a name Do they have to leave violently Immediately Unjustified swallowed into the night Does god march with us anymore Did he ever Did he throw a bottle at stonewall Were his feet tired in washington Does jesus still riot anymore Does he have to verify he is god on a Petition Will he see the same videos and weep Will he pull apart all of the hashtags Under the rubble of the system to find Them Will grief spout out of the hole in his Face until people don't know what they Are looking at Does he feel a noose crawl up his neck And sit itself there like it was planted And watered by fear Does he see how fear has been made in my
Image All tar all bone and marrow all anger Jolting in my veins all dry blood on Sheets my mouth unhinged from its Original design well fear is a mirror Too When he meant We were made in his image Did he mean the image of his death All torn clothes and unjustly hung Meant to be redeemed in heaven Left to the hands of man to be told well If they haven't let me tell you some More we have ran north before And found the other side of the coin we Were sold for Does he feel the 30 pieces Of silver Slither up his throat When he calls our names Does it remind him Of being born an outlaw And dying like one too Tell me How many more names does it take for Redemption to see us And justice to march with us In this life [Applause] You