Poetry (Spoken Word): Rebirth of a Dream

Rebirth of a Dream

When I was younger, there was this one time
When I dreamed of being a rockstar,
a rebel, a rocker, a hedonist
a ‘whatever-ist’
But that dream I buried deep, deep down
All the way to the depths of my heart
Because no one says go, not a word, not even a no
And I told myself, yeah, maybe not now,
I’ll just be a good girl and work, go move
Because that’s what I know, to be
a student, a daughter, a catholic
a believer

But it’s been almost a decade, and I
haven’t moved from here, still here, in this spot,
this place, this person, this memory
this skin
And I can’t change anymore, goddamn--
Because unfortunately I’m no snake
Who sheds, and leaves, and crawls
Gives no fuck care at all.
It was stupid of me to have followed
Because now no one believes, will believe
If I say no, no thanks, ew, stop, drop

I’ve written essays against the great church
Against the country, against the world
I’ve been fighting, tooth and nail
For all those things conservatives hate
But I can’t say
Breathe, or write
Because all I love know nothing of who I am
Not who I really am
(Not my mom, my sister. Maybe my friends.)
Nobody listens.

Because yes, I like women and gays.
Freedom. Abortion. Euthanasia.
Money. Maybe.
Even sex at fifteen I’ll support.
(Though I’ll stop at cold murder).

And deep inside I want all of them
To retch and stop and cry
For all their hate and prejudices
I want them
To look me in the eyes and say
‘We are still correct’
When obviously they’re not.
I’d like to go up to the government, and say
‘99% of you are stupid/corrupt/ugly’
Or to the church, and say
‘why can’t you just love?’
Or to the world at large, and SHOUT

No one will hear, though, and
Rockstardom is a dream
That might have walked from my heart
But I will rebel.
And my heart beats with every rule I break
Every rule I conquer
But I will rebel
Even silently, for now.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. p says:

    I don’t know if you remember me asking for any poem of yours that I can use as an inspiration for an artwork but if you do, well… It’s just that it sort of was a huge relief to know that we share almost all of these political and sociocultural opinions (yours are far more articulated, of course) and this poem is probably the clincher because shit. Shit, I know how it feels when you censor most of your self and you must know, you must know, that it’s the worst kind of censorship. You must know that goddammit, you can still change. And, well, my point is that you must know that this is spoken word and Sarah Kay has an audience and it actually doesn’t only have to be spoken word so I don’t know why I said that BUT but you must know that my ears, and heart, know how to listen.

    1. Hello! :) Sorry it took me so long to reply. :D I’ve been avoiding the internet like a plague since I’m working on our yearbook. Well. Anyways. Thank you very much, and I’m still working on that poem you asked for.

  2. Gianica, I’m so glad you posted this here, and that I magically found this blog of your’s. Ever since you performed this, I really tried to muster up the courage to ask you for a copy! Haha. But obviously, I couldn’t…

    Anyway. This really is beautiful! It is one of the most honest pieces of poetry that I have ever stumbled upon. I guess what adds to my love for it is because I can relate- not exactly the way you do, of course, since we’re obviously two very (extremely) and not so very different people.
    Awesome job! I love how honest you are.

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