This flower petal just floated over my house.
I told it that flowers don’t grow that tall.
I told it that it didn’t make sense.
I told I didn’t understand it.
I told it that it wasn’t a leaf.
I told it that it hadn’t fallen from any great height.
I told it that it would fall to the ground eventually.
It just kept floating.
For 35 years I’ve worked to keep my medical condition a secret and only trusted it with a handful of people so seeing it written out
in print in a news publication (☚ read here!)
ties a knot in my stomach (ironic because of the whole being born without stomach muscles thing). Technically I have been “disabled” my whole life according to medical standards.
Right now that knot is different. Right now it isn’t caused from fear. It is an overwhelming hope that all the little babies spending today in a hospital hooked up to machines living through hell have hope that it gets better. That the doctors aren’t always right. And that a diagnosis is not a death sentence.
When people ask how I live such a normal life … prayer and unconditionality. If you know my parents then you know. If you have ever felt my love then you know my parents. They taught me what Zero Forbidden Goals meant in hospital rooms and hockey rinks long before anyone heard my poetry. The traits that make me a passionate artist and an empathetic leader are traits I learned from my family.
As I write this we are waiting for the official results of the Sacramento Poet Laureate finals and I want to shower an ocean of praise on my ‘competition’ Patrice Hill. Also known as Mama P to a bunch of kids who call me Uncle Dru and a huge inspiration in my own work. Family. This whole process wouldn’t have been the same without having my sister there to make this history with. Regardless of who wins, together we challenged an old system and forced a new framing that will be left as a legacy for young writers for generations to come. She is truly a superhero and a gift to this city. If you don’t know about Sacramento Area Youth Speaks please go check it out and support the incredible work they do.
Thank you to everyone who listens and supports and votes and encourages on the hard days. Award nominations and articles are really nice physical reminders of being seen by your peers and the communities we serve but they are not the reason we do this work. I have not gotten here alone. I built on the shoulders of giants with help from the gods themselves. In all of you.
What we do here is magic.
The voice of the people is sacred.
The music never lies.
Even when you lie to it.
Thanks to Liv Monahan, Editor-at-Large, for the words. All ways always love.
( pause here for a second )
This just in:
So. Um. You guys …………………………………… we did it. 😭🙏🔮❤️
I love you.
Thank you.
( pause here for another second )
https://youtu.be/2U1E-CgIlUE
The fam prescribed a ‘Thank Me’ post before the big gushy ‘Thank You’ post because if ima preach self love then I need to practice it too.
My first poem was a suicide note so good I decided against the attempt.
I wrote on what they told me was a deathbed.
I wrote when teachers said I’d never amount to anything.
I wrote when I was homeless.
I wrote eulogies when my friends died.
I still write when I miss them.
I wrote my way through rehab.
I never stopped writing.
I wrote a whole lifetime of traumas out of me.
I was kicked out of places for “not considering my content” when I just needed a place to tell my story.
I kept writing.
And I made space for everyone else to write.
I fought for the voices of poets I will never know out of love for works that haven’t been created yet.
I have been threatened with arrest for inciting poetry in this city.
I never stopped writing.
I made every sacrifice asked of me and never expected anything in return but the love I was willing to put in.
:: stands on chair ::
I want to thank me for working so tirelessly all these years to be innovative and authentic in honoring this craft, loving so hard and showing up so big for the people, and for just growing up to be the dopest person I know.
If you see me out ever again in life just know we celebratin’.
Dreams come true y’all.
The holiest shit.
—andru defeye
Flommist Andru Defeye is the Guerrilla Poet Laureate of Sacramento. Copyright © 2020 Andru Defeye.
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