I nsight

Insight
insight
november 2006
Welcome to the 14th edition of insight magazine!
Featuring:
poetry:
adam falkner
christian reed
claire forster
coert ambrosino
alma e. davila-toro
photography
sean dwyer
emma raynor
under the needle:
myke riley
gerloni cotton
connecting the arts
since day one
f.o.k.u.s.
Alma E. Davila-Toro: art, poetry “Miss [funky] Fresh”
Emma Raynor: photography
Christian Reed: poetry “this is my city”
Marja Lankinen: photography
Maria Simpkins: poetry “I found them”
Coert Ambrosino: poetry “species in danger”
Sean Dwyer: photography “Holocaust Memorial”
Emma Raynor: photography
Levi: poetry “Let the dollars Circulate”
Claire Forster: poetry “stream of conscious in art class”
Sean Dwyer: photography
Adam Falkner: poetry “solstice in a natural:
or “how come you don’t got no ‘i am from’ poem?” ”
Myke Riley: music review “Lupe Fiasco, Food or Liquor?”
Gerloni Cotton: music list “Funky Fresh Music
“Warm Tunes to get you through a Michigan Winter” ”
Editorial Staff:
Marja Lankinen
Myke Riley
Founders:
Atiba Edwards
Alma E. Davila-Toro
Miss [funky] FresH
Makin my [soul] dance
With ya dope ass [beat]
Got me day [dream]in
Thinkin bout [U]
Everyday of the week
[two] turntables
Under a DJs light
[mix]in a bomb tune
as far as I can tell, you really are like a
hip hop song…
one.love
one.love
one.love
one.love
.: PeacE :.
Alma E. Davila-Toro
the world keeps movin
as we move in slow motion
with the almighty [moon]
singing ‘woman i need u’
like neva before
[africa]n woman
you’re the one i adore!
yo funky fresh style
and yo beautiful smile
got me [pop] lockin like beat street
ayo, ima try to hold [US] down
can i keep u?
graff’d on my [hearts] walls
becoming the flyiest burner i’ve ever seen?
make yo hips move
as my [boom] box drops the beat
dancing into my world
making my [soul] GROOVE into yo streets
alma e. davila-toro
this [rose] in spanish harlem
wants to bloom into south central’s mighty [soul]child
can ya dig?
This is my city, my love
It makes promises and tells lies
And comforts
with the presence of disclaimers
Like
Life, liberty and justices for all
or
Subject to credit approval
Where outsiders scream as I laugh
Walking freely, safely only scared of
The clear and unfamiliar
Those who slender forms once graced these streets
The City works
Shaping an environment inside you
Making it recognizable, understandable
of the ability to stand only alone with your
thoughts;
Knowledge and potential to maintain
The art that is the creation of you.
Cold green morning mourning
Looking forward to Thursday nights
Because collective visions take time
Time that it takes for questions
Because they are hard to come by
But they are there
Like the strangers
Who trust in Beautiful things
And are people too….
emma raynor
But sometimes, I smile at them
As if they are animals, caged into monotonous
thoughts, as if they are in a zoo, staring blankly
at the outside world.
This is my city
My Lover
[Chris]tian Reed
I found them
Waiting for me
Waiting to let me free
I put them on
Secure and tight
I spread my wings in that joyous flight
The wind came to whisper
The clouds came to kiss
I needed to go higher
Up I flew into the mist
I broke free of the clouds
Spied the blaring sun
I was a diamond in the blue
I knew what I shouldn’t do
I flew quite quickly, quite fast, quite swift
That some feathers fell away
The closer I got the hotter it seemed
I felt part of me twist at the seams
I looked back to see my wings
So beautiful was my doom
From brightest white to darkest red
liquid trails of fires dread
Trailing after
I flew down my wings pulled tight
Scalding feathers never far behind
To the silent blue below
I dived unto the depths unseen
My life my soul my wings floatingly fell away from me
And I was left alone at the bottom of the sea
marja lankinen
To my happiness and dismay
I saw another careening down
Destroying themselves in the very same way
Maria Simpkins
species in danger
who among us stands threatened
beneath a throng of spitting trees?
mouths crushing cedar gums
splintered ugly with meaningless words
dripping
like sap
like blood
from a nose
from an insult
from a lifetime
of pricks and cunts
and fists hard as redwood
shattered
like bone
like trust
hallow
like a trunk exploded
the image of a lightning strike
repeated inside a mind
burned
like a forest
swallows violence
to spit it out beautiful
bark scarred circular
a single blade of grass
pushing up
through the chest of a cardinal
decayed
like culture
bruised and cracking
like a stone
that knows nothing
of healing
or spring
coert ambrosino
sean dwyer
They say money makes the world go round
and that cash rules everything around me
so maybe that’s why I’m getting so dizzy
in the same spot where they found me
cause I’m stuck to the ground see
while everything else continues to move about me
and progress is taking place without me
I’m steadily trying to pull my feet from the concrete
and vigorously shaking and yanking wildly
------------------------------------------------But I’m not the only one, cause when I put my head on a swivel
I look around and notice that I’m directly in the middle
of a crowd of individuals
whose proud but just a little
at the situation that shouldn’t fit them
And that’s not to say that we all don’t have a choice
but when we speak to let it be known we have a voice
that choice to raise our voice above the noise is made void
cause someone figured it wouldn’t be good for him and his boys
------------------------------------------------So what else can we do but be left down here to wallow in our pain
cause obviously down here no one comes to visit
or take care of us at the bottom of the chain
And of course we not just gon give up, or lay down and die
we do what we have to just to get by
and sometimes it gets hard, as it was once said that we don’t die we multiply
But the same could be said about the problems to which our lives apply
------------------------------------------------People dodging numerous pits
trying to block the numerous hits
taking care of numerous kids
but never seeing numerous dividends
------------------------------------------------See, I used to joke with my boy about girls,
saying you can’t spell beat without eat
meaning if she messed with one of us she’d get twice the treat
But see, where I’m from, you really can’t spell beat without eat
cause you gotta beat somebody’s ass
just to get a meal that’s gon last
and no matter how fast you get it
it always seems to leave faster than the method you used to obtain it
so you have a tendency to forget it, as if it, didn’t, ever even happen
emma raynor
sean dwyer
stream of conscious in art class
see, while you’re sitting here listening to me
they’re probably dodging the pits, blocking the hits,
looking after the kids, or placing the life of a man in their hands
and all of this just to get something to eat
------------------------------------------------Fortunately for you there’s me
and if you haven’t realized then peep
notice the residue of concrete around my feet
meaning I was able to get loose, and put to you use,
my creative juice, to produce what you see before you
but that’s just me
cause there’s so many still left behind
who might just fade away with time
but just cause they disappear does not make it fine
------------------------------------------------I’m an illustration of the potential of those still trapped
and when I’m in the position to provide, believe me, I’m going back
cause like they say
those that come after us is where the future’s at
So, because there’s no one around to help carry the weight
it’s time to step up and participate
cause even if it doesn’t buy love or happiness
we can mediate what’s happening
when we
let the dollars circulate.
Poem/Spoken Word Title: Let the Dollars Circulate
Artist: Levi
Submitted By: Joseph McDaniel
i.
we're supposed
to
philosophize
on
what we think belongs
in the box labelled "Art"
but i'd just like to
tap my pen on lined page
and
pointilate
my answer in waves of
light and dark.
remind myself that words
cannot stand for everything
like the anxious
nag
thump
i ty to mantra away
the shaking stone
my nerves
so infrequent settled
i must not worry
i must not worry
but
shake/tap
i cannot stay still
pointilism.
ii.
I would like to stop worrying
inverted
about my ^ reflection
in the back of others' minds
it is not possible to know me.
but thick boys
that i slam into
always at the
wrong time...
how do i show me?
I fall back
@ the solidity
of their chest
imagine holding my weight
like a
handstand over them
palms flattened against pecs
i look down
this is the only way i see
from a distance
i cannot wonder more
what i look like
upside down.
iii.
i write like crazy
i write crazy
never want to stop
when i can finally let
my ink go
i write crazy
i will never know again
what it is like to truly pay attention
to anything else
we do not know who we are
so why do we try
iv.
I don't remember what it was like to
see
before I started wondering what other
people were seeing.
claire forster
solstice in a natural:
or “how come you don’t got no ‘i am from’ poem?”
i’m a bluesbaby:
cradled by my father
speakerside on sunday mornings
born into the arms of a new hip,
hop scotch picassos
in danda-lined sidewalks
talkin shit early,
i was that kid on the playground,
first freeze to last bloom.
i ride the swell of season in its cycle,
rinse, repeat.
lingo twisted thick
in a tongue i’d later learn
to love by
to live by
to believe the bond of beat
tie stronger than single parenthood…
my coming of age
through time is music,
its melody pulls
like red wagon to peer pressure,
progression of it’s chord play
gepetto puppets strings stuck to the sun
sucking daylight
and returning it
to begin again
when the encore fades like watercolor.
i am june:
the sound of leather pounding
in summer comes sacred
till sunlight swallowed in
the mouths of cicadas
hums a hymnal
for the afternoon to erode like hairlines.
splashing in drain pipes
and muddy fights in waist high,
bedtime yarn of class cut
and bad-ass
belly born detroit boy mischief
spinning from grandfather’s lips.
life lessons like
“sing before you speak…”
“dance before you walk…”
“and cry prior to falling
so you know what it feels like when you do son….
because you will son.”
october:
the walnut crumble of
autumn under timbs,
wind whips lung puncturing;
bleeding heat of breath;
arthritic,
tickling trees into blushing.
bus stop jive shit
colorful then,
funky then,
like chilly morning
woodchip-cigarette passin laughter
at steam from chapped lips…
i’m a group caboose
squeezing from skin tone like sweat and
aching to fit hand-me-down hoodies,
two sizes
too big
too early to
know the smell of good weed
like home cookin.
one less way to see the world naked
‘fore it gets bitter like baby-mamas.
still that kid on the playground
but starting to improvise
covered slide into tunnels from teacher vision
this is the pull of my season,
from red wagon to peer pressure.
i am january:
firewood crackle in flame snap
like fumbling rookie unfastening strap, stuck
as fifteen going on virginity.
winter feels
thick like air in waiting rooms,
suffocating:
a shepard of sheep
whose ship
he’s told could sink whiskey water,
i am learning
to double knot laces
when shoes are too big to fill
and how to laugh at somber jokes –
a cracking tenor tone held
accidental after cut-off into silence
so still that breaking ash becomes gunshot.
i am april:
when lemonade and lilacs gots
attitude once again,
till riverbed humidity licks
sticky salt from skin.
mosquito alley am-track
tin can
rattles back:
through dutch-double
slaps on concrete
as palms in congregation,
racing back:
through crawl space closet forts
and furniture tent kisses,
first little league hit
first beer, first Mrs.
first real scar with ya
first set of stitches
and ya first real job
from jiminy-cricket wishes,
waiting
for that long front rim rebound
back:
to that first high
that worst high
to be young, in summer,
untouchable high…
when lip corners salivate,
to bake on blacktop
drop with the radio loud.
when tardy is on time
the days are molasses
and the sound of leather pounding comes sacred…
…but until then
i ride the swell of season in its cycle,
rinse, repeat.
step on its toes mid-waltz,
drift,
capsize,
let it beach me
lungs heaving
and begin again
when the encore fades like watercolor.
Adam Falkner
Lupe Fiasco, Food or Liquor?
Lupe Fiasco, Food & Liquor
Atlantic Records
by Mike Riley
One of the most well kept secrets among the hip-hop music industry
for the last two years, Lupe Fiasco has been making his mark under
the radar appearing only as a feature in places like Kanye West albums.
He’s been acclaimed by record executives, music critics and other
artists since he first started hitting the scene. Even Jay-z praised Lupe
Fiasco as having talents similar to his own from when he first began.
Yet with all this hype does his album really reach it’s acclaim?
The debut album, “Food and Liquor” starts off by explaining that in
life you have your good and your bad, your food and your liquor. I don’t
think he was talking about his album because he definitely fattened us
up with nothing but good. The only questionable parts of the album are
the beginning and the end. The intro a spoken word piece that would
make any Chicago native nostalgic for home leads gracefully to an
underground beat, where he spends the last two minutes to describe
his album. It drags a bit wasting a good beat, but is still entertaining.
The weakest part of the album would probably be the outro, which is
just a 12 minute shout out. Still the beat is nice, and out of 16 tracks they
can’t all be perfect.
As for the rest of the album the Chicago native brings a completely
new sound to the hip-hop experience without recycled tracks from
Kanye. As a matter of fact there are only two partially sampled sound in
his entire album. Every track has a different sound than everything
before it on the album, whether it has a rock beat, slow hip-hop sound
or bumping club sound.
The first real song on the album, “something real”, doesn’t disappoint.
On top of having an interesting mix of a rock and hip hop sound the
first song illustrates that he is not a lyricist to be taken lightly bringing
the lyrical heat in the first track he spits on. The third track is were he
takes a second to slow the album down a little with “Kick, Push”. This track
highlights his ability to tell stories and keep the listener interested.
Having a relaxing sound it had people all summer wondering why they
were singing along with a song about skate boarding.
If your looking for the next probable singles from the album catch
“I gotcha” and “Sunshine”.“I gotcha” has a real simple beat and is the first
time where the album takes a break to just have fun and enjoy the
sound. “Sunshine” uses new computer based melodies that compliment
this modern day love song.
“The Instrumental” is where we really get to see Lupe Fiasco’s
versatility. Using an alternative/rock sound to tell another story; the
hard beat sets a serious tone to the track. Also featuring Jonah Matranga
to do the hook makes this a fresh sound. Another place on the album
for an interesting sound would be “the cool”.
The track “Pressure” had to be a lot of pressure for Lupe Fiasco,
featuring the retired Jay-Z who had been comparing Lupe to himself in
respect to talent. In the end Lupe measured up, preceding Jigga’ with
two verses which in the end did sound like the critically acclaimed MC.
On top of that “The emperors Soundtrack” sounds like something
straight off the blueprint or The Black Album.
What makes Food & Liquor such a good album on top of having an
amazing lyricist and the backing of a major name in the industry is his
ability to balance the album. This album has a little bit of everything,
from old school to new school, hip-hop to alternative to rock. Anyone
can find at least three tracks on this album that they like. And lets not
forget that his abilities are indeed phenomenal, whether he’s telling a
story of just joking around on a track. Food & Liquor gets four and half
stars from us and Kicks and pushes its way up the charts. For the time
being Lupe Fiasco gets to enjoy his time in the Sunshine. ***
-Myke Riley
Funky Fresh Music
“Warm Tunes to get you through a Michigan Winter”
“Say Yes to Michigan” by Sufjan Stevens
“Feel Like Making Love” by Roberta Flack
“Magnetized” by Laura Veirs
“Dust” by Van Hunt
“Fidelity” by Regina Spektor
“Make You Feel That Way” by Blackalicious
“Care of Cell 44” by The Zombies
“I Couldn’t Love You More” by Sade
“Rocket Love” by Stevie Wonder
“Good People” by Jack Johnson
“Whatever You Say” by Little Brother
“You Send Me” by Aretha Franklin
“Unlovable” by The Smiths
“It A’int Hard to Tell” by Nas
“Send It On” by D’Angelo
“Feelin It” by Jay-Z
“My Old Man” by Joni Mitchell
“Great Big Bundle of Love” by Brenton Wood
“Love Me or Leave Me” by Nina Simone
“Sunshine” by Lupe Fiasco
fighting. obstacles. knowing. ultimate.
.success.
www.onefokus.org