the louderARTS Project

Andera Gibson

Andrea is the 2001, 2002 and 2003 Denver Slam Champion. She has competed at the National Poetry Slam since 2000, leading the Denver team as captain since 2001. Described by the Westword, a Denver-based publication as, ďpolitical, opinionated and partial to the big issues,Ē Andrea has brought herself to the forefront of the Slam community in Denver by tackling controversial topics through spoken word. Also an active part of the Boulder/Denver activist community, Andrea is a member of VOX FEMINISTA. By combining spoken word with other forms of political performance art, she became a member of this Colorado-based performance tribe of radical, political women in 2000. Self-described as a ďqueer, optimistic, peace-activist,Ē she uses her passion for spoken word as a personal and political forum for expression. Andrea was born in Calais, Maine but now resides in Boulder, Colorado were she spends the remainder of her time working as a pre-school teacher.





SHINE

ancient prophets say
weíve all got a little light inside us
and unless we let it stretch out rise up and shine bright
it will burn us up and burn us out
til weíre nothing but ash


and lately iíve been spendin my days
searchin for some sunrays inside me
cuz night is creepin up behind me
and iíve been no shining star
no constellation
no phoenix rising
iíve been closin my eyes and hiding
from the dark of all weíve become
and i know thereís music in me
but its been so far inside
need someone to skin me alive
wrap my hide around the wooden bones of a drum
and beat the rhythm from me
til the song inside me
sounds something like the sun

cause i been sleepin too long

need something to wake me up
before iím out of time
cause this little light of mineís bout ready to burn up
in the hell of my stagnation
when i know damn well my procrastination
is starving nations
carving track marks into the veins of the world
and while iím takin my time
a land mineís ripping the limbs from another little girl
a rapeís breaking the hip bones of another woman walking home
a lynchingís cracking the neck of another black brother
a phone callís waking the mother of another dead soldier no older than eighteen
and i can hear the screaming
still iím dreaming of a better world
instead of building one

where the hellís sun inside me

how much pain do i need to see
before i start to bleed for something other than myself
how much death do i need to remind me
what the hell iím living for
cuz every time a war is ending
another ten are filing in
and my denial is a sin with so much filth
a thousand years of prayers
may never wash away my guilt
why arenít i shining

i never learned to burn out
i was raised with compassion
i was raised to be kind
i was raised to know every open wound on this earth
is a wound of mine
and every time iím on my knees
refusing to stand and be a healer
i may as well be the disease

so someone tell me please
why iíve not been rising
why iíve bee stuck beneath the horizon of my fear
so afraid of the light inside my heart
youíd think iíd rather live forever in the dark
choosing to ignore the fact that the woman next door
has another black eye
pretending the guy on the corner asking for some change
has forgotten how to cry
donít wanna live those lies anymore
my eyes closed prayin for a cure
making homes for my gods in chapels temples and steeples
knowing if the gods had their choice
theyíd make their homes in people
and its bout time i opened up my door
become the savior iíve been praying to
be the salvation iíve been praying for
be the light that shines the sky blue
the first tear a mother cries
when she holds her first daughter for the very first time
the rain water that spawns some truth
the finger on the trigger that decides not to shoot
gonna be the soul in the boot of the soldier running all the way back home
gonna be the love poem she writes to herself when her wounds begin to heal
and she can feel herself again
gonna be that moment when his face finally disappears
the dream that drowns the nightmares
the song that quiets the screaming
til i start to rise everyday like the dawn
let this little light of mine
shine on and on and on



© Andera Gibson



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