This Friday!!

Natasha's debut night of hosting at Coco's Butter Cafe! Tell your friends!

Jazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!! and Poeeeeeetrrrryy!!!!!!!

This Friday check us out! Please!

Keep the applause going for...

Tera Cafe-

Man that was definitely an artist's refuge, it was saturated with talent! I had a great time, although I was not 100% (meds and fatigue) I had an enjoyable experience, Thank you Tiffany for putting together such a wonderful venue. You definitely have a supporter out of me. As for my performance asi-asi (so so) I loved the piece, and I'm working on putting it up top, but I felt that it was not delivered (or received) how I wanted, partly because of my personal feelings.

Raven I'm sorry once again I won't make it to Storytellers on Sunday, I made a promise and I was able to keep half of it for the weekend, but September will be a big month for Storytellers and I want to be apart of it!

Off to NYC I go, I need a soul purge.

Hello hello hello hello hello Hello hello

We had a great time Sunday (Aug. 9th), the photos will be up soon! This week I will be at Bare Soul hosted by Tiffany Lynnell (Friday) and Storytellers hosted by Raven (Sunday). I believe fellow talented artist Natasha Ramsey and Veronica Westlake will be present at these venues too. Be on the lookout for the event post for August 21st, Jazz & Poetry featuring Nex Level & Th3rd Avenue.

Goodbye

This Sunday!

Hey All!

As most of you know... Poetic Summer's Evening is almost here! This Sunday we plan to have a lot of fun, we got wine, an airbrush artist, gourmet food, jewelry vendor, clothing vendors and a bunch of activities to just have a great time. Just to confirm, the event is Sunday from 3pm to 7pm at Patapsco State Park, if you need to google map or gps the location here is the best address to use :

8054 Johnnycake rd, Md 21244

This is at the Patapsco State Park pavilion 705A

We'll have an itinerary available at the location, but we'll have several things to do and we'll open the mic to you all! I hope to see you all there! Bring a friend, and if you can't make it, tell a friend!

The website below has the flyer and other information if you need to refer to it!' (blogspot and myspace)

Thanks!

Louis

443-829-0055
http://www.myspace.com/Th3rd_Avenue
Th3rd-Avenue.blogspot.com

DON'T MISS IT!

The making of...

I drink when I'm stressed
I drink when I'm bored
Guess I'm an alcoholic

I smoke when I'm nervous
I smoke when I'm excited
Guess I'm hooked on blacks

I have sex when I'm horny
I have sex when I'm not horny
Guess I'm addicted to sex

I break things by accident
I trip unprovoked
Guess I'm clumsy

I do things because I shouldn't
I like the challenge and defiance
Guess I'm foolish

I hate being upset and in pain
I love trying to overcome it
Guess I'm masochistic

I write when I need to overflow a thought
I write when I think nothing at all
Guess I'm a writer

I smile through the pain
I laugh when things are insane
Guess I'm scared

My words speak
I spoke
Guess I'm a poet

Drink up with me now...

"...and forget all about pressure of days. Do what I say."
-M. Peyroux

A week ago began a pivotal and heightening chapter in my world of words. Yes poetry's gracious hand nudged me further into its realm of amazement and relief. Last Wednesday, I hosted along with partner and Th3rd Avenue sister Natasha Ramsey. Marking our first time hosting together and our first time hosting at the particular venue. Now, not to dog Gladys or anything of that sort, but the restaurant was ill-equipped to sustain supporters of poetry (Whether they are the poets themselves or the audience). In order to fully grasp attention it was necessary for one of the performers to literally stand on top of a bar stool to perform. (Thanks DK!)

I will not go into the details that amounted to (un)successful night, but lets just say we will not be doing it there again, unless distinct changes are made, which I doubt will occur.

Thursday & Friday - Crabs & Beer! Need I say more??

Something I shouldn't have done was drink and stay up late, because Saturday morning at 7:30AM I had to succumb to the unpalatable taste of test taking's tit. Yes Math, Reading and Writing Praxis I until about noon. Then it was immediately off to Capital Heights Maryland to perform at Ayieta's PampHER party as one of the featured poets. It was a blessing and an honor. I brought my pal Natasha Ramsey to enjoy in the festivities (Tai Chi-Qong) and perform (and she never disappoints).

RIGHT after we chowed on some curry chicken we fled north to Coco's Butter Cafe so that I could host a night of Jazz & Poetry with Nex Level. Amazing night of that. Fun, energized and a perfect blend of the arts.

After that Adam's Morgan. No drinks though, broke as hell.

Sunday. MY FIRST FEATURE as a poet at MLV Sundaze presented at Eden's Lounge. Now the turnout wasn't nearly what I had hoped, but it was still fun. I was able to display my art, present my craft and it went well.

Monday. Trip to Shirlington, met up with vets Mike Shellington and Gary Logan to present at Busboys & Poets. That was fun, great venue, nice mix of crowd and it was a fine place for me to present my art.

So, there's my week.

Starts all over again this Friday!

Th3rd Stop

So, it's been a while. Okay exceptionally long, since I have here to bless this blog. I do miss you, I really do, just like I miss getting paid good money. Just like I miss having the luxury to go freely where I want. Regardless of what I miss, what I have once again, my words.

Nothing has been new, always thinking crazy, always dreaming darker, always walking with smiles. I am undoubtedly and unequivocally in love. That's another blog though.

I've been hosting a LOT ... in the same place, Coco's Butter Cafe, Blues & Poetry, Jazz & Poetry, Open Mic, Nights, all kinds of events, but hosting days there have been numbered due to circumstances beyond my control.

So thanks to Sweetbaby Publishing I am on my road to publishing my 2nd book of poetry which I've been working hard to perfect. For months now I have debated titles for my next work, because i believe the work represents me in its entirety. And the title needs ring Th3rd Th3rd Th3rd, because it is the gateway to my representation.

Oooh, you want me to type it don't you.

Not yet.

BUT KNOW, it is my soul, the innate representation of Th3rd.

Mina Spits: June-Teenth, 2009

Mina Spits: June-Teenth, 2009

Where you at?

I have been out a while haven't I?

Haven't blogged about life and the disorderly as of late. I have been on a purge trying to source words for other realms of writing for the time being. But I do miss writing here. Expect something soon.

Th3rd

The Kind of Love I Want For Me

I want the kind of love that endures

The same kind of love I’d climb mountains for

Or travel to some distant shore

I want the kind of love for which I’d break down doors

A love that isn’t bound by one’s personalities

A love that opens your eyes to the beauty of the trees

And the grace in the flight of bees

And your heart beats to a new melody

I want a patient love that just allows me to be me

Without standards that falsely measure my heart’s capacity

A love that doesn’t need a barometer

A love so perfect that you can just let it be

I want a love that is born out of caring and respect

So neither one of us are ever accused of or faced with neglect

A love that is nurtured with understanding

A love that is not so demanding

I want a love that makes me rush to get home

To remind her that she will never be alone

I want a love that makes me once again believe

And not have to worry about being deceived

I want the kind of love that makes me cry

Not that I want to cry… but let me explain why

It reminds me that for me the love would not be a lie

That kind of love where you don’t have to even try

A pure love because there is an ease and comfort that it brings

And makes it easy to kneel on one knee holding a wedding ring

The kind of love that opens your ears to hear the angels sing

And opens your heart to the world’s greatest thing

I want a love that flourishes with time

I want a love that simply promises to be

Everything that I ask for in this rhyme

That’s the kind of love I want for me

Our Worst Enemy

Displaced from home and brought across the seas

Disgraced and exploited for prophet and greed

Forced into slave labor to supply their master’s needs

Though some did escape… most just hung from trees

Nine lashes with the whip… then just left their to bleed

Denied the opportunity just to learn how to read

It’s no wonder they risked life and limb just to be freed

President Lincoln supposedly provided the key

Merely a tactic used so the South wouldn’t succeed

And when finally we were freed

We were introduced to the kind of people that Jim Crow breeds

Now even more we’re hanging from trees

Because of the contempt some people keep

Solidarity arose because there was a need for unity

Demonstrations… really peaceful situations… were met with hostility

Separate facilities were provided for our needs

Separate water fountains were provided for us to drink

A King arose because someone needed to lead

Following in the path made by former leaders' feet

The FBI seemed to erase a kingdom by killing it's Kings

Deaths shrouded in conspiracy

But that Kingdom is not completely deceased

It lies within the pride of which our grandparents speak

The path they traveled was forged from the calluses on their feet

They were the ones in the Black Panther party

They were the subjects of an FBI sting

COINTELPRO was designed to destroy them in the streets

Flooded us with cocaine and crack... meant to destroy our communities

We legally fight them with the NAACP

For the uplifting of our people is truly necessary

Social and political sabotage instituted empirically

Our right to vote is not really a right you see

The Lyndon Johnson Act makes it only temporary

Scheduled for a re vote next year when Congress reconvenes

Just leads me to believe, socially and politically

That we're still held on a very long leash

As a people we did make strides towards equality

It seems only to be met with a more subtle racist mentality

And there are still places where we STILL hang from trees

We're not exactly helping our cause either... you see

There is no unity within the Black community

And the younger generation? They live by a different creed

Only out for self... motivated by making money

Not that I blame them but they act and they don't think

Fueled by sin under the mask of virtue... that is pure insanity

No hopes... no dreams... no goals it seems

Sports and entertainment have given them opportunity

But behind the scenes THEY somehow seem to pull the strings

Throw millions in the laps of kids... give them the key to their dreams

Throw them on the world stage to shine ever so brightly

Their lives in the hands of men that just use them to make money

Another alternative is the processed derivative of the coca leaf

Which only leads you down two parallel streets

One leads to the penitentiary

The other to the cemetery

West Side Story

I'm from Baltimore's West side

Folks might say it's the best side

The truth is it's where the distressed collide

Some fire guns and the others die

Where mothers clutch dead children to their breasts and wonder why

"Why oh why did my child have to die?"

Praying to God to get them back but only left to cry

To escape this hell I've tried

But once again it's here I subside

The city that reads? Somebody lied

More like the city that bleeds... you can still see where the blood has dried

Where the dealers sleep all day and post up all night

Where fiends sniff so much dope their notrils are dried

Shoot so much crack their brains are fried

Smoke so much weed they have bloodshot eyes

Drink so much liquor their livers are expired

Where nothing remains... everything has it's time

There use to be an economy on the rise

The only businesses left sell fake hair or chicken and fries

Dudes selling loose cigarettes on the side

Cemetaries are full but that's not a surprise

Morticians make a killing in my city where so many die

You can hear the sirens everywhere... another day in the life

Make one wrong move.... the autopsy table is where you'll lie

M.E. pulling out bullets from your back and your side

"Maam... I think this is your son.. can you please come down and identify?"

There ain't that much to do here... some club like Choices on a Friday night

Guaranteed before you leave someone will get in a fight

Grab some grub at a spot open all night

Make it home just before the morning light

Sleep all day and do the same thing the next night

Now how's that for urban plight?

We Are A Part

We are apart of long lineage of those that understand what the meaning of burden is

A race that have stood on the front line in the war on poverty

That knows the pain of watching their loved ones hanging from nooses

Done by those who looked at their lives as a novelty

For whom 40 acres and a mule were replaced with 40 ounces and the blues

And we can still feel the dogs biting at our ankles and the separate list of rules

We're the ones whose accomplishments never made the news

Our elders reduced to shining the shoes of rich white fools

Big mama's too tired to tend to us 'cause she's worked all day chasing the white ladies' kids

She came home with just enough strength to cook us a meal

Barely had enough time to sit down and rest her eyelids

Before having another long day with which to deal

We are apart of the moment when Jackie broke the color lines

And when Martin spoke of reaching the promised land

And when Malcolm wanted people to mobilize

And when Garvey wanted to take us home again

We apart of a proud long history of pioneers

Of honor and joy

struggle and pain

scars and millions of tears

And we continue to tread forward

Overcoming again and again