Staceyann Chin launches our first gender and sexuality series
14 May, 2013
Busboys and Poets’s new gender and sexuality series Zami kicks-off to an incredible start with poet, activist, author Staceyann Chin
Women of Busboys
21 March, 2013
Meet the fabulous women of Busboys and Poets #womenshistorymonth
The People’s Poetry
16 March, 2013
You send us your poetry and we publish them on our blog! Send your poem to events@busboysandpoets.com and it may show up!
Busboys Book Club
19 February, 2013
Join the book club at Busboys and Poets!
“Behind the Kitchen Door”
8 February, 2013
“Paid sick leave is a human rights issue” - owner Andy Shallal
Speeches from our 2013 Inaugural Peace Ball
21 January, 2013
Angela Davis, Sonia Sanchez, Ben Jealous, Julian Bond, voice their support for President Obama but remind us that there is much work to be done
DC SCORES Poetry Slam!
15 January, 2013
A compilation of some of the top poetry from DC Scores youth
Peace Ball Speaker Spotlight on Angela Davis!
3 January, 2013
Thrilled to hear Angela Davis speak at The Peace Ball on Jan. 20, 2013!
2013 Inaugural Peace Ball: Voices of Hope and Resistance
11 November, 2012
Join us for an unforgettable evening with some legendary progressive icons and friends
“In D.C. Debate, Third-Party Presidential Contenders Decry a System Stacked Against Them”
7 November, 2012
DCist covers the Third-Party Presidential Debate hosted at Busboys
“Why Vote? Because You Can Shift Power in the United States”
2 November, 2012
Article from The Nation magazine underscores the importance of voting in the upcoming election - only 4 days away!
“White Space, Black Space”
14 October, 2012
Don’t call it self-segregation: Making the case for separateness
Preview of the Busboys and Poets “In-House Series” events
22 August, 2012
A brief look at the monthly Busboys and Poets sponsored opportunities to engage with your community
“Dear Mr. Akin, I Want You to Imagine…”
21 August, 2012
Eve Ensler’s response to Rep. Akin’s comment that women’s bodies are able to prevent pregnancy in cases of ‘legitimate rape’ ...
“Meet the People Who Gave Birth to Hipsterism—Hint: They Aren’t White Kids from Williamsburg”
18 August, 2012
An excerpt adapted from Rebecca Walker’s book, “Black Cool: One Thousand Streams of Blackness”
“On D.C.’s U Street, can’t we all just swagger along?”
14 August, 2012
Owner Andy Shallal’s letter to the editor in the Washington Post in response to an article about “swagger jacking”
Ramadan and the Games
28 July, 2012
Olympic games callously scheduled during the holiest of months for Muslims - Ramadan
Rising Artist Frank Ocean did something important
14 July, 2012
“We can thank Frank Ocean, not only for making a public statement that sweeps aside shadows and offers young fans another powerfully vulnerable star to admire and emulate, but for reminding us that while proudly declaring an identity can be a politically crucial gesture, often the human heart is not so sure-footed. The process of becoming and unbecoming, loving and losing, is what often makes for the most meaningful art.” - Ann Powers, NPR
Summer Reads 2012
7 July, 2012
Suggested reading list for summer
“Let America Be America Again” by Langston Hughes
4 July, 2012
Happy 4th, America!
“The Busy Trap”
1 July, 2012
“Life is too short to be busy” writes Kreider for the NYTimes
Right to Know Our Food
23 June, 2012
Once again the issue of transparency and trust in our food system arises
F. Scott Fiztgerald had it right
14 June, 2012
Engage in open talks about race with A.C.T.O.R.
9 June, 2012
As the upcoming presidential election nears, we are hearing the usual buzzwords: “economy,” “jobs,” “health care,” but now we are forced to deal with a matter that makes many Americans uncomfortable and fidgety.
Good Samaritans
3 June, 2012
Busboys and Poets’ Tribe donates appliances to recovery center that provides structured housing and recovery services for homeless and addicted people
Pop-Up Cafe at Artomatic
2 June, 2012
Serving vegan and non-vegan items on the first floor of Artomatic, DC’s “biggest creative event” in Crystal City
The NAACP Endorsement and the Struggle for Same-Sex Marriage
28 May, 2012
NAACP approval of same-sex marriage is a small step forward in fulfilling “equality for all”
“A Straight-Out Cowardly Case of Bullying”
26 May, 2012
Rep. Trent Franks (R-Arizona) bill to prohibit D.C. abortions troubles Del. Norton and District residents
Remembering Go-Go’s Godfather
20 May, 2012
The Busboys and Poets tribe send our thoughts and prayers to all the family and friends of the man who built Go-Go from the ground up.
On Censorship by Salman Rushdie
19 May, 2012
No writer ever really wants to talk about censorship. Writers want to talk about creation, and censorship is anti-creation, negative energy, uncreation, the bringing into being of non-being, or, to use Tom Stoppard’s description of death, “the absence of presence.” Censorship is the thing that stops you doing what you want to do, and what writers want to talk about is what they do, not what stops them doing it.
A Langston Hughes Poem for your Pocket
26 April, 2012
Today is “Poem in your Pocket” Day! Pockets aren’t just for loose change and gum, but for poems! Below are four short poems by Langston Hughes for you to choose from to write/print and put in your pocket!
Final Curve
When you turn the corner
And you run into yourself
Then you know that you have turned
All the corners that are left.
Homecoming
I went back in the alley
And I opened up my door.
All her clothes was gone:
She wasn’t home no more.
I pulled back the covers,
I made down the bed.
A whole lot of room
Was the only thing I had.
One
Lonely
As the wind
On the Lincoln
Prairies.
Lonely
As a bottle of licker
On a table
All by itself.
Suicide’s Note
The calm,
Cool face of the river
Asked me for a kiss.
30 for 30: Joseph LMS Green
18 April, 2012
Talk Ugly
by Joseph LMS Green
The last time I saw you alive
I wish I would’ve talked ugly to you
Said “Put the straw down, No,
I don’t want to take another line
I should be writing them, my friend,
You are a composer of music and magic,
Instruct your limbs to serve a purpose greater
than self-indulgence,
Don’t be fooled into thinking your pain
has sharper teeth than anyone else’s,”
I had a chance, but
said nothing
because I was high
This is how I got started;
A bottle of Jack and a mirror, memories and scissors,
dreams drenched in ether, sliced by razors,
Potential rolled like twenty dollar bills,
Poison numbing feelings on the tip of my tongue,
that I and this tongue should be serving a greater purpose.
In a last ditch attempt at self assessment
I looked at my life through eyes of loved ones,
they can see everything, especially the ugly,
From hours of masturbation to years of drug use
To lying with and lying to angels, friends I’ve forsaken,
Taking so much more than I’ve given,
streamlined self-centeredness to a science
But there was also righteousness there
A willingness to craft these ills through poetry and alchemy
Into a seers stone
Honestly, how could I speak ugly to him
When I was yet to speak it to myself
In these nightmares of hindsight
There is no poetry, no alliterations to soften the blow
Some realities have no simile, truth is like truth
Not all suicide is a tragedy; some people
just don’t want to be here anymore,
When you were alone in that room
kept company by narcotics and a thousand ghost
draped in your disappointments
I can only imagine the voices you heard
All but mine
Smear make up onto disgust
if you must, trust, the truth is seldom pretty
But she is always beautiful
In times like these I need you to please
talk ugly to me, because truth splinters bone and pride,
rips through flesh, ego, and sinew in hopes that one day
it will heal together again, stronger
My pain needs not a gentle touch,
too many times we caress sadness
when it needs to be shaken, torn from its place of comfort,
forced to survive or die,
Don’t just tell me I can grow up to be whatever I want,
tell me that whatever I want
better be something I’m willing to achieve, That dreams
will dissipate under the weight of addiction,
that there’s a distinct difference between living
like a rock star and being one,
no matter how many poems you’ve written, sometimes you’re simply a coke-head
and a poser,
Fear not, we are divinely flawed individuals
perfectly ugly, no point hiding behind pretty lies
we are the sum of the hideous scars that hold the remainders
of our pretty pieces together
That last time I saw you alive I wish
I would’ve talked ugly to you
It would’ve be the most beautiful thing
I never said.
30 for 30: Derrick Weston Brown
17 April, 2012
Today’s 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30) poem comes from Derrick Weston Brown, poet and author of Wisdom Teeth. The poem was inspired by the pictured artwork by Michael Singletary, whose artwork is on display at Busboys and Poets 14th & V through the end of May. Derrick also works at the Teaching for Change’s Busboys and Poets Bookstore, so be sure to say hi while you stroll around the restaurant looking at Singletary’s work!
Poem For The Painting above the Men’s Bathroom @ Busboys and Poets 14th & V St NW or “How Lina Reads The Word”
by Derrick Weston Brown
You notice Lina’s legs first.
They’re long slim and
sculpted. Her feet yawn out
to the end of the of the bed spread.
The paint on her toenails
chipped bubblegum pink.
She’s reading the Bible.
Topless. The good book
is small, worn and rusted
hydrant red in her hands.
The gold script on the
cover is a whisper.
It is Sunday.
There’s
a sigh descending in this room.
Her bra is
a sling of lace and straps
and clips resting to her right-
studying war no more.
Lina’s bare knees form
the steeple of her
body church. She leans into the
cool of her brass headboard.
Her breasts rest behind pages
Psalms
kneecaps
the truest brown
lies on the underside
of her thighs amid the
plump push of
her backside into the matress
finally a flash of blue
the embroidered triangle
of panties. Holiest of holies.
A pink room and Lina
with her blackberry dollop
of a mouth. Alone
with the Word.
30 for 30: Joseph Ross
15 April, 2012
Happy National Poetry Month! Today’s 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30) poem comes from Joseph Ross, the featured poet of today’s Sunday Kind of Love, and author of Meeting Bone Man. Twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Ross’ poems appear in many anthologies including Collective Brightness: LGBTIQ Poets on Faith, Religion, & Spirituality, Full Moon on K Street, and Poetic Voices Without Borders 1 and 2. He currently directs the Writing Center at Carroll High School in Washington, D.C.
Sunday Kind of Love is a monthly open mic poetry series that features emerging and established poets from the Washington, D.C. area and around the nation. Presented by Busboys and Poets in partnership with Split This Rock, each program includes featured poet(s) and an open mic segment centered around a predetermined social or poetic theme. Hosted by Sarah Browning and Katy Richey. Sunday Kind of Love is held on the third Sunday of every month at Busboys and Poets 14th & V.
Darfur 1: The Boy
by Joseph Ross
My hands move as slowly
as they have ever moved.
I carefully wrap
the stiff, brown body
of this child,
in a bright orange and blue cloth.
A boy, seven years old,
very old, for here.
Elbows, like crickets’ legs
teeth, luminous white.
The canvas walls of the tent
gasp for air
as the colored cloth
covers his face.
30 for 30: 2Deep the Poetess
13 April, 2012
Happy National Poetry Month! Today’s 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30) poem comes from 2Deep the Poetess, host of tonight’s “11th Hour” Poetry Slam at 14th & V. The “11th Hour” Poetry Slam is presented by Busboys and Poets and is held on the second Friday of every month at Busboys and Poets 14th & V.
Muslim Angel
by 2Deep the Poetess
Rush Hour
Dim light
The sound of the hustle and bustle of destined feet rush by
Head bobbing to the rhythm of modern complacency
Conformed to public transportation etiquette
Confined
Blending
Silenced
Until
Muslim angel,
Because such a thing exists,
Dressed in full, all white garb
Hijab edges outlined in sea-foam blue,
Magnifying her faith 10 times over,
Wonders towards me in a 5th attempt to gain assistance
Previous attempts brushed off by head turns
Flaps of Express newspapers in response to her
Popping like bullets of insults
As headlines of Osama’s demise dangle in her face
As if to say, “Look at what we can do to your kind, here inAmerica”
I saw this
In that moment, I was not proud to be an American
If this was, in fact, the way an American should act
I knew it was not her Farsi trained tongue exercising broken English
That made them ignore her requests
I understood her just fine
“Help me”, sprang from her lips
And translated to comprehension via my eyes
Before I even removed my headphones
I asked if she could repeat herself
“Good Morning”, she said
“Help me, please.
Van Doren.”
Without second thought I took the metro map out of her hand
Took her hand in my other and said, “Follow me.
I will take you.”
A gasp schoolyard bullied its way out of the throat of the Caucasian woman standing next to me
Eavesdropping getting the best of her
My original mission of getting to work on time escaping me
This was bigger than me
Something greater inside of me whispered
“Do not let go of her hand.”
And I obeyed
Seemingly safe within the metal cage
Transporting civilians into the breast of the Confederacy
Older Black woman sang disgust
Like a house nigger gawking
As if I was a field nigger threatening to bring mud into the big house
Exercising her Jim Crow
Removing herself from the front of the car, next to us, to sit elsewhere
Muslim Angel and I stuck out like sore thumbs
Comparison to Freedom Bus rides
We sat front seat at society’s counter
Demanding we be served respect
Express newspaper under my thigh
Feeling guilty for seeking out current events
For today I now knew
I was not proud to be an American
She was I and I was she
And here we sat
Traveling to a place where only one of us knew how to get to
Me to Van Doren
She to a place where she could brave the prejudice and still keep her chin high while seeking help
She needing to know what I knew and vice versa
Yet we sat in silence
Communicating through squeezed palms
Praying to one another for remaining true to who they were
And though she spoke Farsi and I English
We both managed, somehow, to speak human
And we continued to hold on to one another
“Next stop Van Doren”, rang over the intercom
Promised land for her and I
As I walked her out to the platform of her destination
Allah shook God’s hand
Hugged
And said many thanks
All the while I noticed we never said bye
Never shared names
Yet knowing we were sisters just the same
Understanding our coexistence in the midst of those who merely exist
30 for 30: Shanelle Gabriel
11 April, 2012
Happy National Poetry Month! Today’s 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30) poem comes from Shanelle Gabrielle, the featured poet for tonight’s Open Mic Poetry at 5th & K!
30 for 30: Komplex
5 April, 2012
As you know by now, it’s National Poetry Month! Our friends at Poetry.org suggested “30 Ways to Celebrate“, and we’ve got our own way to honor the art, craft and joy of poetry. We call it 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30), and over the course of the month, we’ll be posting one poem a day from community celebrities to poets with enduring legacies.
Today’s Poem of the Day comes from Komplex, the host of Thursday’s (April 5, 2012) Open Mic Poetry at Hyattsville:
nice and unexpected
by Komplex
first date
accident
screeching brakes
eyes closed tight
head on collision
with a kiss
no casualties
child-prodigy performs emergency surgery on very sick teddy sincere inner sense
witness gives thanks
And praise
speeding
stopped
speaking
cop
warning
Twist of fate, garnish of favor and voila!
good news on bad day
good trip around old way
persistent ray of sunshine
i think i can i think i can
climb over this “deeprecession”
her frown turned upside down
an exquisite wedding on a day so gloomy
a good surprise ending to a really bad movie
a private conversation in a crowded room
christmas in june
5 days of warm when the news called for 4
This just in! Abrupt end to pointless war!
big finish slow start
big fish no sharks
ny’s eve, nyc no gunshots
no new year’s day deaths
yet
men
young
black
dressed in black
mothers crying….
graduation
ever seen a star dance?
or heard the song the wind sings
to autumn covered trees
felt the warm kiss of a sunrise
or tasted a midnight ocean breeze?
it’s a little bit different
its a little bit magnificent
there is walking thru a mall
and walking thru a waterfall
skimming the top
and skimming rocks…a little bit different
is there a restaurant or country you’ve always wanted to go to?
someone you feel really ought to know you?
who says you have to wait til new year’s to make a resolution?
what if it’s like october and you’re feeling inspired?
karaoke never killed anyone
but regrets cause cancer
so it’s a bridge….jump off
so it’s a plane…jump out
you only die once
but you have to live every day
don’t knock it til you’ve tried it
twice
just to be sure
it just might be….nice…nice and unexpected
30 for 30: Omni Zona Franca
4 April, 2012
As you know by now, it’s National Poetry Month! Our friends at Poetry.org suggested “30 Ways to Celebrate“, and we’ve got our own way to honor the art, craft and joy of poetry. We call it 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30), and over the course of the month, we’ll be posting one poem a day from community celebrities to poets with enduring legacies.
Today’s Poem of the Day comes from Omni Zona Franca, the featured poet for tonight’s Open Mic Poetry at 5th & K:
What am I doing, what are you doing, what are we doing here where there is nothing to do (walking with a teacher in the interference)
by Omni Zona Franca
To fight for insertion
To prepare the body for insertion
To fight for insertion
To prepare the body for insertion
To fight for insertion
To prepare the body for insertion
“It’s a shame things no longer happen in a way
that only the psychic entity and its state of
flesh and blood have to prepare
to enter the current. No. There are forces organized in matter and beyond that bind it!
the face
of the mechanism:
To fight for insertion
Prepare the body for insertion
To fight for insertion
Prepare the body for insertion
To fight for insertion
Prepare the body for insertion
“Over and over again an enormous illusion
organized and with many faces, slides
between you and your goal, between you and the
only path. The lines of development
point downward once more. The dialectical
as an emerging order has become an order of evil.
All this has been transmitted to your being.
You are an image-carrier marked by evil…!”
¿ ?
Voice
¿ ?
Voice:
“¡¡Sing!!”
We must fight. We must fight. We must fight.
We must fight. We must fight. We must fight.
“The last face is convex
We must fight. We must fight. We must fight.
Very close to the center
two surfaces of insertion!
We must fight. We must fight. We must fight.
For what?!… We must fight. We must fight.
We must fight. We must fight. We must fight.
So these two surfaces cease to exist?!!”
30 for 30: Diana Bùi
3 April, 2012
We loooooove April. Sure, the weather’s a little unpredictable and it’s allergy season for some, but it’s also National Poetry Month! Our friends at Poetry.org suggested “30 Ways to Celebrate“, and we’ve got our own way to honor the art, craft and joy of poetry. We call it 30 for 30 (Twitter hashtag #30for30), and over the course of the month, we’ll be posting one poem a day from community celebrities to poets with enduring legacies. Granted, we’re two days behind, but consider the Arabian proverb:
“All mankind is divided into three classes: Those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move.”
So here we are, movin’, with our a-little-belated-selves. Today’s Poem of the Day comes from Diana Bùi, the featured poet at 14th & V for Tuesday, April 3, 2012:
This is my erotic
by Diana Bùi
Queer is my sacred
unwavering boundless self
This is my erotic
Erotic is my own
it is the thoughts of climatic touch
The primal innate lust
The tongue of pleasurable radiating communication
between another and self
The love that transforms the sexual into sensual
all over mind, body, and soul
The foreplay of accepting embrace
into mind-blowing all encompassing passionate
orgasms.
I would love to have orgasms
as my political power to my identity
In question
How many times have I’ve been ambushed by
self-righteous militants of homophobia
Invading my queer with fear’s artillery
Waging war on my sex
when my sex is necessary
when this is who I am
Queer is standing right here.
