Adina Mardenborough
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When not at her day job of running a private massage therapy practice, in Mt Vernon, NY, Adina Mardenborough is a socio-political poet. She uses her works to give voice to the voiceless, as well as social commentary on global issues. Her works include, but are not limited to, topics such as American teenage pregnancy and the conflict diamond trade in Africa. After performing, she¹s often asked if she¹s a teacher since many of her works deal with education. To this she replies that "teaching is the responsibility of anyone who has knowledge to share".
Adina is a member of the Boston-Lizard Lounge 2004 and 2005 National Slam Teams which compete each year at the National Poetry Slam. Somewhere between poetry open mikes and slam venues, Adina is also a performance poet with William Johnson¹s improvisational dance and musical works, Hoofin' 2 Hittin' and Drumadics.
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I Wonder If I Could Write A Love Poem
I wonder if I could write a love poem
Now, I know I could write a
Love undone, everything's gone wrong poem
Cause I've been there before, too many times
Paid for other women's crimes
Shoot- forget a poem, I've got 60 novels
Written on that shit, Hardcover only
But now I wonder if I could write a love poem
ëCause in these last few months
I've relearned how to smile and
I'm even willing to hold your hand in public
ëCause I'm embracing your style
And I'm thinking you could be my muse
'Cause you tickle my fancy and keep me amused
So I wonder if I could write a love poem
I'm finding I can't listen to the
Queen of Soul sing the Evil Gal Blues
ëCause my heart's getting out of tune
With sad un-love songs, and
That was my favorite musical genre
So I wonder if I could write a love poem
Now I'm not talking ëbout one of those
ìI love the way you sex me babyî poems
I'm talking ëbout one of those
I love the way your smile
Makes love to yesterday's wounds
Hoping tomorrows look just like today poems
So I wonder if I could write a love poem
Lately I've been walking on Cloud Eleven
4 steps up from Seventh Heaven
And I didn't know I could breathe up here
I get sort of light headed in the ease of your stare
Like red, red wine goes to my head
But I'm trying to not be over indulgent so I'm taking you in slow
Wondering if I can write a love poem
It's Morning in America
It's Morning in America
Where you can wake to false hope
False dreams of your babies making it
The sun shines on American shores
Where summer heat leaves a world
Mourning in America
No mother, we don't need your son's uniform
We keep them in stock at the hangar
For the ones on their way home in boxes
Covered with flags that didn't
Shield them from government idiocy
Middle America you'll learn to survive without them
It's Morning in America
Where you can wake to false hope
False advertisements of achieving the American dream
Visions of sugar plums dance in your head
Or maybe just a living wage, if you can imagine
Get an early start cause by noon your feet should be sore
From the last 3 years of pounding the pavement
Wishing for Opportunity to at least crack open any door
Since he's been too preoccupied to knock on yours
It's Morning in America
Let the smell of pancakes, eggs and bacon
Reach your nose to tell you to
Take tonight's dinner steak off your eye
The children have made breakfast so
Bring your ass to the table before
He remembers where he left off last night
Taking out frustrations of male inadequacy
Leaving you with black and blue rouge
Blood Red is the color of the lipstick
You'll wear to the office this morning
It's Morning in America
But the day rages on
Sun-downing will make you forget
Reaganomics and the onslaught of
Crack vials at your front door
See, those were the good old days
As the sun begins to set
Government Star Wars programs
Play Jedi mind tricks on you
And we've never been back to the moon
Because it really is made of cheese
And we're not handing out cheese anymore
So ingest all the 99 cent cola
Your WIC stamps can buy
Because a gallon of milk cost almost $5
Hush.
Somewhere off in the distance
The muffled sound of thousands of scurrying feet
The twilight shields shadows lurking out
From street corners, homes and businesses
The earth quakes silently beneath your feet as
Underground movements give renewed meaning to
Grass roots in your less than perfect
Garden of Eden overrun with snakes
In the night hour
Street lamps highlight decoy
Revolutionaries that keep spinning their wheels
Meanwhile Resolutionaries work in
Hushed tones, silent steps
Burrowing through the Collier's Mansion chaos
With broad strokes, open arms and perseverance
Hush
If you listen closely
You can here them chanting in the distance
Tomorrow is coming
Tomorrow is coming
Tomorrow is coming
When we wake to a new dawn
Thinking About Sex
I'm thinking about sex
Yes, that's what I said
I am thinking about sex
Yes, of course I know I'm a woman
May I continue?
I'm not only thinking about sex
I'm thinking about having sex
I'm thinking about not having sex
I'm thinking about why I'm not having sex
I'm thinking about why I should be having sex
I'm thinking about what I like when I do have sex
I'm thinking about what I don't like when I do have sex
I'm thinking about what I like about not having sex
I'm thinking about what I don't like about not having sex
I'm thinking about...
No! I don't think it's pretentious of me
To be saying or thinking such things
Yes! I said before I know that I am a woman
DO YOU?
That's precisely why I'm thinking about sex
Damn, now you've ruined it!
I'm now thinking about why you're thinking about meÖ
Thinking about sex