Next Man Up, Poetry in Motion

Wesley Knight 0:00
This is a KU NV studios original program. The content of this program does not reflect the views or opinions of 91.5 jazz and more the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, or the Board of Regents of the Nevada System of Higher Education.

Donavan LeDean 0:14
Here we go. Here we go. Move it. Move it. Move it.

Donavan LeDean 0:22
The next man up.

Donavan LeDean 0:40
Hello and welcome to the show. I'm your host. Donna Billy Dean, actor, author and inspirational rhythmic poet, you now tune in to next man up, poetry in motion, where the mission is to promote good mental health for everyone. This poetry show will motivate, educate and inspire you with spoken word through cultural expression. We have a special guest today, Jessica Jess Flo Washington, who is a Las Vegas based poet, community leader, owner of Vegas valley balloons and the founder of the growing Vegas valley entertainment brand, building ventures rooted in joy, storytelling and community connection, her impact has earned major recognition, including a city of Las Vegas proclamation naming may 18, just flow day the Las Vegas African American Trailblazer Award and the station casinos Frank Fertitta award as a proud autism mom and advocate. She leads community initiatives, youth collaborations, and is launching her nonprofit I am autism. Jessica also curates spoken word experiences, connecting Chicago, Houston and Las Vegas. Just flow queen. Thank you for being here.

Jessica Washington 1:47
Thank you so much for having me. That was a great intro.

Donavan LeDean 1:51
You the second person that told me that I appreciate it. I'm humbled had the pleasure of seeing you perform poetry on stage in the Las Vegas Valley, speaking your truth, telling people stories as well as your own. What inspired you to pick up the pen, writing and performing poetry?

Jessica Washington 2:10
So growing up like growing up in Chicago, like I said, That's inspiration in itself. My mother was a big autism not autism advocate. She was a big advocate for the community. She would go around calling herself a GD, which we know in Chicago is not a good thing, but for her, it means God's disciples will be like mom. You can't go around saying that. But she would move us into the worst neighborhoods, and no matter how bad they were, she would go into those neighborhoods, she would clean up. And I just always felt like I wanted to have a voice. I wanted to have a say, and so I started writing poetry, and it was it was an outlet. It gave me an opportunity to speak my truth.

Donavan LeDean 2:49
You're a mother, an autism advocate, raising a son who has autism and autism. It hits personal for you, yes, and our platform is dedicated to mental health. Talk about your journey and experience as a mother raising an autistic

Jessica Washington 3:04
child, I would just first say, it's not easy. There was a lot of times I felt isolated as an as an autism mom, you know, in our community, there's a lot of stigma around mental health. And I would just say that I've learned a lot. I've learned a lot of patience. I've learned that self care is very important when raising an autistic child. And your first go to is so much. It's so much. And the first go to is, I would say, find your community, find other autism moms. That's where you're going to learn. That's where you're going to get your support. It can be very isolating, but there are other moms out there that's going through what you're going through.

Donavan LeDean 3:42
Have you got a chance to actually sit down with other autistic Well, mothers who are, who have, who are raising autistic children?

Jessica Washington 3:52
He said, Have I had the opportunity? Yeah, yes. So I started my organization called I Am autism, and the whole focus behind that was the parents come first. Like, we have to think about our mental health first for us to be there for our children. So a lot of my activities was always based around mothers and their mental health. I held autism on retreat here in Las Vegas, where we actually had moms come in from other states. And the whole weekend was about mental health, yoga and things like that, because that's important. Like, I can't be a mother to my child if my mental health is not right. And the first thing I said when I learned my child was autistic and I read the statistics, was like, I won't let autism take over my life. I know some people may not see it that way, but I can't be a mother to him if I'm drained, if you know. So I always say, I got to put myself first so I can then put autism be there for him,

Donavan LeDean 4:41
most definitely, considering the mental health crisis here in the States and abroad, how significant is poetry within today's social climate? It's a lot going on, especially in the States alone, especially under this administration,

Jessica Washington 4:53
I think poetry is very significant in today's emotional climate. It creates. Community. It creates connection. And people need that. People need a sense of belonging. Just since we've started with, since I've got back on the scene here in Las Vegas, and we're creating that sense of community, people come out, they say they need it, especially here in Las Vegas, because we know a lot of us are transplants, and we don't have family, and it's isolating, and times are hard, you know. So I think poetry is very needed. It creates accountability. It's storytelling. It gives people the opportunity to tell their story, to speak their piece, to let their voice be heard. And a lot of times that's what that's all we need. We need to be heard. So poetry is very important.

Donavan LeDean 5:36
And where can people find you, your businesses, your events, services within a community.

Jessica Washington 5:41
So if it's poetry related, you can find me on Instagram at B, G, I inspire. So it's black girls Inspire. Or you can type, type in, just flow, j, e, s, s, f, l, o, no, W, business related is everything is Vegas valley. So that'll be Vegas valley balloons, Vegas valley lemonade, Vegas valley charcuterie, and then I am autism would be my other organism, my um, I am autism.org.

Donavan LeDean 6:08
Okay, yes, before I let you go, I would like you to share a poem for us.

Jessica Washington 6:12
You ready? Oh, let me get ready.

Donavan LeDean 6:15
Okay, queen, talk to him. Okay.

Jessica Washington 6:18
I don't clock in. I lock in, tapped into frequencies. Most folks don't even notice I'm bilingual in meltdown plus motion, fluent in silence and devotion. They see tantrum. I see sensory overload. They see picky eater. I see protecting peace from chaos on the plate. They see nonverbal I see a universe of thoughts The world ain't even earn the privilege to translate. They try to speak for him instead of letting him speak as him, they assume silence means confused like I choose words for him. Stop seeing disability. Start seeing possibilities. Autism isn't a misprint. It's a difference brilliance. I'm the translator, interpreter, advocate, navigator, therapist, teacher, researcher, educator, appointments on calendars. Patience and stamina, balancing meltdowns, holding space, holding stamina. IEP meetings, where they judge what he's lacking while I subtract their assumptions and multiply backing, proving daily that growth ain't measured in talking. Some babies speak words. Mind speaks energy when they walking. His silence ain't empty. It's full, full of galaxies and meaning, full of brilliance. They keep missing, full of everything. They don't need permission. They label my baby. Don't label my fight. Don't label the journey. When you can't handle the light. The ancestors didn't sign us to be easy. He assigned us to be legendary. Believe me, thank y'all phenomenal.

Donavan LeDean 7:31
Just flow. Thank you for your time. You're welcome. The poets that will be featured on our playlist today are the unknown. Otis, Rachel, davera, Tariq Moore, Donna, Billy Dee, Liz, Prince, Stefan, Pettway, Sheldon, Alex Sebastian, Jenny you Dean, Jonathan rice, blessing, Zachary, Gutierrez and Gabby Moreno. Now let's get on with the show. This is next man up. Poetry in motion. Here we go. Here we go. Next man up. You

Speaker 3 8:05
that girl from way back south, she got me southern dreaming thick and creamy, fine, brown, sweetest minds, best pies. That girl from way back south, she got me southern dreaming Brown. She ain't baiting my soul. She prances through the fields of the magnolias. She's flawing them thick curves as a groove of slow rhythm, compelled by Melody a hummingbird. Country Girl with striking for zoo sex appeal, never discreet. Guitar plays celebrating her beauty with Southern ribs beef dream. It.

Speaker 3 8:46
Human, moist from the Gulf, moisture, skin, sexy, something a product of the bayou so fierce she make them knees buckle. She's delectable, like cornbread, oxen that Southern cuisine, such a treat like the Louisiana crawfish on my feet. This dream feels so real. She got the remedy.

Speaker 4 9:07
This dream feels so real. She's the one for me.

Speaker 3 9:11
Affection runs deep, like OGS for classic and powers and Cadillacs. No what she advertises is faster. She got that fire hot. Sauce with intellect, that Southern swagger, the culture stretches Wilder. No mosquito creeps and swamps. Nothing else matters. We destroy your peach. Southern victim with hospitality. She got that good, good, a seduction too good to be reality, man, look at how she moving. Shout. Chop chopper got

Unknown Speaker 9:45
my mind. This is ecstasy. I close my eyes. Don't wake me up.

Speaker 3 9:54
She's vivacious, like family cookout those Friday afternoons, two step R and B, eating mine. So. Food, natural beauty. She wasn't natural for nourseki and a natural glow. So natural is queen. She calls me King. Can let this one go. I'm good. She's the one for me.

Speaker 5 10:14
Next man up the parachute, release. I returned to the land below with something new to give but nothing new to see. It feels swell to return sturdy land in two feet, but it doesn't feel fine. What is wrong with me? I guess I'd rather spend time up high with the clouds in the sky than among the rest of us, where I'm from, which I came, where I went, where I've been, how it feels like better off? Is it wrong? If it is, prepare the ship. I'm going back. I'm going back.

Speaker 6 10:55
I am a Filipina, brown sugar, skin, almond eyed, sight. Voice, deep, resilient and full of fight. I am a Filipina. Vocals like Whitney and Aretha, singing knees to the ground as I hum heavenly sounds. I am a Filipina. I eat with my hands dried rice on my shirt. Don't matter, because when I flirt, I am a Filipina. Wrote two pcns, twirling candles around my palms, dancing to nickling while keeping calm. I am a Filipina. Got a sister that's a nurse. She survived covid, 19 at its worst. I am a Filipina watching corrupt legal crimes, my bloodline dancing on picket lines. I am a Filipina, Ruby Ibarra wraps and serenades, inspiring an era of rebelling renegades. I am a Vegas Filipina, DJ, E, rock, B, Sting and P, dot, rocking these streets their sets never flop. A Vegas Filipina follow the lights to California Hotel. If you know, you know that ox tail real well, a Vegas Filipina making something out of nothing, making space for all human race to come together, fly, birds of a feather. Humanity, in our voices and our choices, are clever. I am a Filipina, American. Immigrate. No hate spreading poetically, penai words, that's my fate. I am a Filipina. What are you

Unknown Speaker 12:30
next? Man up. I would like for you to share a poem for us. Yes. Jeannie queen, talk to them. Okay.

Jenny Uddin 12:40
This poem is called, What is poetry? What is poetry but the act of running back and forth through the most traumatic moments of our lives while hovering above them in Eagle Eye View, trying to understand so we write, we take those moments, dress them up in the right emotions, sit for hours in hidden chambers music vibrating through us until intimacy blooms and the source speaks louder. What is poetry? Is it the desperate reach for peace pushing through so the feelings never claw their way back again? Or is it the mind replaying, rewinding, choosing the best scenario, hoping we can rewrite reality? Is poetry a kind of self gaslighting, convincing ourselves that the way we saw it, the way we felt it wasn't distorted, convincing others we love I am not delusional. What I lived was real, what I felt was true. What is poetry? Is it not this endless act of holding memory and meaning until they burn into words and we set ourselves

Unknown Speaker 13:38
free? Here we go. Here we go next man up.

Speaker 7 13:43
Be delusional. Be delusional like skyscrapers dreaming they can scrape the sky like rivers, thinking they can drown the tide like seeds in the cracks of sidewalks that believe they'll become forests despite the concrete lies. Be so bold that logic takes a back seat, like shoes with no souls, still running these streets like hunger, gnawing at the bones of defeat, but still feasting on the thought that destiny can taste sweet. They'll call you crazy. Say you're building castles on quicksand, say you're chasing shadows with open hands, but tell them the moon only lights up the night because it's stubborn enough to steal the sun's spotlight. Be delusional, like poets who think words can change the world laugh in the face of practicality, like fireflies flirting with eternity, like gravity trying to hold down the wings to the ground, but the wings just laugh and keep on flapping around like hope, screaming louder than doubt, like fear knocked out by a dream too stubborn to sit down be delusional like stars that refuse to fall like so. Is training in snow, sleet, rain, because they're too insane to believe that obstacles means stop. Speak your visions out loud, like prophets with no followers, but stories got endless crowds. They'll say it's impossible, but impossibility is just a dare thrown down by reality to see if you'll care, to see if you'll fold or fight. So be delusional. Be the Phoenix before the flame, the lion before the roar, the champion, even when bruised and sore, be the impossible, the improbable, the reckless soul who broke through the mold just to prove that some stories can't be

Unknown Speaker 15:49
controlled. Next man up

Speaker 8 15:52
passionate women who knew spiritual things, wrap me up in your arms and bathe me in oils, clean me quick, before I spoil, pour in, ring out, remake me whole. I needed this. I'd be remiss if I didn't embrace the legacy laid before me. If I threw away the crown and renounced the royalty passionate women who knew spiritual things, pray for me, please, if you may, if you might, speak life into me with my arms spread wide and my head held high, I call out, save me. Passionate women who know spiritual things, I'm sorry they mistake your passion for anger. I'm sorry they criminalize your expression of anger. And I'm so so sorry. There's so freaking much to be so angry about, and you never receive the same tenderness as your crocodile crying counterparts. You women who are mother, father, sister and aunt, who carry the weight of every mistake made by the women before you, by the men who disappeared, by the boys who hurt you, and by the other girls with the same heavy weight, sad eyes and loud burdens, passionate women who know spiritual things. I'm so sorry we ask so much of you. I'm so so sorry you give more than you receive, and I'm so very sorry you only get the scraps of the world to make do with, only to have it stolen by women of passion and spirit, I love you and I will sing of your praises and give you your flowers while their scent is still fresh and I can still see the glimmer in your eyes, because at the very least, you deserve the world as you are. What keeps it turning my women of passion, thank you.

Unknown Speaker 17:43
Next man up, Dave this

Unknown Speaker 17:45
last one I want to read is called naked. I feel this one in my heart as I read it.

Speaker 9 17:53
Do I deserve to be loved? Sometimes I feel my heart drop. It goes so low I feel empty. My chest feels light, my body feels heavy, my soul feels alone, not needed, not wanted, not loved, just alone. I've got love to give yet there's no one to receive. Instead, I lay here naked with my heart on my sleeve. I've got love to give, yet there's no one to receive. I lay here naked with my heart on my sleeve. Thank you so much. Next man up. This poem is titled wounded bird.

Speaker 10 18:39
I've been wounded. I've been cured, I've been healed, I've been hurt, I've been blessed, I've been cursed, I've been better, I've been worse. Life's a balance with birth, putting my trust in the universe, even when the odds are against me, I still come up first, let go of my ego and left it all to Mother Earth. I always had my faith. I didn't need a church. Even at my lowest, I knew eventually it would be my turn. Not the most patient, but I'm always putting in the work. I always got pure intentions and keep my word. I sought help when my anxiety and grief collided, my trauma and pride tried fighting. This girl's journey is like deep diving, uncovering new depths to my soul. Sometimes it feels tiring. Self seeking is not for the faint of heart. It's facing your pain head on. Never been a victim, been both Aladdin and Jafar. This journey has left me with scars. Without my art, I wouldn't have made it this far. Learn to protect my energy, because I got a big heart. Let others deplete me in the past. Now I'm in charge. Now I keep myself on guard. Stay sharp. Lately, I've been more in tune with the science. The other day, I looked into an injured bird's eyes. Could see its fear and resilience. It wasn't ready to die. Realized how many times I didn't give up the fight reminded me of how many times I've fallen, but took it as a lesson, how many times I've been betrayed. But it was a blessing. Mother Nature telling me great things are ahead, even though life's a challenge, this is my rebirth. You're about to witness the ascension of a savage you.

Donavan LeDean 20:00
Here we go. Here we go. Next man up.

Speaker 11 20:04
Good morning. Another day, another chance, another life, another loss, deep and black thought, trying to get to the roots of a cause, because The Fault in Our Stars will crumble us until we fall. Just trying, trying, trying, and trying to figure out how we take a journey from one end to the other, navigating life's contract, not paying attention to the claws. Oh, the claws. There's so many claws, so much pressure, so much building inside of me that I just want to jump out of my skin. Where do we go from here, what did we mean to each other? Were we family undercover or in a past life where we star struck lovers to one another, but to see you, to see you, made me feel new, to experience you when I was feeling so blue and when you would show up for me, that's why I messed with you, because you were the living proof that everything could be all right. But I misused that truth, and I projected my pity and my insecurities onto you, and that is why you were no longer here with me. I just I want another chance. I just want another chance to hold your hand. I just want to hang out with you in the school dance. I just want to please I'm sorry Miss Jackson, forget what happened. Then just let me live again. But I will carry you on with me. And you did one thing, you spared me of this cause, and you gave me back what I lost, which is time, conversations, moments, dignity, respect, and most importantly, another good morning.

Donavan LeDean 21:57
Here we go. Here we go. Next man up

Speaker 4 22:00
at 14, a friend heard me read love poetry about a heart and need. You see at the time, his heart was at a loss to breathe because in his mind was the right thought to proceed, but still in my lines. And then offered him off to she wait. He told me,

Speaker 12 22:20
No suicide to my heart and knees, she's alive because you're a pump

Unknown Speaker 22:24
relief. So

Speaker 13 22:27
got right, all right. Got right

Speaker 4 22:30
because once upon a time, I was a lost body. These teenage veins ran trains of painful speech until my 12th grade English teacher taught me how to tame the beast. She gave me a pen and pad with a task after class, and said, Here's your chain and leash. Go release those highs and lows and in betweens, and then you'll see all your pain put at ease.

Speaker 13 22:58
So all right, all right. All right.

Speaker 4 23:02
Alright, because my right fist represents the cut wrist and hand slipped over 1,000,001 slaves forced off hard ships, their privilege to write and read was stripped. So I write and read everything for everyone missed, because without them, I wouldn't exist.

Speaker 13 23:22
So, all right, all right, all right, because

Speaker 4 23:27
I'm from East Oakland, the bay. Hey, bruh, where the murder rate stays at a constant pace. Bruh, that someone killed nearly every other day. Bruh, man, my birthplace is a hurt ache, painted walls crafting a madness, though all we gather in sadness to believe they did everything differently when in fact, it didn't change. Bruh, so

Speaker 13 23:52
All right, all right, all right, because

Speaker 4 23:57
the moment of release I received from completing the written piece is similar to taking a dump after it's been about a week, but not like a sense of relief in the beliefs that 9% of the globe goes to sleep with nothing to eat no relief when firefighters, teachers, doctors, police, earn less than entertainers and athletes. No relief when more blacks and browns and jails than excelling in college, no relief when the wealth is health while the ignorant and just fake knowledge.

Speaker 13 24:37
So all right, all right, right,

Speaker 4 24:41
because I I don't know how to write right when what's left becomes right, then death strikes, and I'm left to write about the loss of life. Yet if I didn't write, I'd have lost my life to suicide. So who am I to choose? Size? And cross lines. Do or die? Why do I recite lines like an Albert can move tight the meaning of life is whatever reason you have got to kill yourself. Do I write for self as a cry for help? Do I write tasty trash for massive shells? Do I write for release from the beast deeply held? Do I write for the kid who doesn't fit in with no one else? So I write. I write. Why write? Why write

Speaker 14 25:32
next man up, Helen Jerome, one at sea. Can I achieve hope all by myself when I'm far off, almost lost in causing waves, in crossing waves, almost lost when I'm far off all by myself. Can I achieve hope?

Speaker 14 26:04
Oh, next man up, Dave,

Acamea Deadwiler 26:09
coexisting in many realms of thought, a walk in prayer, meditation, I can't evade frequencies. I can't explain speak to me in wisdom's name. I've been on that resonance before they coined it. Schumann's Babylon. Can't control me. I broke out the show like I was Truman, the human. Programmed analytics can't measure the spirit, thus they can't fully study us at this point, disappearing, know thyself, mental, physical and etheric lyrics. Tap into your central node, to the soul. You can feel it. Sit in the sun. Download codes. I can hear them. There's a natural mystic flowing on Mother Nature's bio rhythm. Get on beat. Connect with every single living organism, like ancestors before these evil ways of the system walking the less traveled road I and I have seen many visions, many nights, sitting still, yet still I listen. Guidance enters the vessel with pure precision, a choice to make daily. Why do we wrestle right decisions, tussling with the test illusions carrying us away from the way we already know what's best. Come back home, beloved. You no longer have to beat an eagle's chest. Perch inside like an eagle in its nest. Followers Cliff dive into the next trend since the you always been taking heed to the riddles the elders were testing. Now I'm years ahead with good investments. Just bump my head a little less than nonetheless, an imperfect perfection, a walk in prayer, avid meditator, realms of thought between each I'm a mediator, a metaphor of sorts, seeing obstacles as sport I must master Slow and steady wins the race. I learned that in the beginning chapters of a book without middle or end, life goes on again and again. I write on and on with my mind as my ink and my soul as my

Donavan LeDean 28:29
before we go, I would like to conclude with a power message. It's a message about making the attempt take the road less traveled. It can be scary at first, because it's something new yet mysterious. You got nothing to lose. You're stagnant in the place you're in now. Failure doesn't occur from the attempt itself. It occurs from not making the attempt at all make that change. Thanks for tuning in to next man up. Poetry in motion. I am your host, Donna Billy Dee. To see my inspirational and poetry reels. You can go to YouTube at Donna village. Also, you can find my poetry books, children's books and coloring books on Amazon under my name, donnavilly D for actor or poet bookings. You can contact me via email, DV media, one zero@gmail.com Special, thanks to my guest, Jess Flo for stopping by on discussing poetry, mental health and her autism advocacy mission, huge. Thanks goes out to donor Stuart J Elsie, whose contribution allows you our listeners to listen to more frequent radio programming. I am Donna Valley D actor, author and inspirational rhythmic poets until next time. Peace. Dave. Dave.

Transcribed by https://otter.ai