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When spoken word goes to print….. You Can Catch These Hands

katrina-Sapp-HolderWhen spoken word goes to print….. You Can Catch These Hands

By Katrina Jo, I am Poettis

I am unapologetically

Christian But you can catch these hands


Freely I love

Freely I live

Freely I give

Feeling free to flip over tables like Jesus

When things are beyond out of order


I will not sit idly by

While people are abused in the name of love

Used up in the name of progress

Looked over under a covering of shade from a heat source

Hotter than the sun in late July in Florida


See I’m a Christian

But you can still catch these hands


I’m not demanding your respect

I’m refusing your refuse

I’m not asking for your acceptance

I’m accepting the fact that every brown candy bar isn’t filled with chocolate

Some bars are with nuts

I’m allergic to nuts


I’m calling forth my inner lunatic

Faith filled chick

She gets the job done

Runs on the fumes of the Holy Spirit

God’s voice she can hear it

And she’s not afraid to offend your traditional mindsets,

Shackles and strong holds

That you hold dear


Because dear

That’s the way we’ve always done it

Well ma’am that’s why we always find ourselves in the midst of it

Leaving IT unchecked

Till it’s too thick to be


Managed by one protest

One method of reclamation

There’s more than one way to skin a cat

One way to do more than just survive in America while being Black


You can catch these hands clasped together in prayer

Raised high in praise

While serving up metaphorical wisdom

Resembling the bars Jay Z used to drop

When he was hot

Before he tried to be Jehovah

And his queen had to cool him off with lemonade

Because the juice he was drinking couldn’t sustain him


You can catch these hands

Thumping vociferously over keyboards

Creating swords

For the destruction of ignorance’s grandchildren

Ignorance got a grandchild called modern propaganda

Wears a mask of a character called main stream news media

They say heads being busted by racism to the white meat of ya

Are a hoax like aliens flying low on white meteors

Wait, some of y’all low-key believe

So my mind won’t be meeting you


You can catch these hands

Thrown lovingly from Sistrunk

Product of the 33311

Holding on and refusing to let go of my Community

Sharing light in dark places perpetuating a mutiny

Of the spirit of my people


Waving them forward

Like a scout on the battle field

I don’t spout randomness

My brothers and sisters can’t feel

If I speak it

I’m prepared to back up

So you step to me bout my mine



I will tune you up


Cause I’m a Christian

But you can still catch these hands.

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