A couple of months back, I hosted a poetry open mic at a library! I didn’t get a chance to meet LindoYes in person, but he was in attendance for the featured performers. I remember screaming at my phone in excitement when he followed me and again when he asked to be on the podcast! (I have no shame, besides the whole point is for me to be honest). It was really such a joy and honor to have him on Micro Musings! Enjoy learning about LindoYes, his journey with poetry, and his upcoming book Pawnshop.
About LindoYes
LindoYes is a spoken word artist, creator of LindoYes! clothing line, and an event host who was born and raised in Uptown Philadelphia, PA. He is an unapologetically Black fusion of theatrical poetics and visual art whose work addresses the constructs of love, masculinity and social injustice. Lindo’s work has led him to opportunities across the east coast from appearing on Def Poetry Jam to featuring at various colleges such as Bucknell University, Haverford College, Drexel University, Lincoln University, and UPENN as well as venues including Busboys and Poets, SpitDat, The Drunken Retort, Urban Grind, Apache Cafe and Do You Lyrics Lounge just to name a few. Lindo is also the recipient of the 2023 Color of Change Jackie Robinson Award, the 2023 "Change Maker" award by Uptown Standards and nominated for the 2024 “Social Impact" award by Voices In Power. His work has been featured in Philadelphia Weekly, the WACO Theater Black History Celebration, WHYY and on the well-known poetry YouTube channel, Button Poetry.
In the past LindoYes has worked as a member of the organizational team for a local Philadelphia open mic, Pecola Breedlove and the Freedom Party, and has served as the lead facilitator and visionary behind the WildSeed poetry series. Throughout the years he’s taken his experience as a facilitator and brought it to the classroom. Now serving as a teaching artist for multiple non-profit organizations, LindoYes builds curriculum to help youth express themselves through creative writing, visual arts and performing arts centered around social activism and personal development. Lindo also does consulting work for poets and artprenuers in the Philadelphia area.
The full poem transcript is unavailable, I encourage you to pre-order Pawnshop.
Depression is a bullet with no name, And I've been held at gunpoint. Joy stolen from my being, Been left on the ground, bleeding, Feeling weak, more weak than they are in a year, Feeling too weak, fourteen days. This is more than a phase or a cry for help, or playing the victim in the people court They judged me, innocent, but yet I feel guilty for the cause and effect that allow me Still in this moment, mannequin, man, I can't get myself off the positions They put me in. Let me bring you in to the crime scene. The irony of sadness looking trigger happy, aiming at me. And depression is a bullet with no name or no trigger warning. Bang, bang, shots out my window, shots out my window. And all I heard was bang. Next day, word on the street is Cupid is a G. He traded in all his bows and arrows for guns and bullets. Oh, man. He'll never get me. I mean, never, never will he get me. As soon as I said that, I found myself walking down Broad Street with a tap on my shoulder. And guess who it be? Now I'm fiercely pointing at my head. I heard him say, "Yo, where your heart at? Where that at? at man yo yo yo yo stop being slow about it yo stop acting like you need I'm about to bang on you here right now are you trying to" I pat and grabbed my chest realizing that it's not even there As he snatched it off my sleeve walking away as coolly as he came... Bang, bang. Slowly killed me with love. Bang, bang. I apparently grabbed my chest, screaming out, Love hurts, love hurts. He smoothly gets out his car when it's not clutched tightly over my body. And he says, yeah, that's right, love hurts. Love hurts like that heartbreak you left her with, but don't even worry about that. I gave her your heart so she can finally say she has it. Bang, bang, bang. Those are the last thoughts ringing in my head as I now find myself in a hospital bed. Blood leaking out my chest. I'm screaming out to the doctor. Love hurts. Love hurts. The doctor operates to take out every single one of those shots. The feel that I have no pulse, but yet a heartbeat as long as I love live. And that day, I mean that very day, I realized Cupid is a G.
Journal Prompt: When have you felt targeted by something you couldn’t name or control? Write about that experience.
Journal Prompt: What does emotional exhaustion feel like in your body? How long did you carry it before someone noticed—or didn’t?
Poetry Prompt: Write a poem where depression is a weapon. What kind? Who’s holding it? Are you dodging, defending, or already hit?
Poetry Prompt: Write a poem titled “The Day My Heart Got Stolen.” Personify your heart. Where was it? Who took it? What did they leave behind?
Writing Prompt: Write a dialogue between you and your depression. What does it want from you? What do you say back?
Writing Prompt: Reimagine Cupid as a misunderstood villain. He’s done with love and shoots people with truth or trauma instead. What made him change? How does he explain himself?
Share this post