“Birds don’t make a plan to migrate, raising resources to fund their way, packing for scarce times, mapping out their pit stops. They feel a call in their bodies that they must go, and they follow it, responding to each other, each bringing their adaptations.” —adrienne maree brown
Brittany King (Bk) is a Poet, Playwright, Actor, and Community Organizer living in Miami, FL USA. A native of South Florida, her work lies at the intersection of ‘Artivism’ which fuses art, storytelling, and activism into work that challenges and moves communities to stand in solidarity with those agitating for a more just, freer world. She aims to shift the harmful narratives that are often painted about her communities, by exploring different ways to view and interact with one another. Through the cultivation of music, poetry, art, storytelling, and theatre, Bk is transforming her world one story at a time.
TAP Work:
“Since joining the TAP cohort, I’ve been in community with artists across the nation. We’ve figured out ways to integrate theatre into our online spaces, and have started to collaborate and create curriculum that is youth-centered and interactive, perfect for teaching during a pandemic.”
Most Memorable TAP Moment:
“I really enjoyed when we got into non-traditional art practices, it reminded me that more often than not we have everything we need to succeed nearby and readily available, gonna try making paint with blueberries more often!”
Find out more about Bk here:
“Soul Eyes”
To feel his gaze
ignites a fire under my belly
within confines of attraction
I find myself envisioning a life never lived
a love never given
an intimacy unknown
You look to me and I feel like a girl again
playing hide and seek in the park
just to find you
to be alone
under our favorite tree
This feeling like magic
my body like glitter
is whipped matter formed
by the weight of his being
Quiet as kept I hold no fear
I know him
his heart calls to me
something deep inside me
slowly silently answers
as we yearn for nearness
for closeness
for touch
whenever your gaze is embraced
a memory replays
a timeline of a life yet to be lived
A life yet to be explored
you give me next lifetime vibes
when we lock eyes
each time
I’m reminded
we’ve existed in
spaces and time
on another plane
I see in your eyes dances of our souls between galaxies
This love be universal as it flows over around and through us
Our ancestors played upon lavender scented purple-gold fields
Our hearts danced a paso doble
on the dark side of
a melancholy blue moon
Our children laugh and play between your scalp
and the grooves of my fingertips
I get lost in these memories when you look at me.
Your presence is familiar
Your voice is similar
Your eyes
I have always remembered
and yet
I have never truly looked
I have never truly touched
I have never truly known
the crease of your smile
the hum of your lips
the vibration of the energy between us
speaking to me in syncopated rhythms
in uncontained heat that dances
between our ephemeral bodies
speaking to me
the soul in your eyes
“Cuba Libre: A Fortnight”
Have you ever felt freedom in your bones?
I’m talking late night
Early morning joneses
bright light
small city
rooster crows
Bienvenidos
Yallah
Mis Amores
freedom love jones
That let’s make love in the club and I don’t care who sees
kiss me til my lips hurt
shh don’t tell
secret glances
ignited memories
type of bliss
Does your revolution sing?
Afro-cubano
Celia
Reggaeton
I never wanna let you go
kiss me hold me love on me
til I can’t let go like I can’t let you go
You dance like
a Cubano Afro-princess
Are you from the Caribbean?
You move like this land
Your feet move like
like the way you move like
Come tell me about your past
your future goals like
Mi familia roles
like familiar notes of
dark chocolate sweet
epic tales to spark
revolutionary fervor
hurt me burn my
heart and soul to the ground
and pick me back up type of
love
Like, have you ever felt freedom in your bones?
I’m talking late night
Early morning joneses
bright light
small city
rooster crows
Bienvinidos
Yallah
Mis Amores
freedom love jones
You’ve known this land
Your feet move like
come tell me about your past
and future goals like
mí familia roles
like familiar tales to spark
revolutionary praxis
hurt me burn my heart and soul to the ground and pick me back up like
Truth or Dare?
Truth: You run this place
Dare: I dare you to start this revolution
“Seeds”
History.
Stolen.
Memories…
choked to silence
by tear gassed
skunk flavored waters
US-aid-package bombed
streets terrorized
homes terrorized
this is how they’ve killed from ‘48 til
Olive trees rooted tout crimson blood red cries
ripped and torn of the nurturing in their foundation
their fruits bear sorrow, reminiscent of southern trees
dreams of freedom whispering through her vines
generations displaced to western shores
yearning
needing for motherlands sweet reprieve
If soil spoke truth
It would story tell a tale
a thousand years past the facade of their empire
‘pushed into the sea’ they’ll claim it
then create martyrs of the roots
those they’d relegate to weeds
more akin to seeds
fighting to exist
existing and resisting
In the face of ignorance and tyranny
all the while grasping
keeping Keys
preserving precious memories
Hold on, fight on, stand strong
like those ancient trees
they want you to be silent
so they can say you were complicit
In your history they will attempt to rewrite the narrative
Falastine
Let the truth be told even if it hurts
Even when it breaks you
Even as you shake with anger and frustration
Even as the allied dwindle and compromise
Let it be told
hold your keys
Habibi…
Habibti…
From the river to the sea, she will be free.
