Lewis Raynes Poet Spoken Word

Notes About The Poem

I have included stage directions with this spoken word about when you have had enough, and now is the time you take stock, change your habits, command yourself to flourish.

Self Help: Ritual of the new body

(((Before beginning: Dim the lights. Light one candle. Place a bowl of water to your left. Place a stone to your right. Stand barefoot. Feel the floor. Feel the moment.)))

Night gathers. 
I step into it. 
Bare feet. 
Bare truth. 
Bare intent.

(Pause. Let the silence thicken.)

I call the old self 
to the fire. 
I thank him. 
I release him. 
I let him fall 
like dry leaves 
to the earth.

(Lift the stone. Hold it like the weight of your past.)

I raise my hands. 
I summon change. 
Not softly. 
Not politely. 
But with the force 
of a man 
claiming his own myth.

I move. 
Body waking 
like a creature 
long asleep.

I run. 
I lift. 
I sweat. 
Each drop 
a sacrifice. 
Each breath 
a spell.

(Touch the water. Let it run across your fingers.)

Unhealthy habits 
crumble 
like rotten idols. 
I break them 
with my stride. 
With my hunger 
for better. 
With my refusal 
to stay small.

I write 
as if the words 
are charms. 
Ink binding me 
to the man 
I’m becoming.

I paint 
with colours 
stolen from dawn. 
Shapes rising 
like spirits 
from the canvas.

I play 
to honour joy. 
Joy is sacred. 
Joy is ritual.
 Joy is the god 
I forgot 
to worship.

I love 
with open hands. 
Open chest. 
Open heart. 
Love is the altar 
I kneel at 
without shame.

(Raise the candle slightly — not high, just enough to glow across your face.)

The moon watches. 
The earth listens. 
The air shifts. 
Something answers.

I feel it. 
A pulse. 
A spark. 
A whisper 
from the old gods 
saying: 
“Begin.”

So I do. 
I rise. 
I rise again. 
I rise until rising 
becomes my nature.

Tonight 
I carve my future 
into the dark.

Tomorrow 
I walk into it 
with fire 
in my breath.

This is ritual. 
This is vow. 
This is the man 
reborn 
by his own hands.

(Blow out the candle. End in silence.)

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