Sabrina Benaim competed in the 2014 Canadian Individual Poetry Slam Championship on the CIPS Finals Stage during the Verses Festival in Vancouver BC. This is Sabrina's poem Reasons
something about the way she carries herself, in all her poems is mesmerizing. she has a certain way of delivering things not just her tone but it feels like her body speaks with her. i can't explain but i could only hope i could carry myself the way she does.
This not only was an excellent poem but it was delivered so beautifully. The words always roll off her tongue in such a brilliant way. Always enjoyable
REASONS WE DON’T WORK He doesn’t like bananas. I mean, who doesn’t like bananas? Our favorite football teams are bitter rivals. Obviously he has terrible taste in football teams. He is sweet like a lemon, I am sweet like stolen candy. All of my scars, smirk. He smokes cigarettes: DISGUSTING. I have never solved a rubik’s cube. I cannot recognize the appropriate moment to give up. I bet my eyelashes at the rabbit hole. He is a lazy cook. He eats frozen vegetables straight from the freezer bag using his hand as a five-fingered-fork. Wanting him feels like ignoring the warning not to keep my hand on the burner for too long as a lesson in withstanding heat. Turns out I am most receptive to hands on learning. Love is not like high school, I cannot skip the homework and still ace the test. I swear he’ll never move and I’ll always shimmy shake. I swear I’m just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights. I swear, like I salivate at the taste of soap washing out my mouth he is clean white T-Shirts. And silly southern grandpa sayings from the 40’s… I am eager to get my hands dirty. I treat love like a semester abroad. All of my poetry is just unsent postcards. I keep a packed suitcase. Love is a house I can only recognize as home once I’ve left it, I am always looking back. He is not my next adventure. I want a front porch story filled with laughter and lemonade tongue kisses. He is a back porch story I’ll regale one evening when the rolling bowl of thunder reminds me of him barreling through my rose garden leaving behind by boldly standing stems of thorns… I can’t show him where it hurts. He won’t tell me how he feels, he is the rubik’s cube I cannot put down. I don’t wanna wonder what his five-fingered-fork hand feels like in mine, why he won’t look me in the eyes and smile at the same time, why one minute and seven seconds is the longest I can go without looking at him when we are in the same room… I always catch him looking away. When I sweep my love under the rug, I trip over it. It is not romantic when falling over one’s own love. “What has not been can never be lost” might be the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard. “One day” is the most romantic thing he’s ever said to me, he was drunk when he said it. Evidently he is forgetful when he is drunk. I am the worst kind of forgetful: I remember everything.
"What has not been can never be lost" might be the most romantic shit I have ever heard. "One day" is the most romantic thing he ever said to me. He was drunk when he said it. Evidently, he is forgetful when he outs drunk. I am the worst kind of forgetful -- I remember everything.
shreya mittal I think that maybe she meant at this point being alone and not bothered by him might seem like the most romantic thing to her now. Like this is the bottom of the barrel, this shit's so bad that never have gotten to know him may be the best thing that she could romance. - Oscar jottitt.com
+Abigail Silvio Challenge accepted. Punctuation is all mine, based on delivery. Reasons (We Don't Work) Sabrina Benaim He doesn’t like bananas. I mean, who doesn’t like bananas? Our favorite football teams are bitter rivals. Obviously, he has terrible taste in football teams. He is sweet like a lemon; I am sweet like stolen candy. All of my scars smirk. He smokes cigarettes. Disgusting. I have never solved a Rubik’s cube. I cannot recognize the appropriate moment to give up. I bat my eyelashes at the rabbit hole. He is a lazy cook. He eats frozen vegetables straight from the freezer bag using his hand as a five-fingered fork. Wanting him feels like ignoring the warning not to keep my hand on the burner for too long as a lesson in withstanding heat. Turns out I am most receptive to hands-on learning. Love is not like high school: I cannot skip the homework and still ace the test. I swear he’ll never move and I’ll always shimmy-shake. I swear I’m just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights. I swear like I salivate at the taste of soap washing out my mouth. He is clean white tee shirts and silly Southern grandpa sayings from the 40s. I am eager to get my hands dirty. I treat love like a semester abroad. All of my poetry is just unsent postcards. I keep a packed suitcase. Love is a house I can only recognize as home once I’ve left it. I am always looking back. He is not my next adventure. I want a front porch story filled with laughter and lemonade-tongue kisses; he is a back porch story I’ll regale one evening when the rolling bowl of thunder reminds me of him, barreling through my rose garden leaving behind boldly standing stems of thorns. I can’t show him where it hurts. He won’t tell me how he feels; he is the Rubik’s cube I cannot put down. I don’t want to wonder what his five-fingered fork hand feels like in mine, why he won’t look me in the eyes and smile at the same time, why one minute and seven seconds is the longest I can go without looking at him when we are in the same room. I always catch him looking away. When I sweep my love under the run, I trip over it. It is not romantic when falling over one’s own love. ‘What has not been, can never be lost’ might be the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard. ‘One day’ is the most romantic thing he ever said to me. He was drunk when he said it. Evidently he is forgetful when he is drunk. I am the worst kind of forgetful - I remember everything.
favorite line: "I am the worst kind of forgetful, I remember everything."
something about the way she carries herself, in all her poems is mesmerizing. she has a certain way of delivering things not just her tone but it feels like her body speaks with her. i can't explain but i could only hope i could carry myself the way she does.
Shay Yaz I get exactly what you're saying
Its sexy as fuck.
"I cannot skip the homework and still ace the test."
I love it. It's like there will be hard times but it will be all worth it
"Love is a house I can only recognize as home once I’ve left it. I am always looking back."
:::snaps fingers:::
1:06 "I swear I'm just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights."
My life.
She's amazing!
i love how she delivers her poem
She's a brilliant writer.
This not only was an excellent poem but it was delivered so beautifully. The words always roll off her tongue in such a brilliant way. Always enjoyable
REASONS WE DON’T WORK
He doesn’t like bananas. I mean, who doesn’t like bananas? Our favorite football teams are bitter rivals. Obviously he has terrible taste in football teams. He is sweet like a lemon, I am sweet like stolen candy. All of my scars, smirk. He smokes cigarettes: DISGUSTING. I have never solved a rubik’s cube. I cannot recognize the appropriate moment to give up. I bet my eyelashes at the rabbit hole. He is a lazy cook. He eats frozen vegetables straight from the freezer bag using his hand as a five-fingered-fork. Wanting him feels like ignoring the warning not to keep my hand on the burner for too long as a lesson in withstanding heat. Turns out I am most receptive to hands on learning. Love is not like high school, I cannot skip the homework and still ace the test. I swear he’ll never move and I’ll always shimmy shake. I swear I’m just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights. I swear, like I salivate at the taste of soap washing out my mouth he is clean white T-Shirts. And silly southern grandpa sayings from the 40’s… I am eager to get my hands dirty. I treat love like a semester abroad. All of my poetry is just unsent postcards. I keep a packed suitcase. Love is a house I can only recognize as home once I’ve left it, I am always looking back. He is not my next adventure. I want a front porch story filled with laughter and lemonade tongue kisses. He is a back porch story I’ll regale one evening when the rolling bowl of thunder reminds me of him barreling through my rose garden leaving behind by boldly standing stems of thorns… I can’t show him where it hurts. He won’t tell me how he feels, he is the rubik’s cube I cannot put down. I don’t wanna wonder what his five-fingered-fork hand feels like in mine, why he won’t look me in the eyes and smile at the same time, why one minute and seven seconds is the longest I can go without looking at him when we are in the same room… I always catch him looking away. When I sweep my love under the rug, I trip over it. It is not romantic when falling over one’s own love. “What has not been can never be lost” might be the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard. “One day” is the most romantic thing he’s ever said to me, he was drunk when he said it. Evidently he is forgetful when he is drunk. I am the worst kind of forgetful: I remember everything.
(????)=silly Southern
HannaHeartSleep thank youuuuu so much!!! English is my 2nd language
" dump him" funniest thing I've heard all day
I am the worst kind of forgetful, I remember everything.
"What has not been can never be lost" might be the most romantic shit I have ever heard. "One day" is the most romantic thing he ever said to me. He was drunk when he said it. Evidently, he is forgetful when he outs drunk. I am the worst kind of forgetful -- I remember everything.
"I swear I’m just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights"~WOW
“I’m just a bird in the girl who is afraid of heights” love that
Absolutely love this piece!
I am FEELIN' THIS.
I love her voice
"It's not romantic when falling over one's own love."
Just for the beginning and because it's the truth, I hate bananas
i saw her perform this is toronto at the drake hotel. she is excellent
She is so beautiful, ugh
Wow, just wow.
She is adorable.
She is sooooo cute and an amazing poetess.
So awesome. Sabrina Benaim I love you!
anyone in 2018? ☺️ i always come back to this!! btw does anyone know who won this CIPS 2014 competition? thanks!
Laughter and Lemonade tongue kisses. I love it.
you are extremely talented.
love you so much , you are brilliant ..keep it up girl
Genius, one of my favorite
Damn, that one hit close to home...
you came to our school :)
Reminds me of Sarah Kay's When Love Arrives :)
2:01 was the favorite line
Can someone explain this to me? I feel like the way I understood it wasn't it right.
It's about the reasons her and a guy don't "work" as a couple.
It's basically about a girl who is so in love with a person opposite to her
Jennifer Aguilar I am interested to know how you understood it... Can you share your thoughts Jennifer Aguilar ? - Oscar jottitt.com
he is the rubus cube i cant put down. sing it sister
hahahah in the beginning someone was like "dump him"
I love you
Wow
everyone has story so i just like the song: rthe reason
Chciałbym ją kiedyś poznać, przekroczyć tę granicę niemożliwego i przekonać się, czy niemożliwe nie jest przypadkiem tylko ułudą.
When the phone made a noise, i was looking for mine
I can't never understand her poems except explaining my depression to my mother. Too many metaphors.
What's the meaning of "One has not been, can never be lost - might be the most romantic shit I've ever heard"?
shreya mittal she says "what has not been can never be lost" meaning you can't miss what you never had.
shreya mittal I think that maybe she meant at this point being alone and not bothered by him might seem like the most romantic thing to her now. Like this is the bottom of the barrel, this shit's so bad that never have gotten to know him may be the best thing that she could romance. - Oscar jottitt.com
can someone please type this down :3
+Abigail Silvio Challenge accepted. Punctuation is all mine, based on delivery.
Reasons (We Don't Work)
Sabrina Benaim
He doesn’t like bananas. I mean, who doesn’t like bananas? Our favorite football teams are bitter rivals. Obviously, he has terrible taste in football teams. He is sweet like a lemon; I am sweet like stolen candy. All of my scars smirk. He smokes cigarettes. Disgusting. I have never solved a Rubik’s cube. I cannot recognize the appropriate moment to give up. I bat my eyelashes at the rabbit hole. He is a lazy cook. He eats frozen vegetables straight from the freezer bag using his hand as a five-fingered fork. Wanting him feels like ignoring the warning not to keep my hand on the burner for too long as a lesson in withstanding heat. Turns out I am most receptive to hands-on learning. Love is not like high school: I cannot skip the homework and still ace the test. I swear he’ll never move and I’ll always shimmy-shake. I swear I’m just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights. I swear like I salivate at the taste of soap washing out my mouth. He is clean white tee shirts and silly Southern grandpa sayings from the 40s. I am eager to get my hands dirty. I treat love like a semester abroad. All of my poetry is just unsent postcards. I keep a packed suitcase. Love is a house I can only recognize as home once I’ve left it. I am always looking back. He is not my next adventure. I want a front porch story filled with laughter and lemonade-tongue kisses; he is a back porch story I’ll regale one evening when the rolling bowl of thunder reminds me of him, barreling through my rose garden leaving behind boldly standing stems of thorns. I can’t show him where it hurts. He won’t tell me how he feels; he is the Rubik’s cube I cannot put down. I don’t want to wonder what his five-fingered fork hand feels like in mine, why he won’t look me in the eyes and smile at the same time, why one minute and seven seconds is the longest I can go without looking at him when we are in the same room. I always catch him looking away. When I sweep my love under the run, I trip over it. It is not romantic when falling over one’s own love. ‘What has not been, can never be lost’ might be the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard. ‘One day’ is the most romantic thing he ever said to me. He was drunk when he said it. Evidently he is forgetful when he is drunk. I am the worst kind of forgetful - I remember everything.
wow!!! thank you so muuuchhh!!!!!
+Abigail Silvio ^_^
i'm just a bird in the body of a girl afraid of heights
*mic drop*
I'm just a bird in the body of a girl scared of heights."
Nice!!
:)
What's wrong with people not liking bananas? I hate bananas....
Did anyone else hate the person in the audience that laughed at everything like omfg pls stop I'm trynna listen to her poem.
I loathe bannanas :(
I don't like bananas..... I don't like foot ball..... I don't smoke but I don't care so am a someone who won't work with anyone 😔
This is silly word salad. Subjective fee fees
I don't like bananas, but I hate smoking so who knows, maybe I'm a wife material 😅