FINAL_THE SYNOPTIK LENS MAGAZINE_ DIGITAL (2)

URBAN CREATIVE ARTS MAGAZINE

HOW WE SEE THE WORLD

David T. Harris

URBAN

DISRUPTION

IS HERE

THE BAG

THE BREAK

Do You Own Your Words ?

Poetry &

Mental Health

By Luvlee The Poet

WELCOME

THE

SYNOPTIK

LENZS

URBAN CREATIVE ARTS MAGAZINE

IT’S HOW WE SEE THE WORLD

THE BRAND

THE VOICE

THE CULTURE

Well....Let Us Show You

Lisa “ SelahRae” DuBois

Writer. Poet. Voice of Urban Disruption.

“I don’t just write—I give voice to what

was overlooked.”

Z. Mitchell

Poet. Observer. Translator of lived

experience.

My voice didn’t come from comfort.

It came from pressure.

Domyee

Writer. Poetry Lover. Artist

Wellness Advocate

“I don’t just write—I paint

emotion and sculpt meaning

into every word.”

LuvLee

The Poet

Writer. Author. Poet.

Mental Health Advocate

I paint pictures with

words.

Shirley

Morgan

Fields

Writer. Poet.

My pen is my ministry—

every word carries

purpose.

Writing to Inspire.

Speaking to Transform.

Graphic Art

wanted send

inquiry to

selahraethepoet@

gmail.com

SPOKEN

ON PURPOSE

WE WILL NOT BE

SILENT

THE

SYNOPTIK

LENZS

L.S.DuBois

Chief Editor

Not your

traditional creative

arts magazine. We

are more than

white pages and

black letters. We

are voice. We are

culture— We are

expression in

motion. We are

poets… unfiltered,

unapologetic, and

unfazed. This is

our world.

SelahRae

The Poet

We Are

POETS

Designed to

elevate your mind

CONTENTS

Center Stage

Just David

Who Are We

Founder of Diverse Verses

Feature*

Open Page

Reader Submissions

Poems

Stories

Reflections

Craft: The Message

Urban Disruption

Lifestyle

Poetry and Mental Health

LuvLee The Poet

Lifestyle

Poetry and Mental Health* When “I’m

Okay” Really Means I’m Just

Functioning

8 Things Your Body Needs to Create

Craft: The Stage

Poetic Ancestors

Craft: The Business

Do You Own Your Words

The Bag & The Break

Creative Network

Become a supporter and have your

business listed.*

CTA

Submit your voice and become part of

our publication *

Are you a poet? Would you like to write

with us?

THE

SPOKEN

WORD

THE

SPOKEN

WORD

Becoming The Poem Memorization Is

Not ENOUGH

Poet’s Prompt

On My Porch

CRAFT

THE MESSAGE

Urban Disruption

The Poet’s Prompt

SELAHRAE DUBOIS

Urban literary arts—a topic not often discussed. A topic

misunderstood, and in some cases, not even recognized as

an art form worthy of mention within the halls of academia.

Now before the argument is made—that’s not true—and

names like Langston Hughes, Gwendolyn Brooks, Maya

Angelou, and Nikki Giovanni are presented as evidence of

inclusion, the reality is this—there is little to no

consideration for the street poet. The one writing on the

corner of any urban city in the USA.

URBAN

DISRUPTION

Urban literary arts is not defined by race, but by environment, experience, and expression.

It is rarely centered in literary journals or elevated on

major theater stages. Not due to a lack of depth or

craft, but because its delivery, its language, and its

cultural roots disrupt the expectations those platforms

have long protected. In some circles, the urban artform

is quietly dismissed—not as poetry, but as noise—

unrefined, undisciplined, and unworthy of the same

intellectual space reserved for voices shaped by

academic elitism. But what is labeled “noise” is often

truth without permission.

What is called “unrefined” is expression that refuses

to be filtered. And what these spaces fail to recognize

is this— spoken word is not lacking structure; it is

operating from a different one— And when a different

structure enters the room, disruption isn’t a problem—

it’s a response.

The limitation of poetry is twofold—it is constrained

by academic elitism and literary spaces that choose to

ignore it, and by a widespread misunderstanding of

what poetry actually is.

POI‌ĒMA

POI ĒMA

Urban literary arts i s not here to conform. It is here to

disrupt. It is not here to wait. It is here to create—

create the opportunity to be heard, seen, and

understood from a perspective outside the status quo

of how literary arts is defined and experienced.

It breaks rules by rejecting the idea that art must be

filtered to be valuable—refusing to shrink its language,

its rhythm, or its truth to fit academic or institutional

standards.

It challenges systems by confronting who has

historically been centered, who has been excluded, and

why certain voices are labeled “raw” while others are

labeled “refined.”

It refuses to be ignored because it is rooted in lived

experience—real stories, real tension, real culture—

delivered in a way that does not allow the audience to

remain passive. Urban literary arts does not separate

performance from message, or culture from craft.

It brings the street to the stage, the sanctuary to the

mic, and the unspoken to the surface—forcing a

redefinition of what counts as literature and who gets

to carry it. In the space of art, spoken word poetry has

been one of the least accepted genres.

URBAN DISRUPTION

I was academically misplaced—written off as a

student who could not learn, more precisely labeled

“learning disabled,” as if my struggle to fit their

system meant I lacked the ability to think at all. Even

as a student, I knew something was off. I assumed it

was me—because that’s what was implied. That I was

the problem. That I had the problem. I did not fit into

the system of standardized testing or rigid methods of

evaluation. And instead of asking how I learned,

instead of discovering how I processed, expressed, or

understood what was being taught—no one took the

time. The system did not adjust. It labeled.

It categorized. It rejected. It placed.

And then it moved on. And that is what systems do

with things—and people—they do not understand

Traditional poetry spaces have long positioned

themselves as the standard— the places where poetry

is published, performed, and preserved. But these

spaces are not neutral.

PO‌ĒTRY

PO ĒTRY

Academic elitism does not just define poetry—it

controls who is allowed to be heard. It prioritizes

pedigree over presence, credentials over creativity, and

institutions over lived experience. In this system, value

is not determined by the weight of the words, but by

the name attached to them.

It operates through gatekeeping—deciding which

voices are “refined,” which are “raw,” and which are

dismissed altogether. In doing so, it creates a hierarchy

where expression must be validated by institutions

before it is considered legitimate.

It is an unspoken culture designed to silence voices that

challenge, convict, and force change.

And when poetry steps outside of the institutions that

believe they created it or own it, it is no longer

measured by their standards—it disrupts them so

completely that it cannot be measured at all. My first

encounter with academic elitism began in high school

—though at the time, I didn’t have the language for it.

I didn’t know I was entering a system, a culture

designed not only to silence my voice, but to convince

me that I didn’t have one…that what I carried had no

value.

Academic Elitism

Literary Systems

URBAN DISRUPTION

Expression becomes filtered, adjusted, or abandoned

altogether in an attempt to fit standards that were

never designed to hold it. And in doing so, poetry itself

is limited—reduced to what can be validated, rather

than expanded by what is expressed. And if these

spaces are limited in how they define poetry, then the

real issue is not just exclusion, it is misunderstanding.

The True Nature of Poetry

Is God a Poet? If poetry, at its root, means to create—

to bring something into existence—then the question is

not rhetorical. It demands an answer. The word poetry

comes from the Greek poiēma—a term far larger

than the words we confine to a page. Its original

meaning has nothing to do with rhyme or form.

Poiēma is a work, a craft, a creation—something

made with intention, shaped with purpose, and

brought into existence. And if poetry, at its root, is the

act of creating—then it did not begin with us. It began

in creation itself. In Genesis, God does not formally

write—He speaks, forms, separates, and brings into

existence. Light from darkness. Order from chaos.

Life from nothing. This is not composition.

This is creation. This is poiēma.

Its closest equivalent in the Hebrew is bara—“In the

beginning God created…”Before poetry was ever

written, it was created. If poetry, at its root, is creation

—then the answer is clear.

God is not simply a poet by title—He is the origin of

what poetry actually is. Not because He writes in lines

or stanzas, but because He creates, forms, and brings

into existence with intention and purpose.

Which means poetry was never meant to be confined

to the page. It was never limited to structure, format,

or literary approval. Poetry is present anywhere

something is being made— in voice, in movement, in

expression, in the act of bringing thought, emotion,

and truth into form.

They are curated. They are selective. And more often

than not, they reflect a narrow definition of what

poetry is allowed to look like, sound like, and be.

Spoken word is often marginalized within these spaces

—not because it lacks rigor, but because it does not

conform to a page-based tradition that prioritizes

what can be read over what can be felt. One of the

central tensions is this—spoken word is not page

poetry. It does not, and cannot, fully adhere to the

structure of poetry designed for the page. It is free. It

moves. It shifts. It often vacillates between form and

freedom, breaking rules and shaping itself around

what the piece demands.

In academic journals, poetry is often valued for its

visual structure rather than its sonic power, creating a

divide where performance is treated as secondary. In

formal readings, expression is expected to be

contained, measured, quiet, controlled—while

memorization, embodiment, and emotional delivery

are often frowned upon. In workshops shaped by the

literary canon, work rooted in identity, immediacy, and

lived experience is often met with skepticism, as

though truth must first pass through tradition to be

considered valid.

Even in competitive spaces, there is a clear divide—

between poetry that is technically correct and poetry

that is fully alive. This is not accidental. It is the result

of a long-standing bias that elevates “page poetry”

above oral tradition—ignoring the fact that poetry

began as sound, as story, as voice before it was ever

confined to a page. And when spoken word enters

these spaces, it does not just exist within them— it

exposes the limitations they were built on. The

consequence of academic elitism is not just exclusion

—it is distortion. Voices are silenced before they are

ever fully formed, and artists begin to question their

own legitimacy instead of the system that failed to

recognize them.

URBAN DISRUPTION

Lack of Understanding

And this is where the misunderstanding

begins. Because if poetry is reduced to what is

written, then everything that exists outside of

that definition is not just overlooked—it is

misidentified.

Labeled.

Categorized.

Rejected.

Placed.

Therefore, poetry is not a genre. It is not a

category. It is not something that belongs to

institutions. Poetry is creation. And wherever

creation is present— poetry exists. Poetry is

not what we write. It is what we bring into

existence through experience

and expression.

At first glance, the word “urban” seems

simple—almost self-explanatory.

“Urban” is not a neutral word—it comes

with assumptions, expectations, and unspoken

definitions. In some conversations within

artistic spaces, the word “urban” is

synonymous with ghetto, ignorant, and

uneducated.

The textbook definition of “urban” pertains

to areas of higher population density,

developed infrastructure, and complex social

and economic systems, typically found in

cities. It was once a matter of location;

however, it has evolved into a label—a label

that houses groups of marginalized people

based on race, poverty, crime, struggle, and

educational level. The concept of “urban” is

often seen and felt through practices like

redlining, which can be understood as an

extension of unspoken social elitism—either

to confine marginalized people to a location or

to uproot them from one. In this context,

“urban” becomes tied to economic

disinvestment.

URBAN DISRUPTION

Redefining “Urban

“Because

when

systems

fail,

something

else

develops

—the

voice of

the

people.

And that

voice gets

louder.”

Urban is not a location or a group of people

in a localized space—it is a culture shaped

by lived experience, expressed through

rhythm, language, and resilience.

It is driven to disrupt the stereotypes that

have locked creative voices out of spaces

deemed for the refined, not the raw. Urban

Disruption is not coming—it’s already is

here...POETRY.

Lisa “Selah Rae” DuBois

Poet. Preacher, Playwright,

Photograoher & Educator

founder and CEO of The

Synoptic Lens.

DuBois has over 25 years in

education, she has taught

cosmetology, English, and

Creative Writing, bringing

both structure and creativity

into every space she enters.

As an academically trained

writer with a cultural

foundation rooted in her

early love of rap music, her

work reflects a balance of

discipline, expression, and

lived experience. She holds

a B.S. in Biblical Studies

from Philadelphia Biblical

University and a Master of

Divinity from Biblical

Theological Seminary.

She is currently a student at

United Theological Seminary

pursuing a PhD in Theology

& The Arts

Through her writing, she

challenges traditional literary

boundaries—merging faith,

culture, and raw expression

to explore voice, identity, and

impact

comments:

Selahraethepoet@gmail.com

IG:

selahraethepoet

CENTER

STAGE

Listen To Interview Here

Reader: Synoptik Lenzs

Formerlly

Write In Your Face

David T. Harris