Friday, September 30, 2005

Emergency Room

This is an oxy moron.
I know I should have gone to the emergency room this morning, but my kids were spent and I didn't think it was that bad. Daylight showed something different. I let the kids sleep in. I told them to get there when they were rested. I went to class.
I know I am stubborn.
I know I should have gone to the doctor right away.
I also know that I take my responsibilities very seriously and my class, is mine.
I didn't want to try to arrange a sub, freak them out because they know I don't miss school. Up until this year I only missed three days of school.
I was having a baby, and we were both in class on the fourth day.
I had a good time with my class today.
They made me realize how lucky I was.
When I told them what happened my favorite kid in the world,
that I didn't birth, was upset.
He said he was mad at me.
He was glad I saved my kids and home but he was mad and wondered why my arms and face weren't burned.
I hadn't thought of that.
They should have been.
The plastic was melting in my hands and the only reason I stepped on the hot plastic was because I had to turn my face away from the flames.
I am lucky. Possibly insane.
I was ok until the throbbing started.
Josh, my favorite, made me smile through all my pain.
He was being questioned by another student about why he was still in my class.
Josh decided when I was his fourth grade teacher he decided tha he needed to stay in my class another year.
His father said it was his decision, and when Josh decides something that's it.
When Josh wouldn't answer him the kid asked me.
I said it was because Josh loved me and felt he needed more time to learn in my class.
I told him I was honored by his decision and it has made me a better teacher.
Josh blushed a rainbow.
Made me smile.
Later I wanted to take an aspirin and asked Josh to go to the Highschool and get me a soda from the machine. He asked if he could get himself one.
I said yes.
There is a rule about using the machines and when the other students saw he had one they started complaining.
"Why does he get to get a soda and we can't," they demanded. The largest protestor a Vegan who doesn't even drink soda.
Josh slammed his soda on the table and said, " Because she LOVES me more than you!"
The soda coming from my nose took my mind off the pain and the aspirin, and the stunned silence of my class, cracked my shit up.
Later on one asked," You love us all, right?"
"Yes," I said.
Josh explained to them that of course I would say that,"Theresa is a nice person, she doesn't want to hurt your feelings, but don't get it confused," he said.
The phrase I have been trying to teach him is "Don't get it twisted".
He says you should say what you mean, I say it's less funny that way. I still have a few months to work on him.
I said "Josh, I do care about everybody in this class, you know that."
He nodded, and winked at me when the class looked away.
He is a great kid.
This is a long one.
Soon after that the pain was too much. I announced that I had to go to the emergency room.
Just then my mother came in and yelled at me to take my asbutt (that's what yo say when you realize that you are about to curse in front of a bunch of kids) to the emergency room.
I said OK I'm going.
When she left the kids remarked that it was cool the way I made her think it was her idea, and realized that even when they are grown their parents may still yell at them.
I waited two hours before they saw me.
I waited in a room for another hour before the doctor came in.
I waited some more while she ordered a Tetanus shot.
Can I just say that is a painful shot and she was trying to give it to me in the fresh ink.
And it hurts like hell! For days!
Then she cut the blister drained it and dressed the wound.
Gave me an ugly shoe and crutches.
What she did took about 10 minutes.
I wonder if I was bleeding they would have seen me sooner?
I think all this stuff is happening to send me a message, it's not don't write, my hands are fine, it's not don't talk, my face wasn't burned. It's sit your ass down, because now walking is painful.
I was supposed to do a lot of things this weekend.
I am sorry but I can't.
My goddess is telling me to sit my ass down and when my goddess speaks I listen..... Well sometimes, she knows I'm hardheaded.
Please come out to HOUSE OF POETS on Monday Gypsee-Yo will feature and I should have several new pieces. But I do have groovy pain killers so they may not make much sense.
They are kicking in right now, It's almost nighty-night time......quick someone come tuck me in!


I am not sure what's happening in the cosmos.
I am not sure why so many potentially dangerous things have moved into my circle.
I am not sure why at 4:00 this morning when the fan in my daughters messy bedroom caught on fire, we weren't all killed. Except for maybe it wasn't our time.
I stepped barefoot, as I carried the flaming fan to the bathroom, on melted plastic and metal. My foot is burned really bad.
It won't all come off.
I suppose a doctor's visit is in order.
A very deep limp.
It really hurts, I really want to cry, but I think my kids have been freaked out enough.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005


I think I was targeted last night.
I have no real proof, but in hindsight and taking into account all the e-mails received telling about the ways women are tricked into victimhood, I believe I was targeted. Unfortunately for the asshole or assholes ( don't want to leave any of them out), I am an unusually pissed off, black woman, when the air is deliberately let out of my tires because it appeared I was alone and the only car in the lot. Before Melissa and I got to my car some dude was approaching asking if I needed help, before the flat became apparent to me.
How the fuck did he know I needed help?
I know what I believe.
What would have happened if I were alone?
Would there be a news report of a missing goddess with a bad ass tattoo,
or some dude with his ass royally kicked
and the only reason I got caught was because
I had to wait for the cops to help me remove my foot from his ass?
I have had some bizarre shit happen to me in the last couple of weeks
  • My daughter was reunited with the father she's never know, who is also displaced by Katrina.

  • I was ripped off at a church. Instant get into heaven card. Can I get an AMEN?

  • Some idiot dude sits at a table with me (uninvited) where he tells me he is sure that I am to be the mother of his children, even though I explain in detail my hysterectomy and assure him that in this space and time men don't interest me in the least. I gave him someone's phone number to make him leave....hope it wasn't yours:-0

  • I almost experienced death by port a potty, a surely shitty way to go!

  • Then the air is mysteriously let out of my tire

I believe I shall plat lotto tomorrow and see what happens!

Saturday, September 24, 2005


So, it's done!
I have finished the list I created for myself as I approached my 40th birthday!
I have decided through a pemanenet display on my person to accept my alter ego, Sister Seuss.
So I had this dream the other night, I was creating a line of journals and my new book of poetry all a Sister Seuss Production. I talked to my ace, my buddy, my good friend Cindy. I told her what the tattoo was to look like and she drew it.
Just what I wanted.
All day I anticipated getting my tattoo.
I was a fucking nervous wreck!
Melissa, my partner in most crimes, was on board,
because I am a wimp,
and would be in need of some Jet I form of support.
Who ever told you that it doesn't hurt,
whoever told you that it's a good kind of pain,
whoever said oh it's no big deal in that nonchalant way...
Whoever they were,
they fucking lied to you!
It hurt like a mother fucker!
My impulse to scream was only drowned out by the fact that during the pain
I was not breathing,
trying to keep the profanity under control,
which produced tiny,
sparkling stars....
A sure sign that I was about to pass the fuck out!
I did not pass out, but I did, with the help of Melissa, drink two pitchers of beer after.
Much needed in light of the fact that I felt so loopy after.
my ass,
pain, pure and simple!
I experienced ink, I don't think I will ever do that shit again!
But now I must take another photo shoot!
Naked with the tattoo!
Yes, this must happen as soon as this bitch heals, OUCH!!!!!!

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Summer Promises

I am having a silent fit!
OK, it's not so silent, but it is very much a fucking fit!
I made promises to myself this summer,
Take erotic photo shoot, check
have a one night stand, check
Go to new Orleans, check
do at least two gigs out of town, check
go to the national poetry slam, check
try to maintain a certain level of cool,
okay so on this one I might be fucking up a bit,
my frustration levels are causing me to be a bit more bitchier than usual,
for I am a sexual being having no sex,
and let's face it the world is fucked up,
so uncoolness via,natural disaster
or associating with those who call your bitch demons to the surface don't count right?
So, check
Did you notice there was no check!
Here it is the first day of Fall and there is no tattoo!
Not on my arm or on my ass, and I am not happy!
I want to go out tomorrow and get my damn tattoo!
Who's with me!!

Oh, by the by, today is National Ice Cream Cone Day!
Go out get a scoop and give yourself a big ole hug from me!!!!!

Monday, September 19, 2005

Talk Like a Pirate

Yes it is International Talk Like a Pirate Day!
And yes, I dressed and talked like a pirate all day,
and my class was great.
Yes, sure most of them were embarrassed as my pirate attire was very over the top.
Including the facial hair I added.
We plundered through Target, then off to The Pirate's Cove to face Blackbeard's Challenge.

Who knew they would be so bad at miniature golf.
It took a bit longer for some, and many balls ended up in the water.
I was thoroughly entertained.
It's all a part of my educational scheme, where I tie in my themes:
Hispanic Heritage Month ( a week was not fucking nearly enough)
Then a glimpse of Piracy,
so when Columbus Day rolls around we can discuss the greatest and most ruthless pirate celebrated in America ( aside from the one currently in office),
then I show the effects of the European Explorers on the Hispanic regions of North and South America. That takes me to November where I can then talk about how the Native Americans were devastated by the same Encounters!!!!!
If our children don't learn their history, they will repeat it!!!
You know when I started doing the poetry thing,
I ran up on people who strongly disagree with my opinions,
but couldn't quite put it into words the parts I got wrong.
Just want to tell me I'm not looking at the situation right.
I have no vision problems when it comes to bullshit.
Idiot people who react to what I say as if it were the gospel truth.
These same folks are offended that I am a teacher.
They say education is not political................................fucking idiot freaks!!!
Of course education is political.
I bought a shirt today that kinda sums up my feelings on the subject of people who can't sort opinion from fact and even write that
"parents should opose me being a teacher"
That's right the dickhead spelled oppose wrong.
Guess it's because his teacher didn't think the educational system in this country is political. Well, I would have at least taught him to spell...
My shirt says," Never underestimate stupid people in large groups".
Which is probably what folks were saying when my class stepped out as pirates today.?
I'd rather think they were saying to themselves," What a cool ass teacher! I wish I were back in school so she could be my teacher!"
Yes, that's totally what they were saying!!!!!
You know it's true!

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Poetic Exorcism

Up all night in and our of dreams, consisting of words.
Rough stuff, and yes I look crazy after only 3 hours of sleep.
Walking into a middle school classroom sleep deprived
gives them an edge that you wouldn't believe.
Working this morning the banter a little louder than usual
didn't really register, until it sounded like they were screaming at each other.
So I had to pull the Mad Insane Teacher Card,
and outshout them into silence.
I am not firing on all thrusters.
But I wrestled the two new poems out of me last night.
A kind of poetic exorcism.
Sounds painful doesn't it.
Both pieces are so squishy, not my normal shit.
Oh well, it is what it is.
Here's one:

© Theresa Davis 9/2005

A candle sits on my bedside table
And I want to strike a match
To kiss the wick
To watch the flicker
The glow
Nothing moves as beautifully
As flame dancing
Unlit it remains
I've owned it for almost a year
Earth toned inspiration
Waiting to be realized
Waiting for a spark from me
But it remains unlit
You see, I have this five-year old
He's this amazing man-child
Who reminds me of me
Smart, funny, a little twisted
He comes by it honestly
But he has been conditioned
Conditioned to believe
That a lit candle means
A party
A birthday party to be exact
And no matter the month
The birthday must be his
So in good conscious
I can't light it
I'm a mom
I mean, imagine the guilt
If lit and blown out
When the smoke clears
There is no cake

But in my mind
I light the candle
Every time hardship comes
It's lit
The flame flickers in my minds eye
Offering up a blessing
Of peace,
Of hope
In my mind I watch the flames
The glow inspires me
My inspiration feeds the flame
And in my mind it glows
Even though it remains unlit
It brings me comfort
Brand new it sits
On my bedside table
Rotund it bears 3 wicks
Fearing yet awaiting flames

In my heart I light one
Whispering a prayer for those in need
Basking in the glow of potential joy

I light another
In the glimmer I find myself
Looking forward to better days
Looking forward to the future

I light the third
In it's illumination
I murmur a secret wish
A simple wish that bring a smile to my face
And then a hope as I breathe in
That when I blow out the flames
There will be cake

Tuesday, September 13, 2005


I am now very anxious to get my tattoo.
Been thinking about it all day.
I think next week end maybe.
I am a total pussy when it comes to pain, so if you want to come see me cry like a baby, please do.
This poem has been haunting me.
I dream it vividly and can only retrieve snatches of it when I wake.
The recurring line is I Know,
and it rhymes then breaks over and over again.
Like it wants to follow some form and then break ranks just for the fuck of it.
It's a rowdy little poem.........

Teasing my tongue,
whispered in the dark
caressing me like a lover
under the cover of night
touching me deeply
leaving only slight impressions on my skin
in my mind
waking twisted sheets hold me down
it looks like we made love again last night
and again
fading memories
of sweet nothings in my ear
the words on my lips
like the goodbye kiss you never give me
as you fade into morning

She's a sexy little poem as well.

I'm feeling this

I tried to put one of those moving pictures on here but it didn't work.
More to come after Writing, then spelling, then math.....dang!

Monday, September 12, 2005

Sixth Sense

You know I went through most of the day yesterday not registering that it was September 11th. I didn't realize it last night until Java Monkey. I decided to do Warning Signs because it speaks directly to that day. Two poets before I was to read my friend Cindy called.
Cindy is great!
She's one of those people who make you smile.
I can feel like crap, but she greets me every work morning with a tone in her voice that makes me feel light.
" Hey Theresa, how you doing?"
And I always smile and sometimes the answer is ,
"Did you say how or who I'm doing?"
Or " I had a fucked up evening. Thanks for asking."
Smiling the entire time.
She has a laugh that makes it all better, on my down days I find myself trying to be witty so her laughter will lift me up.
I'm totally using her.
We both benefit.
Any who.
She called me while I was at Java, and I answered it, something I try not to do while poets perform. It felt urgent that I talk to her, because it was 9/11.
Cindy's brother Vernon Cherry, was a New York Firefighter.
He was one of the first firefighters who entered the Towers, and was one of the last bodies they found the following May.
It's unfortunate, but Cindy and I share a lot of loss.

On 9/11, when the first plane struck, we were on our way to a memorial service for a student we both loved who was killed in a senseless car accident. We lost three students that year.

Then in November or boss Dr. Lorraine Wilson passed away.

After her brother's body was recovered, her mother passed away.

The following spring, my father.

But with all that loss, we, she and I, have found a friendship that is solid and strong.
She knows I will bend over backwards, drop everything if she needs anything. And I know she'd do the same. I have truly been blessed to find myself surrounded by people who inspire me and love me, unconditionally. She's late to work today and I sit here at my desk trying to think of something to make her smile, because I know the first thing she will do is say, " Hey Theresa, how you doing?"
And I'll get to tell her how I've been thinking about her.
Of course I'll figure out a way to make it sound dirty.
She will smile give me a blushing giggle.
I will smile because her presence demands it,
and we will both have an excellent day!
All because of my dirty mind, and her infectious laughter!
What a great combo!

Saturday, September 10, 2005

draggin' my ass

i will not be using capital letter and my punctuation may be sketchy my spelling will in some cases be wrong because the u and p keys on my comter, computer stick from time to time.
i can not get my shit together,
it's like i'm moving through jello all slow and slower.
i don't seem to have any energy and it occurs to me that a doctor's visit may be in order.
i drank an energy drink the other day and was knocked out to the point of drooling 30 minutes later,
that would be the opposite of energy.
still feeling helpless and unmotivated wanting to help all those displaced but not really knowing how.
i am doing some benefits but it hardly seems enough.i wish i were a mega church, not so much the god thing but the money thing,
hey have they stepped up yet?
the dollars and the longs?
can i vent a minute?
of course i can,
it's my blog and i can bitch if i want to.
bitch if i want to,
bitch if i want to,
you would bitch to if this happened to you!
that made me grin,
so i went to uhaul to rent a storage space and the peson who was helping me....
i guess we could call it that,
drug this 30 minute process out to an hour and a half.
i was transfixed by her lack of everything.
i watched her like one would watch maybe a car crash just morbid curiosity seeing how long this would take and how she managed to look efficient while not accomplishing much.
it was surreal, between the gold donning most of her front teeth,
the nails that threatened to skewer me,
and the fact that her phone rang no less than seven times while she was not helping me,
by helping me.
the ring tone some obnoxious rap tune calling me a hoe,
seven times,
which she answered everytime telling me after every call that if it wasn't important she wouldn't have taken the call. when what i could deduce from the one side of the conversation was the where and what club would be hopping seemed to be the topic.
i love a party scene as much as the next gal,
so she was right it was very important.
i would feel bad if my acquiring a storage unit from her at work
interfered with her party plans after work.
i tried not to look confused, and couldn't,
which she took as me not understanding as she slowed her speech and talked louder
i almost laughed (it would have been an insane laugh)
as i signed my possessions soul over to the uhaul underlord.
my entire week seems as strange as that moment.
i did hear some awesome poetry at cliterati
and collin rocks my world.
madeline will set java's ears on fire.
i've taken to being reserved in my reading so much so that i didn't even recognize my own words, i've got to not do that in the future.
i have not felt this sensitive in like forever.
that's what i need,
and not the battery operated kind.
sadly i'm not even motivated to meet people,
and how are you going to sleep with them if you don't meet them.
no one's interested any way.
i've turned into this boring old person.
it had to happen.
okay i'm watchin my daughter play the willie wonka ps2 game. and insane squirrels are attacking her character and it is fucking funny. she's screaming "rabid squirrel" and "get him off, get him off". a good cleansing laugh, that felt good.... there she goes again...haaahaaahaaa
check ot my lame ass web site and please offer up suggestions.
also if someone would like to write a bio for me that would be cool, when i talk abot myself i sound stid, stuid, stupid, shit...see what i mean.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

An attempt to clear my head

I have been on the verge of tears for days. Knowing you live in a society deeply rooted in racism, inhumanity and short-sightedness, somehow doesn't prepare you to stare it in the face. I am sickened by the language used, by the lack of respect and leadership. Our government doesn't have our back, and our security doesn't exist in this homeland. I visited New Orleans this summer, I turned 40 in New Orleans! It will be forever changed. The following is an attempt to clear my thoughts, although, true clarity and understanding may never be gained.

Theresa Davis © 2005

Water, water everywhere But not a drop to drink,
Not pure enough to make you holy
But real enough to make you think
Not clean enough to quench your thirst
Falling tears make levels rise
As those perched safely on dry land
Morn the many who have died

Flooding emotions make my head spin
As I dog paddle towards the air pockets in my mind
That don't exist
This drowning sensation that presses On my lungs
as I Choking on fear, on sorrow
And my lack of understanding of how
I could be drowning without the presence of

Trickling through my fingers
I stand before a mirror
My reflection not quite right
Tortured expressions that can't be washed away with the
I use to Wash away the tears
it seems redundant
Seems wasteful
Seems wrong
And I'm afraid that it won't work
I saw you in May for the first time
Because I wanted to know your face
The road I traveled
In the aftermath of Katrina's fury
Sanctioned by Mother Nature
And those who could have prevented chaos, death, desperation
The road I traveled
Washed clear
As clear as the liquid flowing through my splayed fingers

This element
This necessary libation
That can take on many forms
This wonder of nature
That sustains Gives birth to new generations
More of it in our bodies
Than the blood that flows through our veins
But not a drop to drink
Not pure enough to make you holy
But real enough to make you think
Not clean enough to quench you thirst
Falling tears make levels rise
As we perched safely on dry land
Morn the many who have died
And the many who will need us
as they struggle to survive


I can not stop thinking about how unsecured we are in our new state of so called Homeland Security. And this dumb ass quote from the head dumb ass boggles my mind.

"I'm not looking forward to this trip," Bush said as he toured Alabama and Mississippi and headed for Louisiana. "It's as if the entire Gulf Coast were obliterated by the worst kind of weapon you can imagine," he said.

I'm sure American citizens weren't looking forward to this tripped out scenario,
and you didn't have to imagine this disaster,
you were told.
Maybe if someone had drawn a picture and labeled it so you could understand it,
you would have understood that the facts were the facts and not a fucking suggestion.
When you get the information then you begin long-term planning time not after.
Duh, I mean Dubya.

I wonder what the spin will be?
Who will have to take the blame for this?
How many times can "we didn't know?" and "help is on the way" be acceptable answer from the powers that be?
Is Osama behind it? Well I'm sure he'll be connected.
The eighteen year old young man who borrowed (not looted) a bus to save people, may be prosecuted? Where the fuck are we?
Did we just land in the Twilight Zone or were we here to begin with?
How long did it take relief efforts to get to Bushland Florida? Was the storm even off the radar before help was administered?
Again black people wading in the waters.
This time to be freed from fear, death, starvation, and the short sighted stupidity, that is the signs of our times. Racism is not and has never been dead, It lives well, shoe shopping and chocking on pretzels in the White House.
Thinking about the idea of troops, fresh from Iraq, firing on Americans thrown into desperation from their own government frightens me.
Will New Orleans become the new battle ground?
Will we have Soldiers shooting poor, frightened, panicked, civilians that shouldn't be there?
People who don't earn much money but still pay taxes?
People who have watched bodies floating in water and dying on the streets?
Can you imagine the trauma?
Very Scary.

Friday, September 02, 2005

American Refugees

American Refugees in America. Never thought I'd see the day.
This is a situation that should never have happenend. We were lulled into believing that disasters in America come in the form of planes crashing into buildings or weapons of mass destruction that may or may not exist.
Mother nature is pissed.
And seems to be purging.
Does anybody else think that this extreme weather hads gotten worst over the last two years?
Could there be a correlation to the bombs being dropped daily?
Can the earth withstand constant bombardment and it not throw something off balance?
Where do the fumes go?

Listening to the news this morning watching the images of babies barely conscious is truly frightening. Learning that all those budget cuts ( some designated to fix the or prevent the flooding problem) went to do more worthwhile things like?????
Why five days into this are people still there? Where are the fucking rock stars singing their songs of relief?
Where are the big businesses so willing to provide assistance to other nations at the drop of a hat? Dubya planning to go and what?
Tell these people what lie?
It's much easier to lie about what the fuck you are or are not doing in another country, not so much when the devastation is sitting in your backyard!
People are desperate, he will need lots of protection.
I don't think they want to be talked to they want action.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Finders, Looters!!

I was sent an e-mail today with pictures of people wading in the flood water of NO.
The first picture is a black woman.
The captions read " woman wading after looting from a grocery store".
The other picture is a white woman.
Caption reads " woman wades after finding bread and soda in a grocery store".

And it warms my fucking heart to know that with all this devastation,
all this loss,
all this mayhem,
that racism is alive and well in America's media.
It boggles my mind how fucking stupid some people can be.
It makes me wonder about a lot of thing though........
Like, did Dubya find himself a new presidency or did the bastard loot the election?

I can not tell you how fun it was watching the pandemonium at the pumps?
Do people not realize that panic in the populous is like a calling card for gouging?
In a three block radius the price of gas yesterday ranged from $2.89 to 3.79.
Then on the very edge one gashole was charging $4.89.
Can you say CRACKHEAD ?
I think his reasoning was that folks will get tired of the line
and come on over for expensive crap gas.
He had about 8 customers, so I guess it worked.
Not on me though!
I mosied ( how the hell do you spell that word)!
I sauntered my ass over to the QT.
Hard to saunter in a car but I do it well.
There are two entrances.
One sported a line.
The other did not.
I chose the side that did not.
Drove right up to the pumped and watched as the folks in line had blocked it up so
bad that they couldn't get around to the other side where 5 folks fueled up and left in the time I was there. I think people heard that there were lines, so folks would have been disappointed if they weren't in a line.
The line helped to make the panic real and keep the stress high.
Would give them some nice coversation of FUEL RAGE,
as they shelled out over $100 bucks to fill up the ol Suburban.
Don't you think?
Having gone to NO for the first time this summer, the images are hard to believe.
To actually see places I visited, or ate at under water.
Very surreal.
I wonder if the war will let up so some of those funds can be used to help the victims in this war with nature we seem to find ourselves in.
Between Hurricanes, and people being trampled on bridges, a lot of people died this week.
Many didn't have to.
I need to go read and write poetry to clear my fucking head.
I'll try not to loot any beer at the bar. But if I just find'll be okay....right America?