i forget sometimes how big a bitch i can be when provoked.
so i have harranged the thief whitin an inch of his sanity. got my lawyer brother, cop ex brother and law and a host of others to aid me in this mission i like to call
" operation drive a thieving ass mother fucker insane in less than a week cause summer is hear and my boy needs his playstation"
so several threatning e-mails and some eluding to violence and the fact that i'm crazy when crossed this dumb ass responds to my email and i am going to post them
me:
what kind of idiot commits a crime with pictures of himself all over the internet? gave one to the cops, and several to my FRIENDS, they should know who they're looking for. don't you think? you sorta fucked up buddy. pissed off mom!
him, known from now on as the idiot:
first off dont even come at me lik that second i dont even no wat tha hell u are talkin about callin me a theft thrid of all how the hell can i steal something from ur house wen im way in west va. fourth of all my fuckin car doesnt even work but i will tell u wat if anyone in my family gets fuck wit belive i now how to handle it and how ever ur dauther was fuckin wit she needs to put it on them she might dont even no tha nigga and fromwat i heard and no she would would fuck any body
notice how he can't spell
classic thug
me:
tell it to the cops!
you lie like a felon!
you used my fucking card my card at a bp I went there showed your picture so i guess you got an evil fucking twin who looks like you, you fucking idiot. this is not about what you think about anything especially my daughter. is this what you teach that sweet kid you brought to my house. this is about fingerprints you fucking idiot you used my toilet dna. or is that too fucking complicated for you. you are a grown ass man, be a grown ass man not some low life who steals from 5 year olds ant teenagers. you fucked with my family. my family is big and we live in lithonia, decatur and we frequent run n shoots, and you need to learn what your mamma didn't teach you. i'm done you get what the fingerprints the stolen card and the photo id, brings to you. a real man....sorry I forgot who i wasn't talking to. and learn how to spell fro christ sakes!
notice how i misspelled for...i didn't want him to think i was above him
idiot:
watever folk my mother taught mealot before she died and she told medont fuckwit hoes but watever happeni guess ur daugther brought it on herself cause i told her i was leavin cause she had another nigga comin over but i guess wen i get back ill handle that problem
see how he almost admits to the crime, wants me to feel sorry for him then blames the victim
me:
so metro works in virginia interesting and funny when i had you tracked you we in the city limits silly computers what do they know i talked to my brother THE LAWYER and my brother in law THE COP you should be reminded that you are 22 my daughter is 17 it is against another law for you to be involved on any level with her if you come near her or my home ever again i will unleash the real dogs i'm not a child, and i already have people watching they are just waiting for the word to act keep lying to me and the word will be given My step brother THE EX CON is coming up for a visit this weekend, he'll be in town for a few weeks he likes to play ball too ya'll might run into each other oh wait that is if you're back
idiot:
you no wat we can be real i want come near her i dont want to i dont fuck wit people that cheat and lie about stupid shit thats wats this all comes down 2 but just to say i dont no y i do tha things i do but look folk u can get ur shit back i havent did anything wit it but im just trippin cause she lied to me its hard and u dont even no where im comin from my nig wen ur all by urself and have no one to turn to are live lifes fuck up dont let ur eyes fool u just cause i drove up in a car but its no even mine im as real as they come but i can be a pain if u no wat i mean but my folk came and got me cause of my livin habits such as bein on tha street havin no where to go or live u people call it homeless i call it survin but lik i saidu can have ur stuff wen i get back but please dont think im doin this cause im scared im just tiredof bullshit
he only thinks he's tired.
i've only just begun.
he admitted to taking and he's still lying because he used my check card. I want him to give me back my shit and go to jail
i can't spell check this thing cause the computer might explode
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Friends
Some people throw this word around like water.
Especially in the world today.
Teenagers mostly who meet someone in the streets or thinks someone is cute and jump immediately to " That's my friend".
Bullshit.
Friends don't grow on trees, or drop from trees like fruit.
They are not found in malls or sagging and bagging in the Marta station.
Sure you can meet people and they evolve into friends but that evolution isn't instantaneous nor does it happens over night.
It happens over time.
But who has time in this quick fix society where we change friends like cell phone providers. Where new things are so readily available and friends have actually become a liability.
I have time.
Friends are very important to me.
They are paramount in my life and I would not last in this world without my friends.
Even the newest friends know that I am still learning them and gradually they will be allowed access into those parts of me touched by few.
I have tried to teach this to my children both the children I birthed and the ones I teach.
I failed.
My own thought this person was a friend.
He offered to help her by taking her to pay her cell phone bill.
He robbed her.
His name
Marcus "Slim"
His phone number 678 913-3580 ( dial *67 if you plan to call him and ask him questions like" what kind of stupid ass fuck up is he" becuse *67 will make your call private)
His Address 23 Bay Drive, Lithonia Ga.
I even have a photo:
Now here is where senior asshole kinda fucked up.
Before I got focused and pissed I only had a first name.
But because I am pissed and focused within 20 minutes I had his address and photos.
I understand that he could be crazy and if something happens you know where to go.
But like a dog with a bone I will shake this shit up till he fucking breaks or is in prison.
It takes a community to raise a child even a fucked up one. As a community we should help to eradicate the behavior of people like this.
He plays ball at run and shoot on Metropolitan Ave.
He has my bank card and has charged shit he also stole my 5 year old son's Play Station 2.
My child learned (I hope) a valuable lesson, because she could have been raped or murdered. She broke a major rule because she thought this bastard was her friend.
Her friend is now my new best friend and I will not rest until I fucking make him miserable. Please feel free to call him up and express your displeasure if you like.
But remember *67 makes your call private!
You know you should ask youself before you fuck someone over. Questions like, "Could her Uncle be a Lawyer?, Could her other Uncle be a Detective in fucking Lithonia?, Could her Mother's friend just be some violent motherfuckers who don't mind teaching the hard lessons?, Could her mama be a little scary and crazy?"
Remember there are no stupid questions, just stupid people.
Surely I'll let it go in a minute after all tomorrow is my birthday and I can't see letting this fuck up ruin any part of it. So let's just say I have turned the matter over to some friends. Done for now!
If you want to come to my party Saturday Let me know!!!
Especially in the world today.
Teenagers mostly who meet someone in the streets or thinks someone is cute and jump immediately to " That's my friend".
Bullshit.
Friends don't grow on trees, or drop from trees like fruit.
They are not found in malls or sagging and bagging in the Marta station.
Sure you can meet people and they evolve into friends but that evolution isn't instantaneous nor does it happens over night.
It happens over time.
But who has time in this quick fix society where we change friends like cell phone providers. Where new things are so readily available and friends have actually become a liability.
I have time.
Friends are very important to me.
They are paramount in my life and I would not last in this world without my friends.
Even the newest friends know that I am still learning them and gradually they will be allowed access into those parts of me touched by few.
I have tried to teach this to my children both the children I birthed and the ones I teach.
I failed.
My own thought this person was a friend.
He offered to help her by taking her to pay her cell phone bill.
He robbed her.
His name
Marcus "Slim"
His phone number 678 913-3580 ( dial *67 if you plan to call him and ask him questions like" what kind of stupid ass fuck up is he" becuse *67 will make your call private)
His Address 23 Bay Drive, Lithonia Ga.
I even have a photo:
Now here is where senior asshole kinda fucked up.
Before I got focused and pissed I only had a first name.
But because I am pissed and focused within 20 minutes I had his address and photos.
I understand that he could be crazy and if something happens you know where to go.
But like a dog with a bone I will shake this shit up till he fucking breaks or is in prison.
It takes a community to raise a child even a fucked up one. As a community we should help to eradicate the behavior of people like this.
He plays ball at run and shoot on Metropolitan Ave.
He has my bank card and has charged shit he also stole my 5 year old son's Play Station 2.
My child learned (I hope) a valuable lesson, because she could have been raped or murdered. She broke a major rule because she thought this bastard was her friend.
Her friend is now my new best friend and I will not rest until I fucking make him miserable. Please feel free to call him up and express your displeasure if you like.
But remember *67 makes your call private!
You know you should ask youself before you fuck someone over. Questions like, "Could her Uncle be a Lawyer?, Could her other Uncle be a Detective in fucking Lithonia?, Could her Mother's friend just be some violent motherfuckers who don't mind teaching the hard lessons?, Could her mama be a little scary and crazy?"
Remember there are no stupid questions, just stupid people.
Surely I'll let it go in a minute after all tomorrow is my birthday and I can't see letting this fuck up ruin any part of it. So let's just say I have turned the matter over to some friends. Done for now!
If you want to come to my party Saturday Let me know!!!
Friday, May 19, 2006
OH BUDDY!
He's the soul food
I didn't know I needed
I was starving
and I feasted
and I'm full!
Where the fuck were you last night?
I know where you should have been.
You should have been in that place
where soul stirring
and head bobbing
Were the only things we could do
to keep ourselves in our seats
and the rhythms moved us
and we couldn't dance
but we could bob our heads
and remember our humanity
and remember how to laugh
and how to feel and how
and how
and how
and how could you miss that shit!
Don't do it again!
You have a chance to redeem yourself.
Tonight at Horizons School
Buddy Wakefield, Alice Lovelace and the Art Amok Slam Team ( Stacie B., Theresa D., Phoenix YZ, Calli Starks, Jessica Hand, and Dr. Madelyn H.)
What more do you want!!!
Tonight 8pm be there or miss out!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
This Friday!!!!!!
COME OUT AND SUPPORT ATLANTA'S MOSTLY FEMALE SLAM TEAM!!
HELP MAKE THE DREAM OF A WIN IN AUSTIN POSSIBLE!!!
ALL FUNDS SUPPORT THE ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM
ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM + ALICE LOVELACE+BUDDY WAKEFIELD(and perhaps a surprise cameo)
Buddy Wakefield!!!! Extraordinary human, poet, sometimes silly, always irreverent,2 time Individual WORLD Poetry Slam Champ http://www.buddywakefield.com/video/
FRIDAY, MAY 19th: Horizons School TheaterBetween the Candler Park & Eastlake MARTA Stations1900 DeKalb Avenue, NEAtlanta, Georgia 30307 gates open 8 P. M., show at 8.30 P.M.
$5 & donations collected for theArt Amok Austin Van fund!!!Please join us for this experience of live, performance poetry!
HELP MAKE THE DREAM OF A WIN IN AUSTIN POSSIBLE!!!
ALL FUNDS SUPPORT THE ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM
ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM + ALICE LOVELACE+BUDDY WAKEFIELD(and perhaps a surprise cameo)
Buddy Wakefield!!!! Extraordinary human, poet, sometimes silly, always irreverent,2 time Individual WORLD Poetry Slam Champ http://www.buddywakefield.com/video/
FRIDAY, MAY 19th: Horizons School TheaterBetween the Candler Park & Eastlake MARTA Stations1900 DeKalb Avenue, NEAtlanta, Georgia 30307 gates open 8 P. M., show at 8.30 P.M.
$5 & donations collected for theArt Amok Austin Van fund!!!Please join us for this experience of live, performance poetry!
Friday, May 12, 2006
TGIF
i know i shouldn't laugh.
it's early and i can't stop laughing.
i have been telling one of my students to sit in his chair,
rather than knees in the chair among other things.
he finally tells me he can't.
it seems he ate a lot of hot wings an hot sauce last night and as he put it he has "flaming butt".
I laughed a little but told him to just not be distracting.
a few minutes later i guess he forgot about his flaming butt and sat down only to jump up suddenly. i was the only one to see it from my vantage point and tried not to laugh...
i failed and ended up sitting on the floor behind my desk cracking (no pun intended) up!
then he suddenly says i need to see what's going on and went to the bathroom.
the class fell out. he also has gas and every timehe passes gas he releases a deep breath of pain....
i am so glad it's friday.
i haven't laughed this much before ten in a minute.....middle schoolers are insane!
okay, now he has gone into the kindergarten class and borrowed mats to cushin his "bum" as he puts it.
mind you this is the same kid who jumped out on a first grader, who was on his way rushing to the bathroom, and made him pee his pants.
this is some kind of bathroom karma thing.
my face hurts from laughing so much.
happy friday to me!
it's early and i can't stop laughing.
i have been telling one of my students to sit in his chair,
rather than knees in the chair among other things.
he finally tells me he can't.
it seems he ate a lot of hot wings an hot sauce last night and as he put it he has "flaming butt".
I laughed a little but told him to just not be distracting.
a few minutes later i guess he forgot about his flaming butt and sat down only to jump up suddenly. i was the only one to see it from my vantage point and tried not to laugh...
i failed and ended up sitting on the floor behind my desk cracking (no pun intended) up!
then he suddenly says i need to see what's going on and went to the bathroom.
the class fell out. he also has gas and every timehe passes gas he releases a deep breath of pain....
i am so glad it's friday.
i haven't laughed this much before ten in a minute.....middle schoolers are insane!
okay, now he has gone into the kindergarten class and borrowed mats to cushin his "bum" as he puts it.
mind you this is the same kid who jumped out on a first grader, who was on his way rushing to the bathroom, and made him pee his pants.
this is some kind of bathroom karma thing.
my face hurts from laughing so much.
happy friday to me!
Monday, May 01, 2006
Brussel Sprouts
I don't claim to be a great cook.
Hell, I don't even claim to be a good cook.
I don't even know why I like brussel sprouts and yet, I still figured out a way to burn the damn things and now, my house, well it smells like burn brussel sprouts and it's not the kind of smell that can be camouflaged with incense or air freshener.
It's a different kind of shitty smell the kind that gets into you clothes and hair.
I smell like burnt brussel sprouts.
I may even dream of burning brussel sprout crashing to the earth into my house like meteors. Enough of that.
I shall forever hence leave the burning of brussel sprouts to my children.
Then I can say things like," I can't believe you burned brussel sprout!" because that's what they said to me.
Enough of that for real now.
So I got an e-mail today from a very nice woman in Woscester ( I still don't think I'm spelling that right) who received a poem written by someone that was inspired by my brussel sprout burning ass and I want to share, because while I can't cook sprouts, maybe I can cook up a poetic feast that is inspiring to someone. I think the poem is beautiful! Full props and thanks to the poet.
The Java Hut
by Kenneth Slaughter
At 7:30 the lights go dim,
the room gets quiet,
people gather around the stage -
as if around an altar.
But this is no church
and this is no ordinary congregation.
There is a mysterious thin man
with dark glasses
scribbling something on a tablet,
noserings, orange hair,
A man wearing kilts or something.
The place is called the Java Hut
and the people appear to be from other planets.
They are here to worship poetry.
A man recites the ground rules
and reads a poem -
something about the Discovery Channel
and nature's predators
"Let's watch!" he says with ironic glee.
After this reassuring introduction
he calls my name.
I stumble to the stage ,
my poem shaking in my hands;
I start to read.
The aliens laugh, then applaud -
they are friendly after all.
I live through my first reading!
One after another
they take the stage and read their
poems- some of them funny,
all of them real.
I'm feeling good
about being here.
Then Theresa,
one of the featured poets,
reads a poem
about a real-life predator
- her own father.
I can't pretend to know
how she feels,
but I have my own pain
and her words cut through
whatever is between us
and strike my heart - like knives.
The terrible beauty of her poems
wounds me - deeply.
Afterwards
I want to hug her like a sister.
I want to tell her she hit me hard.
I want to find her a butterfly -
but I'm dumbstruck -
All I can do is stagger home
thinking
We're all in this together somehow.
Hell, I don't even claim to be a good cook.
I don't even know why I like brussel sprouts and yet, I still figured out a way to burn the damn things and now, my house, well it smells like burn brussel sprouts and it's not the kind of smell that can be camouflaged with incense or air freshener.
It's a different kind of shitty smell the kind that gets into you clothes and hair.
I smell like burnt brussel sprouts.
I may even dream of burning brussel sprout crashing to the earth into my house like meteors. Enough of that.
I shall forever hence leave the burning of brussel sprouts to my children.
Then I can say things like," I can't believe you burned brussel sprout!" because that's what they said to me.
Enough of that for real now.
So I got an e-mail today from a very nice woman in Woscester ( I still don't think I'm spelling that right) who received a poem written by someone that was inspired by my brussel sprout burning ass and I want to share, because while I can't cook sprouts, maybe I can cook up a poetic feast that is inspiring to someone. I think the poem is beautiful! Full props and thanks to the poet.
The Java Hut
by Kenneth Slaughter
At 7:30 the lights go dim,
the room gets quiet,
people gather around the stage -
as if around an altar.
But this is no church
and this is no ordinary congregation.
There is a mysterious thin man
with dark glasses
scribbling something on a tablet,
noserings, orange hair,
A man wearing kilts or something.
The place is called the Java Hut
and the people appear to be from other planets.
They are here to worship poetry.
A man recites the ground rules
and reads a poem -
something about the Discovery Channel
and nature's predators
"Let's watch!" he says with ironic glee.
After this reassuring introduction
he calls my name.
I stumble to the stage ,
my poem shaking in my hands;
I start to read.
The aliens laugh, then applaud -
they are friendly after all.
I live through my first reading!
One after another
they take the stage and read their
poems- some of them funny,
all of them real.
I'm feeling good
about being here.
Then Theresa,
one of the featured poets,
reads a poem
about a real-life predator
- her own father.
I can't pretend to know
how she feels,
but I have my own pain
and her words cut through
whatever is between us
and strike my heart - like knives.
The terrible beauty of her poems
wounds me - deeply.
Afterwards
I want to hug her like a sister.
I want to tell her she hit me hard.
I want to find her a butterfly -
but I'm dumbstruck -
All I can do is stagger home
thinking
We're all in this together somehow.
Rough Weekend!
A work in progress.......
Can You Hear Me?
Theresa Davis 2006
I want to speak to you in ways
that defy language
wave lengths of emotion to complicated to translate
but simple
traveling heart to heart
ears that hear the vibrations echoing through me
fingertips that read the braille of my thought
fingertips that sign my soul
we speak without words
without sounds
Can you hear me?
Your words drip through my veins like life support
flowing freely steady drips that sustain
keep me conscious, real
skin on fire as words flow
going straight to my head
so complicated
but simple
you
meshed to me
heart to heart
ingrained,
endeared
tender yet frightening
Can you hear me?
Lifting my face
so the sun can kiss my skin
the way you do
when we talk in silence
I know you are there
I know you care
even as you correct my behavior
as you show me the way to your heart
my tongue carefully plots through you geography
mapping the way to reach you
in that land where our words are sighs and song
where lyrics don’t apply
where syllables are non entities
because it’s simple
heart to heart
open to feel what the other feels
the way we communicate
I want it to be that way
this way
I want to tell you my stories
simply
without a single word
no words
but with a kiss......
Can you hear me?
Can You Hear Me?
Theresa Davis 2006
I want to speak to you in ways
that defy language
wave lengths of emotion to complicated to translate
but simple
traveling heart to heart
ears that hear the vibrations echoing through me
fingertips that read the braille of my thought
fingertips that sign my soul
we speak without words
without sounds
Can you hear me?
Your words drip through my veins like life support
flowing freely steady drips that sustain
keep me conscious, real
skin on fire as words flow
going straight to my head
so complicated
but simple
you
meshed to me
heart to heart
ingrained,
endeared
tender yet frightening
Can you hear me?
Lifting my face
so the sun can kiss my skin
the way you do
when we talk in silence
I know you are there
I know you care
even as you correct my behavior
as you show me the way to your heart
my tongue carefully plots through you geography
mapping the way to reach you
in that land where our words are sighs and song
where lyrics don’t apply
where syllables are non entities
because it’s simple
heart to heart
open to feel what the other feels
the way we communicate
I want it to be that way
this way
I want to tell you my stories
simply
without a single word
no words
but with a kiss......
Can you hear me?
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