Wednesday, February 22, 2006


I have had a rough day.
I could use a big ole hug,
but instead I'll just get some things off my chest.
I have been teaching for 16 years !
That's a long time.
I have watched so many kids grow, achieve and find their place in the world.
In the past few weeks I have run into so many student who wanted to thank me for being involved in their lives. I taught 2nd and 3rd grade for many years. Try 12 years.
Last week one of my former students called me to thank me for being his teacher.
These are the kinds of moments teachers live for.
He was in my class when I taught second and third.
He couldn't spell to save his life and his stick figures were anatomically correct.
Took me days to figure out what the line between the stick boys leg was
or why he drew w's on the girls. Then I figured out that they were private parts.
But rather than embarrass him I taught him to draw clothes, and color them in darkly so their private parts could not be seen.
While in my class he learned a lot.
I have high standards for my students and have only had to lower it once I began to teach middle school.
What's that about.
When he left me and went public they tested him. Entering fourth grade he tested high school level in Geography and Reading, and sixth grade level in Language, and Vocabulary.
He's been accepted to Stanford.
He's received a scholarship.
Another has a full scholarship to UGA.
Another is going to Brown, and others to Tuskegee, Boston, and Vanderbilt.
My baby girl has her Juilliard on her mind.
I am not the best at every thing I try , but I try my best at everything I do.
I love my job.
I would do it for free, if food, and shelter weren't a must to keep DFACS away.
You can say what you will about me, and you do.
I am not phased because I know that my success is seen in the success of others.
I have made the difference in the world
because I have the courage to be a teacher.
This is who I am and why I teach.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Pop Tarts

The weight has been lifted
the insecurity let out to roam wild in somebody else's backyard
it was all in my head this need to not need
because I needed even though
I didn't need to admit to you or anyone else of my need
to need or be needed
and now all I need is a nap,
and possibly a zima
oh shit, wait ,they don't make that any more
so all I need
all I really need
is a nap and possibly a hug
and definitely reassurance
some snuggling
a touch, well, there
a kiss soft and light
a little comfort
a back rub
permission to need to be needed
and wanted
and desired
an embrace so tight that
it loosens me up
and to be longed for
and put on a pedestal
but not to high
vertigo is a bitch
and no pressure
I definitely don't need that
no, all I really need
is a nap
and a pop tart
maybe two

Monday, February 13, 2006

Tootsie Poop

I knew I wasn't the only one!
When I was a kid I loved some candies.
I Loved Pay Day bars and I would suck all the peanuts off and save them for later then eat the caramel center. Yum!
There were only a few that I didn't get, candy wise, that is. Like Squirrel Nut Chews? This candy should be sold with a dental appointment card .
The one candy that I liked but couldn't eat was Tootsie Rolls.
I didn't quite know why until this week end.
My son was eating a Tootsie Roll from the goodie bag he got from a birthday party.
It's late we're on the highway headed home when he screams," Oh Yuck man I can't eat this! I gotta spit it out it's gross Mom, Mom, Mom, nasty please let me spit this out!"
"You like candy," I said.
"Not this one, Oh my god it feels like I'm eating POOP! It's slimy, Oh God Mom, Please can I spit it out! Poop, I got Poop in my mouth!"
I almost drove off the road.
I was laughing so hard I thought I would pee my pants.
That's what it was! The texture. It's all wrong and it just looks like poop. That's why I couldn't eat it as a child. He was almost in tears before Tia and I got ourselves together enough to get the tootsie poop out of his mouth.
Come on you know you have had the same thought.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Drunk and disorderly

What an insane couple of days.
Clearly I've gone to another level.
I'm not quite centered, cause that's not fun.
I'm not quite, zen, cause that's not fun.
And I have not lowered myself to strike the drunk and crazy.
Thursday's Cliterati was crashed by a woman who was beyond the legal limit.
When I got to the reading, I was met by my buddy Stacie and given the heads up about an employee who was very drunk and upset because there was a cat in the walls. She apparently spent the day drinking and trying to get the cat out and at 8pm was unsuccessful in retrieving the cat, but had the sloppy drunk part very well covered. After watching her come out of the bar and sweet Stacie going up to her to try to comfort her about the cat, where crazy (this is what I will call the inebriated one) started going off and beating the shit out of her car. My car was parked very close to hers. I say was because when crazy went back in to get her keys because, and I quote," I'm outta here. Nobody cares about the fucking cat!" I moved my shit. I'm not trying to have more damage done to orange OK. She has been through enough. Going into the bar crazy decided she wanted another drink, Jagger at that.
Can I just say here Jagger bad!
Very bad when one has been drinking it all day.
It's just bad in general.
No good comes from Jagger.
Just ask my friend who bendered on it one night and woke up with goats!
Don't ask cause what happens in the goat barn stays in the goat barn.
But I can honestly tell you he will never look at a bottle of Bad Jagger the same again.
Crazy, argues with the bartender, she decided to make her own drink.
She opens the open mic with a drunken diatribe about how she loves god, she's worked so long here, nobody care about the goddamn cat, we are all going to heaven, nobody cares about the cat.
And in the middle there was crotch grabbing (her own, thank god) and belly slapping, again her own. When she grabbed her crotch it was accented by a guttural chanting of CLITERATI. Nice.
Only 20 minutes.
It was like watching a train wreck.
I have a theory about crazy.
If you give crazy an audience.
Crazy will want an audience.
If you clap for crazy, crazy will come back.
When you see crazy coming it's best to feign invisibility.
When she finished some folks clapped.
I knew she would be back if she didn't pass out.
In the middle of a poets reading she walks up to the main power box and shuts down all the power. Walks up to the performing poet and starts going on about ,"listen to the cat can't you hear him, who the fuck cares about poetry when the cat's in the fucking wall!" She goes on louder and ruder than I could ever be then she grabs the poets pages. I stand up because I think she's going to grab this woman. She walks up on her, gets real close and I step between them. I try to walk her away from the girl and there is some shoving that happens. My friends grab me before I do something stupid like, knock the fuck out of crazy, or get knocked the fuck out by crazy and they get her out of the bar.
You never know what will happen at Cliteratti or should I say Kittyratti.
*please note
no cats were harmed in the writing of this blog.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Super Stupid

I know I'm just on hell of a nice gal and all
but when does nice cross over into dumbfuck
I am very supportive of a lot of causes and often donate my time for anything having to do with politics, children, and ending conflicts of any kind
I have even been known to perform strictly in hopes of getting laid
poet not a saint
but the day when I do a feature where I'm doing it for free plus you want me to give you 40% of the sales of any merch I might be able to push is the day
when my brain leaps from my head and seeks refuge in my ass because I would have literally become a dumb ass, a shit for brain and any other disgusting brain ass reference that can be made
what is that
do they know how much gas is
and how expensive self publishing can be
besides this group as far as I can tell have had issues with my words
can I not curse or can I not say the f word
sometimes when shit is fucked up
fucked up is the only way to describe said shit
they want to use me a friend says
they want young blood
clearly they have no idea how old I am
she says, they know you promote the shit out of yourself and you could provide them with a crowd
I ask
is there even remotely a chance of getting laid ( here only half joking)
is there any chance that there will be any she's like me or any one not politically constipated
or socially repressed
or, or, or
she said, " "
yeah, that's what I thought
so I think I will pass for the time being
and can I just say that some video games should not be made into movie
doom is crap
they are not even blowing up enough shit to keep me interested
I want my money back

Monday, February 06, 2006

more stupid

Ok so know there are mumblings
that people want to protest Bush tomorrow
let me just say
if someone planned a protest at my funeral.....
I would be pissed
and yes I am aware that I would be dead
but my level of pistivity would be supernatural pissy
and Dr. King would not protest, no matter what you think
he would mourn his wife
plan a protest at a funeral


Okay, I don't get it
and it doesn't make me less black
nor does it make me less unpatriotic,
as if anyone were afraid of that,
but I don't understand why
we are taking the day off of school tomorrow
I don't get it
okay Coretta died,
Bush is coming,
so no school
it occurs to me that Ms. King would be more honored if
every child in the state
especially those who are homeless
and have not had the benefit of school
actually be in school
to me that would be more fitting
but you know what the fuck do I know
I'm just a teacher
already slightly frustrated by the fact that we only have 180 days
to prepare these children and we are adding more and more time off
and when the fuck did Sonny Perdu become such a strong supporter of the civil rights movement
oh I know when, when he remembered the elections are rounding the corner
fucking politicians


I am still not on the planet!
I have never experienced anything like that!
I haven't properly slept in five days. I am in love with several poets including Andrea, Paulie and Katie from Denver. Also Joaquine, Alex, and a host of others. Buddy Wakefield makes me smile!