Saturday, December 24, 2011

If multiple choice is an option pick "c"

She is praying for snow. I admire her faith but that shit is just not going to happen. It's interesting this will be the second Christmas Eve we've spent together, no closer to building, maybe further away from breaking. Time will tell. "What do the lonely do at Christmas" is playing in the background. Her jam, and I'm not sure what my role is now. I mean we are together? Should I be offended or not give a damn....questions? I won't ask.if I do there could be a fight or "disagreement" and I would like to get laid. So, tongue secured in cheek I will not comment. See, you can teach an old dog, or cougar, new tricks.

I packed poorly. There are no clothes in my bag. Toothbrush, socks, underwear, pj's, a bullet and batteries....what the fuck..oh, yes please! One track mind, yes that would be the track and look my mind just moving and hoping no one sees me wearing the same clothes I had on Friday on Sunday. Oops.

I finally decided on a title for my book. If you didn't know, I will be published by Sibling Rivalry Press may 2013. I'm pretty fucking excited about that. You should be too and then you should buy my book. The writing of the title poem is bringing up shit not sufficiently suppressed. Damn my brain. The poem will not look like itself when I'm done if I keep edit hacking it to pieces. So I'm going to let it simmer.

My best friend called. I invited her over. Cozy, fire in the fireplace, did I mention my girl is hoping for snow.? That shit better NOT happen. It was good. Everyone behaved an I was wearing pj's, glad she called first .. Hello!

Now we are going to watch a movie. We always try to watch a movie. Sometimes we finish, but I'm feeling frisky so..that may not the snow.

Happy holidays!!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

11/30 Speak No Evil Especially If Its The Truth

(this will be a recurring theme, like therapy, i need it out of me)

I’ve been holding my tongue
Deep in the recesses of my cheeks
The words they hold could rock a world
Remove a stain
And set my spirit free

But freedom isn’t mine right now
I am locked in the gravitational pull
Of the pupils in my students eyes
I want to walk the walk with them
Until we are forced to walk in different directions

Don’t want to be the lair that said they’d be there then they weren’t

Don’t want to be the false prophet that said I got your back before you felt the blade

If I be the last vestige of truth in our world for just a little while longer
I’ll take the just a little while longer

Lace my words with metaphor and white truths
So faint they’ll barely recognize themselves

Hold to the shadows
Only let you see me in daylight

I have killed nothing beautiful here
So they cannot call me ugly

I have said nothing that is not true
But still they call me liar

So I will hold my tongue

The one that bites and stings
The one that tears down what disappoints
The one they will dress in slanders old clothes

I will hold it because my children need me

The ones who once called my womb home
And the ones on loan to me

I have your back
Even if my hands cover my mouth

10/30 For Lorraine

For Lorraine
(On the tenth anniversary of your absence)

I'd like to tell you that your wishes were granted
That the foundation you set is stable
And the seeds you broadcasted took root
In rich soil and grew tall reaching towards the future
I'd like to tell you all these things
But, they would be lies,
And lying is an art I've never mastered

If I were a liar
I suppose I could say that the adventure playground
Still thrives that the swimming pool and parking lot are only
Figments of our wilting imagination
I could say that the peace garden
The perennials are bright and bold
And the tiles painted and fired still boast the names
Of those who've passed and still shout hopes
For the future
Set in mortar by tiny hands
And their proud work stands in tack
Not in pieces

The buildings are not falling a part
And wildlife has not become
More important than the human minds
Who occupy that building
Where there was once a waterfall
In the library, that flowed for three whole years
That empowerment is still the bread we feed ourselves
And the children daily
We eat heartily
Our bellies filled with insight and inspiration

I would tell you that integrity is still paramount here
That doing what's right is not considered insubordination
That undermining and too many cooks in the kitchen
Is not the reality
That what is needed is always granted
And your ten-year
Hiatus has not left dreams destitute and malnourished
Because the foundation was set
And the right thing is always the right thing
Even though the right thing has not shown its face

I'd tell you that those who remember
Still look for you
Those who remember
Still look out of their windows some days
And see you twirling in the light rain
Hands open and raised to the heavens
Willing it to wash away and renew
And those who remember
Held on to the memories
Until they were yanked out from under us
In the form of lies and letters
Written by those who never knew you
Those who come after this may never know you existed

I would tell you
There was an award once in your honor
I won't tell you that they spelled your name wrong
I won't speak of coroners vans and HAZMAT teams
I won't discuss the disconnect
Or the drunken strong holds unsteady on their feet

I will tell you instead
That those you brought into the fold
Will remain as long as they can
Deflected as much as they can
And hold on to your ideas and philosophies
Despite the abridged versions
You can get on line
But never in the palm of your hand

I will tell you
That though we were not agreed in all things
We disagreed more often than not
I understood when you remarked that some people
Should not work with small children
This is why you didn't work with small children
Why you chose those who could put them in place
The main part still rings true
Some people should not work with small children

I will tell you
That I know you had no idea you would leave so soon
But if you had put your wishes on paper
Willed them to those left behind
Maybe I wouldn't have to recount the last ten years
To you with lies and half-truths
That become whole in the retelling

They don't remember you here
There in no room for what worked
But when I leave
And I am being forced to leave
So I will go, but,
I will remember and take the parts worth preserving

See in order for this new way to work
The old ways have to be removed
Especially those who bark too loud
And bite too hard
I am loud, and my bite leaves marks

I believe you knew this day would come
I believe you tried to warn me
And the others

We are listening now

I'd like to tell you that
Things will be better when we, like you
Leave this place we tried to hold onto

I'd like to tell you all these things
But, they would be lies
And lying is an art I've never mastered

Thursday, November 17, 2011


It's amazing the things people focus on. How people and institutions can so easily blame others for the state of their own houses. If you business, is your business, then it seems to me that you would handle your business. So many people stirring the same pot somethings sure to go wrong. I only hope that before it all goes bad you refocus on the mission. Understand that if you continue in this way, you will bring your own house down.
Sad really.

Monday, November 14, 2011

9/30 Carnival

What it was like before this
was confusing
like running through sand
walking on water
you misrepresented your intentions
put me on the back burner
left me simmering until I burned for you
you never wanted this
what you wanted was supplicant
I never was good at that
but you pushed and pulled me off course
you are something like a enigma
a puzzle
and I am good at those
but I am not good at you
we both know it
but we insist on trying to tug of war ourselves
into the present
I presented myself as what I was
you liked it
until you didn't
but it's what we knew
We knew what would happen
right here right now
what are you doing right now?
Not me because I'd notice
I can't pretend we weren't pretending
we seem to do that well and we will probably do it again
and again
we are merry-go-round love
circling each other like so many vultures
we are thick like thieves
and our bones hold more meat than most could handle
we handled each other
let the scavengers feast

Thursday, November 10, 2011

8/30 We Sing Because They Make Us

I do some of my best work in my head.
When the ideas hit I move sometimes in the middle of the night.
My charges ages 5-10 tolerate my moods.
The ebb the flow at my discretion.
They complain and they share, especially the shit you don't want to know.
I would never suggest mixing kindergartners with third grades,
but it couldn't be help and I am good at what I do. I called it a challenge.

I would make the experience move through music.
I can't sing but my assistant could.
So they would too.
They would sing because I would make them.

It was rough, but as the year came to a close
I wanted to go out with a bang!
Do something never done before.
The ideas stalled and left me blank.

Then BAM!
I got it!
We would form a band, record the songs and do a concert for their parents!!
The project flowed and the Horizons Harmonics was born!

I got us an interview at the community radio station and for an hour they talked to the kids and played our tape. A tour! We would have a tour! We performed at Mars Music in front of a confused crowd. The kindergarten twins thought we should be paid.

The day before the concert. I was a wreck. Told them there would be a reception.
Every parent donated food and one bought us a case of non-alcoholic champagne.
I go to bed. I have an epiphany at 1 in the morning. To the store graham crackers, gold spray paint and a hot glue gun. The cashier didn't ask. I didn't tell.

I spray painted the graham crackers gold, and hot glued them on to black mat board and scripted each child's name in gold paint.

When I presented them, parents cried and I was pronounced as THE SHIT!!!
Then I sold the tape to parents for 5 bucks a pop and the proceeds financed the end of the year trip.

Epic ideas don't come everyday, but when they do, you might find yourself spray painting graham crackers in the driveway at 3 am! Just go with it.

7/30 Imani


Your birth was more than memorable.
My first child, you would be the pure, the best of me.
You were late.

It was like you said, “I’ll be born when I want to!
Who are you and what do you want?
The apartment is paid for.
Thirty-six weeks is a suggestion,
I can stay longer if I want and I want!”

I went into labor with you at a play.
The 14th Street playhouse, the play,
It was great; grandma was involved, so you know it was great.

When the first twinges grabbed me, my mother
Let me know that pregnancy and childbirth was not like in the movies.
“Yes, you are having contractions
but it could take hours and
I am on a panel with Ruby Dee
and Ossie Davis so, hold tight.”

I held tight.

Red beans and rice, midnight. I couldn’t help myself.
They laughed. All of them.
Me clutching my stomach, your home, hobbling through the house.
When I got there, to the hospital, your doctor no where in sight.
It was supposed to be all Zen and well, Zen.
The nurses were tripping.
The stand in doctor an Asian man with the last name of Gonzales.
I laughed, you laughed later when I told the story,
I mean it was funny, despite the pain.

My mistake was yelling at the nurses.
Telling them how I heard about switching babies.
Checking your birthmarks and other distinguishing marks.
This could be why they left me in a hallway after
birth, freezing and damn near feverish.
Meanwhile they dressed you in ribbons and bows
showing your beautiful self to the other patients.

When I saw you.
My heart doubled back on its self.
You were so beautiful that secretly,
I hoped you looked like me.

Twenty – three years later.
You are making your way.
You always accepted the me ,
who is me,
no matter how uncomfortable I made everyone around us.
I don’t hold my tongue;
you know this and love me anyway.

I wish you the world.
All shiny and sharp and confusing.

You are my child, you got this,
you will work it the way it suits you.
I know that you know that I love you.
You can do no wrong in my eye.

Do the damn thing!

Make your mark!
Make me proud, like you already have!

My baby is in the world now.
The possibilities are endless!

Give them hell, take names and call me
so we can talk about the fall out.

Rock the world baby.
Because that’s what your momma intends to do.
Later, we will compare notes.
I rock, because you rocked me first.

Your Momma!

6/30 Pop Tart Love an erotic tale of hot damn!!!

Pop Tart Love an erotic tale of hot damn!!!

I put you in my mouth
Savored and exalted your praise
The way you fit
The way you teased
I thought I knew your name
Remembered you from a fling in the past
You’d changed your packaging
And once released from your holdings you
Took hold of me had your way with my taste buds

These children
They have now idea
They tell me you are gross
I tell them watch their mouths
They snicker
They stare
They are jealous
And they should be

The toaster is close but I wanted you raw
Wanted you in the palm of my hand
You wanted it too
And if you had a mouth I am sure you’d say it
But talk is cheap
And this coffee cup won’t fill itself
Right next to the toaster
I pop in your twin

These children
They are so........ them
They insist I’m going to burn you
Just because I burned something the day before
They know nothing of our relationship
And I am sure that if you had ears
You’d ignore them as well

You are so hot!
I can barely hold you
Burning the tips of my finger
My tongue
You are the shit!!!
And if you were a person
Had a face and a pulse
Some lips I could nibble
A chin would be nice
If you had feet or legs
Or a torso
Or arms
I imagine you’d hold me like I am holding you now
And if you had a gender
You could be the woman of my dreams
But in reality
You are a tickle to m fancy
A memory remembered

You are some damn good taste bud loving
And the best thing
Is that there are seven other pairs of you
Waiting for me
At home
You might be jealous
If you had feelings and a heart
And fingers so you could point them at me
Or flip me the bird
I promise
I will love your sisters
No less than I loved you

Pumpkin Pie Pop Tarts
A love affair begins…
For a limited time
Or at least that’s what it said on the box!

Friday, November 04, 2011

4/30 Menopause, not the musical, but the rhyme-y rant

Menopause, not the musical, but the rhyme-y rant

This body is a temple
in the throws of global warming
the changes come without a warning
sweat on brows continuously forming
clothes are cloying insulation
they keep the heat hide the hearts loud palpitations
it is illegal to be naked in places open to the public
but there are times when I really contemplate wearing my birthday suit saying fuck it they tell me that it's early not full on pause
I say "What! It's gonna get worst?" then I calmly retract my claws
you're telling me we can put shit in space and gps my every move
but you can't come up with an internal ac unit that will cause my skin to cool
I swear to God every time I flash I lose memories and brain cell
but I am woman, I am stronger so I'll deal, what the hell
but I guarantee if this was a condition that was experienced by a man
they'd figure out a solution as fucking quick as they fucking can

I know I seem ill tempered and maybe a little hot
That's the point "I Am" I'm going through're not!

Thursday, November 03, 2011

Hands 3/30


It starts with a touch. One that excites and aggravates.
Smooth like lines on parchment. Searching for secrets
tucked between folds. My name in your mouth a breath held
spoken into the locks that circle my head. A crown.

I am a queen here. Locked in your embrace. Hold me to the light,
watch me shine and sparkle. Diamonds. Moans like music
we dance.

Slow at first. The momentum increases your eyes are glass.
We slide and shimmer. My mouth turns dirty. The words all
guttural and stain. I don't believe my own ears.

You ask me what I want. Pandora's box opens. Just enough to
let simple sins flow out in tangles of sheets and palms. We become
elastic. Stretching more than intentions. We bend like willows,
roll like waves. Crash and break.

Holding like notes. We are an opera. We are a memory in the making.
Shaking leaves we fall forever.

It started with a touch.

2/30 Rant

Loyalty is a myth here
Like truth and honesty
The words instill a kind of fear
Like accountability and suicide
Sanctioned by those who are to busy
Paying attention to things unimportant
Like sealing envelopes and coffee
Lies flow like steady smiles and shaking hands
Like you need to start something to start something
There was a time when the bottom line was safety and
A sense of peace
Now it's a time of questions like
Is it safe for children to play in chicken shit?
And does anyone know what integrity means?
And how far do you follow someone on the wrong path?
And if this is for everyone why isn't yours here?
The questions that will never be answered
Because nobody care except the ones that do
But they be labeled villain
because they hold the truth too close
Don't put that in your mouth
you don't know where that lie has been
We never asked your opinion
I mean we did but we didn't like what you said
So we'll just pretend it never happened
You never asked for that this is the first I've hear
Four faces flush
They recognize this lie
Hopes no one notices
But they do..back pedal
Change the topic
Shift the blame
Have a cookie
Were you drunk on that field trip?
What did the judge say?
Is the carpet clean?
Does it still smell like death?
Are you sure about that time?
Are you sure about that time?

November 30/30 #1

  Saturday Night Live
We often squatted there.
The bed just a queen but we all fit so it feels king sized.
Family time in the room with the biggest television
happened nearly every Saturday night.
Tonight, Michael Jackson and Diana Ross will be singing to us.
A special night. We get to stay up late.
My sister worries a loose tooth.
It is so loose that it moves whenever she takes a breath.
In and out it wiggles there like a threat.
My brothers play checkers on one edge of the bed.
The younger brother lives for the triple jump.
"King me!" he yells wanting everyone to know of his victory.
They've been playing all day.
He hasn't won a single game.
He wears hope like a Boy Scout badge.
His eyes are glazed, he will fall asleep before the game is over.
The boyfriend soon to be father begs the younger daughter
with the loose tooth to let him pull it out.
She screams like she is on fire.
The older daughter reads Tiger Beat magazine
waiting for her future husband Michael
to smile at her from the glow of the television screen.
Soon she will be old enough to marry.
He will see her and fall in love.
He will, as long as Diana is not around.
The older brother leaves the room for a potty break.
When he returns the younger brother has fallen asleep fingers on his king.
The younger daughter with the loose tooth has also fallen asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father taps the older sister on the shoulder.
Places a finger across his lips, points at the sleeping girl.
He pulls the tooth so easily the girl never moves.
The older daughter, older brother, mom and boyfriend soon to be father
giggle behind their palms.
Michael and Diana are singing now.
The older daughter has tears in her eyes.
She wishes Diana would stop touching her one day husband.
The younger daughter stirs. She wakes.
She staggers to the bathroom for a potty break.
The toilet flushes she turns on the faucet to wash her hands.
She screams like she is on fire.
Grabs at her throat.
Says she swallowed her tooth and now the tooth fairy won't come
and she thinks she's going to die.
The younger brother jerks awake.
Fingers still clutched around the checkers.
He takes a triple jump.
Declares himself the winner and falls back asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father grabs up the younger sister.
Shows her her tooth.
She smiles a shaky smile. Thanks god she is not going to die.
Demands to be tucked in for bed.
She doesn't want to piss the tooth fairy off by making her wait.
The older boy puts the checkers in the box. He puts the game away.
He wakes the younger brother. He will deposit him on the lower bunk
Before he climbs to the top.
The older daughter kisses Michael goodnight.
There are six posters of him on the walls of her bedroom.
His face is kissing level on each.
She sleeps with Tiger Beat under her pillow.
Thoughts of MJ dancing in her head.
The mother and the boyfriend soon to be father
tidy up and ready themselves to do what grown folks do in the dark.
The house is quiet again.
Another Saturday night put to bed.

Sunday, October 09, 2011

in the future

You would think I'd be all freaked out about leaving, or being asked to leave, a job I have worked for over twenty years but I'm not. I have never been willing to jump through the hoops and ever since I received the email where I was told I was being insubordinate for taking a community issue to the community my view on this matter has become quite clear.

I was hired to empower children. You don't empower a child by not being completely honest with the child and the parents about the services you can or cannot provide. I have had to argue this issue with the powers that be and have been left in the past to think I was off? I think in my secret heart I kept hoping that the program would get back on track but at this point without a complete restructuring from the top down, it won't every get back on track.

Things are moving on though. I am finally back on track in my classroom. The weeks of disrespect and undermining are almost behind me. And my students finally get that,"why yes consequences exists and they exists for everyone." I hate that they had to go through that. It was most disturbing. The disruptor literally put his hands on everyone of them in an act of violence and were basically shown that they weren't important enough for something to be done about it. That is not cool and to add insult to injury he is still on campus. I am not at all surprised I mean the person in charge is the same person who told me, when one of his employees put her hands on my child, that I should get over it and let it go. I actually had to threaten to press charges and have her arrested on campus before anything was done. Fuckery. Right?

In my dreams, my last year was going to be all fun and no drama.....ooops. But I have seven months to to fill and I plan to fill it with fun.

My family has started a business. So even when I leave the classroom I will still be working in the arena of education. Very exciting times these are and I am so ready for it. Just environment where children's needs are met, no one dies, and no one with a DUI is driving them around town.... And there are no llamas and chickens and ducks..oh my!


The damn of it all

I don't get it. I mean I know what it is to be hurt. I even know what it is to expect to be hurt. What I don't get is making something out of nothing then not being willing to adit that you are wrong. I am wrong a lot. I tell my students constantly don't be afraid to make mistakes, but then learn from them, and try not to make the same mistake twice and keep it pushing.

Now don't get me wrong I can be as self righteous as the next guy, but come on. When it comes down to it if I'm wrong I'm wrong and I will admit to it. Eating crow from time to time is a part of being human. Wrap that shit in bacon and add some sauce, call it dinner or a light snack and keep on going.

I'm not sure I can keep doing this on again off again bullshit. I'm not too keen on being called a liar to my face especially when being quite honest. She accuses me of cheating. I stopped cheating when I stopped getting married. I honestly don't have time to work in more extra, extra curricular activities and gave up one night stands many years ago.

I don't work well with insecure people, in relationships. I am not quiet or closeted and I get a lot of attention from other people. If you are thinking that I have slept with every person who greets me, hugs me, or tags me in a picture on Face Crack then you are doing too much and I'm good. But I am not that damn good even on my best day. I am not into conquests and respect women far too much to become a womanizing woman.I can appreciate that she has trust issues but I don't appreciate the attempt to make those issues mine.

The suck of it is that I was finally starting to relax the walls carefully placed to protect my heart and damn if they aren't flying up again. And part of me wonders if that is it. Is it easier to pursue someone who you think might reject you as opposed to someone who really might want to make a life with you? Do you destroy it so that you can tell yourself that it would have happened anyway?

Fuckery I tell you!

Monday, September 19, 2011

the jist of it

Today was their chance to impress me. They kinda dropped the ball on that one. They think they are so clever and charming when in actuality they are just rude as hell. As they have no sense of humor they mistake everything for humor. I had to explain to them that if they really thought that putting someone else down in order to get a chuckle from someone they barely like themselves was funny, they were wrong. It wasn't funny just sad. In a class full of difference and misfits, I am always shocked when they don't recognize that the way they treat people is the way thy were treated and they didn't find the receiving all that groovy. But boy do they dish it out. My next plan I think is to seee if they can take it. My money says they can't.

We celebrated National Talk Like a Pirate Day in our customary way a trip to Pirate Cove! Putt-putt golfing at it's best. So much water surrounds the pirate ship run a ground so many colorful balls were lost in the drink. The occasional cannon firing scared the he'll out of a few and my laughter wasn't wasted, or withheld. I giggled loudly! I expected them to lose their minds a bit on the course but still watched for their mean ways and found them.

We usually bombard the Steak and Shake, they were not ready. When I asked for a table for fifteen, I thought the waitresses head was going to spin. Took her over fifteen minutes to get herself together and get us a damn table. They were fine in the restaurant, mostly because I threatened the hell out of them. They made a mess. It was milkshake happy hour so we got a nice discount and our waitress got a big fat tip!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011


My school year thus far has been a hot mess. So much so that I was forced to remove my rose tinted glasses. I know that the support from my administration has been less and less in the last ten years but even knowing this it still feels like a slap. I follow the rules and procedure but with all of my years experience with classroom management when there is no accountability eventually the sickness will trickle down and infect. I despise apathy. I despise even more than apathy undermining, and yet, I find myself caught in the muck and mire of both. I can't even be mad at the student, whose behavior was so far off the fucking chain, for taking advantage of the advantages given to him. If I could break all the rules, add some violence, and very scary behavior, get sent to the office and watch as nothing happened. I too, would feel the power in that and exploit it. Why not? I mean if folks are just giving power away, hell yes, I want mine. But this is not how you empower children, not in any productive way. And while it gave him a false sense of power it showed me how little administration respected me as a teacher, a woman and a human. I knew I'd learn the most in my last year.

So now I have to reign in the others who think that as long as they don't do what he did they can do whatever. Really? My in-house discipline will teach them otherwise. I will have my last year and enjoy it, and it will be the last thing I do in my current employment.

What happens next?
I have no Idea. But I am unafraid and excited to see myself on the other side.

Sunday, June 05, 2011

Bad Theresa

I shall be back in the mix soon like real soon...

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

18/30 Fire and Brimstone #1

~in 1979 a fire burned everything we owned. we saved my mom's poetry, my sister saved the Jello and my brother and I were run out by firemen because we kept entering the burning apartment trying to save shyt.~

I’ve never been afraid of fire.

I've never gazed into its flames mesmerized

by it’s movement. I have a respect for it

a loving respect. I understand its purpose

be it to purify or destroy. The way it breathes

and grows consuming everything

within it’s path it reminds me of some people.

I have only met one fire I didn’t appreciate.

Not because you weren’t beautiful,

you were.

But what you were consuming

was the empire I built.

In 1979 you had no idea

the challenge I posed to my parents,

me this obstinate child

so intelligent I used it against them.

Later they will appreciate my ingenuity,

back then

not so much.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

17/30 Sweet Nothings

17/30 Sweet Nothings

Eyes clouded smoke
Roaming over dampened skin
Sweat soaked and pure
Seeping in and out of pores
Breathing hard and in unison
Shocks to our system
Rearranging the norms
Sharp, jagged ready to open
Our reflection a moving photograph
Hearts spun like sugar
Sticky sweet
Our fingers slick with it

16/30 that brazen hussy

16/30 that brazen hussy

I waited for you
lately it seems that’s all I do
my job
these days
is waiting
for you

you make me crazy
fits of frenzied pissed off energy
and I am beginning to think
you like that about me
you like that you can make me this way
all stung out and needy
edge of my seat anticipation
as I wait
for your arrival

you’ve got some sadist in you, baby
some torture
some pure fucked up notion
of how important
you have become to me
you think I won’t leave
won’t make you wait
won’t sit in silence
I don’t see your fine ass

you think you’ve got me
wrapped around your
metaphorical finger

I think you’re right

the way I leave the light on
leave my door ajar
pretending to sleep
when you slip between thoughts
my body wide open for your entry

you think you can come
and go
when you want to
make my emotions your revolving door

you think I can’t live without you
that I can’t formulate
a single thought
around my pens and pencils
if you’re not right there with me

I waited for you
for days and counting
I’m still waiting
and just when I give up
figure you’d call or text to let me know
when you might think
you might
think to stop by
you just show up?

How the fuck you gonna just show up?
after you ignored me for so long
not only do you
show up
you try to have
your way with me
in front of people?

no foreplay
no sweet nothings
you just ambush me
from behind
make me the pillow princess
in full view of company
take my hand
wrap it around the shaft of you
and scribble away your purpose

brazenly finding my clean sheets
caressing me with gentle moans
cloying words

my eyes searching
to see who sees you
forcing me
to be rude
when others are speaking
clutching at you
like I can keep you here
knowing I can’t ignore you
the way you ignore me
wanting to read what you’re saying
even though
I’m sitting
and that poet
on the mic
has noticed your hands all over me

quickly I scribe the bones
of what you whisper
take your hand from my heart
stop us in our tracks

how you just gon show up at the open mic?
and start dictating your intentions
I consider
excusing myself to the bathroom
so we can finish
but you’ve lost your taste
for the subtle unassuming quickie
and I’ll look crazy
with pen and notebook tucked under arm
to go pee

so I ignore you
knowing full well
you may not come back for days

I have to give it to you
I do hate the way you make me wait
but I do love it when you come

you fucking tease

15/30 showers and nonsense

15/30 showers and nonsense


He screams so loud from the shower I fear he’s fallen and can’t get up. I damn near break a hip trying to clear the couch and the doorframe to aid him. I throw the bathroom door open breathlessly and shout, “Are you ok?” He peeks around the shower curtain. Asks why I’m breathing so hard and I glare at him. “What is it Zion?” He has heard the tale of the boy who cried wolf so many times I don’t care to repeat it again. Besides, he knows if he calls me, I will come because it’s my job. Damn he knows me well.

“Can I talk to you as a teacher?”

“Sure” I catch my breath hips resting on the sink breathing in the steam of his shower.

“Is the skin on my head the same as the skin on my body?”


“Hey Mom!”

“Yes Zion.”

“Are you mom or teacher?”

“Dude I am here, what is it now?”

“Mom, why do we have eight bottles of shampoo?”

“Hair has to be washed. I have a lot of hair. I need a lot of shampoo.”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. With so much shampoo why do you have the soap? Shampoo is soap? And we have a lot of it. So I am going to shampoo my body with the soap that is shampoo.”


“Are you going to say that soap is different? This shampoo says that it leaves your hair silky, shiny and smooth. I am a mammal. I am covered with hair. I would like it to be silky, shiny and smooth. You got a problem with that?”

“Uh, no. will you make sure that you are squeaky clean?”

“How you do that?”

“Well, I guess you would run your hand over your skin until it kinda.. well skips.”

“Like jumps up a little?”


“Oh Yeah!!! I’m clean!! Says here I have to lather, rinse, repeat.”

“Yeah, you should do that.”

“Oh, yeah!! Thanks MOM!! I’m repeating!!”

“Glad to be of service.”

I notice when I leave there is no towel. I smile, knowing in about five minutes he will be yelling my name like his head is on fire. I won’t run this time. I’ll make him wait. It’s not true cleanliness unless your skin is pruned.;)

14/30 on politics

14/30 on politics

Back room
Frying the fat
King maker
Lame duck
New broom
Old guard
Party boss
Party chairman
Party hack
Party line
Pork barrel
Smoke-filled room
Smoking gun
Special interest group
Yellow journalism

Sunday, April 17, 2011

13/ 30 all are welcome, well that is if you’re from here, but you’re not

13/ 30 all are welcome, well that is if you’re from here, but you’re not

when was there ever a time
when melanin skinned folks
were afraid to walk the land
afraid to show their skin
blood pumping through veins
loaded into boats
walked off of cliffs
living large
in the land of opportunity
interment camps
Ellis island
a gift from France
holding lamp light
with the threat of freedom
stars and bars
stripes of red hash marks lips
whip sting
boarder patrol
dead hands around necks
avoid eye contact
yes sir
no sir
the side of your mouth hungry
skin kissed from sun
everybody here
is from some place else
the minority
has become the majority
so cut out the fat
show me your papers
show me your bootstraps
show me your England
your Irish
your Sony
“Welcome to Moe’s”
the way to a country
is through it’s stomach
unless you can find
the soft spot
tortilla flesh
show me your papers
so I can borrow your charm
adopt your mannerisms
your diet
your style
point me to the nearest tanning bed
the nearest landscaped property
so authentic
so quaint
“Well that’s Un-American,” he says
and I want to ask him
if he’s ever seen a map
ever noticed how America
has a north
and south
how we all Americans here
that what he really wants to say
is United States-ian
but the united in that sentiment
sounds like a punch line
sung from sea to shining sea
and that the animal
who would call himself such a thing
as United States-ian
doesn’t exist
never would exist
I mean hasn’t he noticed
that everyone here
is from some place else
show me your papers

12/30 one lump or two

Those people in glass houses. They drink their tea from short mugs. Earl Grey with strings attached. They have forgotten the gravity of rocks. Prefer their tea like their views watered down devoid of flavor. Stale biscuits old mentality proving you can’t take the slave owner out of master. Can’t make you bigger than the bigger that is they. Spin lies like webs of interests they are not interested in. Your truths have no place in their house of glass so thick they can only be seen through if you don’t squint. Pinky finger arched good manners crooked ties. Words disguised as fact, not meant to be taken as factual, meant to be taken with cream white washed by the new would be minority. Fear runs ramped in the house of glass the house of mixed messages. They cup their short mugs with two hands careful not to spill a drop.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

11/30 Going on a Bender

11/30 Going on a Bender

I consider the boots. The way they mold to calf and step. The way they add a little extra to my stride. When I don the hat, I am careful to tilt it so it nearly covers my right eye. The glue applied carefully to my upper lip will hold the hair cut from my own head. Maybe I’ll wear a goatee today and sideburns. The corset will confuse some, but I don’t bend for them, so I don’t give a shit. I'll ignore the murmurs or maybe I won’t. The way I figure if they are talking about me, judging me their would be bully voices aren’t turning someone else’s questioning skin black and blue. There are those who care so much what others think of them they contort their spirits into people they hate. I never understood that. I have grown into my defiance. Long gone are the days when my response to people who said “You don’t look like a girl” was to pull down my pants make sure my pieces were still there. If you are going to tell me what I look like don’t be a pussy coward and stomp off when I report my vagina is still in tack. What I look like is only relevant to me. I am not your Barbie doll. I am my Barbie Doll. I own dresses, jeans, men’s suits and camisoles. I have been known wear lace, vinyl, mesh, strap ons and chaps, sometimes all at the same time. All it means is that I am different on different days. I am I the way I want to be in the moment. I am minding my business not tending to others. I do understand those who haven’t found that freedom, it makes me sad but, I understand. So, today I’ll wear the boots, the goatee and corset. I will tilt my hat, make sure my sideburns are sort of the same size and line up the pin-stripes in my men’s suit. Today I will change the gender in all of my poems. I will bend my poem, because they belong to me like my wardrobe, my opinions, and my insane sense of style. Thanking my lucky stars that my parents knew the world would try to box me up and lock me down. So they made my skin, my mind a key.

Monday, April 11, 2011

10/30 Pickles and Peppermints

10/30 Pickles and Peppermints
*for Dennis who understood the subtle beauty of a pickle stuffed with peppermints! the 70's in the hood, what else need be said;-)

The first boy who kissed me
Received a punch in the chest
But I let him sit next to me in the lunchroom
Let him share my Oreo
Didn’t let him have the cream
I wasn’t that easy then

The first boy who kissed me
Received a punch in the chest
And soon learned to move quickly
In and out of coat rooms
He left notes in my pockets daily reassurances
I always checked yes

The first boy who kissed me
Received a punch in the chest
Complained that I never let him catch me when we played tag
Suggested I run slower act like a girl
I whirled on him
He spit dirt for ten minutes

The first boy who kissed me
Received a punch in the chest
Became jealous when I got picked before him at dodge ball
Told the other boys to stay away from me
Told them I belonged to him
I showed him my fist, asserted my freedom
Then helped him wash the blood off his shirt

The first boy who kissed me
Received a punch in the chest
Left a Valentine on my desk one February
Right next to a bagged pickle and peppermints
The other girls only got chocolate
It felt like love

The first boy who kissed me
Received a punch in the chest
Then one weekend went fishing with his father
There was a problem with the boat
Bodies fell into the water
And the first boy who kissed me

He forgot to float

Saturday, April 09, 2011

9/10 chosen (delirium)

9/10 chosen

pale sheets
twisted wet
heartbroken snow
heart on the back of my tongue
face to screen
shaking voice
sliding sideways
feeling skin
waiting for dark
smooth and rough
forward fingers
backwards glances
more than what you know
what do you know
you know
folding in on yourself
there is no clean air
leave out the bad parts
you broken record
look away
old worn out
voice streaked in pain
it hurts to move
move on
stepping on shadows
in and out of nothing
you are bruised fruit
greenish yellow
sallow sickly
no one notices
sallow sickly
greenish yellow
you are bruised fruit
in and out of nothing
stepping on shadows
move on
it hurts to move
voice streaked in pain
old worn out
look away
you broken record
leave out the bad parts
there is no clean air
folding in on yourself
you know
what do you know
more than what you know
backwards glances
forward fingers
smooth and rough
waiting for dark
feeling skin
sliding sideways
shaking voice
face to screen
heart on the back of my tongue
heartbroken snow
twisted wet
pale sheets

8/30 Waxing and Waning

8/30 Waxing and Waning

jogger dude
your girl
she’s cute
her virtue is not
at risk
I just drive in my car
the world blurs around me
the light turns red
I stop
sometimes I look
through the window
see the world on the other side
of the glass
I wasn’t looking
your girl
she was just there
wearing shorts
from the eighties
mooning me
and the world around her
I like the moon
I gazed
it wasn’t a full moon
so my eyes didn’t linger
you checked out the view
much as I did
saw it as something to covet
not share
whispered in her ear
made her blush
and turn away
when she turned back
her eyes met mine
she blushed some more
I smiled
waved my appreciation
you glared
I guess you thought it was scary
you sure showed me
the light turned green
I go
notice my eyes
weren’t the only ones
the others
they seemed disappointed

7/30 Because patriarchal anything is BAD! (Rant)

It is bad enough
that our bodies have been stripped down
to fit some status quo
our bodies rape-able
our cervixes scrapped and probed
sold to the highest bidder
shut down the government
while we wear paper gowns
so you can further undermine
our rightful place on this planet
holding our bodies hostage
trussed up in bills
and law
and vice
the red thick and clotted
over flow cotton padding
covers the floor
slip and fall

the elephant in the room
has never been invisible
has never not been
she has always been there
will always have to be there
in order for you to be here
how appropriate
we give birth
and you take away our fucking options
what if you were optional
left to your own devices
can you figure out a way to exist
without once inhabiting a womb
tell me to be seen not heard
hold my tongue
take the back seat
walk three steps behind
do more work
make less money
gentrify my sex
legislate my form
then refuse to listen to my utterances
tell me by your actions
that my voice has no worth
that your diction is more valid

well, fuck that

and fuck you

the question was asked
does this society driven by men malign women???
You tell me.

Where my brothers at?
Where my brothers at?

Brothers tell us how you felt
When your rapist left you
with a child clawing at your insides out
tell us how you had to convince a doctor
that you weren’t willing
how do you feel now that a legislative body
wants to decide if your truth is your own
do you think you should be imprison
because of the decisions you made for your body
shed some light brothers
share your thought
share your words loud clear
on this stage where our thoughts
our voices are equal
cause it’s poetry
and we all poets,

don’t think that just because
you don’t have a vagina
I won’t listen to you

because you
would do the same for me
listen that is

Thursday, April 07, 2011

6/30 unadmitted

6/30 unadmitted

i drop my hands
face full of tears
kicking all the time
cascading loose

what I knew last night
doesn’t matter anymore

tell me
what you don’t want to know
what’s the big secret

please don’t tell Theresa

sympathy evaporates
barely hesitating
hands clinching
I built this place
with walls
that aren’t really there
waiting for tomorrow
brave and determined

what’s left if you’ve done everything

Wednesday, April 06, 2011


* because there are some idiots in the world who think that calling dread heads Marley is funny or cool. it isn't it makes you look like the fucktard you are so stop..for real*

5/30 The House of Bob

there seems to be

no limit to the stupidity

in the actions of those

around me

like tonight

for instance

while it’s true

my sweet tooth

got the best of me

a kind of guilty pleasure

I was not looking to buy anything

other than


“Yo, Marley”

Can I just say

that I have heard

this simple minded phrase

hurled at my person

more than I care to share

enough to know

that this phrase

falling from any lips

wagging in my direction

have to be perched on the face

of an asshole

and because I

had an assholepindectomy

years ago


don’t have to listen

“Yo, Marley”

am I supposed to be impressed

that you believe that every dread head on the planet

is somehow linked irrevocably

to the lineage of “Marley”

like it’s a race or something

“Yo, Marley”

“Yo, Marley”

“Yo Marley”

“Yo Dick-Head”

when I walk into any establishment

I look at my surroundings

we Marly-ites

we call this being



and aware

though it may have nothing to do

with the lineage of Marley

could be my Black Panther childhood

my I’m a girl in a world

that forces me to guard my woman

never a back to a door

never not knowing where the exits are

“Yo Dick-head”

was it you pompousness or your ignorance

that made you think

you a stranger could approach me

with over-tones of illegal activity

and did you think I would actually answer

and did you think shouting your intentions

and your pissy-ness at my ignoring you

would escape the presence of the police

cause I didn’t

so if they arrest you

just know

they didn’t do it

because of Marley

they did it




a dumb ass


4/30 On Last Nights Storm

once upon a time

not too long ago

a storm like this one

would have caused

our skin to ache

an ache only comforted

by the removal of clothes

and the press

I am reminded of one of our storms

we made love outside

neighbors be dammed

patio furniture

becoming accustomed

with new ways to be useful

bare asses to the world

we’d outgrown our closets

long ago

the misting of skin

the rains attempt

to keep our own flames

under control

waking spent

in your arms


turning me



there will be

an argument

one I won’t

participate in cause

I don’t fight


we will part

with hurt feelings



we will regret

but this storm


doesn’t make me

focus on the fight

just the wind,

the lightning

the thunder

whispered I love you’s

pushed from arched backs

hands on flesh

how the feel of this storm

and the thought of you

still turns me


I wonder if you are watching

am I on your mind


3/30 Play Date

*disclaimer ~ I don't give hickies anymore unless you ask for them~

you speak in code

tied tongue

dressed in ridiculous

the hoops you’ve designed

for me to jump through don’t exist


maybe they do

you just move them to fast

for me and my colorful Chucks

to leap over or around

could be

you don’t want to be caught

just caught up

in a chase

where you roadrunner me into insanity

and if I wasn’t crazy already

it could work

your fake manhole covers

bombs made by ACME

could knock me off some

unforeseen trajectory

could train wreck partner me

back to my sensibilities

maybe I’d finally fall for you

but we seem to love this game

of duck -duck goosed

and sometime I let you catch me

sometime I almost catch you

unless I’m distracted

by the other pretty faces in the room

but even when that happens I come back

and so do you

all that to say

that the hickie

on the side of my face?

was Bad form!

I had to insinuate a lie

now I fear my friends think I have a tumor

at least I had the decency

to put the smiley face hickie

where it could be cover in jeans

so no one would think you

were making out with WAL-MART



we should consider some rules

for this game of




this catch and release



we were never really good at rules

with our tendency to seek them out

and break them proper

we should adopt ,however,

the tropics rule

so, imagine your belly button is the Equator

the curve of your shoulder The Tropic of Cancer

the dimple behind your left knee The Tropic of Capricorn

fair game between the tropics (wink, wink)

and I know sometimes

we are all quickie rushed

and may not know which way were going

and this is why

I’ve taken to wearing

a compass around my neck

of course the directions change

depending on the path we chose to follow


for now

stop playing

and tell me where you hid my keys and my bra

and tell me in the language I understand


2/30 Incendiary

they don’t understand

how much their words scorch

don’t believe in back flash

think they resistant to the flames

they fan at each other

their harsh words

once real turn



unruly poltergeists

they trips on excuses

their apologies turn twist of knife

the once bullied

turned bully

not wielding fists or feet

but shrapnel tongues

that seek to destroy


your words have power

I shout

I lecture

they pretend not to hear

I mantra the phrases so much

they may as well be tattooed on my skin


bruised by their

hair trigger syllables


they have their own agenda

this rite of passage

they created

just for them

the only indication

that they feel the power of words

is when I watch them

slap at the flames

threatening their own soft skin

their milk teeth

they only know the moment

not the consequence

those will come later



Open letter to the folks who seem to know my financial situation better than me

I wanna start by saying thank you

I know to show appreciation

for those who do so much for me

in the ways of marginalizing

and compartmentalizing

my issues

so much better than I do my own

if not for you

I might be confused about my station

now mind you

those who believe me to have excess

and those who see me lacking

ou are both right to some degree

you are also both speaking at the same time

and I realize

that while I may not know my finances

you have faith in my ability to multi-task


it’s nice

isn’t it

to the first

I am so glad you keep up with the news

take stock in cash prizes

and have figured out where mine should go

fuck a bill I

should do what you want me too

cause well you know the true lay of my land

know my topography far better than me

and know that if we excavate



my son won’t need new shoes

and the bills will pay themselves

cause that first syllable “PO” in poetry

can’t sound like paycheck to paycheck poverty

since it sounds so pretty

and the shine is blinding

and to the second

I know you saw the haggard in my steps


it must of looked like I worked all day

looked like I’m in need of helping hands

not my own

looked like I don’t know hustle and pull

like I can’t stretch my dollars

into healthy meals for hungry mouths

my story plastered on my

no name brand wardrobe


my nails ain’t even did

I can see the way you see it,

saw it,

knew it,

and placed your ignorance on my time

I mean I know your heart is in the right place


bit on my tongue

while it was stuck in my cheek

you think you know me

you don’t

you should know me

you weren’t paying attention

so, pay attention

I could Hallmark my way into mediocrity

form my tongue to fit your narrow-minded views

but my body rejects your intentions

your Lilliputian views don’t fit my own

and the fatuous delivery of your inclinations

make me wonder who’s doing who a favor

and should I laugh?

just so you know

I am fully aware of my capabilities

what monies I have or not

so kindly kiss my ass

and back the fuck off

and if you need a translation

understand I don’t take EBT or gossip

just the cash please

just the fucking cash!

Sunday, March 27, 2011

The L Word (part two)

Sometimes it takes me a minute to realize that I’m being slighted in some way when it actually happens. I just re-read that sentence and it doesn’t look right but it’s what I think I’m trying to say so I will try to break it down. I am used to folks being direct not this passive aggressive backhanded compliment shit. When I don’t like something I say I don’t like it. And if my opinion is asked I am assuming that you aren’t soliciting a lie. So when you tell me something I’ve done appeals to you or that you liked what I said or how I said it, I tend to take it as honesty because in my line of logic I’m thinking who would volunteer a lie? And why would you voluntarily offer up false praise when you could have just said nothing. Oh well, I keep forgetting I’m a little different and when I remember I shrug it off like an itchy sweater. I mean I am of the mind that if you are over forty and haven’t learned that some people are mean, and mean people suck and if at forty plus you haven’t developed a sense of humor that can filter through bullshit leaving your self esteem in tact? Well, I don’t know what to tell you.

So, someone I dealt with briefly just found out about my attack of lesbianism. He was a part of my life when unhappiness led to acting out. My first marriage one of guilt and denial my open act of I’M NOT GAY resistance. Jumping from my first love, a woman, into the guy I ruined to prove my straightness. I had affairs, and other things and I still wasn’t happy so this encounter and I am left east of knocked up and not sure who belonged to who as I was so entangled. I wanted children so now I had one. I was also always clear that, if need be, I could raise my children myself. So the donor, mind you no test has been taken to make sure, twenty-two years later has issues. Mind you my daughter is clear about her parents her mother and the second husband her father who raised her. So, I’ll amend the alleged donor calls her, my daughter, when he finds out that I am one of them.

He has a fit. Makes comments like she should have been raised by him cause he ain’t no punk.? Still not sure what that means but you who know me know my fist instinct was to laugh. Like me being me is a detriment to raising children. Crazy! I had pretty much let that go until I overheard someone saying, “She’s a homosexual you know.” The way it was said made it sound so sketch. And I know they maybe weren’t talking about me (who am I kidding there was pointing for fucks sake). It made me think of the donor and the church lady and the preacher and all the other encounters with folks that want to judge me by my sexuality.

I find it sad and funny that those who bark so loud about my unfitness as a parent have children so fucked up therapy would be a band-aid. My kids are not perfect. And even if they make the same mistakes I did or create brand new ones as long as they learn from them all will be good. As of now, no one has gone to jail, nobody’s knocked up and they love learning!

I am not perfect and my kids know the imperfections well, I tend to wear them on my tongue, so I have no fear of them waking up one day feeling like their mother was a liar.

And I have lied about many things, my favorite was pretending to be deaf and listening to this guy on the bus telling me all the nasty things he wanted to do to me. It was tough not showing the disgust on my face, and later there was a knee to the groin and running. Thank the Goddess for track. You live, you learn. I don’t lie about the things that are important especially when it comes to my kids. And I would appreciate it if when you judge me for being gay, we just stick to the gay. When you judge my parenting, just judge my parenting. And should you be so inclined to mix the two, have the goddamn decency to not cry or bitch when you recognize yourself in a poem or in a blatant statement like, oh I don’t know this one. I didn’t include your names cause this is your freebie. Your only freebie;-)

Have a lovely!

*written without editing forgive the rambling, or don't...

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Kaiser Permanete...... and Patient Care.. that shit don't go together....!

So what am I paying for? I am not sure most days. I called in the prescription and as usual I went to pick it up the next day. The irony that it is the eve of my father’s death from the same condition I have and that he was also a Kaiser victim isn’t lost on me. So I get there and they tell me that my prescription will not be filled the doctor said I have to have an appointment before they refill my prescription. I ask “Why didn’t someone call me to tell me this?” They shrug; I go to make an appointment. They tell me the soonest appointment is next Wednesday. They give me an appointment card. I take it to the pharmacy and they give me three pills. I tell them that my appointment is a week away and I’m pretty sure that’s seven days. How exactly are three pills supposed to cover that? The pharmacy chick says she has to talk to her manager. Then she tells me that I have to get an “emergency prescription” for the other days.

I go back to the appointment desk relay the message and she tells me they don’t do that. I go back to the pharmacist and they say “well there’s nothing we can do.” I go back to the appointment desk, relay yet another message and I say. “Maybe I’m confused. You say I have to take this everyday. I have an appointment a week away, four of those days I will not take a pill so if I stroke out on day, let’s say five can I get the rest of my prescription then. Or how about, if this conversation keeps going the way it is an my pressure shoots up right now can I get a prescription then or will it work better for you if I died tomorrow, that way my dad and I can both have the same death day anniversary proud Kaiser Permente patience heightened by the fact that we both went out the same way.” She picks up a phone and calls somebody. My phone rings. I answer. It’s my sister I say loudly in the crowded waiting room, “ Let me call you back, Kaiser is trying to kill me right now.” I hang up.

Then the woman says, and, pay attention because if it makes sense to you maybe you can explain it to me. She says, “We can’t give you an appointment until Wednesday, but if you call in the morning they can give you an appointment the same day.” I say,”Then why can’t you just give me an appointment for in the morning?” She said, and I quote, “We can’t do that.” I say,” That makes absolutely no sense. You can’t give me a prescription to last until my appointment, and you can’t make me an appointment tomorrow but if I call tomorrow I can get one tomorrow and the three pills should last me until then because giving me the medication you prescribed would ensure that I can indeed make it to the appointment on Wednesday but you can’t do that.” My phone rings. It’s my friend. I say, “ Let me try to call you back. I am at Kaiser where they are planning my death and depending on how this goes I may or may not call you back.” Yes I say it loudly. She, the woman picks up a phone and calls somebody.

Then she says, “ A doctor will see you right now.” I glare at her tell her though my pressure is up I will do my best not to stroke out in the waiting room.” Then she reminds me that I need to pay 35 bucks….
When they asked me did I have a pleasant visit at Kaiser today I said, “No. It was fucked up and felt a little like pre-meditated murder, but thanks for asking.”

I don’t understand how you can keep a straight face while spewing complete bullshit. I mean I do know it is done I hear it weekly at an open mic here or there , but I still don’t understand it and this just seemed extra dumbass.. This has been a bad customer service week for me let’s just hope the muses have had their fun and I get a scathing, bad ass poem out of it. It could happen.

Monday, February 07, 2011

of my dreams

shrugging off external judgements
the paint heavy slaps on canvas
living in each others pockets
moved by these sensations
no what ifs
no what might have been
just now
the gaping hole in my chest
shows all I have to offer
all I’m willing to give
acceptance proudly reflected
in toast colored eyes
no polluted apologies
firmly fixed in a smile
still learning the way
still feeling the earth turn
slender fingers cradle
coffee mornings
between forefinger and thumb
hanging on words draped in silence

Tuesday, January 18, 2011


yeah, i don't have it. sadly i remember way more than i care to and i have no desire to delete details for the sakes of others. i have made plenty mistakes let words leak from my face without thinking and i own that. i don't pretend it never happened and i don't gloss over deals made big because of my actions. so i always find it interesting when folks try to do that with me. i mean i guess i get it, cart before the heart and all, but if i don't go with it...then what?

Saturday, January 15, 2011

On the Tooth Fairy and Other Highly Sensitive Subjects

This is an article I wrote for a school publication back in the 90’s.
as i am a terrible typist... there are errors;-)

On the Tooth Fairy and Other Highly Sensitive Subjects

While working with the young minds of the future some of their questions have filled me with hope. Other comments have scared me to death. Watching them imitate life, assume ideas, change their minds, wet their pants make friends and pick their noses has changed the way I see some things.

Many issues are raised and questions asked about the mysteries and wonders of life in my classroom. Deep profound questions like “Why does poop stink?” That was an easy one, and I was glad to answer it. I grossed them out so bad the question didn’t reappear for many years.

Occasionally, I get that one question that I know the answer to, but to answer would lead to other uncomfortable questions that maybe a parent should answer like: “Where do babies come from?” fortunately for me I have been blessed to have in my classroom that one child, who while is much younger than I, has lived and knows everything.

“Where do babies come from? You don’t know that?” This is the usual first response, which usually gets a “Yeah,” or “Please, I knew that since I was four” comment. The asker of the question still waits for an answer, while the know-it-all decides whether he or she is too learned to answer such juvenile questions. After all he or she is a second grader and could be to busy to deal with such drivel. I fade into the background to hear their theories of the world.

One year when this particular question came up they came close to the right answer. Someone knew there was an egg. While I squirmed in my seat hoping and praying they wouldn’t ask me where it was, the know-it-all of that year went on to say, “When the menstruation doesn’t happen, the egg is laid.” Her hand on what would one day be a hip.

I giggled mostly in fear, because I had no idea what would come out of her mouth next. “The mommy doesn’t have a menstruation for a lot of months, I think it’s like thirty-six, then she goes to the doctor and has her baby.” A little off but very well done I thought to myself hoping again the ball wouldn’t land in my court. “My mom says you can take it back if it’s not the right one.” Another student says and before I can interject the little miss know-it-all pipes in, “Your mother lied to you!”

Listening carefully I realize the proverbial cat is about to be let out of the bag.

“She did not! My mother doesn’t lie to me!” he shouts back at her.

“Please.” Preached Little Miss Know-It-All, “Adults lie to children all the time. Lie telling you if you eat your vegetables you’ll grow up big and strong, when all the vegetarians I know are skinny and scrawny. Like when they say the shot won’t hurt? It does!”

She paused, and I thought now would be a good time to go outside for some fresh air, but she wasn’t finished. “I bet you still believe in Santa Clause, don’t you?” Faces throughout the room looked shocked and shattered.

I stood up and spoke, “People have a right to believe what they believe, respect and don’t mess with that.” A sigh of relief seemed to flow through the room. That’s when I realized that I have exposed myself, and watching Little Miss Know-It-All, I see that she sees it too. I am now standing on that spot some of us don’t like to be standing on.

“Have you ever lied to you children Mrs. Theresa?”

I broke out in a small, but not to obvious sweat. “About what?” I recovered, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“Do your children think that there is a Santa Clause, Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy?”

My eyes widened as I prepared to be exposed like all of the other parents who were not there to witness our demise at the hands of a seven, I mean seven-and-a-half year old. Just as I was about to respond, not exactly sure of what I was going to say. My daughter, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up.

“My mother doesn’t lie to us! We don’t celebrate Christmas we celebrate Kwanzaa our ancestors bring us gifts. And if I am sitting there dying eggs, why would I believe a big rabbit brings them to me?”

A series of, “Yeah! See you don’t know everything rises from the crowd of second and third graders.

“Line up.” I say sending the class scrambling to be the first in line to go outside. Little Miss Know-It-All turned to look at me, her head cocked to the side, then turned to my daughter and said, “What about the Tooth Fairy?”

The hairs on the back of my neck did a dance. My daughter stood up, looked her right in the eyes and said, “When I lose a tooth, my mom puts it in an envelope, and the next day I have two dollars. Of course I believe in the Tooth Fairy!” Then she bounced away to line up with her friends.

Just then I felt a tug on my jacket. A very reassured Little Miss Know-It-All wearing an evil little grin looked at me and said, “I told you. Adults lie to children.”

Sunday, January 09, 2011

a note to would be wanna be superheroes

I get it. I mean we all have had those moments when we imagine ourselves hero and sometimes dare I say superhero. In fantasy world it’s great! We have super speed, we can pick shit up that’s ridiculously heavy and toss it like so much salad, but in reality world, we know this is not the case. I mean, we do know this? Don’t we?

Every year in my classroom I do a unit on superheroes. We discuss character traits, strengths, weakness and the difference between hero and superhero. We acknowledge the heroes in our lives our communities. Firefighters, police officers, the neighborhood crack head that doesn’t let anyone fuck with you. Citizens who protect and serve not looking for praise or celebrity. Who also go through training and know exactly how to carry out their jobs without endangering themselves or other, possibly with the exception of the crack head.

So like, you know how in pretend land, the hero, because in pretend land unless you have a super power like flying, melting shit with your eyes or sense tingling you were a hero or a vigilante. Vigilantes are those dudes or chicks that take shit into their own hands when no one asked them too. clearing throat

ANY WHO, in pretend land have you ever seen, oh I don’t know, Spiderman or Batman do an interview on, SAY, Good Morning America or the Today show? No, No you don’t! And do you know why? Because it’s a fucking secret! Yes they run around in garish costumes with shiny gadgets but that shit is on the low, because just like there are those guys that wanna do good there are those who have no problem running a train on good. So when you go on television and tell people how you used to do this at your last job but folks felt some kind of way, you are telling folks who you are. The point of a secret identity is…it’s supposed to stay secret??? Keep up!!

So in for real world American’s are slipping further and further from reality so I can see how you can mix up pretend and real world from time to time. But in the real world when you get shot no stunt real life dude guy takes the bullet for you. And if you don’t have super powers you are not a super hero. Movies aren’t real and neither is television, sometimes even the news. I know (rubbing your back), it is it’s a hard pill to swallow and I really hope you don’t end up dead because you went public like a dumb ass.

In teaching my Superhero Unit (hands on hips, profile looking fly) what happens is that when students have to take into account character, and that you don’t help people for fame or glory, that how knowing the right thing to do is hard many of them ask to create a villain. We talk about how easy it is to be the villain. No accountability is appealing to them; not having to consider the impact on others is a draw to the darker side. I don’t let them take the easy out in my classroom, but there are plenty of folks who take the easy out in this world. How else does a grown man stab a teenage boy to death in a crowded place over a cell phone?

I think it’s noble to wanna help folks but if you are helping not realizing the danger you are putting yourself in a reality check may be in order….just saying

Thursday, January 06, 2011


(i am avoiding caps and some punctuation on purpose. if you don't like it, oh well)

look it's not that i'm a wuss, this shit just really hurts. it's the kind of pain that makes you do shit like get really still a listen for your heart beat, cause surly it is in distress. the dentist has never been my favorite but, no that's actually it. i was going to say something hallmarkey but yeah, i don't mean it. i'm looking at the home instructions and i guess this is bone bruising. the kind under your skin and in your face. i should have taken some days off i know but i'm stubborn and kinda ridiculous when it comes to my responsibilities at times. remember i'm the chick who went back to work with child in tow three days after having him... don't judge me?? besides you don't have a dry erase board and decimal points so that shit don't count.

so i've been on a liquid diet for several days now and i'm kinda sad but grateful no ones come by to check on me cause i can feel my inner bitch getting restless. she's a steak kinda chick and this soup and applesauce diet is not hitting the spot.

ok, on to other things before the pain killers kick in good and this stuff starts making less sense than it might make now. i made a few promises to myself this year and i am determined to make good on them.

1. stop smoking (so far so good smoke free since 1/2)

2. lose a few pounds (so far so good 3 lbs since 1/2)

3. i will take better care of myself.

now this means a lot of different things. health and heart have a lot to do with this. aside from the obvious with the smoking and other vices that are also being curtailed i have to learn to walk away from some things and some people. people like smoking, and other vices can turn toxic.

4. blog more (i'm doing that shit right now ...what!!)

5. tour.

this one is tricky but i really want this for myself. it took me a long time to find this art form and i love it and i love sharing and i need to get out and just do it. but unlike tiger woods i shall not get caught!

6. deepen my friendships.

7. fall in love.

now i know what you're thinking, YOU CAN'T SCHEDULE STUFF LIKE THAT!! WHAT KIND OF PROMISE IS THAT!! well i will tell you what, i can. lol, i guess i should amend it to open my heart to the possibility of falling in love. so i will.

7a. open myself up to the possibility of falling in love.

it took a week of listening to my own heart and voice. inside my own personal temple of solitude to actually think about how much i've been hurt in the past. how i've shelved my true heart for a while, cause i refused to let the clumsy lovers in my life damage it further. now there have been two maybe three who have figured out where i hide the step stool and they actually held it (my heart, metaphorically of course) and then something happens and maybe it's a little thing but i re-shelve and hide the fucking stool.

wooo,i think the painkillers are starting to work the whole room kinda shifted...

8. finish my book and film concepts/projects.

9. throw my baby the biggest party ever when she becomes the first of my mother's grandchildren to graduate from college.

10. continue to be me.

i know people think i should act my age and what i have to say to those people is, fuck you, you act MY age since you seem to know a hell of a lot more about it than i do. and what is that? you're uncomfortable because i enjoy my life? because i live my life? i love myself and it took a long time to get here and guess what I'M NOT FUCKING LEAVING! not until it's time for me to and those who can't adjust to my fabulousness that boarders on brilliant bouncing off of wrong, oh well.. ok starting to feel like i'm not making sense so....ta dahlings!!!!

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

the most insane stupid song in my universe

So, over the holiday I was forced to listen to the radio. The books I usually listen to were too mature for the boy so I folded and to the radio we did listen. For three days. And for three days I heard the same, maybe 12 songs, in rotation. But it seemed in every rotation the song Grenade was playing. At first, I thought it was a joke, but then scarily my children started singing along and I realized they liked it? I was confused, I mean they did come from my womb? Right? So maybe, I thought, I am being to judgmental, to serious I was not looking at the complete picture and therefore questioning my children's pedigree was to hasty. They could still be my children if this song is as ass-backwards stupid as it sounds to me, this could be another one of those genetic things they got from their dad...yeah, that's it... So I listened.... over, and over and over again. What I surmised is that this song is, to my translation, about a self-loathing, narcissist with suicidal tendencies and a low self esteem. Which translates further into NOT SEXY and EXTREMELY DUMB!

Let's pick it apart shall we.....

Easy come, easy go

That's just how you live, oh

Take, take, take it all,

But you never give

Should of known you was trouble from the first kiss,

Had your eyes wide open, Why were they open?

~Well if it's easy come, easy go then you accuse me of being selfish, I'm gonna keep my eyes open to watch your ass because I have stepped into some stalker shit and quite possibly don't know how to get out of it...yet!

Gave you all I had

And you tossed it in the trash

You tossed it in the trash, you did

To give me all your love is all I ever asked,

Cause what you don't understand is

I’d catch a grenade for ya
Throw my hand on a blade for ya
I’d jump in front of a train for ya
You know I'd do anything for ya
Oh, oh
I would go through all this pain,

Take a bullet straight through my brain,

Yes, I would die for ya baby;

But you won't do the same

~Ok, now is where crazy really comes out. So you gave me all you had, wouldn't that be a choice thing something you chose to do. And all you asked for was ALL of my love....that's it? ALL of it followed by telling me how you would self emulate for me after you already accused me of throwing your love in the trash and you're mad because i won't kill myself? What FIRST? Imean if you're serious why not take the grenade, blade, train, and bullet, and then if you survive, oh wait you said you would die for me.. But wait? if I love you wouldn't I want us to live!! PLEASE...BABY,BABY Can we live!!!! So, am I a bad person because I don't think death is an expression of love??? Then this part...

Black, black, black and blue beat me till I'm numb

Tell the devil I said “hey” when you get back to where you're from

Are you implying I'm from hell or I should go to hell?????? And do you find abusive relationships that leave you black and blue attractive????

If my body was on fire, ooh

You’ d watch me burn down in flames

You said you loved me you're a liar

~Now, hey wait a minute. If you caught on fire, unless it was some spontaneous combustion, divine type shit of course I'd put you out... oh wait, who you calling a liar???

The song is a hot mess. But I does bring into focus why some of these youth I work with think that these transitional relationships that they are in at 12, 13, 14 and 15 are so intense and forever. Why they fight over people who don't want them. That whole Romeo and Juliet romance thing. Hell y'all, if you read the book you'd see that shit was a mistake. You can't prove to someone how much you love them by hurting yourself. And if you truly think dying for someone is the way to get the girl or dude...I'ma need you to think that through all the way to the end...just saying!!

Ok, kiddies, the pain killers are finally kicking in...HOLLER!!