it's like that recurring dream that you have.
you know the one you're there hanging out looking and feeling ok, then you realize you are not naked, but wearing granny panties and your boobies are on backwards! Maybe that's just my dream...Huh.....anyway, something in the cosmos doesn't want me to slam for the monkey. it's to the point of funny. it's amok, then. my personality is probably more like an elephant drunk off her ass tearing shit up, rather than a monkey hyped on coffee. it was the most interesting slam i've been to so far. i really hope the finalist on both teams make themselves familiar with technique and style because a lot of what i heard would be booed off the stage. i can't remember one poem at individuals or at nationals last year where the word bitch was used in reference to a woman. there were no dick poems or vagina monologues. there was cleaver and rarely did you see paper. i suggest everybody go and see slam outside of Atlanta. it will blow you fucking head off, make you chase it across the street (only kicking it twice), pick it up put it back on you shoulder and raise you levels.
i am enjoying the hell out of this!
two slams in one month and in both people confused by the judges and diggin my words!
some pissed some shouting it's all great....loving this!
i love the randomness and the way the listeners connect...well, when they are actually listening.
i have to pace my social life. i've been denied so long i think i'm still in a buffet state of mind. filling my plate even when i am full and still going back for more. makes for a tired body and a foggy mind. i just have to remind myself that i will not starve......ooh dessert!
Monday, March 13, 2006
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Friends
Why is it that I look like I am taking a poop in performance pictures? Friends, please give me a heads up when I am doing this. This picture was taken at IWPS in February. I am either harping on rainbows and butterflies or I really gotta go. I am going to have to start practicing photo poses when performing, so I just look like I gotta pee, not poop!
Thursday, March 09, 2006
what to do
* note to reader
I am boycotting punctuation marks not all of them only the ones that I don't have use for today
yes, I am using the comma sometimes cause sometimes I don't have issues with comma and there is an exclamation here or there because I am OK with them most of the time, but the other ones can kiss my ass!
cool place
never been here before
exhausted as hell but relaxed and happy
what a concept
tired, relaxed and happy
no wonder I'm not normal
or am I more normal than even normal can be
boggles the mind doesn't it
I am sure there are rules to what I am doing
but I don't really want to get caught up in that
I just want to flow
another hard concept that people can't mesh with
flowing is nice
my only concern with the current flow is that my writing
has taken on this different feel
I am resisting so I am having trouble accessing my angry space
my comfort zone
it's there I saw it this morning when the head idiot was on TV this morning
I will level off soon
I can't wait for Cliterati tonight
I have about three new pieces and they are all over the place
one is all about leave me the fuck alone and go fuck with someone else
the other is all soft and lovey
the last is the rewrites to choose your weapons and ink
this past week end was amazing!
the show at Charis was awesome
and my jedi mind trick is working just fine
my road trip to Vanderbilt was great
they made me feel all celebrity asking for photos and autographs
I sold books and CD's, and aspiring poets recited to me it was good
then the slam an incredible night of poetry
I drew a two, not good, but I was very pleased with my performance and the response from fellow poets and the like
and a friend
all is good
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
a work in progress
a brief excerpt from a piece I'm working on
I fell off the edge of the world
and landed in your arms
all lips
connected
the warmth of your mouth
on mine engulfs me with a sensation
that begs movement of hips and hands
of what lay ahead
and what lay behind green eyes
watching me
watching you
in a want that singes
passion driven by delight
and the glow of
green eyes
drinking me in all
heat and waves
I fell off the edge of the world
and landed in your arms
all lips
connected
the warmth of your mouth
on mine engulfs me with a sensation
that begs movement of hips and hands
of what lay ahead
and what lay behind green eyes
watching me
watching you
in a want that singes
passion driven by delight
and the glow of
green eyes
drinking me in all
heat and waves
is this thing on
What an amazing couple of weeks!
More like three weeks.
I am elated in all areas of my life right now and it’s been a long time coming.
It only took a year and a half of stalking Doria Roberts before she did a show with me.
Beautiful.
I have done my third college gig and it was great!
First slam outside of Atlanta! Awesome!
Green eyes that watch me!
Hot!
All in all incredible!
My son was the best damn boa constrictor in the whole wide world in his class play!
My class successfully pulled of the play about nothing that included;
a drug reference,
use of the word pessimist,
pirates, yo-yo’s,
a sword fight,
a rap song,
and a Cheney joke!
I think we are up for a Tony!
Trying to get back into my body.
I have had so many experiences this week end,
and discovered hidden talents.
I think I have successfully blown my own mind and maybe the mind of others.
I’m tired and coffee has stopped working.
After this cup I’m switching to energy drinks.
More like three weeks.
I am elated in all areas of my life right now and it’s been a long time coming.
It only took a year and a half of stalking Doria Roberts before she did a show with me.
Beautiful.
I have done my third college gig and it was great!
First slam outside of Atlanta! Awesome!
Green eyes that watch me!
Hot!
All in all incredible!
My son was the best damn boa constrictor in the whole wide world in his class play!
My class successfully pulled of the play about nothing that included;
a drug reference,
use of the word pessimist,
pirates, yo-yo’s,
a sword fight,
a rap song,
and a Cheney joke!
I think we are up for a Tony!
Trying to get back into my body.
I have had so many experiences this week end,
and discovered hidden talents.
I think I have successfully blown my own mind and maybe the mind of others.
I’m tired and coffee has stopped working.
After this cup I’m switching to energy drinks.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
March 3rd!!
Charis reading
this Friday night8 pm
hosted
by poet
*slam champ
*teacher
*artist
*mom
*performer
Theresa Davis!
Poetry night at Charis is revived & revitalized!
Bring your words, wisdom & kick off the weekend verbally!
Hear you there!~
Cliterati mama, Karen G.
Charis Books & More
1189 Euclid Avenue
Atlanta, GA 30307
Tel: (404)524-0304
Fax: (404)522-6663
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Why
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.
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
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.
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.
Wow.
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.
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.
Wow.
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
literally
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
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
literally
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
idiots
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
idiots
Holiday?
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
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
Individuals
I am still not on the planet!
I have never experienced anything like that!
INDIVIDUAL WORLD POETRY SLAM
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!
I have never experienced anything like that!
INDIVIDUAL WORLD POETRY SLAM
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!
Sunday, January 22, 2006
It' All Good
I have had a great week!
Makes me happy!
Not grinning like an idiot happy, but grinning on the inside like an idiot happy.
There is a difference. One's sexier somehow. My week was full of words. From the insanity of my class to opening for Peaches at the 14th St. Playhouse. The show was amazing. The singing soulful and the dialogue pure poetry. This was an opportunity to perform infront of a whole new kind of crowd. I edited my poetry. At first, I thought,"Hell, fucking no I will not censor myself! I'm a fucking artist and I'm sensitive 'bout my shit!" Then I thought about how cool it would be to be able to open up my audience to young people in a way that right now I can only do with college folk. The response....amazing. I perform mostly to the choir. Know what I mean your at a reading and 90% of the audience are poets. These were normal people. Yes, I know the implication and don't be offended. I don't mean normal in the way we all eat and poop and put our shoes on one foot at a time. In that way we are all normal. I mean normal in the sense that they may not feel naked without a pen. They may not have a cacophony of words bombarding their every waking moment. They possibly don't recite poetry in their dreams. They don't dream in subtitles.
They were all about Rainbows and Butterflies.
Some said it was a hopeful poem for them.
Three folks want me to come and speak at their schools and churches. Weary of the church gig, last time I did one of those someone took all my merchandise (stole is the right word but I want to prolong my damnation as long as I possibly can).
Tonight when I stepped out on stage my name was shouted back at me and it threw me just a little bit.
I wondered the entire time,"Who the hell was that?"
I have been a teacher for coming up on 16 years.
My name being shouted by the parent of a child I taught in 2nd and 3rd grade, shrank my universe just a bit and they wore faces of pride. I recognized it. It was the same face I wore when their young man got an A on a spelling test or rocked my world with a science project. They kept saying to folks walking by the " This is my son's teacher", present tense. Although the young man is 19 years old now. We all want to feel like we accomplish things. Doesn't have to be big. Watching them, listening to them they were saying I was a good teacher in and out of the classroom. Took my breath away. It's not validation I'm looking for it's recognition. Not a billboard, or a parade in recognition. But a word. "You are passionate about everything you do, Patrick was lucky to have you for a teacher." I welled up gave them both a hug and excused myself. Pushed to tears that I wouldn't let flow there. Ruin a perfect teacher moment. We don't get them all the time. 14 years after the fact, to be remembered. Still full on it. I couldn't go to Java. All of a sudden my sails went slack. Cleaning the house, listening to Shark Boy and Lava Girl on the television as my son struggles for consciousness. He'll be out in no time. Inhaling the sent of fried hair, my daughter and he flat iron. Tomorrow I'll pretend not to see the place where she burned her forehead. A glass of wine. I won the poetry slam on Saturday. I wore a skirt. Went to a party. Made out with a couple folks. Mom left for Venezuela today. Tia returns from Baltimore tonight. Life is good.
Makes me happy!
Not grinning like an idiot happy, but grinning on the inside like an idiot happy.
There is a difference. One's sexier somehow. My week was full of words. From the insanity of my class to opening for Peaches at the 14th St. Playhouse. The show was amazing. The singing soulful and the dialogue pure poetry. This was an opportunity to perform infront of a whole new kind of crowd. I edited my poetry. At first, I thought,"Hell, fucking no I will not censor myself! I'm a fucking artist and I'm sensitive 'bout my shit!" Then I thought about how cool it would be to be able to open up my audience to young people in a way that right now I can only do with college folk. The response....amazing. I perform mostly to the choir. Know what I mean your at a reading and 90% of the audience are poets. These were normal people. Yes, I know the implication and don't be offended. I don't mean normal in the way we all eat and poop and put our shoes on one foot at a time. In that way we are all normal. I mean normal in the sense that they may not feel naked without a pen. They may not have a cacophony of words bombarding their every waking moment. They possibly don't recite poetry in their dreams. They don't dream in subtitles.
They were all about Rainbows and Butterflies.
Some said it was a hopeful poem for them.
Three folks want me to come and speak at their schools and churches. Weary of the church gig, last time I did one of those someone took all my merchandise (stole is the right word but I want to prolong my damnation as long as I possibly can).
Tonight when I stepped out on stage my name was shouted back at me and it threw me just a little bit.
I wondered the entire time,"Who the hell was that?"
I have been a teacher for coming up on 16 years.
My name being shouted by the parent of a child I taught in 2nd and 3rd grade, shrank my universe just a bit and they wore faces of pride. I recognized it. It was the same face I wore when their young man got an A on a spelling test or rocked my world with a science project. They kept saying to folks walking by the " This is my son's teacher", present tense. Although the young man is 19 years old now. We all want to feel like we accomplish things. Doesn't have to be big. Watching them, listening to them they were saying I was a good teacher in and out of the classroom. Took my breath away. It's not validation I'm looking for it's recognition. Not a billboard, or a parade in recognition. But a word. "You are passionate about everything you do, Patrick was lucky to have you for a teacher." I welled up gave them both a hug and excused myself. Pushed to tears that I wouldn't let flow there. Ruin a perfect teacher moment. We don't get them all the time. 14 years after the fact, to be remembered. Still full on it. I couldn't go to Java. All of a sudden my sails went slack. Cleaning the house, listening to Shark Boy and Lava Girl on the television as my son struggles for consciousness. He'll be out in no time. Inhaling the sent of fried hair, my daughter and he flat iron. Tomorrow I'll pretend not to see the place where she burned her forehead. A glass of wine. I won the poetry slam on Saturday. I wore a skirt. Went to a party. Made out with a couple folks. Mom left for Venezuela today. Tia returns from Baltimore tonight. Life is good.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Mad In America
God is mad at America!
Has everybody lost their mind!
Why would God waste his time being mad at America!
This kind of statement proves people don't read or understand their own books or rhetoric!
This all knowing being who knows your heart and spirit...Doesn't know that you are a collective fuck up!
Mine does...I guess that means my God is more powerful than yours!
And how petty! If God was really mad at America he would have smitted the lot when we let shrubbery become president before women! I mean what did he say," How dare those people down their be walking around, breathing, and living! KATRINA! I got a little job for you!"
I mean really!
So I suppose he was mad at Asia and sent that Tsunami and earthquake!
Mad at Iraq sent us to bomb them for him!
Mad at religion so he sent Pat Robertson!
Your God is way more angry than mine!
Besides, God delligate destruction to Mother Nature! She's the one you need to be trying to please! She's the one who's pissed! Which is way more mad than mad!
Don't get it twisted!
And don't fuck with Mother Nature!
Has everybody lost their mind!
Why would God waste his time being mad at America!
This kind of statement proves people don't read or understand their own books or rhetoric!
This all knowing being who knows your heart and spirit...Doesn't know that you are a collective fuck up!
Mine does...I guess that means my God is more powerful than yours!
And how petty! If God was really mad at America he would have smitted the lot when we let shrubbery become president before women! I mean what did he say," How dare those people down their be walking around, breathing, and living! KATRINA! I got a little job for you!"
I mean really!
So I suppose he was mad at Asia and sent that Tsunami and earthquake!
Mad at Iraq sent us to bomb them for him!
Mad at religion so he sent Pat Robertson!
Your God is way more angry than mine!
Besides, God delligate destruction to Mother Nature! She's the one you need to be trying to please! She's the one who's pissed! Which is way more mad than mad!
Don't get it twisted!
And don't fuck with Mother Nature!
Monday, January 16, 2006
Where is the neighbor in the hood?
Last night assholes again broke into my friends house.
I can't imagine the violation she must feel.
Makes me think of neighbors and communities and the old days when you needed something folks rallied and saw that you were taken care of.
When I was a child I remember in the streets of St. Louis, when strangers walked our block, everybody noticed.
The woman and her son who lived down the street left home in a rush forgetting to close the door. Returning home to find nothing missing, because the neighbors had each other's back.
Friday nights on the block would find every child playing a neighborhood game of hide n seek, kick the can, and double dutch.
We've traded in the neighborhood for sprawl.
We have given up on each other for the convenience of a fucking Starbucks and some fake ass smiley face who rolls back prices while he, she, they, it rolls over and completely destroys the concept of neighborhood, neighbor, and neighborly consideration.
When I was a child I knew all my neighbors.
When I got in trouble down the street old Miss Hanna ( who is quicker than she looked) chased me down the street smacking me upside the head with a rolled up paper. Sat on my porch and waited so she could be the first to tell my mother.
Watched smiling on as legs got swatted or if god forbid I had to go pick the switch that would beat my ass.
The ultimate test, too big a switch and damn,
too small and damn.
Those days were golden.
Those days are gone.
My children have never played neighborhood games, a community rights of passage denied.
Because in this world today we are far more concerned with how much we have or how quickly we can take it from someone else.
We've had to trade in or neighbor down the street for an alarm system to protect us from our neighbor down the street.
No one sees anything, anymore,
no one hears anything.
Windows broken,
secure feelings shattered,
no one comes to help,
and the cops don't even want to dust for fingerprints.
I can't imagine the violation she must feel.
Makes me think of neighbors and communities and the old days when you needed something folks rallied and saw that you were taken care of.
When I was a child I remember in the streets of St. Louis, when strangers walked our block, everybody noticed.
The woman and her son who lived down the street left home in a rush forgetting to close the door. Returning home to find nothing missing, because the neighbors had each other's back.
Friday nights on the block would find every child playing a neighborhood game of hide n seek, kick the can, and double dutch.
We've traded in the neighborhood for sprawl.
We have given up on each other for the convenience of a fucking Starbucks and some fake ass smiley face who rolls back prices while he, she, they, it rolls over and completely destroys the concept of neighborhood, neighbor, and neighborly consideration.
When I was a child I knew all my neighbors.
When I got in trouble down the street old Miss Hanna ( who is quicker than she looked) chased me down the street smacking me upside the head with a rolled up paper. Sat on my porch and waited so she could be the first to tell my mother.
Watched smiling on as legs got swatted or if god forbid I had to go pick the switch that would beat my ass.
The ultimate test, too big a switch and damn,
too small and damn.
Those days were golden.
Those days are gone.
My children have never played neighborhood games, a community rights of passage denied.
Because in this world today we are far more concerned with how much we have or how quickly we can take it from someone else.
We've had to trade in or neighbor down the street for an alarm system to protect us from our neighbor down the street.
No one sees anything, anymore,
no one hears anything.
Windows broken,
secure feelings shattered,
no one comes to help,
and the cops don't even want to dust for fingerprints.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
The results are sort of in
So, I am not dying.
I'm sure that disappoints some but makes others grin.
They do however want to do a butt load of tests.
I know I'm a teacher and all, but just between me and you....I hate tests. Of any kind
I especially hate the kind where bodily fluids are collected in syringes, tubie things, or cups.
Did you know that the symptoms of hypertension well a few of then however closely resemble this other thing I have.
But on the bright side,
I now, know why I can't remember shit,
why the flashes are HOT,
the heart palpatations have nothing to do with lust.
Thank god nothing has dried up.
My doctor is cool...for a guy.
I'm sure that disappoints some but makes others grin.
They do however want to do a butt load of tests.
I know I'm a teacher and all, but just between me and you....I hate tests. Of any kind
I especially hate the kind where bodily fluids are collected in syringes, tubie things, or cups.
Did you know that the symptoms of hypertension well a few of then however closely resemble this other thing I have.
But on the bright side,
I now, know why I can't remember shit,
why the flashes are HOT,
the heart palpatations have nothing to do with lust.
Thank god nothing has dried up.
My doctor is cool...for a guy.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Body Betrayal
What a week!
Java Monkey tonight was incredible!
I feel so out of the loop and loopy!
Rupert scared the shit out of me when he fell on the stage as a part of his performance, then almost made me pee my pants. It has been so long it seems since I felt so engaged and inspired by all the voices I heard...Except mine. Damn my brain that keeps rearranging my poetry. I can't remember shit. I royally messed up both pieces, but I am determined to do it right.
My body is going through some changes.
I knew it was going to happen soon, but still not prepared for soon to be now.
I have been sleeping shitty waking in panicked sweats.
I thought maybe I had the heat up to high.
Moved my bed from over the vents.
And still for the past few nights still waking drenched and heart racing like I was running from something, someone?
Then I fucked up.
At Targe, Target for the uncultured;-), I got the bright idea to check my blood pressure.
I have never seen numbers so high.
Freaked myself out...Completely.
That night I was scared to sleep fearing I'd have a heart attack or stroke.
Still sweating like a fiend.
Then I remembered the surgery.
And then I remembered the side effects from said surgery.
So now I think I have a wicked combo of early menopause with a sprinkling of high blood pressure.
Doctor visit tomorrow!
If I can scare Kaiser into giving me an appointment because I'm scared.
I started this blog last year as I recovered from my surgery. Bored on my couch. It's almost a year to the date of the pre- op that lead to the surgery.
Changes.
Changes are scary and with some of the changes I am making
or having to make,
really wanting to make because I don't want to die will no doubt make me scary.
Down from almost a pack a day to two today.
None tomorrow and there after.
Let the cranky begin.
And remember, I don't bite... Unless you're into that kinda thing.
Java Monkey tonight was incredible!
I feel so out of the loop and loopy!
Rupert scared the shit out of me when he fell on the stage as a part of his performance, then almost made me pee my pants. It has been so long it seems since I felt so engaged and inspired by all the voices I heard...Except mine. Damn my brain that keeps rearranging my poetry. I can't remember shit. I royally messed up both pieces, but I am determined to do it right.
My body is going through some changes.
I knew it was going to happen soon, but still not prepared for soon to be now.
I have been sleeping shitty waking in panicked sweats.
I thought maybe I had the heat up to high.
Moved my bed from over the vents.
And still for the past few nights still waking drenched and heart racing like I was running from something, someone?
Then I fucked up.
At Targe, Target for the uncultured;-), I got the bright idea to check my blood pressure.
I have never seen numbers so high.
Freaked myself out...Completely.
That night I was scared to sleep fearing I'd have a heart attack or stroke.
Still sweating like a fiend.
Then I remembered the surgery.
And then I remembered the side effects from said surgery.
So now I think I have a wicked combo of early menopause with a sprinkling of high blood pressure.
Doctor visit tomorrow!
If I can scare Kaiser into giving me an appointment because I'm scared.
I started this blog last year as I recovered from my surgery. Bored on my couch. It's almost a year to the date of the pre- op that lead to the surgery.
Changes.
Changes are scary and with some of the changes I am making
or having to make,
really wanting to make because I don't want to die will no doubt make me scary.
Down from almost a pack a day to two today.
None tomorrow and there after.
Let the cranky begin.
And remember, I don't bite... Unless you're into that kinda thing.
Friday, January 06, 2006
The L Word Premier
Ok!
It's new for me to go to a function like this without my friends. Who are all lame and could not come for some strange reason. I mean so what you just had a baby! Women working in fields have babies and pick them up and keep on keeping on! So what your girlfriend wants to spend some quality time with you....That's what tomorrow is for! Just joking....kinda....well, not really. But probably a little bit.
The Wet Bar is an interesting space. I will have to go there again when it is not quite so packed. The bartenders have no soul. The fix wimpy-ass girlie drinks.
I love you TASHA!
Only Tasha can mix a drink where you have to have an extra shot of whatever juice is in your drink to make it okay. Did I mention that I love Tasha!
The episode was funny. Alice is now a drug addicted stalker...didn't see that one coming.
They gave away promotional items away like hats and shirts. I was only half paying attention. I don't like wrestling for merchandise normally. All I saw was something flying at me so instinctively I reached out to catch it before it hit me in the face. It was a cute little L Word canvas hat....ahhhhh.
Then 6-8 women fell on me for it!
Grabbing and pulling!
I am very snagable...long rope-like hair and all,
plus I am old,
and it was a canvas hat, not leather.
I could have been trampled by lesbians for a damn canvas hat!
My only response was, " Now I didn't just get knocked over by a bevy of lesbians. Ya'll broke my fucking wimpy ass drink! I could have slipped a disk! You really want this that bad?
One or to said yes.
Right, like I was going to give it to her when she made The L Word premier a contact sport.
Now that I think about it it is a somewhat contact sport!
Doria played a couple song. She is incredible!
And she remembered me!
All in all it was a good night. I even had some folks ask for my autograph on my Poetic Heart page. That almost made up for the potential concussion and slipped disk..........
Honestly that totally made up for being trampled by lesbians.
I mean if I had to get trampled by a group of people.........
It's new for me to go to a function like this without my friends. Who are all lame and could not come for some strange reason. I mean so what you just had a baby! Women working in fields have babies and pick them up and keep on keeping on! So what your girlfriend wants to spend some quality time with you....That's what tomorrow is for! Just joking....kinda....well, not really. But probably a little bit.
The Wet Bar is an interesting space. I will have to go there again when it is not quite so packed. The bartenders have no soul. The fix wimpy-ass girlie drinks.
I love you TASHA!
Only Tasha can mix a drink where you have to have an extra shot of whatever juice is in your drink to make it okay. Did I mention that I love Tasha!
The episode was funny. Alice is now a drug addicted stalker...didn't see that one coming.
They gave away promotional items away like hats and shirts. I was only half paying attention. I don't like wrestling for merchandise normally. All I saw was something flying at me so instinctively I reached out to catch it before it hit me in the face. It was a cute little L Word canvas hat....ahhhhh.
Then 6-8 women fell on me for it!
Grabbing and pulling!
I am very snagable...long rope-like hair and all,
plus I am old,
and it was a canvas hat, not leather.
I could have been trampled by lesbians for a damn canvas hat!
My only response was, " Now I didn't just get knocked over by a bevy of lesbians. Ya'll broke my fucking wimpy ass drink! I could have slipped a disk! You really want this that bad?
One or to said yes.
Right, like I was going to give it to her when she made The L Word premier a contact sport.
Now that I think about it it is a somewhat contact sport!
Doria played a couple song. She is incredible!
And she remembered me!
All in all it was a good night. I even had some folks ask for my autograph on my Poetic Heart page. That almost made up for the potential concussion and slipped disk..........
Honestly that totally made up for being trampled by lesbians.
I mean if I had to get trampled by a group of people.........
Sunday, January 01, 2006
happy new year
happy new year!
i have had one strange day.
last night was amazing!
naked pagan and uncensored was awsome.
i did not commit to the naked part cause it was fucking cold in that theater and last thing i need is to have a nipple snatched of by one of my beaded dreads. i had on a skirt and it's been years since i've done that so i feel like we are even. i drank way less than i usually do but the champange wine combination did strange things to me. i woke this morning and have no idea how i got home. i remember telling folks i was leaving ...then i woke up.
i half think someone slipped me a mickey.
the car was parked perfectly i put on pj's the whole nine. can't remember any of it. maybe i'm just old and i'm going to start developing gaps in my memory.
i saw my new godson today.
he's a sweetie!
i annoyed him into a comatose sleep.
i was told he literally popped out landing at the foot of the bed.
thank god for umbillical cords. she was just about to break down and say fuck it to natural child birth. as they were about to do the epidural ,which is a shot in your spinal cord that leaves you numb from the waist down for up to four hours , when the baby hit the panic button and ejected himself out.
that's right baby say no to drugs!
i have had one strange day.
last night was amazing!
naked pagan and uncensored was awsome.
i did not commit to the naked part cause it was fucking cold in that theater and last thing i need is to have a nipple snatched of by one of my beaded dreads. i had on a skirt and it's been years since i've done that so i feel like we are even. i drank way less than i usually do but the champange wine combination did strange things to me. i woke this morning and have no idea how i got home. i remember telling folks i was leaving ...then i woke up.
i half think someone slipped me a mickey.
the car was parked perfectly i put on pj's the whole nine. can't remember any of it. maybe i'm just old and i'm going to start developing gaps in my memory.
i saw my new godson today.
he's a sweetie!
i annoyed him into a comatose sleep.
i was told he literally popped out landing at the foot of the bed.
thank god for umbillical cords. she was just about to break down and say fuck it to natural child birth. as they were about to do the epidural ,which is a shot in your spinal cord that leaves you numb from the waist down for up to four hours , when the baby hit the panic button and ejected himself out.
that's right baby say no to drugs!
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Interesting
I got a call from bio-dad yesterday.
He never calls me on purpose so I knew something had happened.
Last time he called me on purpose, it was to inform me that his step-son had been released from prison. Like the event would change my life. He was convicted of robbery, drug possession and all the other shit crackheads do when they need a fix.
He was supposed to go to jail.
This time.
His wife died.
Another event that doesn't change my life.
He wanted me to know when the funeral would be.
Now, this woman hated me.
No more or less than I hated her.
I was the one they used to help cover the affair.
He (bio-dad) would tell my mom he was going to spend the day with the kiddies (all 4 of us), then take us to her house, lock us up in the basement with snacks, TV and toys, with her son, while they bumped uglies. Sometimes we'd be shuffled off to his mom's house. Again locked up in the basement or in the back yard forbidden to enter the house, until given permission.
He met her in church.
So in his head it wasn't an affair.
It's who god wanted him to be with.
God wanted him to leave his wife and children.
God wanted him to use his children as camouflage.
God, I suppose also had a hand in his inability to be honest with his wife about the plan.
So domestic abuse became the tool and the reason he would use to force my mom to leave for all our safety.
Like no one would know he had a church lady on the side.
She's been in bad health for years.
I remember years ago when he finally brought his ass to GA. to meet grandchildren he'll never really know. He brought his fucking mistress with him. How tacky is that? Tried to hide her. When I deduced who she was he asks me not to tell my mother. Like she would give a fuck. I said wow it's true. He said what's true. I told him,"Tell your wife she should have been careful how she got her's seems she's losing hers the same way."
He didn't think that was funny.
I simply said it was true.
Needless to say we aren't close.
My sister wants to know if I'm driving to St. Louis for the funeral.
What do you think?
She thinks I should forget and forgive.
I think I'm bored.
She passed away the day before her birthday.
That's the most interesting thing about this woman.
And possibly the only thing I'll remember about her.
He never calls me on purpose so I knew something had happened.
Last time he called me on purpose, it was to inform me that his step-son had been released from prison. Like the event would change my life. He was convicted of robbery, drug possession and all the other shit crackheads do when they need a fix.
He was supposed to go to jail.
This time.
His wife died.
Another event that doesn't change my life.
He wanted me to know when the funeral would be.
Now, this woman hated me.
No more or less than I hated her.
I was the one they used to help cover the affair.
He (bio-dad) would tell my mom he was going to spend the day with the kiddies (all 4 of us), then take us to her house, lock us up in the basement with snacks, TV and toys, with her son, while they bumped uglies. Sometimes we'd be shuffled off to his mom's house. Again locked up in the basement or in the back yard forbidden to enter the house, until given permission.
He met her in church.
So in his head it wasn't an affair.
It's who god wanted him to be with.
God wanted him to leave his wife and children.
God wanted him to use his children as camouflage.
God, I suppose also had a hand in his inability to be honest with his wife about the plan.
So domestic abuse became the tool and the reason he would use to force my mom to leave for all our safety.
Like no one would know he had a church lady on the side.
She's been in bad health for years.
I remember years ago when he finally brought his ass to GA. to meet grandchildren he'll never really know. He brought his fucking mistress with him. How tacky is that? Tried to hide her. When I deduced who she was he asks me not to tell my mother. Like she would give a fuck. I said wow it's true. He said what's true. I told him,"Tell your wife she should have been careful how she got her's seems she's losing hers the same way."
He didn't think that was funny.
I simply said it was true.
Needless to say we aren't close.
My sister wants to know if I'm driving to St. Louis for the funeral.
What do you think?
She thinks I should forget and forgive.
I think I'm bored.
She passed away the day before her birthday.
That's the most interesting thing about this woman.
And possibly the only thing I'll remember about her.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
HHHHHMMM
I have been limping so long that now that my burn has healed I keep limping.
I think my friends were right though I would never tell them this, but days off my feet did the trick. I still get the occasional stabbing pain that makes me stop and take a breath and some tender times when I have to walk gingerly but for the most part , much, much better.
I finally got my shit moved and I can not believe how much shit I have.
The house we moved from is half the size of this one and this one is full to popping.
I am hoping to be able to have some folks over soon so I've been cleaning like a mad woman.
If I get it together I will have a get together.
Just thought I'd share that!
Happy Wednesday!
I think my friends were right though I would never tell them this, but days off my feet did the trick. I still get the occasional stabbing pain that makes me stop and take a breath and some tender times when I have to walk gingerly but for the most part , much, much better.
I finally got my shit moved and I can not believe how much shit I have.
The house we moved from is half the size of this one and this one is full to popping.
I am hoping to be able to have some folks over soon so I've been cleaning like a mad woman.
If I get it together I will have a get together.
Just thought I'd share that!
Happy Wednesday!
Monday, December 26, 2005
Wrap
This has been an amazing year!
I have done so many things that were exciting, unintended, and insane.
So far, So good, I've survived it. Well I will have if I am here to update come the 1st.
The one thing I might not do that I wanted to this year is wear my hair for a shirt.
My daughters have informed me that they will be mortified if I do this. To them it is the equivalent of a nudie spread in a girlie magazine. I explained that that is what you do before three children not after. They ask me daily if I am going to do it wearing faces of pending doom. I don't know...still on the fence about it. To mortify or not to mortify? That is the question.
Last year this time I found out I had to have surgery and this blog was born.
Minor surgery in January
Major surgery in February
First out of town college campus gig in March
Several more cool gigs in April
Turned the big 40 in May
Hang out in New Orleans,
buy a cool ass hat,
first erotic photo shoot,
have my first one night stand
Sautee Nachoochee in June
3 features in July
My poetry is Choreographed ( and rocks!!!)
National Poetry Slam in New Mexico in August
and Poetic Heart is born (my page in Labrys)
Tattoo in September ( hurt like hell)
Flaming fan on October (hurt like hell)
divorce finalized,
emergency room visit with Z,
Show at Kennesaw State
New house in November
dental issues in December and now I ponder wearing my hair for a shirt.
In between all this time I have met some of the coolest people on the planet.
I am slightly disturbed by the fact that I've only had sex once this year......
shit it's like I was married again.
I will strive to do better in the new year.
I have done so many things that were exciting, unintended, and insane.
So far, So good, I've survived it. Well I will have if I am here to update come the 1st.
The one thing I might not do that I wanted to this year is wear my hair for a shirt.
My daughters have informed me that they will be mortified if I do this. To them it is the equivalent of a nudie spread in a girlie magazine. I explained that that is what you do before three children not after. They ask me daily if I am going to do it wearing faces of pending doom. I don't know...still on the fence about it. To mortify or not to mortify? That is the question.
Last year this time I found out I had to have surgery and this blog was born.
Minor surgery in January
Major surgery in February
First out of town college campus gig in March
Several more cool gigs in April
Turned the big 40 in May
Hang out in New Orleans,
buy a cool ass hat,
first erotic photo shoot,
have my first one night stand
Sautee Nachoochee in June
3 features in July
My poetry is Choreographed ( and rocks!!!)
National Poetry Slam in New Mexico in August
and Poetic Heart is born (my page in Labrys)
Tattoo in September ( hurt like hell)
Flaming fan on October (hurt like hell)
divorce finalized,
emergency room visit with Z,
Show at Kennesaw State
New house in November
dental issues in December and now I ponder wearing my hair for a shirt.
In between all this time I have met some of the coolest people on the planet.
I am slightly disturbed by the fact that I've only had sex once this year......
shit it's like I was married again.
I will strive to do better in the new year.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
So Fast
So Fast
Theresa Davis 2005
It happened so fast
so fast it was like I wasn't there
one minute I was me
the next moment
I was me in love with you
suffering lustful whiplash
that began to turn into something real
something wanted
something I don't think I can live without
it happened so fast
my mantra
I'm not the type to settle down
I'll never fall in love again
comes back on ,me
stuck on replay
taunting me with an unspoken
I told you so
as I try to catch up
try to take it all in
it just happened so damn fast
I can't remember the days when I never thought about you
cause I can't get you off of my mind
your image disturbs my sleep
memories of you burned into my retina
you reflected in every surface
you face floats in my coffee
32 oz a day
so I see you often
I wonder if you feel it too
or did it happen so fast
that I left you behind
my heart in overdrive
pounding in my ears
drowning out your words
I wonder if you feel it too
it feels like you feel it too
drawn like magnets
sliding down smooth surfaces
I'd ask
but I'm afraid of what you might say
traveling this fast
if you stop me in my tracks
it could break my heart
Theresa Davis 2005
It happened so fast
so fast it was like I wasn't there
one minute I was me
the next moment
I was me in love with you
suffering lustful whiplash
that began to turn into something real
something wanted
something I don't think I can live without
it happened so fast
my mantra
I'm not the type to settle down
I'll never fall in love again
comes back on ,me
stuck on replay
taunting me with an unspoken
I told you so
as I try to catch up
try to take it all in
it just happened so damn fast
I can't remember the days when I never thought about you
cause I can't get you off of my mind
your image disturbs my sleep
memories of you burned into my retina
you reflected in every surface
you face floats in my coffee
32 oz a day
so I see you often
I wonder if you feel it too
or did it happen so fast
that I left you behind
my heart in overdrive
pounding in my ears
drowning out your words
I wonder if you feel it too
it feels like you feel it too
drawn like magnets
sliding down smooth surfaces
I'd ask
but I'm afraid of what you might say
traveling this fast
if you stop me in my tracks
it could break my heart
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Tuesday
Who cares if it's bad for you, as long as it's good!" says Josh middleschooler extraordinaire!
I can't help but think he's right I am digging my class today in all their strangeness.
Today the father of the kidnapped twins still doesn’t have his report on child safety.
Another child left home alone.
And yet another mauled by a dog.
She wants a do-over? I told her reality not reincarnation math.
One kid has taken the diaper off his sugar baby and is funneling the sugar deposited in the diaper into his mouth.
That's gross!
I know its sugar but the idea of eating out of your baby's diaper is gross.
He said he didn't want the sugar to be wasted; I said in the diaper it represents waste.
GROSS!!!
The girl sitting next to him picked up her baby and walked away, very funny.
I am ending the baby thing on Friday. Only 3 students have kept up with their children consistently.
More Later!
I can't help but think he's right I am digging my class today in all their strangeness.
Today the father of the kidnapped twins still doesn’t have his report on child safety.
Another child left home alone.
And yet another mauled by a dog.
She wants a do-over? I told her reality not reincarnation math.
One kid has taken the diaper off his sugar baby and is funneling the sugar deposited in the diaper into his mouth.
That's gross!
I know its sugar but the idea of eating out of your baby's diaper is gross.
He said he didn't want the sugar to be wasted; I said in the diaper it represents waste.
GROSS!!!
The girl sitting next to him picked up her baby and walked away, very funny.
I am ending the baby thing on Friday. Only 3 students have kept up with their children consistently.
More Later!
Friday, December 09, 2005
She's not listening
I spent all day on Saturn....I wish the planet, felt like I was on another planet.
I didn't lose my shit today, and that's good.
I do believe I am to pretty to go to jail.
They fixed my car and caught themselves before they completely uttered $700.00, because I was on the edge. You all know I have an issue with things being hauled and falling off trucks and all I could think of while my Baby Orange was being hauled on a truck was how fucked up it would be if it fell off. And if I were driving, I would so not be behind this truck hauling a car.
So I get out of Saturn and go to the QT.
Cause that's what you do after a marathon day at Saturn.
I have been drinking coffee all day and yes at 4pm wanted more.
This woman.
This very light skin woman.
This very, very, light skinned woman, says very loudly "WHAT BEAUTIFUL BRAIDS!"
I don't respond because I don't know she's talking to me because clearly I don't wear braids.
She gets close to me as I am stirring a coffee concoction.
Note to reader: It is very tempting while at the QT to mix that fake coffee shit to make a cool and interesting flavor. It's a bad idea. Only makes it taste like many different kinds of shit.
She gets closer.
So close that instinctively I step back thinking I've somehow stepped into her personal space. Even louder than before she say"IT MUST HAVE TAKEN THEM HOURS TO MAKE ALL THOSE WONDERFUL BRAIDS. THEY ARE SIMPLY WONDERFUL, REALLY WONDERFUL."
I look around again then realize she's talking to me.
"Locks, not braids," I said.
"IT MUST HAVE TAKEN HOURS...HOW MANY HOURS DID IT TAKE."
"They aren't braids my hair grows like this."
"DID YOU GET IT DONE HERE? ARE YOU FROM HERE?"
"Not braids."
"I THINK ITS AMAZING HOW THEY DO THAT MAKE THOSE BRAIDS SO BEAUTIFUL LIKE THAT. HOW MUCH DOES IT COST FOR THEM TO BRAID IT AND DECORATE IT LIKE THAT."
This whole thing seems funny, then I feel like she's ignoring me, then I think she's an idiot, and I can't figure out why she's yelling.
"I did it myself, not braids locks."
"SOME OF THEM LOOKS SO FAKE BUT YOURS LOOKS SO NATURAL."
I want to say,"They look natural you freak because it is my hair. Not braids, not extentions, can I please stir my nasty ass coffee without you yelling at me. Can I QT in peace!?"
What I actually do is stare at her.
"CAN I TOUCH IT?"
"NO!"
"WELL IT SURE IS BEAUTIFUL, HOW LONG DID YOU SAY IT TOOK FOR THEM TO DO IT, TO MAKE THESE BEAUTIFUL BRAIDS."
Who is THEM?
I say," 12 years."
Her jaw drops, then I notice the ear piece. The crazy loud woman is on the phone. She's talking so loud to drown out the voice in her ear who is probably saying leave that person alone you crazy batty freak!
"THAT IS A LONG TIME. IT'S JUST BEAUTIFUL."
Crazy seems to be able to find me in strange places.
And I know she's going to tell somebody that she met this black women who had a braid haistyle that took 12 years to complete, "AND IT'S JUST BEAUTIFUL!"
I didn't lose my shit today, and that's good.
I do believe I am to pretty to go to jail.
They fixed my car and caught themselves before they completely uttered $700.00, because I was on the edge. You all know I have an issue with things being hauled and falling off trucks and all I could think of while my Baby Orange was being hauled on a truck was how fucked up it would be if it fell off. And if I were driving, I would so not be behind this truck hauling a car.
So I get out of Saturn and go to the QT.
Cause that's what you do after a marathon day at Saturn.
I have been drinking coffee all day and yes at 4pm wanted more.
This woman.
This very light skin woman.
This very, very, light skinned woman, says very loudly "WHAT BEAUTIFUL BRAIDS!"
I don't respond because I don't know she's talking to me because clearly I don't wear braids.
She gets close to me as I am stirring a coffee concoction.
Note to reader: It is very tempting while at the QT to mix that fake coffee shit to make a cool and interesting flavor. It's a bad idea. Only makes it taste like many different kinds of shit.
She gets closer.
So close that instinctively I step back thinking I've somehow stepped into her personal space. Even louder than before she say"IT MUST HAVE TAKEN THEM HOURS TO MAKE ALL THOSE WONDERFUL BRAIDS. THEY ARE SIMPLY WONDERFUL, REALLY WONDERFUL."
I look around again then realize she's talking to me.
"Locks, not braids," I said.
"IT MUST HAVE TAKEN HOURS...HOW MANY HOURS DID IT TAKE."
"They aren't braids my hair grows like this."
"DID YOU GET IT DONE HERE? ARE YOU FROM HERE?"
"Not braids."
"I THINK ITS AMAZING HOW THEY DO THAT MAKE THOSE BRAIDS SO BEAUTIFUL LIKE THAT. HOW MUCH DOES IT COST FOR THEM TO BRAID IT AND DECORATE IT LIKE THAT."
This whole thing seems funny, then I feel like she's ignoring me, then I think she's an idiot, and I can't figure out why she's yelling.
"I did it myself, not braids locks."
"SOME OF THEM LOOKS SO FAKE BUT YOURS LOOKS SO NATURAL."
I want to say,"They look natural you freak because it is my hair. Not braids, not extentions, can I please stir my nasty ass coffee without you yelling at me. Can I QT in peace!?"
What I actually do is stare at her.
"CAN I TOUCH IT?"
"NO!"
"WELL IT SURE IS BEAUTIFUL, HOW LONG DID YOU SAY IT TOOK FOR THEM TO DO IT, TO MAKE THESE BEAUTIFUL BRAIDS."
Who is THEM?
I say," 12 years."
Her jaw drops, then I notice the ear piece. The crazy loud woman is on the phone. She's talking so loud to drown out the voice in her ear who is probably saying leave that person alone you crazy batty freak!
"THAT IS A LONG TIME. IT'S JUST BEAUTIFUL."
Crazy seems to be able to find me in strange places.
And I know she's going to tell somebody that she met this black women who had a braid haistyle that took 12 years to complete, "AND IT'S JUST BEAUTIFUL!"
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Ahhhhhh!
I am beginning to think that I have pissed someone off in the cosmos.
Did I cut someone off in traffic,
in the middle of a conversation?
How the fuck did I manage to piss off the the flaming god of fans, dentistry and automotives at the same time? However I did it, they are grinning and sending all kinds of shit my way.
I barely made it home tonight.
My car, I love her dearly, but she is not cooperating.
I don't blame her though.
She know the shit I've been going through.
She's been their through flying Christmas trees and potential port-o-potty deaths.
She's saved me with her never failing breaks and has kept me out of several accidents.
I blame the fucking mechanics who claimed to have fixed her ailment last week.
We both blame them, they lied to us.
They touched her inner parts under the guise of fixing her.
But did they fix her?
No...they touched her goodies and put her in a position to leave me stranded.
Just like a... dare I say....MAN!
She wouldn't allow it however, she puttered me back to the safety of my very cute house.
I have mentioned how cute my house is, haven't I?
She got me home and allowed me to come in out of the rain and have a fucking fit.
I am soooooo going to tear Saturn a new one.
You'd think they'd have learned the last time
I showed up in their showroom and showed half my ass
because they abused and lied to me and my Baby Orange.
Apparently, I am going to have to show my whole ass
in order to get satisfaction.
One more fucking thing.
Which will no doubt turn into two more fucking things.
My Orange, they violated her by tweaking and probing and now she is powerless.
Damn mechanics...they have no idea who the fuck they have pissed off now.
Look for me on the news if I don't get my way!
And tomorrow's field trip day too!
Ahhhhhh!
Did I cut someone off in traffic,
in the middle of a conversation?
How the fuck did I manage to piss off the the flaming god of fans, dentistry and automotives at the same time? However I did it, they are grinning and sending all kinds of shit my way.
I barely made it home tonight.
My car, I love her dearly, but she is not cooperating.
I don't blame her though.
She know the shit I've been going through.
She's been their through flying Christmas trees and potential port-o-potty deaths.
She's saved me with her never failing breaks and has kept me out of several accidents.
I blame the fucking mechanics who claimed to have fixed her ailment last week.
We both blame them, they lied to us.
They touched her inner parts under the guise of fixing her.
But did they fix her?
No...they touched her goodies and put her in a position to leave me stranded.
Just like a... dare I say....MAN!
She wouldn't allow it however, she puttered me back to the safety of my very cute house.
I have mentioned how cute my house is, haven't I?
She got me home and allowed me to come in out of the rain and have a fucking fit.
I am soooooo going to tear Saturn a new one.
You'd think they'd have learned the last time
I showed up in their showroom and showed half my ass
because they abused and lied to me and my Baby Orange.
Apparently, I am going to have to show my whole ass
in order to get satisfaction.
One more fucking thing.
Which will no doubt turn into two more fucking things.
My Orange, they violated her by tweaking and probing and now she is powerless.
Damn mechanics...they have no idea who the fuck they have pissed off now.
Look for me on the news if I don't get my way!
And tomorrow's field trip day too!
Ahhhhhh!
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Tonight, get off your ass and come out!
I think I go on fairly early, come out come out, right now dammitt!
A GIFT OF WORDS
an evening with
Atlanta GLBTQ Poets and Writers
Ponce De Leon Library
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 7th
8 PM
Robin White
Robin Kemp
Collin Kelley
Vimal Jairath
Theresa Davis
Stan D
C. Cleo Creech
Melinda Kingsley
and host
Franklin Abbott
Please join us for an evening of readings and refreshments at the Ponce De Leon Branch
of the Atlanta Fulton Public Library,
980 Ponce de Leon Avenue.
The Ponce Branch is home of Atlanta's GLBTQ collection
of books, movies and music curated by Cal Gough.
Donations of books, cd's and dvd's are welcome.
This event is free and open to all.
an evening with
Atlanta GLBTQ Poets and Writers
Ponce De Leon Library
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 7th
8 PM
Robin White
Robin Kemp
Collin Kelley
Vimal Jairath
Theresa Davis
Stan D
C. Cleo Creech
Melinda Kingsley
and host
Franklin Abbott
Please join us for an evening of readings and refreshments at the Ponce De Leon Branch
of the Atlanta Fulton Public Library,
980 Ponce de Leon Avenue.
The Ponce Branch is home of Atlanta's GLBTQ collection
of books, movies and music curated by Cal Gough.
Donations of books, cd's and dvd's are welcome.
This event is free and open to all.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Criminal
I guess it had to happen.
I mean it was only a matter of time.
Hanging out with those kinds of people.
Those unsure,
all about taking chances not consequences.
I should have known that one of them would do it.
Leave their five pound sugar baby unattended,
hell, let's be honest left the sugary bundle of joy outside in the rain,
twins,
can it get any worst.
They had to be taken so my class has made me a kidnapper.
The ransom is a loss of 30 parent points per kid and a paper on child safety.
Enough of that.
I am bored.
Out of my fucking mind but have no desire to go out to meet people.
I am wearing this undatable thing like a fucking medal and it's starting to bug me.
This week end I went out briefly but mostly I was a home body.
I am in a degree of pain but sitting in my bed sipping wine and reading a book I thought nice! Could be nicer with some special someone
should I get up off my ass and look for someone,
but again that would defeat the purpose for if
you have to look for them they are not special they were stalked.
So this is me not looking but sipping my wine reading the new
James Patterson mystery with kidnapped sugar babies,
a pained foot ( damn flaming fan of death, i will be in pain for at least a year, just because I didn't want my family to burn up. Limping in and out of pain for a year...how fucked up is that)
and facial swelling.
The warranty is definitely up and my ass is falling apart.
But the book is good, so far and the wine is tasty.
And if the sugar babies ransom isn't made
the sugar cookies I am sure will be tasty as well.....
it's criminal!
I mean it was only a matter of time.
Hanging out with those kinds of people.
Those unsure,
all about taking chances not consequences.
I should have known that one of them would do it.
Leave their five pound sugar baby unattended,
hell, let's be honest left the sugary bundle of joy outside in the rain,
twins,
can it get any worst.
They had to be taken so my class has made me a kidnapper.
The ransom is a loss of 30 parent points per kid and a paper on child safety.
Enough of that.
I am bored.
Out of my fucking mind but have no desire to go out to meet people.
I am wearing this undatable thing like a fucking medal and it's starting to bug me.
This week end I went out briefly but mostly I was a home body.
I am in a degree of pain but sitting in my bed sipping wine and reading a book I thought nice! Could be nicer with some special someone
should I get up off my ass and look for someone,
but again that would defeat the purpose for if
you have to look for them they are not special they were stalked.
So this is me not looking but sipping my wine reading the new
James Patterson mystery with kidnapped sugar babies,
a pained foot ( damn flaming fan of death, i will be in pain for at least a year, just because I didn't want my family to burn up. Limping in and out of pain for a year...how fucked up is that)
and facial swelling.
The warranty is definitely up and my ass is falling apart.
But the book is good, so far and the wine is tasty.
And if the sugar babies ransom isn't made
the sugar cookies I am sure will be tasty as well.....
it's criminal!
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Reality
It's that time of year again and reality math has begun!
Reality math is something I do during that awkward time from Thanksgiving Break to Winter Break. Not really enough time to get into new things so we concentrate for the most part on life skills.
So each middle schooler will give birth to a five pound sugar baby tomorrow!
A few of them will be premies as now sugar comes in a 4lb bag and I really hadn't noticed. It's just about the same price we are being ripped off left and right, less for more and all that.
Well anyway, two kids will have twins....Oh joy.
I considered letting them be couples but then it could become more real with all the squabbling that already exists. I mean could you imagine being saddled with twins and a spouse who loses their job, they would end up really hating each other rather that the pure animosity they hold for each other.
Plus as it was brought to my attention by one of my female students,
"None of the boys are cute our baby would be ugly!"
I reminded her that no matter how her spouse looked her baby would still look like a five pound bag of sugar. She said I didn't get it.
The boys remarked tha none of the girls were cute and most of them had chicken legs.
Again I assured them that there baby wouldn't have chicken legs for it is still a bag of sugar. Again I didn't get it.
What they don't know is that I totally get it.
They don't want it to appear like they are boyfriend and girlfriend and they also don't want to make request because then I'd know who liked who.
Also my number ratios boy to girl are off so one couple would have to be gay.
They kinda liked that idea.
I told them I don't think that they are as open minded as they think they are and surely their parents might protest.
Where more parents were outted.
I love my job.
My boys were the first to bring in their intended bundles of sugary joy.
I found that interesting.
Most of them were dressed...
badly and very insulated in case of accidental dropping.
One asked if he could wrap his baby in duct tape.
My response was simple,"If you wrap a real baby in duct tape, you will go to jail."
No the only thing they can wrap their babies in are their loving arms.
There was some wretching at this comment.
I told them I would be embossing a birthmark on their babies at bith.
"Why?"
"So if you try to replace the baby should he or she be dropped or exploded, I'll know."
One confused kid says,"How are you going to embalm the baby?"
"Your baby is a bag of sugar, it would have to have been alive for me to embalm it."
Then I had to explain embossing.
"Will it hurt the baby?"
"It's not alive!" Then I said,"Think of it as a circumcision."
They looked perplexed and then after I explained that one I though the boys were going to throw up and some kept their legs crossed most of the day.
There will be some interesting conversations at dinner tonight.
They chose their careers, not very realistic.
I explained that they start off at a base pay and if they draw a card where they continue their education or get a Master's degree or a raise then they make more money. They get to keep a budget, write checks and pull life cards.
Some say things like,"Hey lead foot that policeman got you on radar. Pay a 200.00 ticket"
or " You find a wallet and return it to the owner. $50.00 reward"
It will be fun.
Already two of my boys children have band-aids.
Then one thought to ask me what happens if their babies don't weigh the same after 3 weeks.
I told them I also double as the Department of Family and Children Services. They start off with 100 parent points and can lose or gain them as they handle and care for their baby. I also have ransome note for those parents who leave their child at school when they leave. They will have to pay big to get them back.
Hey, I've got to have some fun!
Reality math is something I do during that awkward time from Thanksgiving Break to Winter Break. Not really enough time to get into new things so we concentrate for the most part on life skills.
So each middle schooler will give birth to a five pound sugar baby tomorrow!
A few of them will be premies as now sugar comes in a 4lb bag and I really hadn't noticed. It's just about the same price we are being ripped off left and right, less for more and all that.
Well anyway, two kids will have twins....Oh joy.
I considered letting them be couples but then it could become more real with all the squabbling that already exists. I mean could you imagine being saddled with twins and a spouse who loses their job, they would end up really hating each other rather that the pure animosity they hold for each other.
Plus as it was brought to my attention by one of my female students,
"None of the boys are cute our baby would be ugly!"
I reminded her that no matter how her spouse looked her baby would still look like a five pound bag of sugar. She said I didn't get it.
The boys remarked tha none of the girls were cute and most of them had chicken legs.
Again I assured them that there baby wouldn't have chicken legs for it is still a bag of sugar. Again I didn't get it.
What they don't know is that I totally get it.
They don't want it to appear like they are boyfriend and girlfriend and they also don't want to make request because then I'd know who liked who.
Also my number ratios boy to girl are off so one couple would have to be gay.
They kinda liked that idea.
I told them I don't think that they are as open minded as they think they are and surely their parents might protest.
Where more parents were outted.
I love my job.
My boys were the first to bring in their intended bundles of sugary joy.
I found that interesting.
Most of them were dressed...
badly and very insulated in case of accidental dropping.
One asked if he could wrap his baby in duct tape.
My response was simple,"If you wrap a real baby in duct tape, you will go to jail."
No the only thing they can wrap their babies in are their loving arms.
There was some wretching at this comment.
I told them I would be embossing a birthmark on their babies at bith.
"Why?"
"So if you try to replace the baby should he or she be dropped or exploded, I'll know."
One confused kid says,"How are you going to embalm the baby?"
"Your baby is a bag of sugar, it would have to have been alive for me to embalm it."
Then I had to explain embossing.
"Will it hurt the baby?"
"It's not alive!" Then I said,"Think of it as a circumcision."
They looked perplexed and then after I explained that one I though the boys were going to throw up and some kept their legs crossed most of the day.
There will be some interesting conversations at dinner tonight.
They chose their careers, not very realistic.
I explained that they start off at a base pay and if they draw a card where they continue their education or get a Master's degree or a raise then they make more money. They get to keep a budget, write checks and pull life cards.
Some say things like,"Hey lead foot that policeman got you on radar. Pay a 200.00 ticket"
or " You find a wallet and return it to the owner. $50.00 reward"
It will be fun.
Already two of my boys children have band-aids.
Then one thought to ask me what happens if their babies don't weigh the same after 3 weeks.
I told them I also double as the Department of Family and Children Services. They start off with 100 parent points and can lose or gain them as they handle and care for their baby. I also have ransome note for those parents who leave their child at school when they leave. They will have to pay big to get them back.
Hey, I've got to have some fun!
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Full
You may be full of food!
But are you full of food for thought!
Poetic words of praise,
Poetic pontification of the kind that nourishes you beyond the likes of Turkey or Tofurkey whichever it may be?
Monday November 28th is the day of the feast for your ears......
The Red Light Cafe 8PM
553 Amsterdam Ave, GA
404.874.7828
Your Entree
Ami Mattison
Your delicious side dishes and desserts......
Amanda Kail
Theresa Davis
Gypsee Yo
and the yummy
Sonia Tetlow
Now you know
But are you full of food for thought!
Poetic words of praise,
Poetic pontification of the kind that nourishes you beyond the likes of Turkey or Tofurkey whichever it may be?
Monday November 28th is the day of the feast for your ears......
The Red Light Cafe 8PM
553 Amsterdam Ave, GA
404.874.7828
Your Entree
Ami Mattison
Your delicious side dishes and desserts......
Amanda Kail
Theresa Davis
Gypsee Yo
and the yummy
Sonia Tetlow
Now you know
that you are drooling at the prospect
of such a delicious mental meal.....
Soups on....
COME AND GET IT!!!!!!!!
Soups on....
COME AND GET IT!!!!!!!!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Cafe Medusa
I feel so sorry for all those who didn't get off their ass and come to 7 Stages this week end! All of you who didn't get the chance to experience the experience known forever more as Cafe Medusa, experienced some kind of abuse. You were culturally, artistically, poetically and creatively abused! Not sure who we report that sort of thing to but you should not allow yourself to suffer such abuse again.
So much art, all ages all sizes, all colors all women all over!!!!!
Even naked ones, on bikes noless!
make sure you get off your duff and make it to the next show at 7 Stages. December 31, 2005 join the Word Diversity Collective for Naked, Pagan and Uncensored!!!!
Monday, November 14, 2005
dang
sorry i reread my post and it's just chalk full of cussing.
i am calmer now see notice how i am writing in lowecase letters.
but i did get this very funny picture that i am going to try to load, hope it comes through.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
So Tired
Another fabulous week of moving!
I am exhausted.
Between the burned foot and the swollen jaw(toothache) I am done.
I have managed however to get almost all of it done. Two rooms to go. My office, a very scary and insane place, looks like Katrina, Wilma and Rita went through, had a party, drank all my liquor, then threw up on my floor. And we all know, them bitches are crazy!!
Another week of moving and teaching and no poetry.
I so wanted to slam tonight.
My jaw hurts so much that performing any poetry with the letters a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,I,j,k,l,m,n,o,p,q,r,s,t,u,v,w,y,z in it hurts.
I can however pronounce x.
As in X-husband.
So I am slowly reclaiming myself and my inner whore has calmed considerably as I don't have the urge to meet someone. It wouldn't matter if I were interested in someone I have heard that I am undate able. I may be undateable but I can put fucking IKEA furniture together. It's good that I am in this place. I have a tendancy to dote on partners.
I'd end up spending all my money quite possibly on someone who can't grasp the me I am now.
I'd still like a playmate or something someone to go to movies with snuggle and have incredible occasional sex with....Did I mention I bought a new mattress. And baby it ain't no saltine, it's a motherfucking RITZ. Like sleeping in butter all pillowy soft......I've never spent a mortgage payment on a mattress but you know what I'm fucking worth it and if I want it I get it.
That's my new motto.
Whatever the fuck I want,
you'd better fucking give it to me,
or get the fuck out of my way
so I can get it my Fucking self!!
Much to long to put on a T-shirt but I think you get the point.
I am hopeful that by next week I am more or less settled.
Then I will be out and about.
I love my house.
It makes me want to stay inside and chill.
I do miss my friends, though.
Hopefully I'll be up to snuff, no more aching and pain.
C U all soon!! That is if you live in Atlanta and just happen to know me and are where I am when I am there.
I am exhausted.
Between the burned foot and the swollen jaw(toothache) I am done.
I have managed however to get almost all of it done. Two rooms to go. My office, a very scary and insane place, looks like Katrina, Wilma and Rita went through, had a party, drank all my liquor, then threw up on my floor. And we all know, them bitches are crazy!!
Another week of moving and teaching and no poetry.
I so wanted to slam tonight.
My jaw hurts so much that performing any poetry with the letters a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,I,j,k,l,m,n,o,p,q,r,s,t,u,v,w,y,z in it hurts.
I can however pronounce x.
As in X-husband.
So I am slowly reclaiming myself and my inner whore has calmed considerably as I don't have the urge to meet someone. It wouldn't matter if I were interested in someone I have heard that I am undate able. I may be undateable but I can put fucking IKEA furniture together. It's good that I am in this place. I have a tendancy to dote on partners.
I'd end up spending all my money quite possibly on someone who can't grasp the me I am now.
I'd still like a playmate or something someone to go to movies with snuggle and have incredible occasional sex with....Did I mention I bought a new mattress. And baby it ain't no saltine, it's a motherfucking RITZ. Like sleeping in butter all pillowy soft......I've never spent a mortgage payment on a mattress but you know what I'm fucking worth it and if I want it I get it.
That's my new motto.
Whatever the fuck I want,
you'd better fucking give it to me,
or get the fuck out of my way
so I can get it my Fucking self!!
Much to long to put on a T-shirt but I think you get the point.
I am hopeful that by next week I am more or less settled.
Then I will be out and about.
I love my house.
It makes me want to stay inside and chill.
I do miss my friends, though.
Hopefully I'll be up to snuff, no more aching and pain.
C U all soon!! That is if you live in Atlanta and just happen to know me and are where I am when I am there.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Creativity is Dead!
Why is it that random assholes feel the need,
no the urge,
no the desire
to sing Bob Marley tunes when they pass me on the street?
Is that the best they can do?
Should I slap them silly or shake them senseless?
It kills me when this happens and believe and it or not it happens mostly in MALLs ( Many Assholes Lavishly Lurking, I hate malls) and in Little 5 Points!
The first doesn't surprise me and it's mostly Yuppies trying to pass.
Maybe they think they're making a cultural connection, or I should be honored that they even know who Marley, or Tosh are? Or should I be offended that they have nothing new to offer, or that they in their ignorance may be implying that they think I am a Rasta?
I am not a Rasta.
I'm lazy.
There is a difference.
I love the idea of hair, for I feel it can be very alluring and sexy as hell even on a head that's not dreaded.
I however hate the idea of perming,
curling,
processing,
styling,
frizzing,
for sitting under dryers,
crimpers,
and all other forms of torture that are and is hair related.
The idea of wash and go appeals to me.
I wash it, I get on with my fucking life.
I don't have to be spritzed or gelled, which if you think about it, if someone walked up to you and said,"Hey baby, can I spritz you?' You'd probably beat him or her within an inch of their lives, that is unless you are into being spritzed or gelled....ehew.
I have almost finished moving, and let me tell you, I don't ever want to do this shit again!
I love my new how and will have a Liberation New Lease on Life party as soon as it is possible.
I haven't written anything in so long I can't wait till I can, cause I have a lot of shit to say.
I am going to try to slam tonight which could be comical, sense I am exhausted and sleep deprived, who knows what will come out of my mouth.
Back to the random raggae tuners.
Instead of sing raggae song when you see me try simply saying," Hey, or what' up." Then maybe I won't sneer and use my Voodoo powers to shrink you genitals, or make hair grow from strange places.........Just kidding so don't feel compelled to sing bayou tunes either.
"Hi" works!
no the urge,
no the desire
to sing Bob Marley tunes when they pass me on the street?
Is that the best they can do?
Should I slap them silly or shake them senseless?
It kills me when this happens and believe and it or not it happens mostly in MALLs ( Many Assholes Lavishly Lurking, I hate malls) and in Little 5 Points!
The first doesn't surprise me and it's mostly Yuppies trying to pass.
Maybe they think they're making a cultural connection, or I should be honored that they even know who Marley, or Tosh are? Or should I be offended that they have nothing new to offer, or that they in their ignorance may be implying that they think I am a Rasta?
I am not a Rasta.
I'm lazy.
There is a difference.
I love the idea of hair, for I feel it can be very alluring and sexy as hell even on a head that's not dreaded.
I however hate the idea of perming,
curling,
processing,
styling,
frizzing,
for sitting under dryers,
crimpers,
and all other forms of torture that are and is hair related.
The idea of wash and go appeals to me.
I wash it, I get on with my fucking life.
I don't have to be spritzed or gelled, which if you think about it, if someone walked up to you and said,"Hey baby, can I spritz you?' You'd probably beat him or her within an inch of their lives, that is unless you are into being spritzed or gelled....ehew.
I have almost finished moving, and let me tell you, I don't ever want to do this shit again!
I love my new how and will have a Liberation New Lease on Life party as soon as it is possible.
I haven't written anything in so long I can't wait till I can, cause I have a lot of shit to say.
I am going to try to slam tonight which could be comical, sense I am exhausted and sleep deprived, who knows what will come out of my mouth.
Back to the random raggae tuners.
Instead of sing raggae song when you see me try simply saying," Hey, or what' up." Then maybe I won't sneer and use my Voodoo powers to shrink you genitals, or make hair grow from strange places.........Just kidding so don't feel compelled to sing bayou tunes either.
"Hi" works!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Final House of Poets....sob
Poets- Show us what you got and you could win $50 and a spot representing Atlanta at the 2006 National Poetry Slam
Poet Lovers.....SEE Atlanta Poets battle it out for a piece of glory (Because hey- when do poets ever get glory?)
AND it's last call at the House.
Help us finish off the House of Poets tradition with something memorable. So you can look back and say, "I was THERE..."
ART AMOK SLAM
&
FINAL HOUSE OF POETS SHOW
Monday, November 7
8:00
Red Light Cafe
553 Amsterdam
Atlanta
$5
www.houseofpoets.com
www.worddc.org
Poet Lovers.....SEE Atlanta Poets battle it out for a piece of glory (Because hey- when do poets ever get glory?)
AND it's last call at the House.
Help us finish off the House of Poets tradition with something memorable. So you can look back and say, "I was THERE..."
ART AMOK SLAM
&
FINAL HOUSE OF POETS SHOW
Monday, November 7
8:00
Red Light Cafe
553 Amsterdam
Atlanta
$5
www.houseofpoets.com
www.worddc.org
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Random Stuff
hey there,
I am so friggin tired.
Got so much shit to do and I am experiencing a serious poetry withdrawl accompanied by IKEA addiction. That store is so full of all the stuff I need, it's consumer crack.
I HAVEN'T DONE AN OPEN MIC IN THREE WEEKS!!!
It's enough to drive a soul to shop at IKEA.
I seem to be in a rut.
But IKEA will set me free!!!
I am moving this week end. Sweet, but it sucks. I hate moving. It takes forever and at the same time never gets done on some level.
Gotta go move more shit and build my new IKEA building sets.
see ya
I am so friggin tired.
Got so much shit to do and I am experiencing a serious poetry withdrawl accompanied by IKEA addiction. That store is so full of all the stuff I need, it's consumer crack.
I HAVEN'T DONE AN OPEN MIC IN THREE WEEKS!!!
It's enough to drive a soul to shop at IKEA.
I seem to be in a rut.
But IKEA will set me free!!!
I am moving this week end. Sweet, but it sucks. I hate moving. It takes forever and at the same time never gets done on some level.
Gotta go move more shit and build my new IKEA building sets.
see ya
Friday, October 28, 2005
THE NIGHT BEFORE FITZMAS
This is some funny shit and I wish I wrote it!!!!!
THE NIGHT BEFORE FITZMAS
Anonymously submitted to Portside
'Twas the night before Fitzmas, and in the White House
Every one was scared shitless, and Bush was quite soused.
The indictments were hanging like Damocles' sword
As verminous oxen prepared to be gored.
The perps were all sleepless, curled fetal in bed,
While visions of prison cells loomed in each head.
And Dick in his jammies and George in his lap
Were sweating and swearing and looking like crap.
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
The blogs and the forums were buzzing with chatter.
Away to the PC Rove ran like a flash;
He booted his browser and cleared out his cache.
The rumors that flew through the cold autumn air
Made Dubya shiver with angry despair.
When what to his horror-filled eyes did he spy?
A bespectacled man with a brown suit and tie!
With an impartial manner that gave Bush the shits,
He knew in a moment it must be St. Fitz!
With unwavering voice, his indictments they came.
He cleared out his throat and he called them by name:
Now Scooter, Now Libby,
Now Blossoming Turd,
Now Cheney, dear Cheney,
Yes, you are the third.
To the bench of the court,
Up the steps, down the hall,
Now come along, come along,
Come along, all!
He then became silent and went right to work.
He filed the indictments and turned with a jerk
And, pointing his finger at justice's scale,
Said, "The people be served, and let fairness prevail."
He then left the room, to his team gave a nod,
And the sound could be heard of a crumbling facade.
And we all did exclaim, as he faded from sight
"Merry Fitzmas to all, and to all a good
night!"
_______________________________________________________portside (the left side in nautical parlance) is a news,discussion and debate service of the Committees ofCorrespondence for Democracy and Socialism. It aims toprovide varied material of interest to people on the left.
THE NIGHT BEFORE FITZMAS
Anonymously submitted to Portside
'Twas the night before Fitzmas, and in the White House
Every one was scared shitless, and Bush was quite soused.
The indictments were hanging like Damocles' sword
As verminous oxen prepared to be gored.
The perps were all sleepless, curled fetal in bed,
While visions of prison cells loomed in each head.
And Dick in his jammies and George in his lap
Were sweating and swearing and looking like crap.
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
The blogs and the forums were buzzing with chatter.
Away to the PC Rove ran like a flash;
He booted his browser and cleared out his cache.
The rumors that flew through the cold autumn air
Made Dubya shiver with angry despair.
When what to his horror-filled eyes did he spy?
A bespectacled man with a brown suit and tie!
With an impartial manner that gave Bush the shits,
He knew in a moment it must be St. Fitz!
With unwavering voice, his indictments they came.
He cleared out his throat and he called them by name:
Now Scooter, Now Libby,
Now Blossoming Turd,
Now Cheney, dear Cheney,
Yes, you are the third.
To the bench of the court,
Up the steps, down the hall,
Now come along, come along,
Come along, all!
He then became silent and went right to work.
He filed the indictments and turned with a jerk
And, pointing his finger at justice's scale,
Said, "The people be served, and let fairness prevail."
He then left the room, to his team gave a nod,
And the sound could be heard of a crumbling facade.
And we all did exclaim, as he faded from sight
"Merry Fitzmas to all, and to all a good
night!"
_______________________________________________________portside (the left side in nautical parlance) is a news,discussion and debate service of the Committees ofCorrespondence for Democracy and Socialism. It aims toprovide varied material of interest to people on the left.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Done!!
The fat lady has sung,
the war has been won,
the goddamn cakes done
T can go have some fun
The ship has sailed,
the felon made bail,
the chips have fallen where they may
freedom came in the light of day
I am so happy I could hit the ceiling
the deed is done
Elvis has left the building
really bad poetry for a really good day!!!!!
and yes I know it sounds cliche
but shut up and get off your ass
join me at the brew house for a giant Bass
Ale that is............
the war has been won,
the goddamn cakes done
T can go have some fun
The ship has sailed,
the felon made bail,
the chips have fallen where they may
freedom came in the light of day
I am so happy I could hit the ceiling
the deed is done
Elvis has left the building
really bad poetry for a really good day!!!!!
and yes I know it sounds cliche
but shut up and get off your ass
join me at the brew house for a giant Bass
Ale that is............
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Too Much Stuff
Wow! Where to begin. This has been and continues to be a very strange month. I had my show in Sautee this past weekend and it was GREAT! Gypsee Yo came down and knocked their socks off! If it wasn't for that straight married thing I'd be so in love with her for different reasons, for now she is one of the most together under thirties I know! And I LOVE THAT!! It's such a rare thing! The show was great!
I came home on Sunday and when I got my son back from his dad he had a fever and was struggling with his breathing.
I thought he's coming down with a cold.
I went to the pharmacy to get Motrin to do the Tylenol and Motrin molotalf cocktail, the sure fire way to reduce a fever quickly.
When I returned his breathing was extremely shallow.
I made a phone call and then off we went to the emergency room.
His dad showed and it was not a pleasant experience for me, to say the least.
How can the phrase "DON'T TALK TO ME!" Translate to talk to me often about shit!
They gave my baby 6 Abuterol treatments in less than 24 hours.
He was running around like a baby crackhead!
Heart buzzing and going, going, going!
They ended up admitting him.
More steroids and breathing treatments.
It's pneumonia, it's asthma, no it's pneumonia, we think it's asthma!
They don't fucking know what it is!
He was treated for both!
Doctors are idiots with licenses.
Z doesn't have insurance because someone (whom I shall be divorced from with the quickness next week! Yeah!) refused to pay the forty bucks a month I requested.
Well I guess he much preferred the more than TWO- THOUSAND dollars he will be charged, because yes, I told them he would be responsible for the bill.
Take all his info including and especially his social security number!
Marriage is almost as big a joke as medicine!
NEITHER of which to me are funny!
And I have a great sense of humor!
Ask me and I will tell you how funny I am DAMMITT!!!!!
I cannot wait until next Tuesday!
I will be seeing you at the BREWHOUSE @9PM to Celebrate!!!!!!!!!
We will be drinking to me never making this mistake again,
Marriage is evil!!!
EVIL!!!
EVIL!!!!!
I came home on Sunday and when I got my son back from his dad he had a fever and was struggling with his breathing.
I thought he's coming down with a cold.
I went to the pharmacy to get Motrin to do the Tylenol and Motrin molotalf cocktail, the sure fire way to reduce a fever quickly.
When I returned his breathing was extremely shallow.
I made a phone call and then off we went to the emergency room.
His dad showed and it was not a pleasant experience for me, to say the least.
How can the phrase "DON'T TALK TO ME!" Translate to talk to me often about shit!
They gave my baby 6 Abuterol treatments in less than 24 hours.
He was running around like a baby crackhead!
Heart buzzing and going, going, going!
They ended up admitting him.
More steroids and breathing treatments.
It's pneumonia, it's asthma, no it's pneumonia, we think it's asthma!
They don't fucking know what it is!
He was treated for both!
Doctors are idiots with licenses.
Z doesn't have insurance because someone (whom I shall be divorced from with the quickness next week! Yeah!) refused to pay the forty bucks a month I requested.
Well I guess he much preferred the more than TWO- THOUSAND dollars he will be charged, because yes, I told them he would be responsible for the bill.
Take all his info including and especially his social security number!
Marriage is almost as big a joke as medicine!
NEITHER of which to me are funny!
And I have a great sense of humor!
Ask me and I will tell you how funny I am DAMMITT!!!!!
I cannot wait until next Tuesday!
I will be seeing you at the BREWHOUSE @9PM to Celebrate!!!!!!!!!
We will be drinking to me never making this mistake again,
Marriage is evil!!!
EVIL!!!
EVIL!!!!!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
How the World Turns or My Stomach
no capitalization this is a rant.
so with all the insanely odd things that have been happening to me lately, i have had to take a step back and try to get a fix on it. because as strange as it has been cool things have happened in between and around all the crazy.
so getting ripped off at church...... deep meaning
"don't drop your guard even in those places where it would seem you'd be the safest, shit happens and it can happen to you!"
near death by port o potty.........deep meaning
"don't follow shit that's carrying shit, cause shit happens and it can happen to you!"
possible attempted robbery.........deep meaning
"there are people who look at every one as a victim, they believe they can create victims and they are often right. don't underestimate the mean in people be wacthful so that when shit happens it doesn't have to involve you being robbed, shot, raped or some other fucked up shitty situation!"
possible death by flaming fan.......deep meaning
" when you buy shit made by people there is a good chance the workmanship will also be shitty and that shit may one day burst into flames at some ungodly hour and when shit like that happens you can't have a shit fit and freak you just have to handle your shit!"
Divorce becoming final on Oct. 25.......deep meaning
"freedom from all the other shit!"
so with all the insanely odd things that have been happening to me lately, i have had to take a step back and try to get a fix on it. because as strange as it has been cool things have happened in between and around all the crazy.
so getting ripped off at church...... deep meaning
"don't drop your guard even in those places where it would seem you'd be the safest, shit happens and it can happen to you!"
near death by port o potty.........deep meaning
"don't follow shit that's carrying shit, cause shit happens and it can happen to you!"
possible attempted robbery.........deep meaning
"there are people who look at every one as a victim, they believe they can create victims and they are often right. don't underestimate the mean in people be wacthful so that when shit happens it doesn't have to involve you being robbed, shot, raped or some other fucked up shitty situation!"
possible death by flaming fan.......deep meaning
" when you buy shit made by people there is a good chance the workmanship will also be shitty and that shit may one day burst into flames at some ungodly hour and when shit like that happens you can't have a shit fit and freak you just have to handle your shit!"
Divorce becoming final on Oct. 25.......deep meaning
"freedom from all the other shit!"
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Freedom
Join me for a drink to toast my official freedom!
It's about goddamn time!!!
The Brewhouse October 25th @ 9pm!!!!!!
If you can make it please do, The home of The Big Ass Beer, cause this is a Big Ass Deal!
Hope to see you there!!!!!
Theresa Davis
Single woman
It's about goddamn time!!!
The Brewhouse October 25th @ 9pm!!!!!!
If you can make it please do, The home of The Big Ass Beer, cause this is a Big Ass Deal!
Hope to see you there!!!!!
Theresa Davis
Single woman
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
OH MY GODDESS
My whole class is suffering from some kind of adolescent reflux crossed with kiddy alsheimer, add a touch of rainman. Definitely, definitely strange. They just keep yelling out random crazy shit. I have no idea what they are saying. One actually had the nerve to answer his cell phone during a math lesson. I came so close to cursing.
instead I said
"Do you have a problem?"
" I thought it was my dad?"
"why would your dad call you at school?"
"his car might have broken down?"
"what kind of sense does that make? If it did break down what could you do?"
"he could pick me up and I could help him." (in a whinning voice)
" are you injured?"
"huh"
"are you injured? Did you hit your head or ingest some mind numbing substance?"
"huh"
"if your dad's car broke down how could he come to pick you up? And what mechanical skills do you have that would make your help more important than say.... A mechanic?"
"huh"
"answer the phone again in school and it becomes an archeological artifact buried in the bottom of my desk never to be found again."
"huh"
the entire class,"TURN OFF THE PHONE, STUPID!"
"Huh"
Never a dull moment in middle school.
instead I said
"Do you have a problem?"
" I thought it was my dad?"
"why would your dad call you at school?"
"his car might have broken down?"
"what kind of sense does that make? If it did break down what could you do?"
"he could pick me up and I could help him." (in a whinning voice)
" are you injured?"
"huh"
"are you injured? Did you hit your head or ingest some mind numbing substance?"
"huh"
"if your dad's car broke down how could he come to pick you up? And what mechanical skills do you have that would make your help more important than say.... A mechanic?"
"huh"
"answer the phone again in school and it becomes an archeological artifact buried in the bottom of my desk never to be found again."
"huh"
the entire class,"TURN OFF THE PHONE, STUPID!"
"Huh"
Never a dull moment in middle school.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Pirate Pic
I made a damn good PIRATE if I do say so myself!
We couldn't plunder on an empty gullet....arrrr So we cast off to Steak a Shake me harty!
Friday, September 30, 2005
Emergency Room
This is an oxy moron.
I know I should have gone to the emergency room this morning, but my kids were spent and I didn't think it was that bad. Daylight showed something different. I let the kids sleep in. I told them to get there when they were rested. I went to class.
I know I am stubborn.
I know I should have gone to the doctor right away.
I also know that I take my responsibilities very seriously and my class, is mine.
I didn't want to try to arrange a sub, freak them out because they know I don't miss school. Up until this year I only missed three days of school.
I was having a baby, and we were both in class on the fourth day.
I had a good time with my class today.
They made me realize how lucky I was.
When I told them what happened my favorite kid in the world,
that I didn't birth, was upset.
He said he was mad at me.
He was glad I saved my kids and home but he was mad and wondered why my arms and face weren't burned.
I hadn't thought of that.
They should have been.
The plastic was melting in my hands and the only reason I stepped on the hot plastic was because I had to turn my face away from the flames.
I am lucky. Possibly insane.
I was ok until the throbbing started.
Josh, my favorite, made me smile through all my pain.
He was being questioned by another student about why he was still in my class.
Josh decided when I was his fourth grade teacher he decided tha he needed to stay in my class another year.
His father said it was his decision, and when Josh decides something that's it.
When Josh wouldn't answer him the kid asked me.
I said it was because Josh loved me and felt he needed more time to learn in my class.
I told him I was honored by his decision and it has made me a better teacher.
Josh blushed a rainbow.
Made me smile.
Later I wanted to take an aspirin and asked Josh to go to the Highschool and get me a soda from the machine. He asked if he could get himself one.
I said yes.
There is a rule about using the machines and when the other students saw he had one they started complaining.
"Why does he get to get a soda and we can't," they demanded. The largest protestor a Vegan who doesn't even drink soda.
Josh slammed his soda on the table and said, " Because she LOVES me more than you!"
The soda coming from my nose took my mind off the pain and the aspirin, and the stunned silence of my class, cracked my shit up.
Later on one asked," You love us all, right?"
"Yes," I said.
Josh explained to them that of course I would say that,"Theresa is a nice person, she doesn't want to hurt your feelings, but don't get it confused," he said.
The phrase I have been trying to teach him is "Don't get it twisted".
He says you should say what you mean, I say it's less funny that way. I still have a few months to work on him.
I said "Josh, I do care about everybody in this class, you know that."
He nodded, and winked at me when the class looked away.
He is a great kid.
This is a long one.
Soon after that the pain was too much. I announced that I had to go to the emergency room.
Just then my mother came in and yelled at me to take my asbutt (that's what yo say when you realize that you are about to curse in front of a bunch of kids) to the emergency room.
I said OK I'm going.
When she left the kids remarked that it was cool the way I made her think it was her idea, and realized that even when they are grown their parents may still yell at them.
I waited two hours before they saw me.
I waited in a room for another hour before the doctor came in.
I waited some more while she ordered a Tetanus shot.
Can I just say that is a painful shot and she was trying to give it to me in the fresh ink.
And it hurts like hell! For days!
Then she cut the blister drained it and dressed the wound.
Gave me an ugly shoe and crutches.
What she did took about 10 minutes.
I wonder if I was bleeding they would have seen me sooner?
I think all this stuff is happening to send me a message, it's not don't write, my hands are fine, it's not don't talk, my face wasn't burned. It's sit your ass down, because now walking is painful.
I was supposed to do a lot of things this weekend.
I am sorry but I can't.
My goddess is telling me to sit my ass down and when my goddess speaks I listen..... Well sometimes, she knows I'm hardheaded.
Please come out to HOUSE OF POETS on Monday Gypsee-Yo will feature and I should have several new pieces. But I do have groovy pain killers so they may not make much sense.
They are kicking in right now, It's almost nighty-night time......quick someone come tuck me in!
I know I should have gone to the emergency room this morning, but my kids were spent and I didn't think it was that bad. Daylight showed something different. I let the kids sleep in. I told them to get there when they were rested. I went to class.
I know I am stubborn.
I know I should have gone to the doctor right away.
I also know that I take my responsibilities very seriously and my class, is mine.
I didn't want to try to arrange a sub, freak them out because they know I don't miss school. Up until this year I only missed three days of school.
I was having a baby, and we were both in class on the fourth day.
I had a good time with my class today.
They made me realize how lucky I was.
When I told them what happened my favorite kid in the world,
that I didn't birth, was upset.
He said he was mad at me.
He was glad I saved my kids and home but he was mad and wondered why my arms and face weren't burned.
I hadn't thought of that.
They should have been.
The plastic was melting in my hands and the only reason I stepped on the hot plastic was because I had to turn my face away from the flames.
I am lucky. Possibly insane.
I was ok until the throbbing started.
Josh, my favorite, made me smile through all my pain.
He was being questioned by another student about why he was still in my class.
Josh decided when I was his fourth grade teacher he decided tha he needed to stay in my class another year.
His father said it was his decision, and when Josh decides something that's it.
When Josh wouldn't answer him the kid asked me.
I said it was because Josh loved me and felt he needed more time to learn in my class.
I told him I was honored by his decision and it has made me a better teacher.
Josh blushed a rainbow.
Made me smile.
Later I wanted to take an aspirin and asked Josh to go to the Highschool and get me a soda from the machine. He asked if he could get himself one.
I said yes.
There is a rule about using the machines and when the other students saw he had one they started complaining.
"Why does he get to get a soda and we can't," they demanded. The largest protestor a Vegan who doesn't even drink soda.
Josh slammed his soda on the table and said, " Because she LOVES me more than you!"
The soda coming from my nose took my mind off the pain and the aspirin, and the stunned silence of my class, cracked my shit up.
Later on one asked," You love us all, right?"
"Yes," I said.
Josh explained to them that of course I would say that,"Theresa is a nice person, she doesn't want to hurt your feelings, but don't get it confused," he said.
The phrase I have been trying to teach him is "Don't get it twisted".
He says you should say what you mean, I say it's less funny that way. I still have a few months to work on him.
I said "Josh, I do care about everybody in this class, you know that."
He nodded, and winked at me when the class looked away.
He is a great kid.
This is a long one.
Soon after that the pain was too much. I announced that I had to go to the emergency room.
Just then my mother came in and yelled at me to take my asbutt (that's what yo say when you realize that you are about to curse in front of a bunch of kids) to the emergency room.
I said OK I'm going.
When she left the kids remarked that it was cool the way I made her think it was her idea, and realized that even when they are grown their parents may still yell at them.
I waited two hours before they saw me.
I waited in a room for another hour before the doctor came in.
I waited some more while she ordered a Tetanus shot.
Can I just say that is a painful shot and she was trying to give it to me in the fresh ink.
And it hurts like hell! For days!
Then she cut the blister drained it and dressed the wound.
Gave me an ugly shoe and crutches.
What she did took about 10 minutes.
I wonder if I was bleeding they would have seen me sooner?
I think all this stuff is happening to send me a message, it's not don't write, my hands are fine, it's not don't talk, my face wasn't burned. It's sit your ass down, because now walking is painful.
I was supposed to do a lot of things this weekend.
I am sorry but I can't.
My goddess is telling me to sit my ass down and when my goddess speaks I listen..... Well sometimes, she knows I'm hardheaded.
Please come out to HOUSE OF POETS on Monday Gypsee-Yo will feature and I should have several new pieces. But I do have groovy pain killers so they may not make much sense.
They are kicking in right now, It's almost nighty-night time......quick someone come tuck me in!
Fire
I am not sure what's happening in the cosmos.
I am not sure why so many potentially dangerous things have moved into my circle.
I am not sure why at 4:00 this morning when the fan in my daughters messy bedroom caught on fire, we weren't all killed. Except for maybe it wasn't our time.
I stepped barefoot, as I carried the flaming fan to the bathroom, on melted plastic and metal. My foot is burned really bad.
It won't all come off.
I suppose a doctor's visit is in order.
A very deep limp.
It really hurts, I really want to cry, but I think my kids have been freaked out enough.
I am not sure why so many potentially dangerous things have moved into my circle.
I am not sure why at 4:00 this morning when the fan in my daughters messy bedroom caught on fire, we weren't all killed. Except for maybe it wasn't our time.
I stepped barefoot, as I carried the flaming fan to the bathroom, on melted plastic and metal. My foot is burned really bad.
It won't all come off.
I suppose a doctor's visit is in order.
A very deep limp.
It really hurts, I really want to cry, but I think my kids have been freaked out enough.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Hindsight
I think I was targeted last night.
I have no real proof, but in hindsight and taking into account all the e-mails received telling about the ways women are tricked into victimhood, I believe I was targeted. Unfortunately for the asshole or assholes ( don't want to leave any of them out), I am an unusually pissed off, black woman, when the air is deliberately let out of my tires because it appeared I was alone and the only car in the lot. Before Melissa and I got to my car some dude was approaching asking if I needed help, before the flat became apparent to me.
How the fuck did he know I needed help?
I know what I believe.
What would have happened if I were alone?
Would there be a news report of a missing goddess with a bad ass tattoo,
or some dude with his ass royally kicked
and the only reason I got caught was because
I had to wait for the cops to help me remove my foot from his ass?
I have had some bizarre shit happen to me in the last couple of weeks
I have no real proof, but in hindsight and taking into account all the e-mails received telling about the ways women are tricked into victimhood, I believe I was targeted. Unfortunately for the asshole or assholes ( don't want to leave any of them out), I am an unusually pissed off, black woman, when the air is deliberately let out of my tires because it appeared I was alone and the only car in the lot. Before Melissa and I got to my car some dude was approaching asking if I needed help, before the flat became apparent to me.
How the fuck did he know I needed help?
I know what I believe.
What would have happened if I were alone?
Would there be a news report of a missing goddess with a bad ass tattoo,
or some dude with his ass royally kicked
and the only reason I got caught was because
I had to wait for the cops to help me remove my foot from his ass?
I have had some bizarre shit happen to me in the last couple of weeks
- My daughter was reunited with the father she's never know, who is also displaced by Katrina.
- I was ripped off at a church. Instant get into heaven card. Can I get an AMEN?
- Some idiot dude sits at a table with me (uninvited) where he tells me he is sure that I am to be the mother of his children, even though I explain in detail my hysterectomy and assure him that in this space and time men don't interest me in the least. I gave him someone's phone number to make him leave....hope it wasn't yours:-0
- I almost experienced death by port a potty, a surely shitty way to go!
- Then the air is mysteriously let out of my tire
I believe I shall plat lotto tomorrow and see what happens!
Saturday, September 24, 2005
INK
So, it's done!
I have finished the list I created for myself as I approached my 40th birthday!
Ink!
I have decided through a pemanenet display on my person to accept my alter ego, Sister Seuss.
Ink!
So I had this dream the other night, I was creating a line of journals and my new book of poetry all a Sister Seuss Production. I talked to my ace, my buddy, my good friend Cindy. I told her what the tattoo was to look like and she drew it.
Perfection!
Just what I wanted.
Ink!
All day I anticipated getting my tattoo.
I was a fucking nervous wreck!
Melissa, my partner in most crimes, was on board,
because I am a wimp,
and would be in need of some Jet I form of support.
Who ever told you that it doesn't hurt,
whoever told you that it's a good kind of pain,
whoever said oh it's no big deal in that nonchalant way...
Whoever they were,
they fucking lied to you!
It hurt like a mother fucker!
My impulse to scream was only drowned out by the fact that during the pain
I was not breathing,
trying to keep the profanity under control,
which produced tiny,
sparkling stars....
A sure sign that I was about to pass the fuck out!
I did not pass out, but I did, with the help of Melissa, drink two pitchers of beer after.
Much needed in light of the fact that I felt so loopy after.
Adrenalin,
my ass,
pain, pure and simple!
I experienced ink, I don't think I will ever do that shit again!
But now I must take another photo shoot!
Naked with the tattoo!
Yes, this must happen as soon as this bitch heals, OUCH!!!!!!
I have finished the list I created for myself as I approached my 40th birthday!
Ink!
I have decided through a pemanenet display on my person to accept my alter ego, Sister Seuss.
Ink!
So I had this dream the other night, I was creating a line of journals and my new book of poetry all a Sister Seuss Production. I talked to my ace, my buddy, my good friend Cindy. I told her what the tattoo was to look like and she drew it.
Perfection!
Just what I wanted.
Ink!
All day I anticipated getting my tattoo.
I was a fucking nervous wreck!
Melissa, my partner in most crimes, was on board,
because I am a wimp,
and would be in need of some Jet I form of support.
Who ever told you that it doesn't hurt,
whoever told you that it's a good kind of pain,
whoever said oh it's no big deal in that nonchalant way...
Whoever they were,
they fucking lied to you!
It hurt like a mother fucker!
My impulse to scream was only drowned out by the fact that during the pain
I was not breathing,
trying to keep the profanity under control,
which produced tiny,
sparkling stars....
A sure sign that I was about to pass the fuck out!
I did not pass out, but I did, with the help of Melissa, drink two pitchers of beer after.
Much needed in light of the fact that I felt so loopy after.
Adrenalin,
my ass,
pain, pure and simple!
I experienced ink, I don't think I will ever do that shit again!
But now I must take another photo shoot!
Naked with the tattoo!
Yes, this must happen as soon as this bitch heals, OUCH!!!!!!
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Summer Promises
I am having a silent fit!
OK, it's not so silent, but it is very much a fucking fit!
I made promises to myself this summer,
Take erotic photo shoot, check
have a one night stand, check
Go to new Orleans, check
do at least two gigs out of town, check
go to the national poetry slam, check
try to maintain a certain level of cool,
okay so on this one I might be fucking up a bit,
my frustration levels are causing me to be a bit more bitchier than usual,
for I am a sexual being having no sex,
and let's face it the world is fucked up,
so uncoolness via,natural disaster
or associating with those who call your bitch demons to the surface don't count right?
So, check
tattoo.................................................
Did you notice there was no check!
Here it is the first day of Fall and there is no tattoo!
Not on my arm or on my ass, and I am not happy!
I want to go out tomorrow and get my damn tattoo!
Who's with me!!
Oh, by the by, today is National Ice Cream Cone Day!
Go out get a scoop and give yourself a big ole hug from me!!!!!
OK, it's not so silent, but it is very much a fucking fit!
I made promises to myself this summer,
Take erotic photo shoot, check
have a one night stand, check
Go to new Orleans, check
do at least two gigs out of town, check
go to the national poetry slam, check
try to maintain a certain level of cool,
okay so on this one I might be fucking up a bit,
my frustration levels are causing me to be a bit more bitchier than usual,
for I am a sexual being having no sex,
and let's face it the world is fucked up,
so uncoolness via,natural disaster
or associating with those who call your bitch demons to the surface don't count right?
So, check
tattoo.................................................
Did you notice there was no check!
Here it is the first day of Fall and there is no tattoo!
Not on my arm or on my ass, and I am not happy!
I want to go out tomorrow and get my damn tattoo!
Who's with me!!
Oh, by the by, today is National Ice Cream Cone Day!
Go out get a scoop and give yourself a big ole hug from me!!!!!
Monday, September 19, 2005
Talk Like a Pirate
Arrrrrrrrg!
Yes it is International Talk Like a Pirate Day!
And yes, I dressed and talked like a pirate all day,
and my class was great.
Yes, sure most of them were embarrassed as my pirate attire was very over the top.
Including the facial hair I added.
We plundered through Target, then off to The Pirate's Cove to face Blackbeard's Challenge.
Who knew they would be so bad at miniature golf.
It took a bit longer for some, and many balls ended up in the water.
I was thoroughly entertained.
It's all a part of my educational scheme, where I tie in my themes:
Hispanic Heritage Month ( a week was not fucking nearly enough)
Then a glimpse of Piracy,
so when Columbus Day rolls around we can discuss the greatest and most ruthless pirate celebrated in America ( aside from the one currently in office),
then I show the effects of the European Explorers on the Hispanic regions of North and South America. That takes me to November where I can then talk about how the Native Americans were devastated by the same Encounters!!!!!
If our children don't learn their history, they will repeat it!!!
You know when I started doing the poetry thing,
I ran up on people who strongly disagree with my opinions,
but couldn't quite put it into words the parts I got wrong.
Just want to tell me I'm not looking at the situation right.
I have no vision problems when it comes to bullshit.
Idiot people who react to what I say as if it were the gospel truth.
These same folks are offended that I am a teacher.
They say education is not political................................fucking idiot freaks!!!
Of course education is political.
I bought a shirt today that kinda sums up my feelings on the subject of people who can't sort opinion from fact and even write that
"parents should opose me being a teacher"
That's right the dickhead spelled oppose wrong.
Guess it's because his teacher didn't think the educational system in this country is political. Well, I would have at least taught him to spell...
My shirt says," Never underestimate stupid people in large groups".
Which is probably what folks were saying when my class stepped out as pirates today.?
I'd rather think they were saying to themselves," What a cool ass teacher! I wish I were back in school so she could be my teacher!"
Yes, that's totally what they were saying!!!!!
You know it's true!
Yes it is International Talk Like a Pirate Day!
And yes, I dressed and talked like a pirate all day,
and my class was great.
Yes, sure most of them were embarrassed as my pirate attire was very over the top.
Including the facial hair I added.
We plundered through Target, then off to The Pirate's Cove to face Blackbeard's Challenge.
Who knew they would be so bad at miniature golf.
It took a bit longer for some, and many balls ended up in the water.
I was thoroughly entertained.
It's all a part of my educational scheme, where I tie in my themes:
Hispanic Heritage Month ( a week was not fucking nearly enough)
Then a glimpse of Piracy,
so when Columbus Day rolls around we can discuss the greatest and most ruthless pirate celebrated in America ( aside from the one currently in office),
then I show the effects of the European Explorers on the Hispanic regions of North and South America. That takes me to November where I can then talk about how the Native Americans were devastated by the same Encounters!!!!!
If our children don't learn their history, they will repeat it!!!
You know when I started doing the poetry thing,
I ran up on people who strongly disagree with my opinions,
but couldn't quite put it into words the parts I got wrong.
Just want to tell me I'm not looking at the situation right.
I have no vision problems when it comes to bullshit.
Idiot people who react to what I say as if it were the gospel truth.
These same folks are offended that I am a teacher.
They say education is not political................................fucking idiot freaks!!!
Of course education is political.
I bought a shirt today that kinda sums up my feelings on the subject of people who can't sort opinion from fact and even write that
"parents should opose me being a teacher"
That's right the dickhead spelled oppose wrong.
Guess it's because his teacher didn't think the educational system in this country is political. Well, I would have at least taught him to spell...
My shirt says," Never underestimate stupid people in large groups".
Which is probably what folks were saying when my class stepped out as pirates today.?
I'd rather think they were saying to themselves," What a cool ass teacher! I wish I were back in school so she could be my teacher!"
Yes, that's totally what they were saying!!!!!
You know it's true!
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Poetic Exorcism
Up all night in and our of dreams, consisting of words.
Rough stuff, and yes I look crazy after only 3 hours of sleep.
Walking into a middle school classroom sleep deprived
gives them an edge that you wouldn't believe.
Working this morning the banter a little louder than usual
didn't really register, until it sounded like they were screaming at each other.
So I had to pull the Mad Insane Teacher Card,
and outshout them into silence.
I am not firing on all thrusters.
But I wrestled the two new poems out of me last night.
A kind of poetic exorcism.
Sounds painful doesn't it.
Both pieces are so squishy, not my normal shit.
Oh well, it is what it is.
Here's one:
Unlit
© Theresa Davis 9/2005
A candle sits on my bedside table
And I want to strike a match
To kiss the wick
To watch the flicker
The glow
Nothing moves as beautifully
As flame dancing
But
Unlit it remains
I've owned it for almost a year
Earth toned inspiration
Waiting to be realized
Waiting for a spark from me
But it remains unlit
You see, I have this five-year old
He's this amazing man-child
Who reminds me of me
Smart, funny, a little twisted
He comes by it honestly
But he has been conditioned
Conditioned to believe
That a lit candle means
A party
A birthday party to be exact
And no matter the month
The birthday must be his
So in good conscious
I can't light it
I'm a mom
I mean, imagine the guilt
If lit and blown out
When the smoke clears
There is no cake
But in my mind
I light the candle
Every time hardship comes
It's lit
The flame flickers in my minds eye
Offering up a blessing
Of peace,
Of hope
In my mind I watch the flames
The glow inspires me
My inspiration feeds the flame
And in my mind it glows
Restoration
Even though it remains unlit
It brings me comfort
Brand new it sits
On my bedside table
Rotund it bears 3 wicks
Fearing yet awaiting flames
In my heart I light one
Whispering a prayer for those in need
Basking in the glow of potential joy
I light another
In the glimmer I find myself
Looking forward to better days
Looking forward to the future
I light the third
In it's illumination
I murmur a secret wish
A simple wish that bring a smile to my face
And then a hope as I breathe in
That when I blow out the flames
There will be cake
Rough stuff, and yes I look crazy after only 3 hours of sleep.
Walking into a middle school classroom sleep deprived
gives them an edge that you wouldn't believe.
Working this morning the banter a little louder than usual
didn't really register, until it sounded like they were screaming at each other.
So I had to pull the Mad Insane Teacher Card,
and outshout them into silence.
I am not firing on all thrusters.
But I wrestled the two new poems out of me last night.
A kind of poetic exorcism.
Sounds painful doesn't it.
Both pieces are so squishy, not my normal shit.
Oh well, it is what it is.
Here's one:
Unlit
© Theresa Davis 9/2005
A candle sits on my bedside table
And I want to strike a match
To kiss the wick
To watch the flicker
The glow
Nothing moves as beautifully
As flame dancing
But
Unlit it remains
I've owned it for almost a year
Earth toned inspiration
Waiting to be realized
Waiting for a spark from me
But it remains unlit
You see, I have this five-year old
He's this amazing man-child
Who reminds me of me
Smart, funny, a little twisted
He comes by it honestly
But he has been conditioned
Conditioned to believe
That a lit candle means
A party
A birthday party to be exact
And no matter the month
The birthday must be his
So in good conscious
I can't light it
I'm a mom
I mean, imagine the guilt
If lit and blown out
When the smoke clears
There is no cake
But in my mind
I light the candle
Every time hardship comes
It's lit
The flame flickers in my minds eye
Offering up a blessing
Of peace,
Of hope
In my mind I watch the flames
The glow inspires me
My inspiration feeds the flame
And in my mind it glows
Restoration
Even though it remains unlit
It brings me comfort
Brand new it sits
On my bedside table
Rotund it bears 3 wicks
Fearing yet awaiting flames
In my heart I light one
Whispering a prayer for those in need
Basking in the glow of potential joy
I light another
In the glimmer I find myself
Looking forward to better days
Looking forward to the future
I light the third
In it's illumination
I murmur a secret wish
A simple wish that bring a smile to my face
And then a hope as I breathe in
That when I blow out the flames
There will be cake
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Tattoo
I am now very anxious to get my tattoo.
Been thinking about it all day.
I think next week end maybe.
I am a total pussy when it comes to pain, so if you want to come see me cry like a baby, please do.
This poem has been haunting me.
I dream it vividly and can only retrieve snatches of it when I wake.
The recurring line is I Know,
and it rhymes then breaks over and over again.
Like it wants to follow some form and then break ranks just for the fuck of it.
It's a rowdy little poem.........
Teasing my tongue,
whispered in the dark
caressing me like a lover
under the cover of night
touching me deeply
leaving only slight impressions on my skin
in my mind
waking twisted sheets hold me down
it looks like we made love again last night
and again
fading memories
of sweet nothings in my ear
the words on my lips
like the goodbye kiss you never give me
as you fade into morning
She's a sexy little poem as well.
Been thinking about it all day.
I think next week end maybe.
I am a total pussy when it comes to pain, so if you want to come see me cry like a baby, please do.
This poem has been haunting me.
I dream it vividly and can only retrieve snatches of it when I wake.
The recurring line is I Know,
and it rhymes then breaks over and over again.
Like it wants to follow some form and then break ranks just for the fuck of it.
It's a rowdy little poem.........
Teasing my tongue,
whispered in the dark
caressing me like a lover
under the cover of night
touching me deeply
leaving only slight impressions on my skin
in my mind
waking twisted sheets hold me down
it looks like we made love again last night
and again
fading memories
of sweet nothings in my ear
the words on my lips
like the goodbye kiss you never give me
as you fade into morning
She's a sexy little poem as well.
I'm feeling this
I tried to put one of those moving pictures on here but it didn't work.
More to come after Writing, then spelling, then math.....dang!
More to come after Writing, then spelling, then math.....dang!
Monday, September 12, 2005
Sixth Sense
You know I went through most of the day yesterday not registering that it was September 11th. I didn't realize it last night until Java Monkey. I decided to do Warning Signs because it speaks directly to that day. Two poets before I was to read my friend Cindy called.
Cindy is great!
She's one of those people who make you smile.
I can feel like crap, but she greets me every work morning with a tone in her voice that makes me feel light.
" Hey Theresa, how you doing?"
And I always smile and sometimes the answer is ,
"Did you say how or who I'm doing?"
Or " I had a fucked up evening. Thanks for asking."
Smiling the entire time.
She has a laugh that makes it all better, on my down days I find myself trying to be witty so her laughter will lift me up.
I'm totally using her.
We both benefit.
Any who.
She called me while I was at Java, and I answered it, something I try not to do while poets perform. It felt urgent that I talk to her, because it was 9/11.
Cindy's brother Vernon Cherry, was a New York Firefighter.
He was one of the first firefighters who entered the Towers, and was one of the last bodies they found the following May.
It's unfortunate, but Cindy and I share a lot of loss.
On 9/11, when the first plane struck, we were on our way to a memorial service for a student we both loved who was killed in a senseless car accident. We lost three students that year.
Then in November or boss Dr. Lorraine Wilson passed away.
After her brother's body was recovered, her mother passed away.
The following spring, my father.
But with all that loss, we, she and I, have found a friendship that is solid and strong.
She knows I will bend over backwards, drop everything if she needs anything. And I know she'd do the same. I have truly been blessed to find myself surrounded by people who inspire me and love me, unconditionally. She's late to work today and I sit here at my desk trying to think of something to make her smile, because I know the first thing she will do is say, " Hey Theresa, how you doing?"
And I'll get to tell her how I've been thinking about her.
Of course I'll figure out a way to make it sound dirty.
She will smile give me a blushing giggle.
I will smile because her presence demands it,
and we will both have an excellent day!
All because of my dirty mind, and her infectious laughter!
What a great combo!
Cindy is great!
She's one of those people who make you smile.
I can feel like crap, but she greets me every work morning with a tone in her voice that makes me feel light.
" Hey Theresa, how you doing?"
And I always smile and sometimes the answer is ,
"Did you say how or who I'm doing?"
Or " I had a fucked up evening. Thanks for asking."
Smiling the entire time.
She has a laugh that makes it all better, on my down days I find myself trying to be witty so her laughter will lift me up.
I'm totally using her.
We both benefit.
Any who.
She called me while I was at Java, and I answered it, something I try not to do while poets perform. It felt urgent that I talk to her, because it was 9/11.
Cindy's brother Vernon Cherry, was a New York Firefighter.
He was one of the first firefighters who entered the Towers, and was one of the last bodies they found the following May.
It's unfortunate, but Cindy and I share a lot of loss.
On 9/11, when the first plane struck, we were on our way to a memorial service for a student we both loved who was killed in a senseless car accident. We lost three students that year.
Then in November or boss Dr. Lorraine Wilson passed away.
After her brother's body was recovered, her mother passed away.
The following spring, my father.
But with all that loss, we, she and I, have found a friendship that is solid and strong.
She knows I will bend over backwards, drop everything if she needs anything. And I know she'd do the same. I have truly been blessed to find myself surrounded by people who inspire me and love me, unconditionally. She's late to work today and I sit here at my desk trying to think of something to make her smile, because I know the first thing she will do is say, " Hey Theresa, how you doing?"
And I'll get to tell her how I've been thinking about her.
Of course I'll figure out a way to make it sound dirty.
She will smile give me a blushing giggle.
I will smile because her presence demands it,
and we will both have an excellent day!
All because of my dirty mind, and her infectious laughter!
What a great combo!
Saturday, September 10, 2005
draggin' my ass
i will not be using capital letter and my punctuation may be sketchy my spelling will in some cases be wrong because the u and p keys on my comter, computer stick from time to time.
i can not get my shit together,
it's like i'm moving through jello all slow and slower.
i don't seem to have any energy and it occurs to me that a doctor's visit may be in order.
i drank an energy drink the other day and was knocked out to the point of drooling 30 minutes later,
that would be the opposite of energy.
still feeling helpless and unmotivated wanting to help all those displaced but not really knowing how.
i am doing some benefits but it hardly seems enough.i wish i were a mega church, not so much the god thing but the money thing,
hey have they stepped up yet?
the dollars and the longs?
can i vent a minute?
of course i can,
it's my blog and i can bitch if i want to.
bitch if i want to,
bitch if i want to,
you would bitch to if this happened to you!
that made me grin,
so i went to uhaul to rent a storage space and the peson who was helping me....
i guess we could call it that,
drug this 30 minute process out to an hour and a half.
i was transfixed by her lack of everything.
i watched her like one would watch maybe a car crash just morbid curiosity seeing how long this would take and how she managed to look efficient while not accomplishing much.
it was surreal, between the gold donning most of her front teeth,
the nails that threatened to skewer me,
and the fact that her phone rang no less than seven times while she was not helping me,
by helping me.
the ring tone some obnoxious rap tune calling me a hoe,
seven times,
which she answered everytime telling me after every call that if it wasn't important she wouldn't have taken the call. when what i could deduce from the one side of the conversation was the where and what club would be hopping seemed to be the topic.
i love a party scene as much as the next gal,
so she was right it was very important.
i would feel bad if my acquiring a storage unit from her at work
interfered with her party plans after work.
i tried not to look confused, and couldn't,
which she took as me not understanding as she slowed her speech and talked louder
i almost laughed (it would have been an insane laugh)
as i signed my possessions soul over to the uhaul underlord.
my entire week seems as strange as that moment.
i did hear some awesome poetry at cliterati
and collin rocks my world.
madeline will set java's ears on fire.
i've taken to being reserved in my reading so much so that i didn't even recognize my own words, i've got to not do that in the future.
i have not felt this sensitive in like forever.
sex.
that's what i need,
and not the battery operated kind.
sadly i'm not even motivated to meet people,
and how are you going to sleep with them if you don't meet them.
no one's interested any way.
i've turned into this boring old person.
it had to happen.
okay i'm watchin my daughter play the willie wonka ps2 game. and insane squirrels are attacking her character and it is fucking funny. she's screaming "rabid squirrel" and "get him off, get him off". a good cleansing laugh, that felt good.... there she goes again...haaahaaahaaa
check ot my lame ass web site and please offer up suggestions.
also if someone would like to write a bio for me that would be cool, when i talk abot myself i sound stid, stuid, stupid, shit...see what i mean.
i can not get my shit together,
it's like i'm moving through jello all slow and slower.
i don't seem to have any energy and it occurs to me that a doctor's visit may be in order.
i drank an energy drink the other day and was knocked out to the point of drooling 30 minutes later,
that would be the opposite of energy.
still feeling helpless and unmotivated wanting to help all those displaced but not really knowing how.
i am doing some benefits but it hardly seems enough.i wish i were a mega church, not so much the god thing but the money thing,
hey have they stepped up yet?
the dollars and the longs?
can i vent a minute?
of course i can,
it's my blog and i can bitch if i want to.
bitch if i want to,
bitch if i want to,
you would bitch to if this happened to you!
that made me grin,
so i went to uhaul to rent a storage space and the peson who was helping me....
i guess we could call it that,
drug this 30 minute process out to an hour and a half.
i was transfixed by her lack of everything.
i watched her like one would watch maybe a car crash just morbid curiosity seeing how long this would take and how she managed to look efficient while not accomplishing much.
it was surreal, between the gold donning most of her front teeth,
the nails that threatened to skewer me,
and the fact that her phone rang no less than seven times while she was not helping me,
by helping me.
the ring tone some obnoxious rap tune calling me a hoe,
seven times,
which she answered everytime telling me after every call that if it wasn't important she wouldn't have taken the call. when what i could deduce from the one side of the conversation was the where and what club would be hopping seemed to be the topic.
i love a party scene as much as the next gal,
so she was right it was very important.
i would feel bad if my acquiring a storage unit from her at work
interfered with her party plans after work.
i tried not to look confused, and couldn't,
which she took as me not understanding as she slowed her speech and talked louder
i almost laughed (it would have been an insane laugh)
as i signed my possessions soul over to the uhaul underlord.
my entire week seems as strange as that moment.
i did hear some awesome poetry at cliterati
and collin rocks my world.
madeline will set java's ears on fire.
i've taken to being reserved in my reading so much so that i didn't even recognize my own words, i've got to not do that in the future.
i have not felt this sensitive in like forever.
sex.
that's what i need,
and not the battery operated kind.
sadly i'm not even motivated to meet people,
and how are you going to sleep with them if you don't meet them.
no one's interested any way.
i've turned into this boring old person.
it had to happen.
okay i'm watchin my daughter play the willie wonka ps2 game. and insane squirrels are attacking her character and it is fucking funny. she's screaming "rabid squirrel" and "get him off, get him off". a good cleansing laugh, that felt good.... there she goes again...haaahaaahaaa
check ot my lame ass web site and please offer up suggestions.
also if someone would like to write a bio for me that would be cool, when i talk abot myself i sound stid, stuid, stupid, shit...see what i mean.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
An attempt to clear my head
I have been on the verge of tears for days. Knowing you live in a society deeply rooted in racism, inhumanity and short-sightedness, somehow doesn't prepare you to stare it in the face. I am sickened by the language used, by the lack of respect and leadership. Our government doesn't have our back, and our security doesn't exist in this homeland. I visited New Orleans this summer, I turned 40 in New Orleans! It will be forever changed. The following is an attempt to clear my thoughts, although, true clarity and understanding may never be gained.
Water
Theresa Davis © 2005
Water, water everywhere But not a drop to drink,
Not pure enough to make you holy
But real enough to make you think
Not clean enough to quench your thirst
Falling tears make levels rise
As those perched safely on dry land
Morn the many who have died
Flooding emotions make my head spin
As I dog paddle towards the air pockets in my mind
That don't exist
This drowning sensation that presses On my lungs
as I Choking on fear, on sorrow
And my lack of understanding of how
I could be drowning without the presence of
Water
Trickling through my fingers
I stand before a mirror
My reflection not quite right
Tortured expressions that can't be washed away with the
Water
I use to Wash away the tears
it seems redundant
Seems wasteful
Seems wrong
And I'm afraid that it won't work
I saw you in May for the first time
Because I wanted to know your face
The road I traveled
Gone,
In the aftermath of Katrina's fury
Sanctioned by Mother Nature
And those who could have prevented chaos, death, desperation
The road I traveled
Washed clear
As clear as the liquid flowing through my splayed fingers
Water
This element
This necessary libation
That can take on many forms
This wonder of nature
That sustains Gives birth to new generations
More of it in our bodies
Than the blood that flows through our veins
Like
Water
Everywhere
But not a drop to drink
Not pure enough to make you holy
But real enough to make you think
Not clean enough to quench you thirst
Falling tears make levels rise
As we perched safely on dry land
Morn the many who have died
And the many who will need us
as they struggle to survive
Water
Theresa Davis © 2005
Water, water everywhere But not a drop to drink,
Not pure enough to make you holy
But real enough to make you think
Not clean enough to quench your thirst
Falling tears make levels rise
As those perched safely on dry land
Morn the many who have died
Flooding emotions make my head spin
As I dog paddle towards the air pockets in my mind
That don't exist
This drowning sensation that presses On my lungs
as I Choking on fear, on sorrow
And my lack of understanding of how
I could be drowning without the presence of
Water
Trickling through my fingers
I stand before a mirror
My reflection not quite right
Tortured expressions that can't be washed away with the
Water
I use to Wash away the tears
it seems redundant
Seems wasteful
Seems wrong
And I'm afraid that it won't work
I saw you in May for the first time
Because I wanted to know your face
The road I traveled
Gone,
In the aftermath of Katrina's fury
Sanctioned by Mother Nature
And those who could have prevented chaos, death, desperation
The road I traveled
Washed clear
As clear as the liquid flowing through my splayed fingers
Water
This element
This necessary libation
That can take on many forms
This wonder of nature
That sustains Gives birth to new generations
More of it in our bodies
Than the blood that flows through our veins
Like
Water
Everywhere
But not a drop to drink
Not pure enough to make you holy
But real enough to make you think
Not clean enough to quench you thirst
Falling tears make levels rise
As we perched safely on dry land
Morn the many who have died
And the many who will need us
as they struggle to survive
Insanity
I can not stop thinking about how unsecured we are in our new state of so called Homeland Security. And this dumb ass quote from the head dumb ass boggles my mind.
"I'm not looking forward to this trip," Bush said as he toured Alabama and Mississippi and headed for Louisiana. "It's as if the entire Gulf Coast were obliterated by the worst kind of weapon you can imagine," he said.
I'm sure American citizens weren't looking forward to this tripped out scenario,
and you didn't have to imagine this disaster,
you were told.
Maybe if someone had drawn a picture and labeled it so you could understand it,
you would have understood that the facts were the facts and not a fucking suggestion.
When you get the information then you begin long-term planning time not after.
Duh, I mean Dubya.
I wonder what the spin will be?
Who will have to take the blame for this?
How many times can "we didn't know?" and "help is on the way" be acceptable answer from the powers that be?
Is Osama behind it? Well I'm sure he'll be connected.
The eighteen year old young man who borrowed (not looted) a bus to save people, may be prosecuted? Where the fuck are we?
Did we just land in the Twilight Zone or were we here to begin with?
How long did it take relief efforts to get to Bushland Florida? Was the storm even off the radar before help was administered?
Again black people wading in the waters.
This time to be freed from fear, death, starvation, and the short sighted stupidity, that is the signs of our times. Racism is not and has never been dead, It lives well, shoe shopping and chocking on pretzels in the White House.
Thinking about the idea of troops, fresh from Iraq, firing on Americans thrown into desperation from their own government frightens me.
Will New Orleans become the new battle ground?
Will we have Soldiers shooting poor, frightened, panicked, civilians that shouldn't be there?
People who don't earn much money but still pay taxes?
People who have watched bodies floating in water and dying on the streets?
Can you imagine the trauma?
Scary.
Very Scary.
"I'm not looking forward to this trip," Bush said as he toured Alabama and Mississippi and headed for Louisiana. "It's as if the entire Gulf Coast were obliterated by the worst kind of weapon you can imagine," he said.
I'm sure American citizens weren't looking forward to this tripped out scenario,
and you didn't have to imagine this disaster,
you were told.
Maybe if someone had drawn a picture and labeled it so you could understand it,
you would have understood that the facts were the facts and not a fucking suggestion.
When you get the information then you begin long-term planning time not after.
Duh, I mean Dubya.
I wonder what the spin will be?
Who will have to take the blame for this?
How many times can "we didn't know?" and "help is on the way" be acceptable answer from the powers that be?
Is Osama behind it? Well I'm sure he'll be connected.
The eighteen year old young man who borrowed (not looted) a bus to save people, may be prosecuted? Where the fuck are we?
Did we just land in the Twilight Zone or were we here to begin with?
How long did it take relief efforts to get to Bushland Florida? Was the storm even off the radar before help was administered?
Again black people wading in the waters.
This time to be freed from fear, death, starvation, and the short sighted stupidity, that is the signs of our times. Racism is not and has never been dead, It lives well, shoe shopping and chocking on pretzels in the White House.
Thinking about the idea of troops, fresh from Iraq, firing on Americans thrown into desperation from their own government frightens me.
Will New Orleans become the new battle ground?
Will we have Soldiers shooting poor, frightened, panicked, civilians that shouldn't be there?
People who don't earn much money but still pay taxes?
People who have watched bodies floating in water and dying on the streets?
Can you imagine the trauma?
Scary.
Very Scary.
Friday, September 02, 2005
American Refugees
American Refugees in America. Never thought I'd see the day.
This is a situation that should never have happenend. We were lulled into believing that disasters in America come in the form of planes crashing into buildings or weapons of mass destruction that may or may not exist.
Mother nature is pissed.
And seems to be purging.
Does anybody else think that this extreme weather hads gotten worst over the last two years?
Could there be a correlation to the bombs being dropped daily?
Can the earth withstand constant bombardment and it not throw something off balance?
Where do the fumes go?
Listening to the news this morning watching the images of babies barely conscious is truly frightening. Learning that all those budget cuts ( some designated to fix the or prevent the flooding problem) went to do more worthwhile things like?????
Why five days into this are people still there? Where are the fucking rock stars singing their songs of relief?
Where are the big businesses so willing to provide assistance to other nations at the drop of a hat? Dubya planning to go and what?
Tell these people what lie?
It's much easier to lie about what the fuck you are or are not doing in another country, not so much when the devastation is sitting in your backyard!
People are desperate, he will need lots of protection.
I don't think they want to be talked to they want action.
This is a situation that should never have happenend. We were lulled into believing that disasters in America come in the form of planes crashing into buildings or weapons of mass destruction that may or may not exist.
Mother nature is pissed.
And seems to be purging.
Does anybody else think that this extreme weather hads gotten worst over the last two years?
Could there be a correlation to the bombs being dropped daily?
Can the earth withstand constant bombardment and it not throw something off balance?
Where do the fumes go?
Listening to the news this morning watching the images of babies barely conscious is truly frightening. Learning that all those budget cuts ( some designated to fix the or prevent the flooding problem) went to do more worthwhile things like?????
Why five days into this are people still there? Where are the fucking rock stars singing their songs of relief?
Where are the big businesses so willing to provide assistance to other nations at the drop of a hat? Dubya planning to go and what?
Tell these people what lie?
It's much easier to lie about what the fuck you are or are not doing in another country, not so much when the devastation is sitting in your backyard!
People are desperate, he will need lots of protection.
I don't think they want to be talked to they want action.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Finders, Looters!!
I was sent an e-mail today with pictures of people wading in the flood water of NO.
The first picture is a black woman.
The captions read " woman wading after looting from a grocery store".
The other picture is a white woman.
Caption reads " woman wades after finding bread and soda in a grocery store".
And it warms my fucking heart to know that with all this devastation,
all this loss,
all this mayhem,
that racism is alive and well in America's media.
It boggles my mind how fucking stupid some people can be.
It makes me wonder about a lot of thing though........
Like, did Dubya find himself a new presidency or did the bastard loot the election?
I can not tell you how fun it was watching the pandemonium at the pumps?
Do people not realize that panic in the populous is like a calling card for gouging?
In a three block radius the price of gas yesterday ranged from $2.89 to 3.79.
Then on the very edge one gashole was charging $4.89.
Can you say CRACKHEAD ?
I think his reasoning was that folks will get tired of the line
and come on over for expensive crap gas.
He had about 8 customers, so I guess it worked.
Not on me though!
I mosied ( how the hell do you spell that word)!
I sauntered my ass over to the QT.
Hard to saunter in a car but I do it well.
There are two entrances.
One sported a line.
The other did not.
I chose the side that did not.
Drove right up to the pumped and watched as the folks in line had blocked it up so
bad that they couldn't get around to the other side where 5 folks fueled up and left in the time I was there. I think people heard that there were lines, so folks would have been disappointed if they weren't in a line.
The line helped to make the panic real and keep the stress high.
Would give them some nice coversation of FUEL RAGE,
as they shelled out over $100 bucks to fill up the ol Suburban.
Interesting.
Don't you think?
Having gone to NO for the first time this summer, the images are hard to believe.
To actually see places I visited, or ate at under water.
Very surreal.
I wonder if the war will let up so some of those funds can be used to help the victims in this war with nature we seem to find ourselves in.
Between Hurricanes, and people being trampled on bridges, a lot of people died this week.
Many didn't have to.
I need to go read and write poetry to clear my fucking head.
I'll try not to loot any beer at the bar. But if I just find it....it'll be okay....right America?
The first picture is a black woman.
The captions read " woman wading after looting from a grocery store".
The other picture is a white woman.
Caption reads " woman wades after finding bread and soda in a grocery store".
And it warms my fucking heart to know that with all this devastation,
all this loss,
all this mayhem,
that racism is alive and well in America's media.
It boggles my mind how fucking stupid some people can be.
It makes me wonder about a lot of thing though........
Like, did Dubya find himself a new presidency or did the bastard loot the election?
I can not tell you how fun it was watching the pandemonium at the pumps?
Do people not realize that panic in the populous is like a calling card for gouging?
In a three block radius the price of gas yesterday ranged from $2.89 to 3.79.
Then on the very edge one gashole was charging $4.89.
Can you say CRACKHEAD ?
I think his reasoning was that folks will get tired of the line
and come on over for expensive crap gas.
He had about 8 customers, so I guess it worked.
Not on me though!
I mosied ( how the hell do you spell that word)!
I sauntered my ass over to the QT.
Hard to saunter in a car but I do it well.
There are two entrances.
One sported a line.
The other did not.
I chose the side that did not.
Drove right up to the pumped and watched as the folks in line had blocked it up so
bad that they couldn't get around to the other side where 5 folks fueled up and left in the time I was there. I think people heard that there were lines, so folks would have been disappointed if they weren't in a line.
The line helped to make the panic real and keep the stress high.
Would give them some nice coversation of FUEL RAGE,
as they shelled out over $100 bucks to fill up the ol Suburban.
Interesting.
Don't you think?
Having gone to NO for the first time this summer, the images are hard to believe.
To actually see places I visited, or ate at under water.
Very surreal.
I wonder if the war will let up so some of those funds can be used to help the victims in this war with nature we seem to find ourselves in.
Between Hurricanes, and people being trampled on bridges, a lot of people died this week.
Many didn't have to.
I need to go read and write poetry to clear my fucking head.
I'll try not to loot any beer at the bar. But if I just find it....it'll be okay....right America?
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