Put your Money where my Mouth is

Cliterati presents~ This Thursday Night 6/22/06 YOU & members of the Art Amok! Slam Team ! doors at 8, mic at 8.30, $5 Tower II 735 Ralph McGill Blvd.ATL Strong Drinks by Marvin ~In the summer swelter of August, 8 brave poets/coaches will head out to Dallas and then Austin,Texas for the National Poetry Slam, joining 80+ teams from around the country& the globe for a week of verses, workshops, and bardic jousts!What's so special about the Art Amok team?After months of grueling, open competition7/8ths the team are wordy wenches, battle axes & shrews who won't be tame!!!Your donation will help them make the treacherous, semi-mythic, journey .Spit words of fire with us! www.CliteratiOnline.comfor directions

bad boy, mad boy

my son was traumatized last week and it has taken him a few days to figure out what the fuck happened. he went to the dentist and was so happy until he had to get a crown. he came out very unhappy drooling blood and full of tears. last night he told me that he wants to be a police officer.? why i askedhis replyso i can arrest the dentist because i think he was trying to kill me and that's against the law. he should be in jail and i need to arrest him.got anger?

Art Not Fit For The White House

Art Not Fit for the White House7 Stages Theatre (little 5 points), Tuesday, June 13thDoors open @ 6:30pm, Show @ 7pmTickets: $10 per personAn evening of performance and visual art and Benefit for World Can't Wait - Drive Out the Bush RegimeAbout the Event:Metro-Atlanta musicians, poets, dancers, actors and artists will perform inspiring and charged monologues, poets will shout out their lyrical stanzas, musicians will sing songs of uncompromising spirit and dancers will dance to the beat of a very different drum to raise money for The World Can't Wait - Drive Out the Bush Regime movement. Through their art and creativity, artists will show their opposition to the Bush regime's dangerous trajectory, its crimes against humanity, and a vision that another world is possible. Performers include Isma'il ibn Conner, Theresa Davis, Kristie DeVille, Kodac Harrison, Alice Lovelace, Alka Roy, DJ Don Tonic, Lucky Stray, Rebecca Dutton, and many more.For more information about the growing World Can't Wait movement, Art Not Fit for the White House or to reserve tickets, contact us: atlantawcw_theater@yahoo.com, phone: 866.370.5404, website: www.worldcantwait.org.

the code

my brain was speeding so much yesterday
and my tweaked levels were off the fucking chart
so i decided to go and veg at the movies
can i just sayreading is fundamental
and any movie that is based on a book you should read the book first
the davinci code..the book was awesome
and the movie is Velveeta
not even gouda..the good cheese
they got the disturbing parts right had to close my eyes a couple times over the gore but still it was Velveeta
ronnie let me down a little bit
read
read
i am still racing mentally but i did manage to get some sleep
yeah sleep
i hadn't done that in a few days and i probably won't sleep tonight
poetry highs tend to make me restless
our all girl team is amazing
and i think we are ready
ready or not
here we come

The criminal mind!

i forget sometimes how big a bitch i can be when provoked.
so i have harranged the thief whitin an inch of his sanity. got my lawyer brother, cop ex brother and law and a host of others to aid me in this mission i like to call
" operation drive a thieving ass mother fucker insane in less than a week cause summer is hear and my boy needs his playstation"
so several threatning e-mails and some eluding to violence and the fact that i'm crazy when crossed this dumb ass responds to my email and i am going to post them


me:
what kind of idiot commits a crime with pictures of himself all over the internet? gave one to the cops, and several to my FRIENDS, they should know who they're looking for. don't you think? you sorta fucked up buddy. pissed off mom!

him, known from now on as the idiot:

first off dont even come at me lik that second i dont even no wat tha hell u are talkin about callin me a theft thrid of all how the hell can i steal something from ur house wen im way in west va. fourth of all my fuckin car doesnt even work but i will tell u wat if anyone in my family gets fuck wit belive i now how to handle it and how ever ur dauther was fuckin wit she needs to put it on them she might dont even no tha nigga and fromwat i heard and no she would would fuck any body


notice how he can't spell
classic thug

me:

tell it to the cops!
you lie like a felon!
you used my fucking card my card at a bp I went there showed your picture so i guess you got an evil fucking twin who looks like you, you fucking idiot. this is not about what you think about anything especially my daughter. is this what you teach that sweet kid you brought to my house. this is about fingerprints you fucking idiot you used my toilet dna. or is that too fucking complicated for you. you are a grown ass man, be a grown ass man not some low life who steals from 5 year olds ant teenagers. you fucked with my family. my family is big and we live in lithonia, decatur and we frequent run n shoots, and you need to learn what your mamma didn't teach you. i'm done you get what the fingerprints the stolen card and the photo id, brings to you. a real man....sorry I forgot who i wasn't talking to. and learn how to spell fro christ sakes!


notice how i misspelled for...i didn't want him to think i was above him

idiot:
watever folk my mother taught mealot before she died and she told medont fuckwit hoes but watever happeni guess ur daugther brought it on herself cause i told her i was leavin cause she had another nigga comin over but i guess wen i get back ill handle that problem

see how he almost admits to the crime, wants me to feel sorry for him then blames the victim

me:

so metro works in virginia interesting and funny when i had you tracked you we in the city limits silly computers what do they know i talked to my brother THE LAWYER and my brother in law THE COP you should be reminded that you are 22 my daughter is 17 it is against another law for you to be involved on any level with her if you come near her or my home ever again i will unleash the real dogs i'm not a child, and i already have people watching they are just waiting for the word to act keep lying to me and the word will be given My step brother THE EX CON is coming up for a visit this weekend, he'll be in town for a few weeks he likes to play ball too ya'll might run into each other oh wait that is if you're back

idiot:

you no wat we can be real i want come near her i dont want to i dont fuck wit people that cheat and lie about stupid shit thats wats this all comes down 2 but just to say i dont no y i do tha things i do but look folk u can get ur shit back i havent did anything wit it but im just trippin cause she lied to me its hard and u dont even no where im comin from my nig wen ur all by urself and have no one to turn to are live lifes fuck up dont let ur eyes fool u just cause i drove up in a car but its no even mine im as real as they come but i can be a pain if u no wat i mean but my folk came and got me cause of my livin habits such as bein on tha street havin no where to go or live u people call it homeless i call it survin but lik i saidu can have ur stuff wen i get back but please dont think im doin this cause im scared im just tiredof bullshit


he only thinks he's tired.
i've only just begun.
he admitted to taking and he's still lying because he used my check card. I want him to give me back my shit and go to jail
i can't spell check this thing cause the computer might explode

Friends

Some people throw this word around like water.
Especially in the world today.
Teenagers mostly who meet someone in the streets or thinks someone is cute and jump immediately to " That's my friend".
Bullshit.
Friends don't grow on trees, or drop from trees like fruit.
They are not found in malls or sagging and bagging in the Marta station.
Sure you can meet people and they evolve into friends but that evolution isn't instantaneous nor does it happens over night.
It happens over time.
But who has time in this quick fix society where we change friends like cell phone providers. Where new things are so readily available and friends have actually become a liability.
I have time.
Friends are very important to me.
They are paramount in my life and I would not last in this world without my friends.
Even the newest friends know that I am still learning them and gradually they will be allowed access into those parts of me touched by few.
I have tried to teach this to my children both the children I birthed and the ones I teach.
I failed.
My own thought this person was a friend.
He offered to help her by taking her to pay her cell phone bill.
He robbed her.
His name
Marcus "Slim"
His phone number 678 913-3580 ( dial *67 if you plan to call him and ask him questions like" what kind of stupid ass fuck up is he" becuse *67 will make your call private)
His Address 23 Bay Drive, Lithonia Ga.
I even have a photo:
Now here is where senior asshole kinda fucked up.
Before I got focused and pissed I only had a first name.
But because I am pissed and focused within 20 minutes I had his address and photos.
I understand that he could be crazy and if something happens you know where to go.
But like a dog with a bone I will shake this shit up till he fucking breaks or is in prison.
It takes a community to raise a child even a fucked up one. As a community we should help to eradicate the behavior of people like this.
He plays ball at run and shoot on Metropolitan Ave.
He has my bank card and has charged shit he also stole my 5 year old son's Play Station 2.
My child learned (I hope) a valuable lesson, because she could have been raped or murdered. She broke a major rule because she thought this bastard was her friend.
Her friend is now my new best friend and I will not rest until I fucking make him miserable. Please feel free to call him up and express your displeasure if you like.
But remember *67 makes your call private!
You know you should ask youself before you fuck someone over. Questions like, "Could her Uncle be a Lawyer?, Could her other Uncle be a Detective in fucking Lithonia?, Could her Mother's friend just be some violent motherfuckers who don't mind teaching the hard lessons?, Could her mama be a little scary and crazy?"
Remember there are no stupid questions, just stupid people.
Surely I'll let it go in a minute after all tomorrow is my birthday and I can't see letting this fuck up ruin any part of it. So let's just say I have turned the matter over to some friends. Done for now!
If you want to come to my party Saturday Let me know!!!

OH BUDDY!

He's the soul food

I didn't know I needed

I was starving

and I feasted

and I'm full!

Where the fuck were you last night?

I know where you should have been.

You should have been in that place

where soul stirring

and head bobbing

Were the only things we could do

to keep ourselves in our seats

and the rhythms moved us

and we couldn't dance

but we could bob our heads

and remember our humanity

and remember how to laugh

and how to feel and how

and how

and how

and how could you miss that shit!

Don't do it again!

You have a chance to redeem yourself.

Tonight at Horizons School

Buddy Wakefield, Alice Lovelace and the Art Amok Slam Team ( Stacie B., Theresa D., Phoenix YZ, Calli Starks, Jessica Hand, and Dr. Madelyn H.)

What more do you want!!!

Tonight 8pm be there or miss out!

This Friday!!!!!!

COME OUT AND SUPPORT ATLANTA'S MOSTLY FEMALE SLAM TEAM!!

HELP MAKE THE DREAM OF A WIN IN AUSTIN POSSIBLE!!!

ALL FUNDS SUPPORT THE ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM


ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM + ALICE LOVELACE+BUDDY WAKEFIELD(and perhaps a surprise cameo)
Buddy Wakefield!!!! Extraordinary human, poet, sometimes silly, always irreverent,2 time Individual WORLD Poetry Slam Champ http://www.buddywakefield.com/video/
FRIDAY, MAY 19th: Horizons School TheaterBetween the Candler Park & Eastlake MARTA Stations1900 DeKalb Avenue, NEAtlanta, Georgia 30307 gates open 8 P. M., show at 8.30 P.M.

$5 & donations collected for theArt Amok Austin Van fund!!!Please join us for this experience of live, performance poetry!

TGIF

i know i shouldn't laugh.
it's early and i can't stop laughing.
i have been telling one of my students to sit in his chair,
rather than knees in the chair among other things.
he finally tells me he can't.
it seems he ate a lot of hot wings an hot sauce last night and as he put it he has "flaming butt".
I laughed a little but told him to just not be distracting.
a few minutes later i guess he forgot about his flaming butt and sat down only to jump up suddenly. i was the only one to see it from my vantage point and tried not to laugh...
i failed and ended up sitting on the floor behind my desk cracking (no pun intended) up!
then he suddenly says i need to see what's going on and went to the bathroom.
the class fell out. he also has gas and every timehe passes gas he releases a deep breath of pain....
i am so glad it's friday.
i haven't laughed this much before ten in a minute.....middle schoolers are insane!
okay, now he has gone into the kindergarten class and borrowed mats to cushin his "bum" as he puts it.
mind you this is the same kid who jumped out on a first grader, who was on his way rushing to the bathroom, and made him pee his pants.
this is some kind of bathroom karma thing.
my face hurts from laughing so much.
happy friday to me!

Brussel Sprouts

I don't claim to be a great cook.
Hell, I don't even claim to be a good cook.
I don't even know why I like brussel sprouts and yet, I still figured out a way to burn the damn things and now, my house, well it smells like burn brussel sprouts and it's not the kind of smell that can be camouflaged with incense or air freshener.
It's a different kind of shitty smell the kind that gets into you clothes and hair.
I smell like burnt brussel sprouts.
I may even dream of burning brussel sprout crashing to the earth into my house like meteors. Enough of that.
I shall forever hence leave the burning of brussel sprouts to my children.
Then I can say things like," I can't believe you burned brussel sprout!" because that's what they said to me.
Enough of that for real now.
So I got an e-mail today from a very nice woman in Woscester ( I still don't think I'm spelling that right) who received a poem written by someone that was inspired by my brussel sprout burning ass and I want to share, because while I can't cook sprouts, maybe I can cook up a poetic feast that is inspiring to someone. I think the poem is beautiful! Full props and thanks to the poet.

The Java Hut
by Kenneth Slaughter

At 7:30 the lights go dim,
the room gets quiet,
people gather around the stage -
as if around an altar.
But this is no church
and this is no ordinary congregation.

There is a mysterious thin man
with dark glasses
scribbling something on a tablet,

noserings, orange hair,
A man wearing kilts or something.

The place is called the Java Hut
and the people appear to be from other planets.

They are here to worship poetry.

A man recites the ground rules
and reads a poem -

something about the Discovery Channel
and nature's predators
"Let's watch!" he says with ironic glee.

After this reassuring introduction
he calls my name.
I stumble to the stage ,
my poem shaking in my hands;
I start to read.

The aliens laugh, then applaud -
they are friendly after all.
I live through my first reading!

One after another
they take the stage and read their
poems- some of them funny,
all of them real.

I'm feeling good
about being here.
Then Theresa,
one of the featured poets,
reads a poem
about a real-life predator
- her own father.

I can't pretend to know
how she feels,
but I have my own pain
and her words cut through
whatever is between us
and strike my heart - like knives.

The terrible beauty of her poems
wounds me - deeply.

Afterwards
I want to hug her like a sister.
I want to tell her she hit me hard.
I want to find her a butterfly -

but I'm dumbstruck -
All I can do is stagger home
thinking
We're all in this together somehow.

Rough Weekend!

A work in progress.......


Can You Hear Me?
Theresa Davis 2006

I want to speak to you in ways
that defy language
wave lengths of emotion to complicated to translate
but simple
traveling heart to heart
ears that hear the vibrations echoing through me
fingertips that read the braille of my thought
fingertips that sign my soul
we speak without words
without sounds
Can you hear me?

Your words drip through my veins like life support
flowing freely steady drips that sustain
keep me conscious, real
skin on fire as words flow
going straight to my head
so complicated
but simple
you
meshed to me
heart to heart
ingrained,
endeared
tender yet frightening
Can you hear me?

Lifting my face
so the sun can kiss my skin
the way you do
when we talk in silence
I know you are there
I know you care
even as you correct my behavior
as you show me the way to your heart
my tongue carefully plots through you geography
mapping the way to reach you
in that land where our words are sighs and song
where lyrics don’t apply
where syllables are non entities
because it’s simple
heart to heart
open to feel what the other feels
the way we communicate
I want it to be that way
this way
I want to tell you my stories
simply
without a single word
no words
but with a kiss......
Can you hear me?

Live from MA

The mini-tour was great!
Our shows were great!
Seeing the cow road kill, not so great.
Sou, Bill and Liberty were excellent hosts and kept us fed watered and full of great conversation.
Tony was so great and made me feel so loved...I love him! We met and talked with so many extremely nice people. I love meeting new people in new places. I have been to MA before but never to Worcester. So I am not even sure if I spelled it correctly and yes I could check but considering I arrived this morning around 6:30 and am now sitting at my desk....I DON'T THINK SO.
I drove for about 5 or 6 hours straight, sorry,
forward
into Atlanta,
hopped out of the car at home,
my intention was to jump in the shower then into my car and go to work.
What actually happened was
I ran into the house pulled out the clothes
I would wear when I got out of the shower.
Turned the light on in the bathroom,
sat on my bed
turned on the TV,
you know for background noise,
and apparently fell asleep.
I'm pretty sure I was asleep
because I woke when
I thought something was crawling on me....
Actually something was leaking from me.
Drool feels like a bug
when it's running down your arm
and you didn't know you were sleep...
Don't cha think?
I was at work by 9:30...
not to shabby and I only look a little glazed over,
I have warned my students,
that the sleep deprived can be unpredictable and dangerous
so they should tread lightly.
All got it but one who replied...
"The last time somebody said that was when I was at Hogwarts and professor..."
I cut him off with a stare, then went into the hallway and laughed my ass off.
Apparently the sleep deprived also find silly shit funny...
but it was really funny....
My sarcasm and smart-ass classes are going quite well,
all A's!!!

I am there for I am, tired!

I am tired.
My body is betraying me and trying to act 40.
I didn't sleep last night.
Not at all.
I thought I was sleep but ...No I wasn't.
I woke feeling like I had been dusted with pollen and run over by a truck.
It's not unlike other mornings when I haven't slept the night before.
I was thinking about it and in the last month I think I may have slept a total of 6 days.
Probably not good.
I am expecting a psychotic episode any minute now.
Ooooh, but when I snap, I want it to be good!
I want phrases like, "We didn't see that coming'"
and " You know, I knew her ass was crazy"
and my favorite, "She did what!!!"
I go in and out of interrupted sleep cycles.
There was once this time a couple years ago I had insomnia for almost three months.
No sleep at all!
I was hanging like a thread.
People would stay in my classroom waiting for me to break or pass out.
I would lie in bed an cry myself to exhaustion. My body would shut down.
I would lie there eyes closed, but no REM cycle would happen for me.
When I finally broke, I was hanging out on a Friday with Sally, my best friend in the whole wide world, when I ran home to get something. When I didn't come back someone came to look for me . I was passed out on the bed. I was told my pulse was checked. The mirror placed under my nose to make sure I was still breathing. and Sally stayed with me the first night, I think. I slept for three days straight. I didn't eat or drink without someone rousing me and making me.
I don't want to do that again.
I am afraid that soon it is going to affect my performances. I don't want to take a sleeping pill, and I won't. I am trying to think of activities that tire me out.
I would say sex, but I can be a bit insatiable at times so I technically am not the one tuckered out. Maybe the tour will do it.
I leave Saturday for D.C./ Baltimore!
Very excited!
I love performing out of town.
I could totally fuck up and they won't know!
It's awesome!

I am listening to ME

I have been in my head for several weeks now.
I know you're probably thinking, better in your head than out of your mind.
I give you that, but being so far in your head is not good for me.
If I'm in my head how is all the good shit going to get out?
It's not.
I have had an amazing two months.
Almost all of it positive.
I made the Art Amok Slam team!
Hell, yes!
I can't wait to go to Austin and shake some shit up.
I finally think I am at the level where I can compete and not completely suck.
I don't take myself to seriously.
I don't have fits when I fuck up...
on stage...
meaning I don't have the fit on stage...
I usually give my self a good non-verbal mental tongue lashing....then buy myself a drink to make up with me.
Oh yeah, and I give myself a hug.
A big one.
Two in fact a mental one and a physical one.
I and me we have a cool relationship like that.
See, I sees me fucking up and ME says," Damn that was fucked up, I, don't do that shit again you embarrass us both." Then I listens to ME and stops talking in case I is saying something fucked up, or I stops in her tracks in case she is doing something fucked up.
Great!
It's probably a Gemini Thing, and that's all the more reason to perfect the art of an I, ME
relationship.
You should know how to recognize I and ME.
I am usually up on stage reaming a politician, cursing out an ex-husband or lover,
pretending to never want to fall in love again, and really wanting to fall in love, again.
She usually professes all these things and more in front of a mic.
Or when hanging with friends.
Or when hanging with family.
Or pretty much anytime I opens her mouth.
ME is the one who after a show is over stimulated and a little stand off-ish right off stage, at first. But she usually calms down and talks and always forgets to promote I's merchandise. And gets really strange mixed emotions when spotted at QT and reminded of lines from I's poems, or is photographed while out with digital cameras or camera phones ( I will be venting on camera phones in the near future).
After a reading, ME can't calm down she has to go somewhere surround herself with anything that may bring her down. Because I's poetry makes ME kinda high, in that non-narcotic kind of way.
Me is not as expressive as I.
She gets tongue-tied, especially when the topic is anything to do with herself in a non-mom, non-poet, non-performer kind of way. When ME has to talk about herself, I, chills in the background. She doesn't help find the words or explain themselves until she can't take ME's stammering and then she helps a sister out.
I can be a bitch like that.
But ME, doesn't hold a grudge.
The one thing that they have in common is that both I, and ME have completely lost the ability to bullshit.
Makes us kinda unpredictable in that predictable kind of way.
Me is trying to break out a little bit not be so afraid to open herself up.
I is having some issue with the whole thing.
She thinks we should control everything the same way we have been for years.
When ME and I had a lunch date to discuss the matter.
I stood her up.
I can be a bitch like that, but ME took it as a sign.
So she's sharing more personally so I's writing is changing.
I's a little shaken by this, actually frustrated and pissed off might better describe it, but she'll get over it.
All in all what I am tying to say is that for ME, listening to your inner dialogue is a good thing. Make your I, ME relationship work.
And remember, an inner dialogue is different than voices in your head.
Be careful listening to other voices in you head...those can be bad.

Come on out

It's official
I told my mom
she thinks I'm going through a phase
thinks I'm just doing this because it's easy
it is so not easy
one foot in and one foot out
easy
in some ways I can see that
I don't feel stressed
don't feel obligated and for a change I am happy
I haven't been happy in years
the only problem is my writing is changing
I have turned squishy and it's unfucking acceptable!
and it flip flops between lovey dovey
to oh, my god I've shown you my heart and now
you're going to either
fold it like an origami crane and pull a Dick Cheney
or... You're going to place it in the street(my heart) and run over it repeatedly with your car
or..You are just going to fucking crush me when this ends...
that's the problemI think of relationships as thing that end.
two marriages down, i was unhappy in both are my foundation.
you either settle and are miserable
or you are miserable so you settle
here I am not miserable actually quite the contrary
not settling,
hell I wasn't even looking
so now you can see and understand why I am so fucked up
I have never been happy
so trying this happy on and checking out how wide it makes my ass look in the mirror
and if I can properly accessorize happy
is going to take a minute.
but I gotta stop writing this squishy poetry
I was in this totally racist situation yesterday and normally
I would have lost my shit right then and there
then eviscerated her ass poetically
and all I could think was
she needs a hug
I have turned into
a pussy
a wimp
a softy
the Pillsbury dough boy
and every other pansy ass thing.....ahhhhh
It's fucked up really
not a phase
not miserable
I am happy
and the squishy poetry is not bad
it is however confusing the hell out of people
you know you've pulled a mind scramble when you do a love poem and the audience looks horrified
the pause delay in reaction is enough to give you a fucking complex and the only comment you get is a disappointing....You didn't curse once.
very funny
i guess I've gotta watch more news
someone is bound to do something to piss me of nicely and then I can rediscover my pissed off inner poet
okay
that didn't take long,
how the fuck and why would you try a scam in which the end result is six babies
how do you pull that off?
do stupid people just grow here ?
is there a farm?
that is the most insane thing I have ever heard of
see better and all because
I live in America the land of the depraved and home of the fucked up a lot
maybe the pretendo pregnant stupid woman needs a hug..
doh!

intimidating you say

note to reader
i am again not using punctuation again
i will also not be capitalizing and my subject matter is upsetting to me so i will be cursing like a fucking sailor on shore leave at a nunnery
oh yes and my spelling won't be great

i was told last night by someone that they were intimidated by me
i thought they were kidding
i hear that a lot and don't own it usually as something i exude
i don't wake up for instance and say
you know what i think i will go out and intimidate many
i am aware that i have a strong personality and at times i can be intense
even scary
only sometimes
so the same person then proceeds to hit on the person i happen to be seeing right now
blatantly
they wait of course until i leave the table and while i perform but clearly they were not intimidated enough by me
so now
i'm pissed
and i don't even care if it's not rational
the fact that this person believed i wouldn't be told astounds me
the denial when i confronted astounded me more
the fact that this person had the fucking nerve to raise a voice to me was equally astounding
but by far the most astounding thing is the fact that i resisted the urge to knock this person the fuck out
it's not an ownership thing
i know it is ridiculous to even think you can own someone
i am just happy to have the time to get to know people
owning them is not something i wish to do
it's about respect for others and self
i wasn't respected and my friend is left in a funky ass position of feeling uncomfortable

who crossed the boundary and is this other person was really my friend
i want to let it go but right now
i can't
i'm going to need a wide birth
because i haven't had the urge to pop someone in a really long time
last time i felt this way
didn't go so good there was mad violence at the Masquerade
i tried to beat someone into another century

and we all know i am way too old for this

sanity thy name is elusive

Beautiful

I keep looking for it
and maybe it's not a visual thing
maybe beauty is different everytime you need to experience it
for instance when my children were born
the beauty of hearing them cry out before seeing them
was my beauty
seeing their precious faces
or are their faces
my constant reminder
of where the sound of beauty sprang
is hearing my mom say she's proud of me my beauty
or knowing it
is protecting yourself to the point where no one can reach you
on any level because you've been hurt
self-preservation such a part of you that you don't recognize it
knowing in your heart that if you wanted to be reached
if you allowed anyone to enter protected areas
it would be beautiful
or does beauty begin when you allow those walls to be picked apart
knowing at anytime the rug could be snatched from under you
while bricks in you facade fall away
knowing you could be devastated
hoping you won't be crushed by the debris of falling walls
releasing the fear you've held
hoping it can turn to trust
then maybe it could turn into that very thing
that protects you better than walls ever could
would that be beautiful
I've been climbing over the walls I've built
to protect myself
apparently from myself
that I never took the time to look down
now I've got that fluttering feeling
as I teeter on the edge
of what could be beautiful
and it scares the fuck out of me

Karaoke Poetry!

What a night!
We had a blast and those of you who missed it missed something moving, special, and fucking hilarious! Celebrating Karen G, it's her birthday you know, and the love was there. Those who wanted to be covered sent their poems to me and I created these very cute, very clever (if I do say so myself, and make no mistake about it I do!) playbooks. Participants covered the poet they wanted! Alice (the mom) let me choose hers so I had her do poems from Stacie Boschma and Collin Kelley. Needless to say she rocked the both of them, and having your mom read a poem about sex at Collin's parents house was something that needed top be experienced. Amanda Kail's reading of The Gambler as a spoken word piece would have made Kenny Rogers proud! And you know what because we had so much fun, his ass should have been there. Collin's version of This Ones For You was superb and came with audience participation! Stacie did a great job with Butterflies and Rainbows! Karen G, covering Collin's Why I want to Be Pam Grier was soooooooo good! Phoenix held her own with GIMMIE SUM. Ethan cover The Revolution Will Not Be Televised and I believe he came in 3rd for the Slam! The funniest performance came from our only participant who was not a poet. Cutie Rochelle did a very dirty version of Spice Girls Wanna Be that sent folks running from the theater. My mother hooting and laughing it up ( and the wine may have had a little to do with it) only encouraged more naughtiness. I haven't laughed so hard in weeks. We didn't have an enormous crowd but the cool kids showed up and that's all that fucking matters! Next time you make sure you show up! We'll put you on the COOL KIDS list!
You missed the first of many Karaoke Poetry events.
Miss the next one and Coolness maybe forever beyond your reach!!!!!!!!!!!

Saulutations

I met Saul Williams on Sunday!
Then found out I knew his daughter.
Her name is Saturn.
She came to visit my school in January in hopes of being a potential student.
How small is the world.
How miniscule.
Saul, and Cindy and I talked about school, holding up the line for his book signing.
What a beautiful man.
Very profound.
I read new pieces at Java after the signing. I read a piece that resembles another squishy poem. I read it for a friend. I think it went well, there was slight blushing!
I am in flux again.
Godammit!
I don't mind the sensation of changes and changing what bothers me is the loose control I temporarily have over my emotions.
It throws me off.
I say that and some don't understand what I mean.
When I am thrown off,
it's like there is a break in the electrical impulse
that pushes information to my head.
And where I would normally
say no to something
those seconds of disconnect and I start to,
I think this might feel good.
That's it, decision made.
These are the times when my
inner guy pops up and I am thinking with parts of my body.
Not Good.
I have learned over the last couple months that
I am what you might call insatiable.
Meaning....stop playing
you know exactly what the fuck that word means.
At any rate, I'm beginning to get on my own nerves.
Hopefully I'll settle down soon.
I do have to admit....I am having lots, and lots, and lots, of fun.

Holiday

My son is so funny.
he woke up this morning in a great mood especially
considering the 3am visit to my room where he informed
me again that his leg was broken and needed to sleep with me.
He has said this to me on several sleepy night occasions,
so I am not sure sometimes if he has hurt his leg
or he just dreamed he did.
He walks right into my room.
Standing on both legs.
It's just weird 5 year old thing,
I don't think I want to understand.
This morning we get to school,
he goes into his classroom and then runs back to mine.
"Mom, I'm not wearing green! I don't want to get pinched!
It's Patrick Day, you know Sponge Bob."
This cracks my ass up!
I am laughing so hard I'm doubled over.
Then it dawns on me that he could be serious.
That would be a funny holiday,
I need to find out if he was joking.
Believe it or not his humor is so sophisticated,
dark and twisted sometimes.
He tells jokes all the time and their actually funny!
A chip of the old block!
I think everybody should say to at least one person
"Happy Patrick Day, you know Sponge Bob!"
and see what kind of reaction you get.
That is some funny shit!

wtf

oh my god!
what a crazy couple days.
my ignition switch thinggy went out and i had to have it replaced. damn unexpected expense and now i am unexpectedly broke as in no cash money honey! nada!
i don't have a lunch today so i am eating chef boy are dee.
and all i have to say is.......
why does it taste like shit?
shit in sauce. i don't think i have ever tasted anything quite like it. i am about to break my big old rule about wasting food and throw this shit away. anyhow it's more a sub-food, because it taste like shit and the meatballs look like well you know. one of my students says he loves that stuff!
kid clearly has no taste buds cause, damn!
one of my other students fell off a picnic table last friday. i called her mom and she went to the doctor and came in today with a broken collarbone! wtf!
she's been trying to write, bless her heart.

Slammed

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!

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!

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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!

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.........

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!

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.

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!

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.

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

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!

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!"

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!

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.

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!

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!

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

that you are drooling at the prospect

of such a delicious mental meal.....
Soups on....
COME AND GET IT!!!!!!!!

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!!!!

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.

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.

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!

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

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