So what am I paying for? I am not sure most days. I called in the prescription and as usual I went to pick it up the next day. The irony that it is the eve of my father’s death from the same condition I have and that he was also a Kaiser victim isn’t lost on me. So I get there and they tell me that my prescription will not be filled the doctor said I have to have an appointment before they refill my prescription. I ask “Why didn’t someone call me to tell me this?” They shrug; I go to make an appointment. They tell me the soonest appointment is next Wednesday. They give me an appointment card. I take it to the pharmacy and they give me three pills. I tell them that my appointment is a week away and I’m pretty sure that’s seven days. How exactly are three pills supposed to cover that? The pharmacy chick says she has to talk to her manager. Then she tells me that I have to get an “emergency prescription” for the other days.
I go back to the appointment desk relay the message and she tells me they don’t do that. I go back to the pharmacist and they say “well there’s nothing we can do.” I go back to the appointment desk, relay yet another message and I say. “Maybe I’m confused. You say I have to take this everyday. I have an appointment a week away, four of those days I will not take a pill so if I stroke out on day, let’s say five can I get the rest of my prescription then. Or how about, if this conversation keeps going the way it is an my pressure shoots up right now can I get a prescription then or will it work better for you if I died tomorrow, that way my dad and I can both have the same death day anniversary proud Kaiser Permente patience heightened by the fact that we both went out the same way.” She picks up a phone and calls somebody. My phone rings. I answer. It’s my sister I say loudly in the crowded waiting room, “ Let me call you back, Kaiser is trying to kill me right now.” I hang up.
Then the woman says, and, pay attention because if it makes sense to you maybe you can explain it to me. She says, “We can’t give you an appointment until Wednesday, but if you call in the morning they can give you an appointment the same day.” I say,”Then why can’t you just give me an appointment for in the morning?” She said, and I quote, “We can’t do that.” I say,” That makes absolutely no sense. You can’t give me a prescription to last until my appointment, and you can’t make me an appointment tomorrow but if I call tomorrow I can get one tomorrow and the three pills should last me until then because giving me the medication you prescribed would ensure that I can indeed make it to the appointment on Wednesday but you can’t do that.” My phone rings. It’s my friend. I say, “ Let me try to call you back. I am at Kaiser where they are planning my death and depending on how this goes I may or may not call you back.” Yes I say it loudly. She, the woman picks up a phone and calls somebody.
Then she says, “ A doctor will see you right now.” I glare at her tell her though my pressure is up I will do my best not to stroke out in the waiting room.” Then she reminds me that I need to pay 35 bucks….
When they asked me did I have a pleasant visit at Kaiser today I said, “No. It was fucked up and felt a little like pre-meditated murder, but thanks for asking.”
I don’t understand how you can keep a straight face while spewing complete bullshit. I mean I do know it is done I hear it weekly at an open mic here or there , but I still don’t understand it and this just seemed extra dumbass.. This has been a bad customer service week for me let’s just hope the muses have had their fun and I get a scathing, bad ass poem out of it. It could happen.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, February 07, 2011
of my dreams
shrugging off external judgements
the paint heavy slaps on canvas
living in each others pockets
moved by these sensations
no what ifs
no what might have been
just now
the gaping hole in my chest
shows all I have to offer
all I’m willing to give
acceptance proudly reflected
in toast colored eyes
no polluted apologies
rooted
firmly fixed in a smile
still learning the way
still feeling the earth turn
slender fingers cradle
coffee mornings
between forefinger and thumb
hanging on words draped in silence
the paint heavy slaps on canvas
living in each others pockets
moved by these sensations
no what ifs
no what might have been
just now
the gaping hole in my chest
shows all I have to offer
all I’m willing to give
acceptance proudly reflected
in toast colored eyes
no polluted apologies
rooted
firmly fixed in a smile
still learning the way
still feeling the earth turn
slender fingers cradle
coffee mornings
between forefinger and thumb
hanging on words draped in silence
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
amnesia
yeah, i don't have it. sadly i remember way more than i care to and i have no desire to delete details for the sakes of others. i have made plenty mistakes let words leak from my face without thinking and i own that. i don't pretend it never happened and i don't gloss over deals made big because of my actions. so i always find it interesting when folks try to do that with me. i mean i guess i get it, cart before the heart and all, but if i don't go with it...then what?
Saturday, January 15, 2011
On the Tooth Fairy and Other Highly Sensitive Subjects
This is an article I wrote for a school publication back in the 90’s.
as i am a terrible typist... there are errors;-)
On the Tooth Fairy and Other Highly Sensitive Subjects
While working with the young minds of the future some of their questions have filled me with hope. Other comments have scared me to death. Watching them imitate life, assume ideas, change their minds, wet their pants make friends and pick their noses has changed the way I see some things.
Many issues are raised and questions asked about the mysteries and wonders of life in my classroom. Deep profound questions like “Why does poop stink?” That was an easy one, and I was glad to answer it. I grossed them out so bad the question didn’t reappear for many years.
Occasionally, I get that one question that I know the answer to, but to answer would lead to other uncomfortable questions that maybe a parent should answer like: “Where do babies come from?” fortunately for me I have been blessed to have in my classroom that one child, who while is much younger than I, has lived and knows everything.
“Where do babies come from? You don’t know that?” This is the usual first response, which usually gets a “Yeah,” or “Please, I knew that since I was four” comment. The asker of the question still waits for an answer, while the know-it-all decides whether he or she is too learned to answer such juvenile questions. After all he or she is a second grader and could be to busy to deal with such drivel. I fade into the background to hear their theories of the world.
One year when this particular question came up they came close to the right answer. Someone knew there was an egg. While I squirmed in my seat hoping and praying they wouldn’t ask me where it was, the know-it-all of that year went on to say, “When the menstruation doesn’t happen, the egg is laid.” Her hand on what would one day be a hip.
I giggled mostly in fear, because I had no idea what would come out of her mouth next. “The mommy doesn’t have a menstruation for a lot of months, I think it’s like thirty-six, then she goes to the doctor and has her baby.” A little off but very well done I thought to myself hoping again the ball wouldn’t land in my court. “My mom says you can take it back if it’s not the right one.” Another student says and before I can interject the little miss know-it-all pipes in, “Your mother lied to you!”
Listening carefully I realize the proverbial cat is about to be let out of the bag.
“She did not! My mother doesn’t lie to me!” he shouts back at her.
“Please.” Preached Little Miss Know-It-All, “Adults lie to children all the time. Lie telling you if you eat your vegetables you’ll grow up big and strong, when all the vegetarians I know are skinny and scrawny. Like when they say the shot won’t hurt? It does!”
She paused, and I thought now would be a good time to go outside for some fresh air, but she wasn’t finished. “I bet you still believe in Santa Clause, don’t you?” Faces throughout the room looked shocked and shattered.
I stood up and spoke, “People have a right to believe what they believe, respect and don’t mess with that.” A sigh of relief seemed to flow through the room. That’s when I realized that I have exposed myself, and watching Little Miss Know-It-All, I see that she sees it too. I am now standing on that spot some of us don’t like to be standing on.
“Have you ever lied to you children Mrs. Theresa?”
I broke out in a small, but not to obvious sweat. “About what?” I recovered, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“Do your children think that there is a Santa Clause, Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy?”
My eyes widened as I prepared to be exposed like all of the other parents who were not there to witness our demise at the hands of a seven, I mean seven-and-a-half year old. Just as I was about to respond, not exactly sure of what I was going to say. My daughter, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up.
“My mother doesn’t lie to us! We don’t celebrate Christmas we celebrate Kwanzaa our ancestors bring us gifts. And if I am sitting there dying eggs, why would I believe a big rabbit brings them to me?”
A series of, “Yeah! See you don’t know everything rises from the crowd of second and third graders.
“Line up.” I say sending the class scrambling to be the first in line to go outside. Little Miss Know-It-All turned to look at me, her head cocked to the side, then turned to my daughter and said, “What about the Tooth Fairy?”
The hairs on the back of my neck did a dance. My daughter stood up, looked her right in the eyes and said, “When I lose a tooth, my mom puts it in an envelope, and the next day I have two dollars. Of course I believe in the Tooth Fairy!” Then she bounced away to line up with her friends.
Just then I felt a tug on my jacket. A very reassured Little Miss Know-It-All wearing an evil little grin looked at me and said, “I told you. Adults lie to children.”
as i am a terrible typist... there are errors;-)
On the Tooth Fairy and Other Highly Sensitive Subjects
While working with the young minds of the future some of their questions have filled me with hope. Other comments have scared me to death. Watching them imitate life, assume ideas, change their minds, wet their pants make friends and pick their noses has changed the way I see some things.
Many issues are raised and questions asked about the mysteries and wonders of life in my classroom. Deep profound questions like “Why does poop stink?” That was an easy one, and I was glad to answer it. I grossed them out so bad the question didn’t reappear for many years.
Occasionally, I get that one question that I know the answer to, but to answer would lead to other uncomfortable questions that maybe a parent should answer like: “Where do babies come from?” fortunately for me I have been blessed to have in my classroom that one child, who while is much younger than I, has lived and knows everything.
“Where do babies come from? You don’t know that?” This is the usual first response, which usually gets a “Yeah,” or “Please, I knew that since I was four” comment. The asker of the question still waits for an answer, while the know-it-all decides whether he or she is too learned to answer such juvenile questions. After all he or she is a second grader and could be to busy to deal with such drivel. I fade into the background to hear their theories of the world.
One year when this particular question came up they came close to the right answer. Someone knew there was an egg. While I squirmed in my seat hoping and praying they wouldn’t ask me where it was, the know-it-all of that year went on to say, “When the menstruation doesn’t happen, the egg is laid.” Her hand on what would one day be a hip.
I giggled mostly in fear, because I had no idea what would come out of her mouth next. “The mommy doesn’t have a menstruation for a lot of months, I think it’s like thirty-six, then she goes to the doctor and has her baby.” A little off but very well done I thought to myself hoping again the ball wouldn’t land in my court. “My mom says you can take it back if it’s not the right one.” Another student says and before I can interject the little miss know-it-all pipes in, “Your mother lied to you!”
Listening carefully I realize the proverbial cat is about to be let out of the bag.
“She did not! My mother doesn’t lie to me!” he shouts back at her.
“Please.” Preached Little Miss Know-It-All, “Adults lie to children all the time. Lie telling you if you eat your vegetables you’ll grow up big and strong, when all the vegetarians I know are skinny and scrawny. Like when they say the shot won’t hurt? It does!”
She paused, and I thought now would be a good time to go outside for some fresh air, but she wasn’t finished. “I bet you still believe in Santa Clause, don’t you?” Faces throughout the room looked shocked and shattered.
I stood up and spoke, “People have a right to believe what they believe, respect and don’t mess with that.” A sigh of relief seemed to flow through the room. That’s when I realized that I have exposed myself, and watching Little Miss Know-It-All, I see that she sees it too. I am now standing on that spot some of us don’t like to be standing on.
“Have you ever lied to you children Mrs. Theresa?”
I broke out in a small, but not to obvious sweat. “About what?” I recovered, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“Do your children think that there is a Santa Clause, Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy?”
My eyes widened as I prepared to be exposed like all of the other parents who were not there to witness our demise at the hands of a seven, I mean seven-and-a-half year old. Just as I was about to respond, not exactly sure of what I was going to say. My daughter, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up.
“My mother doesn’t lie to us! We don’t celebrate Christmas we celebrate Kwanzaa our ancestors bring us gifts. And if I am sitting there dying eggs, why would I believe a big rabbit brings them to me?”
A series of, “Yeah! See you don’t know everything rises from the crowd of second and third graders.
“Line up.” I say sending the class scrambling to be the first in line to go outside. Little Miss Know-It-All turned to look at me, her head cocked to the side, then turned to my daughter and said, “What about the Tooth Fairy?”
The hairs on the back of my neck did a dance. My daughter stood up, looked her right in the eyes and said, “When I lose a tooth, my mom puts it in an envelope, and the next day I have two dollars. Of course I believe in the Tooth Fairy!” Then she bounced away to line up with her friends.
Just then I felt a tug on my jacket. A very reassured Little Miss Know-It-All wearing an evil little grin looked at me and said, “I told you. Adults lie to children.”
Sunday, January 09, 2011
a note to would be wanna be superheroes
I get it. I mean we all have had those moments when we imagine ourselves hero and sometimes dare I say superhero. In fantasy world it’s great! We have super speed, we can pick shit up that’s ridiculously heavy and toss it like so much salad, but in reality world, we know this is not the case. I mean, we do know this? Don’t we?
Every year in my classroom I do a unit on superheroes. We discuss character traits, strengths, weakness and the difference between hero and superhero. We acknowledge the heroes in our lives our communities. Firefighters, police officers, the neighborhood crack head that doesn’t let anyone fuck with you. Citizens who protect and serve not looking for praise or celebrity. Who also go through training and know exactly how to carry out their jobs without endangering themselves or other, possibly with the exception of the crack head.
So like, you know how in pretend land, the hero, because in pretend land unless you have a super power like flying, melting shit with your eyes or sense tingling you were a hero or a vigilante. Vigilantes are those dudes or chicks that take shit into their own hands when no one asked them too. clearing throat
ANY WHO, in pretend land have you ever seen, oh I don’t know, Spiderman or Batman do an interview on, SAY, Good Morning America or the Today show? No, No you don’t! And do you know why? Because it’s a fucking secret! Yes they run around in garish costumes with shiny gadgets but that shit is on the low, because just like there are those guys that wanna do good there are those who have no problem running a train on good. So when you go on television and tell people how you used to do this at your last job but folks felt some kind of way, you are telling folks who you are. The point of a secret identity is…it’s supposed to stay secret??? Keep up!!
So in for real world American’s are slipping further and further from reality so I can see how you can mix up pretend and real world from time to time. But in the real world when you get shot no stunt real life dude guy takes the bullet for you. And if you don’t have super powers you are not a super hero. Movies aren’t real and neither is television, sometimes even the news. I know (rubbing your back), it is it’s a hard pill to swallow and I really hope you don’t end up dead because you went public like a dumb ass.
In teaching my Superhero Unit (hands on hips, profile looking fly) what happens is that when students have to take into account character, and that you don’t help people for fame or glory, that how knowing the right thing to do is hard many of them ask to create a villain. We talk about how easy it is to be the villain. No accountability is appealing to them; not having to consider the impact on others is a draw to the darker side. I don’t let them take the easy out in my classroom, but there are plenty of folks who take the easy out in this world. How else does a grown man stab a teenage boy to death in a crowded place over a cell phone?
I think it’s noble to wanna help folks but if you are helping not realizing the danger you are putting yourself in a reality check may be in order….just saying
Every year in my classroom I do a unit on superheroes. We discuss character traits, strengths, weakness and the difference between hero and superhero. We acknowledge the heroes in our lives our communities. Firefighters, police officers, the neighborhood crack head that doesn’t let anyone fuck with you. Citizens who protect and serve not looking for praise or celebrity. Who also go through training and know exactly how to carry out their jobs without endangering themselves or other, possibly with the exception of the crack head.
So like, you know how in pretend land, the hero, because in pretend land unless you have a super power like flying, melting shit with your eyes or sense tingling you were a hero or a vigilante. Vigilantes are those dudes or chicks that take shit into their own hands when no one asked them too. clearing throat
ANY WHO, in pretend land have you ever seen, oh I don’t know, Spiderman or Batman do an interview on, SAY, Good Morning America or the Today show? No, No you don’t! And do you know why? Because it’s a fucking secret! Yes they run around in garish costumes with shiny gadgets but that shit is on the low, because just like there are those guys that wanna do good there are those who have no problem running a train on good. So when you go on television and tell people how you used to do this at your last job but folks felt some kind of way, you are telling folks who you are. The point of a secret identity is…it’s supposed to stay secret??? Keep up!!
So in for real world American’s are slipping further and further from reality so I can see how you can mix up pretend and real world from time to time. But in the real world when you get shot no stunt real life dude guy takes the bullet for you. And if you don’t have super powers you are not a super hero. Movies aren’t real and neither is television, sometimes even the news. I know (rubbing your back), it is it’s a hard pill to swallow and I really hope you don’t end up dead because you went public like a dumb ass.
In teaching my Superhero Unit (hands on hips, profile looking fly) what happens is that when students have to take into account character, and that you don’t help people for fame or glory, that how knowing the right thing to do is hard many of them ask to create a villain. We talk about how easy it is to be the villain. No accountability is appealing to them; not having to consider the impact on others is a draw to the darker side. I don’t let them take the easy out in my classroom, but there are plenty of folks who take the easy out in this world. How else does a grown man stab a teenage boy to death in a crowded place over a cell phone?
I think it’s noble to wanna help folks but if you are helping not realizing the danger you are putting yourself in a reality check may be in order….just saying
Thursday, January 06, 2011
ouch!
(i am avoiding caps and some punctuation on purpose. if you don't like it, oh well)
look it's not that i'm a wuss, this shit just really hurts. it's the kind of pain that makes you do shit like get really still a listen for your heart beat, cause surly it is in distress. the dentist has never been my favorite but, no that's actually it. i was going to say something hallmarkey but yeah, i don't mean it. i'm looking at the home instructions and i guess this is bone bruising. the kind under your skin and in your face. i should have taken some days off i know but i'm stubborn and kinda ridiculous when it comes to my responsibilities at times. remember i'm the chick who went back to work with child in tow three days after having him... don't judge me?? besides you don't have a dry erase board and decimal points so that shit don't count.
so i've been on a liquid diet for several days now and i'm kinda sad but grateful no ones come by to check on me cause i can feel my inner bitch getting restless. she's a steak kinda chick and this soup and applesauce diet is not hitting the spot.
ok, on to other things before the pain killers kick in good and this stuff starts making less sense than it might make now. i made a few promises to myself this year and i am determined to make good on them.
1. stop smoking (so far so good smoke free since 1/2)
2. lose a few pounds (so far so good 3 lbs since 1/2)
3. i will take better care of myself.
now this means a lot of different things. health and heart have a lot to do with this. aside from the obvious with the smoking and other vices that are also being curtailed i have to learn to walk away from some things and some people. people like smoking, and other vices can turn toxic.
4. blog more (i'm doing that shit right now ...what!!)
5. tour.
this one is tricky but i really want this for myself. it took me a long time to find this art form and i love it and i love sharing and i need to get out and just do it. but unlike tiger woods i shall not get caught!
6. deepen my friendships.
7. fall in love.
now i know what you're thinking, YOU CAN'T SCHEDULE STUFF LIKE THAT!! WHAT KIND OF PROMISE IS THAT!! well i will tell you what, i can. lol, i guess i should amend it to open my heart to the possibility of falling in love. so i will.
7a. open myself up to the possibility of falling in love.
it took a week of listening to my own heart and voice. inside my own personal temple of solitude to actually think about how much i've been hurt in the past. how i've shelved my true heart for a while, cause i refused to let the clumsy lovers in my life damage it further. now there have been two maybe three who have figured out where i hide the step stool and they actually held it (my heart, metaphorically of course) and then something happens and maybe it's a little thing but i re-shelve and hide the fucking stool.
wooo,i think the painkillers are starting to work the whole room kinda shifted...
8. finish my book and film concepts/projects.
9. throw my baby the biggest party ever when she becomes the first of my mother's grandchildren to graduate from college.
10. continue to be me.
i know people think i should act my age and what i have to say to those people is, fuck you, you act MY age since you seem to know a hell of a lot more about it than i do. and what is that? you're uncomfortable because i enjoy my life? because i live my life? i love myself and it took a long time to get here and guess what I'M NOT FUCKING LEAVING! not until it's time for me to and those who can't adjust to my fabulousness that boarders on brilliant bouncing off of wrong, oh well.. ok starting to feel like i'm not making sense so....ta dahlings!!!!
look it's not that i'm a wuss, this shit just really hurts. it's the kind of pain that makes you do shit like get really still a listen for your heart beat, cause surly it is in distress. the dentist has never been my favorite but, no that's actually it. i was going to say something hallmarkey but yeah, i don't mean it. i'm looking at the home instructions and i guess this is bone bruising. the kind under your skin and in your face. i should have taken some days off i know but i'm stubborn and kinda ridiculous when it comes to my responsibilities at times. remember i'm the chick who went back to work with child in tow three days after having him... don't judge me?? besides you don't have a dry erase board and decimal points so that shit don't count.
so i've been on a liquid diet for several days now and i'm kinda sad but grateful no ones come by to check on me cause i can feel my inner bitch getting restless. she's a steak kinda chick and this soup and applesauce diet is not hitting the spot.
ok, on to other things before the pain killers kick in good and this stuff starts making less sense than it might make now. i made a few promises to myself this year and i am determined to make good on them.
1. stop smoking (so far so good smoke free since 1/2)
2. lose a few pounds (so far so good 3 lbs since 1/2)
3. i will take better care of myself.
now this means a lot of different things. health and heart have a lot to do with this. aside from the obvious with the smoking and other vices that are also being curtailed i have to learn to walk away from some things and some people. people like smoking, and other vices can turn toxic.
4. blog more (i'm doing that shit right now ...what!!)
5. tour.
this one is tricky but i really want this for myself. it took me a long time to find this art form and i love it and i love sharing and i need to get out and just do it. but unlike tiger woods i shall not get caught!
6. deepen my friendships.
7. fall in love.
now i know what you're thinking, YOU CAN'T SCHEDULE STUFF LIKE THAT!! WHAT KIND OF PROMISE IS THAT!! well i will tell you what, i can. lol, i guess i should amend it to open my heart to the possibility of falling in love. so i will.
7a. open myself up to the possibility of falling in love.
it took a week of listening to my own heart and voice. inside my own personal temple of solitude to actually think about how much i've been hurt in the past. how i've shelved my true heart for a while, cause i refused to let the clumsy lovers in my life damage it further. now there have been two maybe three who have figured out where i hide the step stool and they actually held it (my heart, metaphorically of course) and then something happens and maybe it's a little thing but i re-shelve and hide the fucking stool.
wooo,i think the painkillers are starting to work the whole room kinda shifted...
8. finish my book and film concepts/projects.
9. throw my baby the biggest party ever when she becomes the first of my mother's grandchildren to graduate from college.
10. continue to be me.
i know people think i should act my age and what i have to say to those people is, fuck you, you act MY age since you seem to know a hell of a lot more about it than i do. and what is that? you're uncomfortable because i enjoy my life? because i live my life? i love myself and it took a long time to get here and guess what I'M NOT FUCKING LEAVING! not until it's time for me to and those who can't adjust to my fabulousness that boarders on brilliant bouncing off of wrong, oh well.. ok starting to feel like i'm not making sense so....ta dahlings!!!!
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
the most insane stupid song in my universe
So, over the holiday I was forced to listen to the radio. The books I usually listen to were too mature for the boy so I folded and to the radio we did listen. For three days. And for three days I heard the same, maybe 12 songs, in rotation. But it seemed in every rotation the song Grenade was playing. At first, I thought it was a joke, but then scarily my children started singing along and I realized they liked it? I was confused, I mean they did come from my womb? Right? So maybe, I thought, I am being to judgmental, to serious I was not looking at the complete picture and therefore questioning my children's pedigree was to hasty. They could still be my children if this song is as ass-backwards stupid as it sounds to me, this could be another one of those genetic things they got from their dad...yeah, that's it... So I listened.... over, and over and over again. What I surmised is that this song is, to my translation, about a self-loathing, narcissist with suicidal tendencies and a low self esteem. Which translates further into NOT SEXY and EXTREMELY DUMB!
Let's pick it apart shall we.....
Easy come, easy go
That's just how you live, oh
Take, take, take it all,
But you never give
Should of known you was trouble from the first kiss,
Had your eyes wide open, Why were they open?
~Well if it's easy come, easy go then you accuse me of being selfish, I'm gonna keep my eyes open to watch your ass because I have stepped into some stalker shit and quite possibly don't know how to get out of it...yet!
Gave you all I had
And you tossed it in the trash
You tossed it in the trash, you did
To give me all your love is all I ever asked,
Cause what you don't understand is
I’d catch a grenade for ya
Throw my hand on a blade for ya
I’d jump in front of a train for ya
You know I'd do anything for ya
Oh, oh I would go through all this pain,
Take a bullet straight through my brain,
Yes, I would die for ya baby;
But you won't do the same
~Ok, now is where crazy really comes out. So you gave me all you had, wouldn't that be a choice thing something you chose to do. And all you asked for was ALL of my love....that's it? ALL of it followed by telling me how you would self emulate for me after you already accused me of throwing your love in the trash and you're mad because i won't kill myself? What FIRST? Imean if you're serious why not take the grenade, blade, train, and bullet, and then if you survive, oh wait you said you would die for me.. But wait? if I love you wouldn't I want us to live!! PLEASE...BABY,BABY Can we live!!!! So, am I a bad person because I don't think death is an expression of love??? Then this part...
Black, black, black and blue beat me till I'm numb
Tell the devil I said “hey” when you get back to where you're from
Are you implying I'm from hell or I should go to hell?????? And do you find abusive relationships that leave you black and blue attractive????
If my body was on fire, ooh
You’ d watch me burn down in flames
You said you loved me you're a liar
~Now, hey wait a minute. If you caught on fire, unless it was some spontaneous combustion, divine type shit of course I'd put you out... oh wait, who you calling a liar???
The song is a hot mess. But I does bring into focus why some of these youth I work with think that these transitional relationships that they are in at 12, 13, 14 and 15 are so intense and forever. Why they fight over people who don't want them. That whole Romeo and Juliet romance thing. Hell y'all, if you read the book you'd see that shit was a mistake. You can't prove to someone how much you love them by hurting yourself. And if you truly think dying for someone is the way to get the girl or dude...I'ma need you to think that through all the way to the end...just saying!!
Ok, kiddies, the pain killers are finally kicking in...HOLLER!!
Let's pick it apart shall we.....
Easy come, easy go
That's just how you live, oh
Take, take, take it all,
But you never give
Should of known you was trouble from the first kiss,
Had your eyes wide open, Why were they open?
~Well if it's easy come, easy go then you accuse me of being selfish, I'm gonna keep my eyes open to watch your ass because I have stepped into some stalker shit and quite possibly don't know how to get out of it...yet!
Gave you all I had
And you tossed it in the trash
You tossed it in the trash, you did
To give me all your love is all I ever asked,
Cause what you don't understand is
I’d catch a grenade for ya
Throw my hand on a blade for ya
I’d jump in front of a train for ya
You know I'd do anything for ya
Oh, oh I would go through all this pain,
Take a bullet straight through my brain,
Yes, I would die for ya baby;
But you won't do the same
~Ok, now is where crazy really comes out. So you gave me all you had, wouldn't that be a choice thing something you chose to do. And all you asked for was ALL of my love....that's it? ALL of it followed by telling me how you would self emulate for me after you already accused me of throwing your love in the trash and you're mad because i won't kill myself? What FIRST? Imean if you're serious why not take the grenade, blade, train, and bullet, and then if you survive, oh wait you said you would die for me.. But wait? if I love you wouldn't I want us to live!! PLEASE...BABY,BABY Can we live!!!! So, am I a bad person because I don't think death is an expression of love??? Then this part...
Black, black, black and blue beat me till I'm numb
Tell the devil I said “hey” when you get back to where you're from
Are you implying I'm from hell or I should go to hell?????? And do you find abusive relationships that leave you black and blue attractive????
If my body was on fire, ooh
You’ d watch me burn down in flames
You said you loved me you're a liar
~Now, hey wait a minute. If you caught on fire, unless it was some spontaneous combustion, divine type shit of course I'd put you out... oh wait, who you calling a liar???
The song is a hot mess. But I does bring into focus why some of these youth I work with think that these transitional relationships that they are in at 12, 13, 14 and 15 are so intense and forever. Why they fight over people who don't want them. That whole Romeo and Juliet romance thing. Hell y'all, if you read the book you'd see that shit was a mistake. You can't prove to someone how much you love them by hurting yourself. And if you truly think dying for someone is the way to get the girl or dude...I'ma need you to think that through all the way to the end...just saying!!
Ok, kiddies, the pain killers are finally kicking in...HOLLER!!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
hamster wheels
i know better than to expect change in anyone else. people don't change, circumstances do and the person can move within that. what is it about us that makes us crave another just to try to change them? i made a mistake. tried to tempt fate go back in time. for this i will be plagued by what if. i made the decision. one i can't take back, but to end it now, even though feelings will be hurt and i run the risk of being hated by one i used to love, it's what must be done. for a year we tried, and failed each other, and now we must move on.
Monday, November 08, 2010
November 30/30 #1
This is kinda all over the place
Shelf-life (Nov. 1/30)
Stoic sits on a shelf
Aged with ferocious unfocused eyes
He stills truth
Steals time
Tucks it between his teeth
Bites down on the word sissy
Once worn as his name
Wiped away with punch line fists
Sensitivity decorating the floor
Swept under rugs
By wayward domestic dogs
Lapping up what’s left
Confrontationally straight forward
I am angry with those starters of wars
Hijacking my safety
And hallelujah tears have no place on my landscape
No claim to this face
Because he, my father
And he can’t smell pussy on my breath
He reminds me daily that I am no man
His strong provider legs took it out on my chest
He burned the fruitcake cooking in my mother’s nurturing
I refuse to hold the softness of her
She doesn’t understand that decency
Gets you gone
Good posture
Only puts your face bulls eye level for blows
Ass kicked in locker room, street corners or alleys
He reminds me I am no man
Can’t smell pussy on my breath
So he makes it my middle name
My mother’s baby boy
Wrapped in soft, sensitivity and good posture
Can’t live in the skin she wrapped me in
And the world won’t accept me
Unless I’m hard
So I’ll be stoic
Put my emotions on lock down
Place myself on a shelf
Out of reach
Until I expire
Shelf-life (Nov. 1/30)
Stoic sits on a shelf
Aged with ferocious unfocused eyes
He stills truth
Steals time
Tucks it between his teeth
Bites down on the word sissy
Once worn as his name
Wiped away with punch line fists
Sensitivity decorating the floor
Swept under rugs
By wayward domestic dogs
Lapping up what’s left
Confrontationally straight forward
I am angry with those starters of wars
Hijacking my safety
And hallelujah tears have no place on my landscape
No claim to this face
Because he, my father
And he can’t smell pussy on my breath
He reminds me daily that I am no man
His strong provider legs took it out on my chest
He burned the fruitcake cooking in my mother’s nurturing
I refuse to hold the softness of her
She doesn’t understand that decency
Gets you gone
Good posture
Only puts your face bulls eye level for blows
Ass kicked in locker room, street corners or alleys
He reminds me I am no man
Can’t smell pussy on my breath
So he makes it my middle name
My mother’s baby boy
Wrapped in soft, sensitivity and good posture
Can’t live in the skin she wrapped me in
And the world won’t accept me
Unless I’m hard
So I’ll be stoic
Put my emotions on lock down
Place myself on a shelf
Out of reach
Until I expire
Adventures in Cheyenne
1
This always happens. Why can’t I keep my hands to myself? Who am I kidding? I always have a choice. Always. I just don’t always make the right choices. It was her confident strut that did it. Women who walk like they own their feet are definitely my weakness. And I’ll be damned if they don’t know it. As much as I enjoy being caught in this down pour of beautiful and confident women, even I know seeing four of them at the same time, is asking for trouble. I’m sorry did I say asking? Begging. Begging for trouble.
“Call for you Cheyenne.” Denise screams over the intercom.
“You don’t have to yell Denise, you are quite loud enough. I almost fell out of my chair. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, I’m still trying to get used to this thing. Cheyenne, it doesn’t make sense I can see you from my desk. I’m looking at you right now! An Intercom? If you ask me, it’s pretentious and pointless.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Your caller is still holding. Oh, wait.” She hits the intercom button and shouted, “Your caller is still holding.”
“Very funny.” I said, shaking my head.
“Thanks.” She smirks loudly over the intercom.
I answered the call and heard a voice I hadn’t heard in a while. Instantly I remembered the dress I designed for her. The way it hung on her delicate curves. Then the way it lay in a pile on my bedroom floor. I remember Mrs. Angelica Moreland and there’s nothing angelic about her. Our last encounter didn’t end badly; it just should have never started to begin with.
“What can I do for you today, Mrs. Moreland?”
“Mrs. Moreland? Are we back to formal now?” She asked.
“Business is formal, and since you are calling my office it must be about business. So what can I do for you?”
“Fine, I’ll play. Some business yes, but I wanted to catch up, you know, see how you’ve been. So, how are you?”
“I’m great. Building my own business has had its challenges but I’m holding my own. Lots of orders, so many in fact, that I had to hire a bigger staff.” I said proudly.
“That’s wonderful Cheyenne! I have to admit part of why I called you was because of the design you did for Jasmine. I saw the pictures in Elle. The dress was amazing. The way it fit her body, every part of her perfectly, I knew you spent a lot of time on her design. So, how was she?” She asked in a lecherous tone.
“I enjoyed working with her.” I replied completely professional.
“I bet you did.”
“Did you call for a real reason Angelica? I’m a little busy this morning.” I tried to sound as impatient as possible.
“ Fine. You’re no fun today. I need your services. Well the ones you provide when making beautiful clothing.”
“Those are the only services I offer, Angelica.”
“That’s disappointing, but I’m sure I can change your mind.” She cooed.
“Seriously, please, what do you want?”
“We’d be safer if we talked about my needs instead of what I want.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. It had been a year since I last saw Angelica, and she hasn’t changed a bit.
“ I need,” she continued, “an outfit for a charity event in May. I remember you need six months but surely four will suffice, plus I’m a longstanding customer.”
“I really do need the full six months. I have several designs I’m working on already. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit you in. Maybe you should come check out the designs I’ve already completed. I’m sure you will find something you like.”
“I don’t want a dress you made to fit some other woman’s body. I want you to make one for my body, my frame, my curves. If I wanted it off the rack I’d have gone to Macy’s!” she boomed.
“And if you’d have wanted me to make it you’d have called me two months ago. I can’t take another job right now. I’m sorry.” I motioned to Denise to interrupt me so I could excuse myself off the phone, but she kept putting her finger to her ear like she couldn’t hear me while pointing at the damn intercom. Note to self get rid of the fucking intercom.
“Cheyenne, please? Come see me. We can work something out.” She pleaded.
“How’s your husband Angelica?” I asked in a surly tone.
“Out of town, like I like him. Will you come see me?” She asked.
“ I’ll think about it. It was good hearing from you Angelica.” I hung up before she could reply.
I didn’t have time for this, but knowing Angelica the way I did, I knew she’d keep calling until I caved or she’d show up. That wasn’t going to happen.
This always happens. Why can’t I keep my hands to myself? Who am I kidding? I always have a choice. Always. I just don’t always make the right choices. It was her confident strut that did it. Women who walk like they own their feet are definitely my weakness. And I’ll be damned if they don’t know it. As much as I enjoy being caught in this down pour of beautiful and confident women, even I know seeing four of them at the same time, is asking for trouble. I’m sorry did I say asking? Begging. Begging for trouble.
“Call for you Cheyenne.” Denise screams over the intercom.
“You don’t have to yell Denise, you are quite loud enough. I almost fell out of my chair. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, I’m still trying to get used to this thing. Cheyenne, it doesn’t make sense I can see you from my desk. I’m looking at you right now! An Intercom? If you ask me, it’s pretentious and pointless.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Your caller is still holding. Oh, wait.” She hits the intercom button and shouted, “Your caller is still holding.”
“Very funny.” I said, shaking my head.
“Thanks.” She smirks loudly over the intercom.
I answered the call and heard a voice I hadn’t heard in a while. Instantly I remembered the dress I designed for her. The way it hung on her delicate curves. Then the way it lay in a pile on my bedroom floor. I remember Mrs. Angelica Moreland and there’s nothing angelic about her. Our last encounter didn’t end badly; it just should have never started to begin with.
“What can I do for you today, Mrs. Moreland?”
“Mrs. Moreland? Are we back to formal now?” She asked.
“Business is formal, and since you are calling my office it must be about business. So what can I do for you?”
“Fine, I’ll play. Some business yes, but I wanted to catch up, you know, see how you’ve been. So, how are you?”
“I’m great. Building my own business has had its challenges but I’m holding my own. Lots of orders, so many in fact, that I had to hire a bigger staff.” I said proudly.
“That’s wonderful Cheyenne! I have to admit part of why I called you was because of the design you did for Jasmine. I saw the pictures in Elle. The dress was amazing. The way it fit her body, every part of her perfectly, I knew you spent a lot of time on her design. So, how was she?” She asked in a lecherous tone.
“I enjoyed working with her.” I replied completely professional.
“I bet you did.”
“Did you call for a real reason Angelica? I’m a little busy this morning.” I tried to sound as impatient as possible.
“ Fine. You’re no fun today. I need your services. Well the ones you provide when making beautiful clothing.”
“Those are the only services I offer, Angelica.”
“That’s disappointing, but I’m sure I can change your mind.” She cooed.
“Seriously, please, what do you want?”
“We’d be safer if we talked about my needs instead of what I want.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. It had been a year since I last saw Angelica, and she hasn’t changed a bit.
“ I need,” she continued, “an outfit for a charity event in May. I remember you need six months but surely four will suffice, plus I’m a longstanding customer.”
“I really do need the full six months. I have several designs I’m working on already. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit you in. Maybe you should come check out the designs I’ve already completed. I’m sure you will find something you like.”
“I don’t want a dress you made to fit some other woman’s body. I want you to make one for my body, my frame, my curves. If I wanted it off the rack I’d have gone to Macy’s!” she boomed.
“And if you’d have wanted me to make it you’d have called me two months ago. I can’t take another job right now. I’m sorry.” I motioned to Denise to interrupt me so I could excuse myself off the phone, but she kept putting her finger to her ear like she couldn’t hear me while pointing at the damn intercom. Note to self get rid of the fucking intercom.
“Cheyenne, please? Come see me. We can work something out.” She pleaded.
“How’s your husband Angelica?” I asked in a surly tone.
“Out of town, like I like him. Will you come see me?” She asked.
“ I’ll think about it. It was good hearing from you Angelica.” I hung up before she could reply.
I didn’t have time for this, but knowing Angelica the way I did, I knew she’d keep calling until I caved or she’d show up. That wasn’t going to happen.
Coming Soon!! Adventures in Cheyenne
I am going to post some of my short stories on here because no one reads my blog so surely the kiddies won't;-)
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Frida #1 Cremation
This is the first of my Frida Kahlo series, feedback welcomed
#1 Cremation
In the end
When the flames touched
My body
I rose
Stood up on my feet
Not moving
Arms outstretched
An attempt to hold my beloved Mexico
The only home I knew
Knowing I was not house or home
No child left a footprint on my womb
Many children entered none crossed over
Hands crossed upon my chest
I embraced the sparks
Don’t tell the others
But I was not much
More than sparks
When I was alive
But now
I am flame
Swirling around
My once alive head
My once alive heart
You see me
Then you don’t
Engulfed
My comfort
I will visit all of my lost children
Lost no more
Warmth
I could never feel wrapped
In cold lying arms
Comfort
Something I couldn't feel
Something separate from the pain
There was always pain
Disappointment
Closer than my sister
She, may have been the thing that killed me
More than the other things that killed me
My family
The family I would never have
Your children I could never bear
Diego
Could you imagine children with my sister?
Can you feel me here?
My empty womb
My sister’s sister
The fire
Hoisted me
Beyond your reach
You will never hurt me again
I stood up for you
In the palm of your hands
For the last time
Hold me to your eyes
So you can watch me
See, the everything of my pain
Watch me
As I
Burn
I burn for you
Always,
Home
Mexico
#1 Cremation
In the end
When the flames touched
My body
I rose
Stood up on my feet
Not moving
Arms outstretched
An attempt to hold my beloved Mexico
The only home I knew
Knowing I was not house or home
No child left a footprint on my womb
Many children entered none crossed over
Hands crossed upon my chest
I embraced the sparks
Don’t tell the others
But I was not much
More than sparks
When I was alive
But now
I am flame
Swirling around
My once alive head
My once alive heart
You see me
Then you don’t
Engulfed
My comfort
I will visit all of my lost children
Lost no more
Warmth
I could never feel wrapped
In cold lying arms
Comfort
Something I couldn't feel
Something separate from the pain
There was always pain
Disappointment
Closer than my sister
She, may have been the thing that killed me
More than the other things that killed me
My family
The family I would never have
Your children I could never bear
Diego
Could you imagine children with my sister?
Can you feel me here?
My empty womb
My sister’s sister
The fire
Hoisted me
Beyond your reach
You will never hurt me again
I stood up for you
In the palm of your hands
For the last time
Hold me to your eyes
So you can watch me
See, the everything of my pain
Watch me
As I
Burn
I burn for you
Always,
Home
Mexico
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
The Return???
I haven't been posting or blogging much but all of that is about to change..... I am done hiberbnating. I have several projects in the works and one of them I would love your help with. I am a teacher and my students are taking a pretend trip around the world. We would love it if you would send us a card from where you are in the world. Send your postcards to Theresa Davis and Her Amazing Class, 1900 Dekalb Ave., Atlanta ,Ga. 30307.
The other project is a series of poems inspired by the life and works of Frida Kahlo. I will post those poems here and on facebook.
Thanks
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
Worst Case Scenario #2
#2 what to do when you hear a woman being raped
you wake with a start
disoriented you stagger to you babies room
thinking something is wrong
when you find them sleeping soundly
you focus on what you are hearing
you go back to your room
remove the butcher knife from under your pillow
and slowly creep towards your back door
you peep through the peep hole
see the man slap the woman
he tells her to shut the fuck up
the calendar on the wall tells you it’s Sunday
you watch him tear her dress
hold her down and yank at her underwear
you see him lower his pants
cover her mouth and he begins the violation
you hesitate
then call 911
you whisper what you see
beg them to leave you anonymous
they say they will
you don’t believe
you go back to the peep hole
you want to save her
you know you can’t
you pray the babies can’t hear
you move to the kitchen window
lift the blinds peek out and see the officer
you hear a scream
the officer talks into his shoulder
places one hand on his gun
you run to the peep hole
you watch the man pull up his pants
and spit on the woman
you run back towards the kitchen you see the officer
gun drawn other hand held in a stop motion
you hear the guy explain that it was nothing
you see the woman stagger out
she scream she was raped
you see the officer turn the guy around
place handcuffs on his wrist and as he looks up
the officer sees you
you stare at each other
he nods
you panic
the ambulance comes
they are all leaving
you breathe for what feels like
the first time in an hour
you do the mother thing
make breakfast
play games
talk baby talk
your head is a hamster wheel
you put the babies in their play pen
put on their favorite movie
the little mermaid
she wants to be human
and for some strange reason
you think that is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard
you shield your tears from your babies
listen to them sing a part of your world
even the one that can’t talk
and you sob
there is a knock at the door
you tense
the babies sing
you peep through the peep hole
you realize
you spend a lot of time
peering through peepholes
there is a man
the police officer from earlier
now in plain clothes
you are grateful for the absence of uniform
you open the door leaving the slide bolt in place
he hands you his card
thanks you for calling in the assault
tells you that he spoke to all of your neighbors
were at home dressed to got to church
and none of them even thought about calling
you are screaming inside your chest
he tells you
you are alone
you believe
he tells you that if you need anything
call the number on the card and ask fo him
you nod dumbly
he tells you he will watch out for you
a tear slides across your cheek
he hears the babies
tells you not to worry
you worry
when you close the door you dissolve
your babies stop singing
they watch you fold
they feel it
everybody cries
Ariel sings
you wake with a start
disoriented you stagger to you babies room
thinking something is wrong
when you find them sleeping soundly
you focus on what you are hearing
you go back to your room
remove the butcher knife from under your pillow
and slowly creep towards your back door
you peep through the peep hole
see the man slap the woman
he tells her to shut the fuck up
the calendar on the wall tells you it’s Sunday
you watch him tear her dress
hold her down and yank at her underwear
you see him lower his pants
cover her mouth and he begins the violation
you hesitate
then call 911
you whisper what you see
beg them to leave you anonymous
they say they will
you don’t believe
you go back to the peep hole
you want to save her
you know you can’t
you pray the babies can’t hear
you move to the kitchen window
lift the blinds peek out and see the officer
you hear a scream
the officer talks into his shoulder
places one hand on his gun
you run to the peep hole
you watch the man pull up his pants
and spit on the woman
you run back towards the kitchen you see the officer
gun drawn other hand held in a stop motion
you hear the guy explain that it was nothing
you see the woman stagger out
she scream she was raped
you see the officer turn the guy around
place handcuffs on his wrist and as he looks up
the officer sees you
you stare at each other
he nods
you panic
the ambulance comes
they are all leaving
you breathe for what feels like
the first time in an hour
you do the mother thing
make breakfast
play games
talk baby talk
your head is a hamster wheel
you put the babies in their play pen
put on their favorite movie
the little mermaid
she wants to be human
and for some strange reason
you think that is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard
you shield your tears from your babies
listen to them sing a part of your world
even the one that can’t talk
and you sob
there is a knock at the door
you tense
the babies sing
you peep through the peep hole
you realize
you spend a lot of time
peering through peepholes
there is a man
the police officer from earlier
now in plain clothes
you are grateful for the absence of uniform
you open the door leaving the slide bolt in place
he hands you his card
thanks you for calling in the assault
tells you that he spoke to all of your neighbors
were at home dressed to got to church
and none of them even thought about calling
you are screaming inside your chest
he tells you
you are alone
you believe
he tells you that if you need anything
call the number on the card and ask fo him
you nod dumbly
he tells you he will watch out for you
a tear slides across your cheek
he hears the babies
tells you not to worry
you worry
when you close the door you dissolve
your babies stop singing
they watch you fold
they feel it
everybody cries
Ariel sings
Worst Case Scenario #1
#1
what to do when you arrive to your home in the projects to find high and drunken men playing craps in front of your door
you are surprised
you don’t make eye contact
your octopus arms holding one baby on hip
with groceries
the other by hand
with a double stroller
you hesitate
take the key you need
hold it firmly
you quietly say excuse me
head motioning towards the door
when one man asks
bitch what the fuck do you want
you don’t tell him
you watch their bodies not their eyes
when one body relaxes
you look into that body eyes
when he says
man, let this lady get by
you are grateful
reward him with full eye contact
ignore the complaints as the men sort of
move away from the door
you juggle all the things you are holding
the babes
the stroller
the groceries
your screams and sobs
you let the key hit the lock
quickly
not so fast that they think you’re afraid
you are afraid
you tense when you feel the stroller
being pulled from your grasp
relax but not completely
when you see it’s the one with the kind eyes
you thank him
put the baby down
release the toddler
grab the stroller
whisper thank you and close the door
you engage both deadbolts
quietly
you don’t want them to think you are scared
you are terrified
you bathe the babies quickly
dress them in pajamas
sing lullabies and tell stories
when they are settled you go back to the door
peep thought the peep hole
watch and listen as the game turns violent
you cry silent tears
check the locks on doors and windows
you go to the kitchen
take the butcher knife
place it under pillow
you cry
make a promise that you will get out of the projects
know that it won’t be tonight
you cry yourself to sleep
hand gripping the handle of the knife
what to do when you arrive to your home in the projects to find high and drunken men playing craps in front of your door
you are surprised
you don’t make eye contact
your octopus arms holding one baby on hip
with groceries
the other by hand
with a double stroller
you hesitate
take the key you need
hold it firmly
you quietly say excuse me
head motioning towards the door
when one man asks
bitch what the fuck do you want
you don’t tell him
you watch their bodies not their eyes
when one body relaxes
you look into that body eyes
when he says
man, let this lady get by
you are grateful
reward him with full eye contact
ignore the complaints as the men sort of
move away from the door
you juggle all the things you are holding
the babes
the stroller
the groceries
your screams and sobs
you let the key hit the lock
quickly
not so fast that they think you’re afraid
you are afraid
you tense when you feel the stroller
being pulled from your grasp
relax but not completely
when you see it’s the one with the kind eyes
you thank him
put the baby down
release the toddler
grab the stroller
whisper thank you and close the door
you engage both deadbolts
quietly
you don’t want them to think you are scared
you are terrified
you bathe the babies quickly
dress them in pajamas
sing lullabies and tell stories
when they are settled you go back to the door
peep thought the peep hole
watch and listen as the game turns violent
you cry silent tears
check the locks on doors and windows
you go to the kitchen
take the butcher knife
place it under pillow
you cry
make a promise that you will get out of the projects
know that it won’t be tonight
you cry yourself to sleep
hand gripping the handle of the knife
worst Case Scenario
the worst case scenario guide
is laughable to me
it fails to present any scenario
I have ever had to survive
my situations may be different
but they are no less serious
and have been some of the worst things
that have ever happened to me
life happens every second
and every second we ponder
the worst
hoping for the best
is laughable to me
it fails to present any scenario
I have ever had to survive
my situations may be different
but they are no less serious
and have been some of the worst things
that have ever happened to me
life happens every second
and every second we ponder
the worst
hoping for the best
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Number 1b Haiku
The way I feel between heartbeats
I’m stuck on random
Thoughts of you and I in love
Complex, beautiful
~Theresa
I’m stuck on random
Thoughts of you and I in love
Complex, beautiful
~Theresa
Number 1a Implacable
It is said that if no one hates you for the things you do then you’re not doing it right
you reach high
arms lifted in mock prayer
believing in errors
snap judgments and omissions
holding the attention of tiny minds and
your spurious attempts at compassion
falls short like your sight
eyes on the prize, you preach
kingdom of god ,you threaten
God is Love
Inhale
God hates Fags
exhale
the contradiction doesn’t stutter your speech
you speak proudly of God as my enemy
tells me how thoroughly he hates me
self appointed messenger of the all knowing
all seeing, all encompassing
Fred Phelps
I don’t believe in every thing
For instance,
I have never believed in hate filled manifestos
maligning the dignity of family,
smattering copious amounts
of acrimonious bullshit
smeared on poster boards
standing outside of funeral homes
where broken parents
bury broken soldiers
but I do believe,
that if God needed a hype man
he would not have chosen you
your penchant for instigation makes you cliché
because you lack the rudimentary concept of human
deems you behind the times
and God’s gonna need someone who can relate to the masses
I mean what the fuck good is a hype man with no people skills
your loose affiliation with honesty
doesn’t match that whole Bible thing
he would want someone who can read
someone who understood the complexities of his master plan
someone who can spell words bigger than FAG and HATE
someone whose creativity isn’t limited to illusory words of faith
no Freddy, you are no Hype man to God
you are indeed a hater
and because you believe you have the balls of an angel
you decided to hate at the highest
and I have to say Phelps
I must be doing something right
if you are hating me on the same level as the Lord
My GOD!
I must be doing everything right!
everyone should have a hater Fred
and thanks to you
We all do
you reach high
arms lifted in mock prayer
believing in errors
snap judgments and omissions
holding the attention of tiny minds and
your spurious attempts at compassion
falls short like your sight
eyes on the prize, you preach
kingdom of god ,you threaten
God is Love
Inhale
God hates Fags
exhale
the contradiction doesn’t stutter your speech
you speak proudly of God as my enemy
tells me how thoroughly he hates me
self appointed messenger of the all knowing
all seeing, all encompassing
Fred Phelps
I don’t believe in every thing
For instance,
I have never believed in hate filled manifestos
maligning the dignity of family,
smattering copious amounts
of acrimonious bullshit
smeared on poster boards
standing outside of funeral homes
where broken parents
bury broken soldiers
but I do believe,
that if God needed a hype man
he would not have chosen you
your penchant for instigation makes you cliché
because you lack the rudimentary concept of human
deems you behind the times
and God’s gonna need someone who can relate to the masses
I mean what the fuck good is a hype man with no people skills
your loose affiliation with honesty
doesn’t match that whole Bible thing
he would want someone who can read
someone who understood the complexities of his master plan
someone who can spell words bigger than FAG and HATE
someone whose creativity isn’t limited to illusory words of faith
no Freddy, you are no Hype man to God
you are indeed a hater
and because you believe you have the balls of an angel
you decided to hate at the highest
and I have to say Phelps
I must be doing something right
if you are hating me on the same level as the Lord
My GOD!
I must be doing everything right!
everyone should have a hater Fred
and thanks to you
We all do
Poem a day for 30 days!!
I have to do better about blogging and I promise that I will do so. I haven’t given up on this blog, I have lost all of my followers however and I will work hard to get them back… so stay tuned or tune in for one Poem(or more) and one Haiku a day
Friday, January 08, 2010
Wish You Were Here!!!
Wish You Were Here, is a poetry and performance show featuring Theresa Davis (Slam Poet), Jon Goode (HBO Def Poetry, BET Lyric Cafe, CNN Black in America, Nick@Nite) and Special Guests;Alice Lovelace (Lead organizer for the US Social Forum, Godmother of Spoken Word in Atlanta), HBO Def Poetry & BET Lyric Cafe's Amir Sulaiman; HBO Def Poetry & BET Lyric Cafe's Malik Salaam; HBO Def Poetry's Dana Gilmore; Slam Poet AP and singer/ songwriter Ken J Martin. The show will take place on January the 9th @ 7stages main stage between the hours of 8pm and 10pm. Wish You Were Here will cover a variety of themes ranging from politics to love, from war to peace and all points in between. The emotions evoked through the work presented will run the gamut. The hope is to through words take the audience on an experience through the lives of the artists and since we are more similar than we know also take them on a journey through their own lives. Tickets are $10 in Advance and $15 @ the door 7stages Box Office 404-523-7647. For More info rockstarpoet@gmail.com: 404-522-0911: or 770-873-6500.
get tickets here
http://sa1.seatadvisor.com/sabo/servlets/TicketRequest;jsessionid=50CF707108788632BE735CCF46D701B6?eventId=237146&presenter=7stage&venue=&event=
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Eyedrum Free Spenecia Fleming
ARMED WITH ART is a benefit concert to raise funds for Atlanta Poet, Spenecia Fleming. The concert will serve as a means to obtaining legal counsel, etc. for Fleming, who is a member of Guilty Penmanship, a regular at Art Amok and Java Monkey open mics, and host of her own at Desserts by Latrell. She has been incarcerated since Sunday, November 8th. SHE IS ONLY 24 years-old AND HAS NO PRIOR RECORD.
Fleming "allegedly" broke a restraining order filed by fellow poets, Stefen Micko & Amanda "AlleyCat" Scott--though only a week and a half before the incident both Fleming and Micko were still in Guilty Penmanship together. She is facing charges for aggravated stalking & terroristic threats.
After many attempts we were able to file a motion for bond. Her bond hearing will be next week, Wedenesday, December 16, 2009, pending a jail transfer. If bond is set, it is possible for it to be set at $10,000. We are not sure if the price quoted to us is 10% off of $100,000 or if $10,000 is the actual bond. If it is the latter, it should only take $1,000 to bail her out. (Generally, one is only required to pay 10% of a specified bail amount).
Spenecia Fleming is facing serious time and needs YOUR help! Help us obtain legal counsel so she will have the chance at a fair trial! If you will not be able to make it, log in to PAYPAL and SEND DONATIONS TO FREESPENECIA@GMAIL.COM.
Benefit Concert: ARMED w/ ART.
When: NEXT Monday, December 14, 2009 @7:30 p.m.
Where: The Eyedrum; 290 MLK Jr. Drive, Suite 8, Atlanta, Ga 30312.
Host: Mondu Starr...
Line Up (includes):
- Theresa Davis,
- Jon Goode,
- Chauncey Beaty
- Ap~
- Amir Sulaiman,
- Ken J Martin
- GeorgiaMe,
- CaTT,
- Nukola,
- Alice Lovelace,
- Dope Poetz & MORE!
5$ DONATIONS @ the door.
Fleming "allegedly" broke a restraining order filed by fellow poets, Stefen Micko & Amanda "AlleyCat" Scott--though only a week and a half before the incident both Fleming and Micko were still in Guilty Penmanship together. She is facing charges for aggravated stalking & terroristic threats.
After many attempts we were able to file a motion for bond. Her bond hearing will be next week, Wedenesday, December 16, 2009, pending a jail transfer. If bond is set, it is possible for it to be set at $10,000. We are not sure if the price quoted to us is 10% off of $100,000 or if $10,000 is the actual bond. If it is the latter, it should only take $1,000 to bail her out. (Generally, one is only required to pay 10% of a specified bail amount).
Spenecia Fleming is facing serious time and needs YOUR help! Help us obtain legal counsel so she will have the chance at a fair trial! If you will not be able to make it, log in to PAYPAL and SEND DONATIONS TO FREESPENECIA@GMAIL.COM.
Benefit Concert: ARMED w/ ART.
When: NEXT Monday, December 14, 2009 @7:30 p.m.
Where: The Eyedrum; 290 MLK Jr. Drive, Suite 8, Atlanta, Ga 30312.
Host: Mondu Starr...
Line Up (includes):
- Theresa Davis,
- Jon Goode,
- Chauncey Beaty
- Ap~
- Amir Sulaiman,
- Ken J Martin
- GeorgiaMe,
- CaTT,
- Nukola,
- Alice Lovelace,
- Dope Poetz & MORE!
5$ DONATIONS @ the door.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
costco....? for real??
For years our young black girls have struggled with conforming to body styles
coupled with the concept of light or dark skin, not to mention straight hair vs. kinky. I think we’re good on those aspects of society that has many a brown sister second guessing her beauty and general awesomeness in a world that’s damn lucky to have her here. But it seems in light of the new climate when we find ourselves at the butt of jokes that compare us to chimps and apes, there’s one more thing they want us to ponder. So they bring us this new exciting toy……… what the hell is wrong with this picture? And it could totally be me. I could be tripping and on some other stuff. But i don’t think so, and I don’t think COSCO, who sells this lovely item, thinks so either. Or maybe they think that we’re totally ok with our children playing with likenesses of themselves called lil’ monkey. That way later when some privileged, sanctimonious, racist asshole calls her a monkey to her face she’ll deliver her yessums’ with a grin on her face and a shuck and jive in her step. It’s like the pretense has been completely forsaken there are just flinging the slurs wrapped in bows and newsprint. Who said racism was getting old, it’s new and improved baby! Coming soon to all places (if it’s not there already) near YOU!!!
and remember the diaper can fit the baby and the monkey....wtf
so what now?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
a very bad love poem;-)
this is a possible submission to the bad love poem competition. you cant use profanity, dammit!! and you only win tickets for the Shakespeare Theater Company for "As You Like It"
so, judge if you must, i think it's kinda funny
you are the pop tart of my dreams
all chocolate and fruity filling
I get all choked up when I see
your frosting covered eyes
you move me like
like that little blue thing on X-men that can be anything
you are like that to me
anything
I want, anything I need
you are the remote to my control
that flip in my flop
when I think about you baby
I just know I love you like
that
you know
that
not like this
but like
that
that thing that makes my heart
vibrate to the sounds
of our hearts beating together
but separately
In unison
when we are apart
my plan feels like its slipping
my minutes don’t roll over
and I want to sprint
so I can again be caught up in your verizon
you are the hello to my kitty
the pica to my chu
Kasuntyke
before our love blossomed
I was never in bloom
dormant
like I was sleepwalking through dreams
never rested like my spirit
an unruly poltergeist
haunted by the thought of never meeting you
but now I’ve met you
and am stuck to you like posted notes
there but not permanent
cause permanent means forever
and like that’s a long time
but I love you
you know like that
you are the jumbo to my shrimp
that yin in my yang
but you we need to use some lube before we do that
cause you know it could have the opposite effect
you are the power to my ranger
the pinky to my brain
the night in my rider
I just wanna bathe
in your sweet succulence
and have people asking me
"did you die!"
and I’ll respond
"why yes I did"
I was dying to be in love with you
the magazine subscription I never paid for
the restraining order I ignored
the authorities will never understand our connections
while we are connected
no DSL baby we went wi-fi
I think that the stars had you in mind
when they decided to shine
and now they’re jealous
because you baby,
outshine them all
cause you,
you are the pop tart of my dreams
even when i'm awake
now
that's
love
so, judge if you must, i think it's kinda funny
you are the pop tart of my dreams
all chocolate and fruity filling
I get all choked up when I see
your frosting covered eyes
you move me like
like that little blue thing on X-men that can be anything
you are like that to me
anything
I want, anything I need
you are the remote to my control
that flip in my flop
when I think about you baby
I just know I love you like
that
you know
that
not like this
but like
that
that thing that makes my heart
vibrate to the sounds
of our hearts beating together
but separately
In unison
when we are apart
my plan feels like its slipping
my minutes don’t roll over
and I want to sprint
so I can again be caught up in your verizon
you are the hello to my kitty
the pica to my chu
Kasuntyke
before our love blossomed
I was never in bloom
dormant
like I was sleepwalking through dreams
never rested like my spirit
an unruly poltergeist
haunted by the thought of never meeting you
but now I’ve met you
and am stuck to you like posted notes
there but not permanent
cause permanent means forever
and like that’s a long time
but I love you
you know like that
you are the jumbo to my shrimp
that yin in my yang
but you we need to use some lube before we do that
cause you know it could have the opposite effect
you are the power to my ranger
the pinky to my brain
the night in my rider
I just wanna bathe
in your sweet succulence
and have people asking me
"did you die!"
and I’ll respond
"why yes I did"
I was dying to be in love with you
the magazine subscription I never paid for
the restraining order I ignored
the authorities will never understand our connections
while we are connected
no DSL baby we went wi-fi
I think that the stars had you in mind
when they decided to shine
and now they’re jealous
because you baby,
outshine them all
cause you,
you are the pop tart of my dreams
even when i'm awake
now
that's
love
Sunday, August 23, 2009
a brief history
it's very interesting this thing going on with me. i know dreams come true , hopes and wishes are achieved or granted, and the poems i write about me are truth based but i've never had a poem come true until now. it's funny how life drags you along by the collar as we stumble through it. i have stumbled through a lot. i made so many bad decisions in my youth it's a wonder i have two sane braincells to rub together let alone think forward with. i submerged myself in self-denial in baby steps, and still managed to dig myself pretty deep. like in most stories of high drama, courage, slap stick and romance, it started with a girl.
this girl has been discussed at length. the topic covered by layers of really excellent poems and some really crappy ones. and even though i know Rodger probably doesn't remember, i mean why would he, but his workshop was the beginning of the excavation of my inner self. not only did it change what i write but how i write. the layer removed then i think was vulnerability. i was afraid to appear so before that workshop and then because i do nothing half way i fell into it.
the first time i cried in front of my children, ever, they thought i was dying. they panicked and cried inconsolably and i realized how much i cheated them out of. they cried and their world didn't end and they couldn't wrap their minds around the fact that yes i was crying their world was still in tact. if you've asked me back then if i thought i was emotional aloof with my children i would have called you, many names none of which would have been nice. in my relationships romantic or sexual with other people i knew i was distant, never sharing more than i wanted, never opening my heart completely. cause the last time i did that i fucked myself over.
so, full forward long ass story short girl meets girl, girl falls in love with girl, then girl denies her love for girl because to do so would make her gay and she is not. girl panics seduces a stupid boy, breaks him beautifully has a deep sense of guilt so when dumb boy asks her to marry him she says nothing so her mother accepts for her, then girl seeks THE GIRL out spends a weekend where i am sure new worlds are formed then tells girl, no they aren't getting back together because she's getting married to stupid boy, girl goes into a kinda rage and says she's done. then girl gets married, girl gets pregnant, girl gets divorce, girl has baby, girl meets another guy girl gets pregnant, then again, then girl gets divorced, falls out of a closet, has been secretly trying to find girl for all those years, takes a workshop, writes a poem, then girl goes on face book does random search like the other countless random searches she's done for years and she finds girl.
reconnecting with her has been very interesting. i don't think it will end up being some amazing reconnecting love affair but it will be something. the lightness i feel is very new. like i've been holding all of this in my shoulder and they have finally released after twenty years of holding them tight. i finally feel free.
this girl has been discussed at length. the topic covered by layers of really excellent poems and some really crappy ones. and even though i know Rodger probably doesn't remember, i mean why would he, but his workshop was the beginning of the excavation of my inner self. not only did it change what i write but how i write. the layer removed then i think was vulnerability. i was afraid to appear so before that workshop and then because i do nothing half way i fell into it.
the first time i cried in front of my children, ever, they thought i was dying. they panicked and cried inconsolably and i realized how much i cheated them out of. they cried and their world didn't end and they couldn't wrap their minds around the fact that yes i was crying their world was still in tact. if you've asked me back then if i thought i was emotional aloof with my children i would have called you, many names none of which would have been nice. in my relationships romantic or sexual with other people i knew i was distant, never sharing more than i wanted, never opening my heart completely. cause the last time i did that i fucked myself over.
so, full forward long ass story short girl meets girl, girl falls in love with girl, then girl denies her love for girl because to do so would make her gay and she is not. girl panics seduces a stupid boy, breaks him beautifully has a deep sense of guilt so when dumb boy asks her to marry him she says nothing so her mother accepts for her, then girl seeks THE GIRL out spends a weekend where i am sure new worlds are formed then tells girl, no they aren't getting back together because she's getting married to stupid boy, girl goes into a kinda rage and says she's done. then girl gets married, girl gets pregnant, girl gets divorce, girl has baby, girl meets another guy girl gets pregnant, then again, then girl gets divorced, falls out of a closet, has been secretly trying to find girl for all those years, takes a workshop, writes a poem, then girl goes on face book does random search like the other countless random searches she's done for years and she finds girl.
reconnecting with her has been very interesting. i don't think it will end up being some amazing reconnecting love affair but it will be something. the lightness i feel is very new. like i've been holding all of this in my shoulder and they have finally released after twenty years of holding them tight. i finally feel free.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Lesson Learned
I’ve been holding my breath for so long
the exhale makes me high
then I sober
wipe the condensation from my eyes
things are never as clear as they seem
never as close as you want them to be
the saddest light
is sunset
when you realize that everything precious
can slip from the hinges where you hung them
haphazard and in a hurry
we rush through
pass the beauty
before our own eyes
unable to stop the flow
or even
recover from it
waking with the slowly rising sun
I felt the earth turn beneath my feet
knew simple was better
so
I sought it out
I never pictured myself wild
even when I threw things
sometimes
threw them away
believing if they were meant to be with me
they would return
if only life were that simple
it seems life could be that simple
I’ve been listening to the chaos of my heartbeat
for more moons than I can count
and still
there is a flutter in my chest
one that quiets the noise
if I take the time to listen
like the way I once listened
to the vibration of my name on lips
I wanted to hang around my neck
a talisman
a reminder
of what not to over look
my vision
is blurry
sometimes
it takes time now to understand
the colors on my walls
define kismet
define forward
words I know well but shadow me
have me checking rear view mirrors that don’t exist
this haunted alienation
like dying amidst spectacular geography
the amethyst bruising around my heart
reminding me
I love the color purple
I loved they way I looked wrapped in your skin
and maybe it was not an illusion
lips peeled back in a ridiculous grin
I peer at my past
the photos not quiet yellowed
but the melancholy feeling
surging through me
wreaks of jaundice
no longer reluctant
I’ve been holding my breath for so long
but now I can see that space beyond fear
lungs relaxed
my breathing
is fine
the exhale makes me high
then I sober
wipe the condensation from my eyes
things are never as clear as they seem
never as close as you want them to be
the saddest light
is sunset
when you realize that everything precious
can slip from the hinges where you hung them
haphazard and in a hurry
we rush through
pass the beauty
before our own eyes
unable to stop the flow
or even
recover from it
waking with the slowly rising sun
I felt the earth turn beneath my feet
knew simple was better
so
I sought it out
I never pictured myself wild
even when I threw things
sometimes
threw them away
believing if they were meant to be with me
they would return
if only life were that simple
it seems life could be that simple
I’ve been listening to the chaos of my heartbeat
for more moons than I can count
and still
there is a flutter in my chest
one that quiets the noise
if I take the time to listen
like the way I once listened
to the vibration of my name on lips
I wanted to hang around my neck
a talisman
a reminder
of what not to over look
my vision
is blurry
sometimes
it takes time now to understand
the colors on my walls
define kismet
define forward
words I know well but shadow me
have me checking rear view mirrors that don’t exist
this haunted alienation
like dying amidst spectacular geography
the amethyst bruising around my heart
reminding me
I love the color purple
I loved they way I looked wrapped in your skin
and maybe it was not an illusion
lips peeled back in a ridiculous grin
I peer at my past
the photos not quiet yellowed
but the melancholy feeling
surging through me
wreaks of jaundice
no longer reluctant
I’ve been holding my breath for so long
but now I can see that space beyond fear
lungs relaxed
my breathing
is fine
Sunday, August 16, 2009
for Suk Maya
Number 132
a rant (rough)
when you force fed her the bumper of your car
did you know her rag doll six year old body
wouldn’t arrive to her first day of school
to the first day of her better life
that she’d never learn the language
so she could tell the story in baby glory
about the American in such a hurry
her life got in his way
so he Lincoln Navigated her out of it
only in America for twelve days
refugee camp born
exiled from a country who never knew her
but wanted her ethnically cleansed
penniless and baby-faced human
her slight frame didn’t stand a chance
Gregory,
I wish you nightmares in a language you don’t understand
clinging to bumpers to keep yourself upright
eyes wide and expectant so you can see it coming
I wish you more than misdemeanors
more than blunt force trauma, head injuries
and murder in two languages
will our justice system recognize the damage you have done
or will they slap you on the proverbial wrist
give you twelve months in exchange for her twelve days
will you have a moment of reckoning
see her face plastered on eyelids as she haunts your dreams
will you learn a few words in Nepali
recite the name Suk Maya slowly
offer an apology to her in her tongue daily
will you decide you’ll never get behind the wheel of a car again
spare the others your navigator terror
or
are you out for a spin right now
speeding to another destination
good thing there’s no school today
a rant (rough)
when you force fed her the bumper of your car
did you know her rag doll six year old body
wouldn’t arrive to her first day of school
to the first day of her better life
that she’d never learn the language
so she could tell the story in baby glory
about the American in such a hurry
her life got in his way
so he Lincoln Navigated her out of it
only in America for twelve days
refugee camp born
exiled from a country who never knew her
but wanted her ethnically cleansed
penniless and baby-faced human
her slight frame didn’t stand a chance
Gregory,
I wish you nightmares in a language you don’t understand
clinging to bumpers to keep yourself upright
eyes wide and expectant so you can see it coming
I wish you more than misdemeanors
more than blunt force trauma, head injuries
and murder in two languages
will our justice system recognize the damage you have done
or will they slap you on the proverbial wrist
give you twelve months in exchange for her twelve days
will you have a moment of reckoning
see her face plastered on eyelids as she haunts your dreams
will you learn a few words in Nepali
recite the name Suk Maya slowly
offer an apology to her in her tongue daily
will you decide you’ll never get behind the wheel of a car again
spare the others your navigator terror
or
are you out for a spin right now
speeding to another destination
good thing there’s no school today
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Randomness
funny, i didn't realize how many Rolodex i have in my head. whenever someone approaches me grinning broadly i instantly try to get context, rarely obtained. kids throw me, school, camp, rally, was i at your school, or do you know my kids? based on the wideness of the grin it helps narrow it down. the i get the do you remember me?
dude, i want to say, i've been teaching and working with kids for over 20 years?
I don't say that.
i say, of course i know you???
no i don't say that either, that would be a lie.
instead i smile and say where did we meet. she says you performed at my school with a guy named heath i think. ayodele i remember. yes i remember you, i say. she grins then runs and points me out to her mother, sister, possibly a cousin....and i realize...
i am the zoo;-)
dude, i want to say, i've been teaching and working with kids for over 20 years?
I don't say that.
i say, of course i know you???
no i don't say that either, that would be a lie.
instead i smile and say where did we meet. she says you performed at my school with a guy named heath i think. ayodele i remember. yes i remember you, i say. she grins then runs and points me out to her mother, sister, possibly a cousin....and i realize...
i am the zoo;-)
Sunday, July 26, 2009
hats
funny how once you get over the fear of your own success you can see that fear in others. trippy
my son's allergies are really out of whack. i let him go on the trip with his grandma Alice but i am bugging the shyt out of them calling every couple hours to check on him. as the mom i expect to be fully held accountable for the plants blooming, the mold growing or whatever other allergen is out there attacking my baby. it will be a rough week waiting, then i will only see him for a few hours before the advance on Florida.... too many hats sometimes, i'll wear them. they are not always on straight (god forbid), sometimes they don't match, and sometimes they make my brain sweat. but i will wear them till my head falls off..
my son's allergies are really out of whack. i let him go on the trip with his grandma Alice but i am bugging the shyt out of them calling every couple hours to check on him. as the mom i expect to be fully held accountable for the plants blooming, the mold growing or whatever other allergen is out there attacking my baby. it will be a rough week waiting, then i will only see him for a few hours before the advance on Florida.... too many hats sometimes, i'll wear them. they are not always on straight (god forbid), sometimes they don't match, and sometimes they make my brain sweat. but i will wear them till my head falls off..
Friday, July 24, 2009
consequences
i'm sorry if i saw a man looking like he was breaking into a house i would call the police and if i was the police who responded and checked it out then walked way and you decided it was a good idea to call me names and be an asshole i would arrest you. yes we do have the freedom of speech, yes you can speak your own mind, but when in your entire life has talking back to authority figures not brought consequences?
and if I am a professor a teacher what exactly am i teaching, in that moment?
i think we've arrived at that crux. that tit for tat crux where any and everything done by a white person to a person of color depending on the level of negativity will be racist. And now that black is the new presidential, we've all been upgraded to potential racist based on that bullshyt of position of power, so anything done by a person of color to a white person will be deemed the same.
we also, not all of us, but a general us, seem to think that bad taste, rudeness, and disrespect are acceptable forms of communication. this is how and why derogatory cartoons make the new york times. how a man at a town hall meeting can fix his mouth to call any woman a bitch, let alone the first lady.
these times will get a whole lot more interesting, and worse before they are over.
and if I am a professor a teacher what exactly am i teaching, in that moment?
i think we've arrived at that crux. that tit for tat crux where any and everything done by a white person to a person of color depending on the level of negativity will be racist. And now that black is the new presidential, we've all been upgraded to potential racist based on that bullshyt of position of power, so anything done by a person of color to a white person will be deemed the same.
we also, not all of us, but a general us, seem to think that bad taste, rudeness, and disrespect are acceptable forms of communication. this is how and why derogatory cartoons make the new york times. how a man at a town hall meeting can fix his mouth to call any woman a bitch, let alone the first lady.
these times will get a whole lot more interesting, and worse before they are over.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Moments
number 116 Moments
there a moments within moments
times locked away
no safer than when first born
they beckon
willing truth to rise like cream
scratching at eyes once veiled
in melancholy
smoothing memories once too close to touch
an unspoken presence
as tangible as removing shoes
willing ourselves to walk on the water of tears
collected in the worn wells
of tarnished souls
those moments show themselves
buried like treasure
unearthed in the remembering
acknowledged in the living
anger released
jaws unclenched
some windows aren’t windows
just reflections of what we close
away from ourselves
no vertical hold
our perceptions lurch
laughing becomes hard
when realization crashes
against the privacy of our own ears
when the whole world is bad reception
those moments
if embraced can realign hopes
cushion the throb behind temples
allow us to pray to personal gods that we can again
make our beds out of self respect
stop hiding from our own skin
lift the fog clouding our truths
clear our throats
embrace the emotional hangover
the mental roadblocks
focus on the space beyond our fears
our literal truths
they reside in those moments
our purist definition
no matter what the moon says
there a moments within moments
times locked away
no safer than when first born
they beckon
willing truth to rise like cream
scratching at eyes once veiled
in melancholy
smoothing memories once too close to touch
an unspoken presence
as tangible as removing shoes
willing ourselves to walk on the water of tears
collected in the worn wells
of tarnished souls
those moments show themselves
buried like treasure
unearthed in the remembering
acknowledged in the living
anger released
jaws unclenched
some windows aren’t windows
just reflections of what we close
away from ourselves
no vertical hold
our perceptions lurch
laughing becomes hard
when realization crashes
against the privacy of our own ears
when the whole world is bad reception
those moments
if embraced can realign hopes
cushion the throb behind temples
allow us to pray to personal gods that we can again
make our beds out of self respect
stop hiding from our own skin
lift the fog clouding our truths
clear our throats
embrace the emotional hangover
the mental roadblocks
focus on the space beyond our fears
our literal truths
they reside in those moments
our purist definition
no matter what the moon says
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
sorry
it seems my pc is under some strange attack where in no pictures at all are displayed. including the ones you have to click on in order to advance.then no internet at all without a long ago assigned password an attempt to reboot or whatever they call it the system... i called the att rep for tech support. he seemed shocked that i couldn't remember the password assigned to me years ago, then he told me that he would send me an email with my password..? when i asked him how exactly i retrieved email without the internet, he seemed stunned. speechless. then agreed it made no sense (reluctantly I might add)and set me a temporary password.. it still wouldn't work...so thank the goddess for my trusty MAC!
Friday, June 19, 2009
For an Olympic Champion
Number 110 (a poem for Teresa Edwards Living History)
there’s a magic here
one that speaks Morse code mysteries
dreams that live in daylight
hoops like halos
gold like medals
talismans of living history
her story
she dreams eyes wide open
future fixed on nimble fingers
she doesn’t know her place
tightrope walks baselines
a historical moving violation
carrying-over
to the next generation
a fade away jumper
she knows the love that
has surged through veins
every since the day she
fell in love with the game
a globetrotter by necessity
it’s amazing how far outside
some have to give-and-go
to move forward while avoiding
flagrant, personal fouls
follow I imagine
Spain blushed in her presence
Italy fell at her feet
and Russia embraced the
poetry in motion that is she
and she stands a finger roll away
sharing her wide awake dream
to wide eyed smiles
goal tending on her every syllable
she has the home court advantage
and her hang time mesmerizes
she’s like water and they drink her in
she seems to speak their language
double dribbles her way into their hearts
their heads pick- and – roll they are captivated
and so am i
I see she who shares my name
holding court,
the way I do
I wonder if we are twin souls
set on different courses
academic, athletic
different post positions
watching the same shot clock
counting down to five, four, three, two
one on one
like living history
her story
hoops like halos
gold like medals
talismans
full court press
we dream the same dreams
eyes wide open
focused on our youth
our futures
~Theresa Davis
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
WTF
i am so much better in my old age. the guest speaker just explained to the homophobic youth that and i quote "men wanting to be women and women trying to be men, that whole homosexual tip. that's demon possession, plain and simple. can you imagine how strong the demons are in those kinds of people. i was addicted to drugs and sent to prison but the lord saw fit for me not to have those other demons."
now, they are hearing that it is far better to be a prison hopping, pimp, drug dealer, addict than to be demonically possessed homosexual???? huuuh, i do miss the head spinning! it kills me (figuratively) when people parley (yes, i said it they are a different kind of pirate)a discussion about drug abuse into Jesus outreach. now he's advocating that the problem is school don't teach about god, so they have to seek out god on their own......whew
my face must look constipated from all this crap i'm hearing! egads
now, they are hearing that it is far better to be a prison hopping, pimp, drug dealer, addict than to be demonically possessed homosexual???? huuuh, i do miss the head spinning! it kills me (figuratively) when people parley (yes, i said it they are a different kind of pirate)a discussion about drug abuse into Jesus outreach. now he's advocating that the problem is school don't teach about god, so they have to seek out god on their own......whew
my face must look constipated from all this crap i'm hearing! egads
Saturday, June 13, 2009
arrrghhh
it's like sleep walking backwards...
everything you react to is off cause you didn't see that shit coming??? not sure if that makes sense but i think you get it. i've felt very light the last week or two a foreign feeling and i realize how taxing some of the situations time has allowed me to extricate myself from really were.
and then there is she, we may actually be too smart for each other... lots of thinking, nah... that's not it. second date jitters no doubt is what it is.
you know how every relationship/acquaintance/alliance/shipwreck you've had since you came out has been flirt, kiss, fuck and all before the first date? sometimes before the last name? and definitely before the first orgasm?? yeah, i don't want this to be that. and that's what i'm used too. hummm, i think i'm good since we managed to stay on our feet through the first date, and i know i don't want anything similar to what i've had in the past, with her or any other person i might get involved with, besides it's been a minute and i'm almost positive i've forgotten how. being interesting and ignoring sexual tension is proving difficult, but oddly stimulating which feeds back into that tension thing. so as you can see it's a big sexy mess. i want us to go dancing tonight.... but whatever we do it will be fun i am sure.
everything you react to is off cause you didn't see that shit coming??? not sure if that makes sense but i think you get it. i've felt very light the last week or two a foreign feeling and i realize how taxing some of the situations time has allowed me to extricate myself from really were.
and then there is she, we may actually be too smart for each other... lots of thinking, nah... that's not it. second date jitters no doubt is what it is.
you know how every relationship/acquaintance/alliance/shipwreck you've had since you came out has been flirt, kiss, fuck and all before the first date? sometimes before the last name? and definitely before the first orgasm?? yeah, i don't want this to be that. and that's what i'm used too. hummm, i think i'm good since we managed to stay on our feet through the first date, and i know i don't want anything similar to what i've had in the past, with her or any other person i might get involved with, besides it's been a minute and i'm almost positive i've forgotten how. being interesting and ignoring sexual tension is proving difficult, but oddly stimulating which feeds back into that tension thing. so as you can see it's a big sexy mess. i want us to go dancing tonight.... but whatever we do it will be fun i am sure.
Monday, June 08, 2009
and a child shall.....
i love these kids. they are so funny and anxious to be heard. i heard one of the kids saying to new camper, "you're going to like ms. theresa's class she let's you like have a voice." today we talked about stress and what causes stress. i helped them categorize the main causes of stress, major life changes, catastrophe, everyday problems, and environmental problems. so many divorces and deaths it makes my head spin. kids today have to be so tough all the time and they suffer from so much stress. i can't wait for tomorrow's discussion at how they cope with and manage their stress. i mentioned the topic for tomorrow and one young lady was like, "oh i can answer that one all ready, kick their butt!" i asked, "how exactly do you kick an upcoming test or an eviction in the butt?" she said, "oh, my bad, i thought we were talking about people who piss us off." I said, "do you think being angry and stressed are the same thing?" she said, "yup, being stressed makes me angry and being angry stresses me out." how you going to argue with logic like that?
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Will Ferell owes me 20 bucks!
You know how sometimes you go to a movie and after the first scene it starts going wrong. You sit there thinking any minute now it's going to get better, any minute now it will stop being shity. You repeat this to yourself for nearly two hours and it doesn't get better. Land of the Lost is that movie. So full of mistakes like wardrobe and plot. It was a bad choice for a first date. So bad in fact I felt compelled for us to see another. Determined to not have her thoughts of our first date to be "she took me to that god awful movie!" You know it's bad when after a moment of silence you both say "that was really bad" in unison. Lesson learned but I'm still thinking Will owes me 20 bucks.
Friday, June 05, 2009
let ex be ex
i was trying to maintain a semblance of friendship. i listened to the constant bitching and complaining, the constant it's all about her banter. while she goes on and on and if i talk about me i'm self-centered. well i tried, but last night she pissed me off to the point of half considering driving the fucking hour and a half to her house to kick her ass. so while i was a propnant of amicable break ups and tried to demonstrate that while you are no longer together you can still be friends, my view has change. fuck 'em if you were supposed to be together and for whatever reason you broke up, it probably means you shouldn't be together. things i've learned from this ex.
1. not all people can change
2. people who scream the most about fighting fair seldom fight fair themselves.
3. not all people can or are worth to be a friend
4. people who have to be right all the time are a ginormous pain in the ass
5. if i have to gear myself up to deal with someone, that's my sign to walk the fuck away
those are the top five.
1. not all people can change
2. people who scream the most about fighting fair seldom fight fair themselves.
3. not all people can or are worth to be a friend
4. people who have to be right all the time are a ginormous pain in the ass
5. if i have to gear myself up to deal with someone, that's my sign to walk the fuck away
those are the top five.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
ask and ye shall...
i have been struggling with my tongue. so skilled at ranting and doing the teaching, poet thing completely tied when asking someone out. it's funny to get to this place in my life and be inhibited when in the past if i wanted something or to be with someone i simply made the declaration. when did i develop this fear of rejection? i found myself asking a question today in such a round-a-bout way that by the end i didn't even know what i was asking for. somehow through my verbal meandering the message was received and in the receiving so did i. the answer was yes! and now the question is ...what should i wear??
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Redemption
so i have been a bad blogger and this must stop. some of my best venting comes from blogging and i'm feeling a little suppressed. so much happening and yes writing a poem helps but a down and dirty blog where I give not a shyt to how it is received, yes this is what I need to get back to… opps, I’m cooking a very late dinner but I will be back soon!!!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Just so you know
I am going to work up a review of the year but that could take a minute so I’ll give you the play by of the past few weeks.
iwps was amazing!!! the blast I had was memorable. I was deemed the best wing-man ever by Cuban and did the poems I wanted to leave there. yeah!!!!
I opened for R.I.S.E. on Friday. awesomeness!! my good friend Meadow was finally able to road trip with me. we had a great time! we had dinner at her favorite vegetarian restaurant, the 9% beers a nice finisher. then we, the amazing navigators of the south, left the parking deck to drive to the venue only to park back in the same lot…I blame the beer, and the quirky Asheville streets that are closer to things than they appear. we opened for the band and Meadow was meadowfabulous as usual and now all of Asheville loves her…i'm sooo not surprised.
guess what?
we’re in the band!!!!!
so, i've decided that once a month i will offer up new info about me. you know, things you may not know. hidden fears, lustful longings, meandering memories, some shyt you could care less about, that sort of thing.
so, this thing happens to be three of my fears.
my bathroom fears…..
oh yes,it's about to go down (no pun intended..or was it?)
#1. my hair touching toilet water or even the seat.
as my hair is too long, considering a trim, I have to do a certain amount of preparation before going. if loose this is usually accomplished by twisting it in a knot on top of my head, which has a tendency to shift especially when navigating the port o potty...eeewh! when braided much easier. if you ever see a dread headed woman shrieking at the top of her lungs ripping locks out by the handful this is what happened. please stop me. i don't think ripped bald is a good look for me.
I remember once maybe two years ago my hair touched toilet water, thank the goddess after flushing, but still I felt it necessary to strip down and hop into the awaiting shower. ok, I was at a party, and I didn’t know where the towels were, and people were waiting to go. still it had to be done.no i haven't been invited to another party there......go figure
#2. dropping my cell phone in a toilet.
I think I am not the only one who has this fear. this is why I purchased a pouch for the phone as this almost happened and in my lunge to catch it and #1 almost happened…would have been disastrous.
#3. dropping my wallet in the toilet.
yes, this is why I stopped carrying a wallet. once while standing after a mission completed my wallet slipped from my back pocket and narrowly missed falling in the toilet. Two weeks ago my mom yelled at me for not carrying a purse. i stared at her uncomprehending and we settled on a wallet. so I put my stuff in a wallet. was working out ok until….
so my hair is still in tact, my phone moisture free…..but I’ve learned what money laundering means on a gross level..
so I’d like to leave you with this gross but true fact,
because I am sure I am not the only one to have done this…
DO NOT PUT MONEY IN YOUR MOUTH AND WASH YOUR HANDS AFTER HANDLING..YOU REALLY, REALLY, REALLY DON’T KNOW WHERE IT MAY HAVE BEEN!!!!
Happy Holidays!!!
iwps was amazing!!! the blast I had was memorable. I was deemed the best wing-man ever by Cuban and did the poems I wanted to leave there. yeah!!!!
I opened for R.I.S.E. on Friday. awesomeness!! my good friend Meadow was finally able to road trip with me. we had a great time! we had dinner at her favorite vegetarian restaurant, the 9% beers a nice finisher. then we, the amazing navigators of the south, left the parking deck to drive to the venue only to park back in the same lot…I blame the beer, and the quirky Asheville streets that are closer to things than they appear. we opened for the band and Meadow was meadowfabulous as usual and now all of Asheville loves her…i'm sooo not surprised.
guess what?
we’re in the band!!!!!
so, i've decided that once a month i will offer up new info about me. you know, things you may not know. hidden fears, lustful longings, meandering memories, some shyt you could care less about, that sort of thing.
so, this thing happens to be three of my fears.
my bathroom fears…..
oh yes,it's about to go down (no pun intended..or was it?)
#1. my hair touching toilet water or even the seat.
as my hair is too long, considering a trim, I have to do a certain amount of preparation before going. if loose this is usually accomplished by twisting it in a knot on top of my head, which has a tendency to shift especially when navigating the port o potty...eeewh! when braided much easier. if you ever see a dread headed woman shrieking at the top of her lungs ripping locks out by the handful this is what happened. please stop me. i don't think ripped bald is a good look for me.
I remember once maybe two years ago my hair touched toilet water, thank the goddess after flushing, but still I felt it necessary to strip down and hop into the awaiting shower. ok, I was at a party, and I didn’t know where the towels were, and people were waiting to go. still it had to be done.no i haven't been invited to another party there......go figure
#2. dropping my cell phone in a toilet.
I think I am not the only one who has this fear. this is why I purchased a pouch for the phone as this almost happened and in my lunge to catch it and #1 almost happened…would have been disastrous.
#3. dropping my wallet in the toilet.
yes, this is why I stopped carrying a wallet. once while standing after a mission completed my wallet slipped from my back pocket and narrowly missed falling in the toilet. Two weeks ago my mom yelled at me for not carrying a purse. i stared at her uncomprehending and we settled on a wallet. so I put my stuff in a wallet. was working out ok until….
so my hair is still in tact, my phone moisture free…..but I’ve learned what money laundering means on a gross level..
so I’d like to leave you with this gross but true fact,
because I am sure I am not the only one to have done this…
DO NOT PUT MONEY IN YOUR MOUTH AND WASH YOUR HANDS AFTER HANDLING..YOU REALLY, REALLY, REALLY DON’T KNOW WHERE IT MAY HAVE BEEN!!!!
Happy Holidays!!!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
a finny thing happened on the way to the strip club
I am sure people think I make this shit up. I really don't. I am finding it incredibly ironic that I am always in a place where something incredibly fucked up is happening, at least once a week. This blog while describing the event will also offer up some nuggets of knowledge. Common Sense for Dummies type shit. So on ward….
The first little nugget of thought wrapped in a lesson sort of. When you learn a language, and I could just be talking about me and some friends of mine, you leaned the inappropriate stuff first. How to say asshole, fuck you, hey baby you fine, bullshit... You know stuff like that then you continue eventually incorporating all the stuff, that stuff being knowledge, you have accumulated. Right?
Now here it is important to understand this is a multi-lingual thing, I am sure when folks learn English they also learn these words and phrases. Remember English is a foreign language to most of the people in the world, hell, for most of the people in the US.
So, on to the drama. I had a thing this morning. When I got done I thought,"There is no way in hell I am cooking tonight." My plan was to go home take a nap and finish my commitments. So blogging wasn't even in the mix and because I more peck than type this is taking longer than I expected and eating into my nap time.
I digress, back on task poet! Peck Poet Peck!
So I see it my tummy does a happy little flip and I enter the building hearing a very robust "WELCOME TO MOE'S"!
They always make me feel smiley when they do that. Then I hear the side talk, in Spanish, in very snarky tones. I glance around to see who they are talking about. They are talking about a black guy who is at the soda pump. A big black guy. I make out asshole, and stealing I think I hear something that sounds scarily like nigger. The man hears it as well and snaps.
He goes off with such a blast that the woman happily making my burrito jumps spilling beans on her shoes. The other customers (mostly white) are looking terrified as fuck. The man calls the staff out on the name calling, makes it known he isn't stealing shit and will have no problem going to get a few friends to explain this to the staff. Over the commotion I tell my server…chicken, I'd like chicken.
All the employees are wearing that face. You know the one. The one you wear when you say something about someone in hushed tones and they hear you. It a combination "you heard that", "oh shit" "fukitty fuck, fuck" face. You know you know it. One of the employees finding his manhood decides to move in front of the man and laugh at the man while he is in mid tirade.
Note to reader: This is not a good idea for many reasons. Especially when you have already been threatened by the bringing of the peeps. The bringing of the peeps is never a good thing. This is that split second moment between ass whipping and police lock up. Avoid this at all costs. Walk the fuck away.
The man moves closer to the stupidly brave one. The woman fucking up my burrito is yelling call the police in Spanish. Another one of those phrases you learn first. The entire staff has been turned mute and stupid except for frantic cries of call the police. I look at the man. a combination of, "damn, let's just pull out all the stereotypes" and "there are two black folks in here and one of us has lost our minds if this continues we will have arrived together in the police report", look on my face.
I clear my throat loudly and say to shrieking girl, "YES, I WOULD LIKE CHICKEN, BLACK BEANS, RICE, PICO, GUAC, SOUR CREAM, RAW ONIONS, IS THAT SALSA HOT, YEAH NO I DON'T WANT THAT, AND I D LIKE TO ORDER THE MOO MOO FOR MY SON!
The man's stops mid stream and looks around. I say without looking back at him, "No he's not here thank God, it is Sunday right?" I say finally looking his way. He looks around at the startled people food held half way to their mouth in a stuck stupid kind of way. He threatens the staff one more time and stomps out the building. The son thing doesn't always work, but I saw he was dressed like he had been to church this morning, and clearly he was having one of those out of body experiences when your pissed levels supersedes rational thought. I don't think he wanted to hurt anybody, but if it had escalated I think he would have.
I pay for my food. The staff is a mess. All eyes fixed on the door. One of the guys start talking to the other guy, I hear the word "comprender" it means understand. When the guy answers he was too stupid to understand. I say but I understand you, why wouldn't he. Your language stopped being exclusive a long time ago.I put the top on my drink and left.
I'm sure when I left they had some choice things to say about me. Probably in Spanish. But they waited till I left see, they learned……..
And that my friends is Common Sense for Dummies Lesson one of many I'm sure!!
The first little nugget of thought wrapped in a lesson sort of. When you learn a language, and I could just be talking about me and some friends of mine, you leaned the inappropriate stuff first. How to say asshole, fuck you, hey baby you fine, bullshit... You know stuff like that then you continue eventually incorporating all the stuff, that stuff being knowledge, you have accumulated. Right?
Now here it is important to understand this is a multi-lingual thing, I am sure when folks learn English they also learn these words and phrases. Remember English is a foreign language to most of the people in the world, hell, for most of the people in the US.
So, on to the drama. I had a thing this morning. When I got done I thought,"There is no way in hell I am cooking tonight." My plan was to go home take a nap and finish my commitments. So blogging wasn't even in the mix and because I more peck than type this is taking longer than I expected and eating into my nap time.
I digress, back on task poet! Peck Poet Peck!
So I see it my tummy does a happy little flip and I enter the building hearing a very robust "WELCOME TO MOE'S"!
They always make me feel smiley when they do that. Then I hear the side talk, in Spanish, in very snarky tones. I glance around to see who they are talking about. They are talking about a black guy who is at the soda pump. A big black guy. I make out asshole, and stealing I think I hear something that sounds scarily like nigger. The man hears it as well and snaps.
He goes off with such a blast that the woman happily making my burrito jumps spilling beans on her shoes. The other customers (mostly white) are looking terrified as fuck. The man calls the staff out on the name calling, makes it known he isn't stealing shit and will have no problem going to get a few friends to explain this to the staff. Over the commotion I tell my server…chicken, I'd like chicken.
All the employees are wearing that face. You know the one. The one you wear when you say something about someone in hushed tones and they hear you. It a combination "you heard that", "oh shit" "fukitty fuck, fuck" face. You know you know it. One of the employees finding his manhood decides to move in front of the man and laugh at the man while he is in mid tirade.
Note to reader: This is not a good idea for many reasons. Especially when you have already been threatened by the bringing of the peeps. The bringing of the peeps is never a good thing. This is that split second moment between ass whipping and police lock up. Avoid this at all costs. Walk the fuck away.
The man moves closer to the stupidly brave one. The woman fucking up my burrito is yelling call the police in Spanish. Another one of those phrases you learn first. The entire staff has been turned mute and stupid except for frantic cries of call the police. I look at the man. a combination of, "damn, let's just pull out all the stereotypes" and "there are two black folks in here and one of us has lost our minds if this continues we will have arrived together in the police report", look on my face.
I clear my throat loudly and say to shrieking girl, "YES, I WOULD LIKE CHICKEN, BLACK BEANS, RICE, PICO, GUAC, SOUR CREAM, RAW ONIONS, IS THAT SALSA HOT, YEAH NO I DON'T WANT THAT, AND I D LIKE TO ORDER THE MOO MOO FOR MY SON!
The man's stops mid stream and looks around. I say without looking back at him, "No he's not here thank God, it is Sunday right?" I say finally looking his way. He looks around at the startled people food held half way to their mouth in a stuck stupid kind of way. He threatens the staff one more time and stomps out the building. The son thing doesn't always work, but I saw he was dressed like he had been to church this morning, and clearly he was having one of those out of body experiences when your pissed levels supersedes rational thought. I don't think he wanted to hurt anybody, but if it had escalated I think he would have.
I pay for my food. The staff is a mess. All eyes fixed on the door. One of the guys start talking to the other guy, I hear the word "comprender" it means understand. When the guy answers he was too stupid to understand. I say but I understand you, why wouldn't he. Your language stopped being exclusive a long time ago.I put the top on my drink and left.
I'm sure when I left they had some choice things to say about me. Probably in Spanish. But they waited till I left see, they learned……..
And that my friends is Common Sense for Dummies Lesson one of many I'm sure!!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Holding my tongue
not an easy thing for me to do. i've conditioned myself not to do it but i do understand that if by letting my words fly i'm not helping a situation best to keep quiet and watch. unfortunately, i was not born with a poker face accessory pack. my face tells on me constantly and because i can't see my face unless glancing in a mirror i am not sure what expression displays that look of "what the fuck" that many have told me they see. oh well, at least i hold my tongue right. well that is until some one asks me based on what ever expression i'm donning if i have a problem with what ever is being said or done, then no more tongue holding.
rough
there are some questions no one wants to hear the answers to, better recognize!
so, i had to pull over today to take a call and while talking i watched this guy attempt to paddle his bike up a hill. there were several things working against him the tires were low, the hill was steepish, he had dangly chains hanging off his britches which kept wrapping themselves around his knee. the thing working most against him was the fact that his pants were sagging so bad that the belt he was wearing was cradling his thighs so that the chains were dangling lower and lower, catching his knees more often, the profanity was entertaining, nice combinations, and the hill was winning. GO HILL!!!
so caught up was i, in watching the spectacle that my conversation was limited to me saying, "uh huh, and ok and uh huh and nodding", which i'm pretty sure can't be heard. i sat for at least five minutes and his progress had not improved by much. by the time i ended the call i forgot who i was talking to or what i had agreed to do. gotta love caller id.
as i passed i asked if he needed a lift or if he thought that if he lifted his pants he could get better traction. shit, forgot to hold my tongue, dammit! he swore at me, gave me the finger (two in fact) and then some new gesture that i'm pretty sure meant fuck you as well. so redundant, but i didn't say that. i held my tongue.
see i can do it, sometimes.
i did notice in my rear view mirror him pulling up his trousers, tightening his belt and place the dangling chain in a pocket. grinning, i told him to have a nice day and he flipped me off again, but he kinda smiled.
southern hospitality, ain't it GRAND!
slam tonight @ spelman's cosby auditorium at 5:30 come out if you can!
rough
there are some questions no one wants to hear the answers to, better recognize!
so, i had to pull over today to take a call and while talking i watched this guy attempt to paddle his bike up a hill. there were several things working against him the tires were low, the hill was steepish, he had dangly chains hanging off his britches which kept wrapping themselves around his knee. the thing working most against him was the fact that his pants were sagging so bad that the belt he was wearing was cradling his thighs so that the chains were dangling lower and lower, catching his knees more often, the profanity was entertaining, nice combinations, and the hill was winning. GO HILL!!!
so caught up was i, in watching the spectacle that my conversation was limited to me saying, "uh huh, and ok and uh huh and nodding", which i'm pretty sure can't be heard. i sat for at least five minutes and his progress had not improved by much. by the time i ended the call i forgot who i was talking to or what i had agreed to do. gotta love caller id.
as i passed i asked if he needed a lift or if he thought that if he lifted his pants he could get better traction. shit, forgot to hold my tongue, dammit! he swore at me, gave me the finger (two in fact) and then some new gesture that i'm pretty sure meant fuck you as well. so redundant, but i didn't say that. i held my tongue.
see i can do it, sometimes.
i did notice in my rear view mirror him pulling up his trousers, tightening his belt and place the dangling chain in a pocket. grinning, i told him to have a nice day and he flipped me off again, but he kinda smiled.
southern hospitality, ain't it GRAND!
slam tonight @ spelman's cosby auditorium at 5:30 come out if you can!
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
train wreck (repost from myspace)
before i get in to the saga, can i just say that meeting Teresa Edwards yesterday was so incredible and her speech was inspiring and did what it was suppose to do INSPIRE, MOTIVATE, and a couple other things i'm sure were just happening to me.
back to the saga..... not back to..
here goes the saga may be better..how can i go back to something not yet started...over explaining mode..i'll try to turn it off..yeah there's a switch, somewhere.?
i have long passed concluded that not everyone should talk to children. well, in a professional way. you should speak to the children in your life that's not what i mean, sure you know that, i appear to be in over explaining mode. it kicked in about four hours ago as i talked the middle schooler's down from a mini mutiny. they were very pirate and i dug the way it came about but my pirate and my teacher went head to head and the teacher won. as she should have the pirate wanted to jump in there and tell the speaker what he was doing wrong but his defenses were way to high and i find in my old age i have a hell of lot less patience with adults these days.
the discussion was about drug awareness. it should have been called use scary statistics, nasty pictures, watery facts and package it to try to scare the hell out of kids awareness. i could see how it works on a certain group. but what i know about working with kids is you have to mix it up. you have to listen to gauge the maturity of the audience and which voice will work, kinda like slam , except they don't throw tens when you get it right but the can sling some venomous attitude if you get it wrong.
they were broken down into two groups. and the talk went over better with the younger kids. most of them disengaged early and he made the mistake of answering questions that were way to irrelevant to his point. the older kids not so much. they have a tendency to listen. now mind you it's mostly to catch you in a mistake or to dispute what you're saying, but they listen.
while i was listening i caught several skewed facts. he was harping on smoking pot, a lot. underestimating their knowledge of this particular drug.
what was done wrong.....
1. he started off ok, then made a blanket statement.
my definition of a blanket statement is one that is vague and covers too much to make your point stronger.
he was talking about inhalants and how dangerous they are. the kids were with him until he said that anything you inhale through your nose besides air is probably bad for you. now knowing the middle school mind i knew immediately what would happen and before i could say anything it started. "i inhale the smell of coffee every morning when my mom makes it. i smell my food. i guess i should tell my dad not to smell the flowers i bought him for father's day. omg, i can smell your perfume, it's damaging me, go away." the giggles started. the point was lost. his body language changed and said he was irritated. then his tone changed saying that he IS irritated.
2. he then made a statement about how damaging pot is and that people will say that they got a prescription for it but they are lying because that is just what people who like to smoke pot say. another blanket statement with loop holes this time. one kid says they prescribe marijuana for aids patients who suffer from side effects of their medication. he said they do not. now maybe what he meant to say was the prescription is not called marijuana. maybe what he meant was you can't get a prescription for marijuana plants in this state playing technical with the wording and leaving out that marinol (legal thc) is prescribed. but telling them only part of the information contaminates the information. at this point most are not listening, because they don't believe him and he's using his slightly ticked voice so now they are responding to it by becoming defensive.
3. then because they are talking amongst themselves disputing the information he just gave them he decides to shame them.. fyi, middle schoolers can be shamed into doing the right thing but not usually in large groups. he tells them that he gave the same talk to a group of white students and asked them to guess how many times he had to ask them to be quiet. NONE, he blares and the are now mutinous. shaming not highly recommended there are better ways to get their attention. comparing a group of black urban youth to white children in an effort to make them conform has never worked by anyone i've ever seen trying to execute it. just saying.
4. then because they are really not listening he switches to incarcerated youth and pulls up stats highlighting the statistics referring to black youth and acting like they can't see the stats for whites. then he says "Georgia gave a test called the crct. over 53% of the students who took it failed it asked them if they knew why." hands were raised. he ignored them and went on to say it was because they were either on drugs or in jail.
oh, snap!
did you hear that?
it was the straw that broke the camels back.
hands flew into the air. he looked at them ignored them turned his back ignored them then announced he wasn't taking any questions. pandefuckingmonium.
one girl insists says "the reason those kids failed had a lot more to do with the curriculum than anything else and why didn't he mention the number of white kids in jail or on meth? and not only black children go to school in the state of Georgia and how many of that 53% was white? (he should have never brought race into the conversation, and the fact that he was black did not help)
here i have to admit, my pirate was like you tell him girl, get the answer to your questions. but when he got in her face and started trying to shout her down with "we are not discussing this, and you don't know what your talking about" her body language matching his it was clear the discussion was over.
i pulled her aside and told her there are better ways to get your point across. just being right can't be your bottom line. if you know you're right sometimes that will have to do, because there will be lots of times when you are right and arguing that with some adults will not be to your advantage.
crazy...it was.. i guess i get it when some people cringe when i proudly say..i teach middle school, they can be a handful, especially when you DON'T know how to speak their language..i am fluent in mad middle schoolese;-)
back to the saga..... not back to..
here goes the saga may be better..how can i go back to something not yet started...over explaining mode..i'll try to turn it off..yeah there's a switch, somewhere.?
i have long passed concluded that not everyone should talk to children. well, in a professional way. you should speak to the children in your life that's not what i mean, sure you know that, i appear to be in over explaining mode. it kicked in about four hours ago as i talked the middle schooler's down from a mini mutiny. they were very pirate and i dug the way it came about but my pirate and my teacher went head to head and the teacher won. as she should have the pirate wanted to jump in there and tell the speaker what he was doing wrong but his defenses were way to high and i find in my old age i have a hell of lot less patience with adults these days.
the discussion was about drug awareness. it should have been called use scary statistics, nasty pictures, watery facts and package it to try to scare the hell out of kids awareness. i could see how it works on a certain group. but what i know about working with kids is you have to mix it up. you have to listen to gauge the maturity of the audience and which voice will work, kinda like slam , except they don't throw tens when you get it right but the can sling some venomous attitude if you get it wrong.
they were broken down into two groups. and the talk went over better with the younger kids. most of them disengaged early and he made the mistake of answering questions that were way to irrelevant to his point. the older kids not so much. they have a tendency to listen. now mind you it's mostly to catch you in a mistake or to dispute what you're saying, but they listen.
while i was listening i caught several skewed facts. he was harping on smoking pot, a lot. underestimating their knowledge of this particular drug.
what was done wrong.....
1. he started off ok, then made a blanket statement.
my definition of a blanket statement is one that is vague and covers too much to make your point stronger.
he was talking about inhalants and how dangerous they are. the kids were with him until he said that anything you inhale through your nose besides air is probably bad for you. now knowing the middle school mind i knew immediately what would happen and before i could say anything it started. "i inhale the smell of coffee every morning when my mom makes it. i smell my food. i guess i should tell my dad not to smell the flowers i bought him for father's day. omg, i can smell your perfume, it's damaging me, go away." the giggles started. the point was lost. his body language changed and said he was irritated. then his tone changed saying that he IS irritated.
2. he then made a statement about how damaging pot is and that people will say that they got a prescription for it but they are lying because that is just what people who like to smoke pot say. another blanket statement with loop holes this time. one kid says they prescribe marijuana for aids patients who suffer from side effects of their medication. he said they do not. now maybe what he meant to say was the prescription is not called marijuana. maybe what he meant was you can't get a prescription for marijuana plants in this state playing technical with the wording and leaving out that marinol (legal thc) is prescribed. but telling them only part of the information contaminates the information. at this point most are not listening, because they don't believe him and he's using his slightly ticked voice so now they are responding to it by becoming defensive.
3. then because they are talking amongst themselves disputing the information he just gave them he decides to shame them.. fyi, middle schoolers can be shamed into doing the right thing but not usually in large groups. he tells them that he gave the same talk to a group of white students and asked them to guess how many times he had to ask them to be quiet. NONE, he blares and the are now mutinous. shaming not highly recommended there are better ways to get their attention. comparing a group of black urban youth to white children in an effort to make them conform has never worked by anyone i've ever seen trying to execute it. just saying.
4. then because they are really not listening he switches to incarcerated youth and pulls up stats highlighting the statistics referring to black youth and acting like they can't see the stats for whites. then he says "Georgia gave a test called the crct. over 53% of the students who took it failed it asked them if they knew why." hands were raised. he ignored them and went on to say it was because they were either on drugs or in jail.
oh, snap!
did you hear that?
it was the straw that broke the camels back.
hands flew into the air. he looked at them ignored them turned his back ignored them then announced he wasn't taking any questions. pandefuckingmonium.
one girl insists says "the reason those kids failed had a lot more to do with the curriculum than anything else and why didn't he mention the number of white kids in jail or on meth? and not only black children go to school in the state of Georgia and how many of that 53% was white? (he should have never brought race into the conversation, and the fact that he was black did not help)
here i have to admit, my pirate was like you tell him girl, get the answer to your questions. but when he got in her face and started trying to shout her down with "we are not discussing this, and you don't know what your talking about" her body language matching his it was clear the discussion was over.
i pulled her aside and told her there are better ways to get your point across. just being right can't be your bottom line. if you know you're right sometimes that will have to do, because there will be lots of times when you are right and arguing that with some adults will not be to your advantage.
crazy...it was.. i guess i get it when some people cringe when i proudly say..i teach middle school, they can be a handful, especially when you DON'T know how to speak their language..i am fluent in mad middle schoolese;-)
Monday, February 25, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
My Poor Angry Spoon
So, I can’t beat the children. For many reasons like, they are not mine and we live in the land of litigation. So, I have a few tools to deal with things like the ever existing time out. I am also creative and the idea that I may exact one of my monstrous creations keeps folks in check on big things. The fact that I’m the teacher that on a whim will call a field trip and if someone has been in trouble they know they won’t go and like my hot flashes they never know when the mood may strike me to just up and go. I also have the angry spoon. The angry spoon is a wooden spoon with angry eyes. Much like the angry eyes I wore that Halloween when I was a Mad Cow and harassed the good people at Mc Donald’s and Wendy’s..whew that was a funny Halloween…I digress. So the angry spoon is that thing I can grab and wave when they are talking too much or too loud and I can bang it on the desk to get their attention. My daughter was helping in my class one day and she thought the angry spoon could be angrier. She added a mouth. Now my angry spoon creation merely looks irritated, confused or slightly disgruntled. The other angry spoons would laugh at it and he has lost his effectiveness in assisting in matters of behavior. The kids’ sort of snicker now when I wave it around. Any suggestions on how we can restore the awesome fierceness of the angry spoon please help…remember angry spoons need love too!
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Friday, February 01, 2008
fuzzy and the fuzz
i am in a better mood but a strange place. letting things go is liberating but then the pangs of regret start. i gots pangs, ya'll... but if i can stay away for two weeks i'll be over the hurdle. with other vices i can't quit cold turkey proven by the fact that i'm still smoking and other things but with the three letter word.... cold turkey is best, well not best but necessary. one week down...whew... i think it'll be easier this time to extricate myself from the past. if i'm truly seeking the future attempting to see her face then i think i might need to focus...until it gets boring.... part of the problem i think is i don't act all older...that's fucking boring. i don't like to be bored..in case that wasn't clear.. and i don't mean i have to be entertained constantly, a movie, a play, strip scrabble, creating art....a drive to the mountains, .. so there are a lot of non-boring activities that don't include the three letter word;-) i would like to do something fun this weekend i want a passionate discussion about every fucking thing like worked up passion then mindless laughing hysterical even...
and i gotta stop reading my horror scope..not that i follow them so much i just think it's ironic when they sum up my week. i was practicing on my porch last night in the rain.a police car went by. then another, or maybe it was the same one? then it went by again. slowly. then it stopped and he flashed a light at me and said
do you live here?
i look at my clothes i'm sporting the Judy Jetson flannel pajamas set that is bright as hell pink and fuzzy slippers.
Yes, officer i live here.
what are you doing?
i'm practicing my poetry for a slam on Saturday night.
for a what?
a poetry slam.
what the hell is that?
i explain. he laughs. and drives away.
fucking philistine. dude i am cursing so much today. I slipped in class twice and made fuck, fudge and shit shyite which Will said was still the same word but like in medieval times. Which made me think of Heath Ledger………
who wants to go out tonight!! call me cause well....i'm bored... i swear i am not high maintenance i just require stimulation and you can wrap that one around your head any way you like because that's probably what i mean.....just sayin!
come to the slam this weekend and judge me....you know you wanna!
and i gotta stop reading my horror scope..not that i follow them so much i just think it's ironic when they sum up my week. i was practicing on my porch last night in the rain.a police car went by. then another, or maybe it was the same one? then it went by again. slowly. then it stopped and he flashed a light at me and said
do you live here?
i look at my clothes i'm sporting the Judy Jetson flannel pajamas set that is bright as hell pink and fuzzy slippers.
Yes, officer i live here.
what are you doing?
i'm practicing my poetry for a slam on Saturday night.
for a what?
a poetry slam.
what the hell is that?
i explain. he laughs. and drives away.
fucking philistine. dude i am cursing so much today. I slipped in class twice and made fuck, fudge and shit shyite which Will said was still the same word but like in medieval times. Which made me think of Heath Ledger………
who wants to go out tonight!! call me cause well....i'm bored... i swear i am not high maintenance i just require stimulation and you can wrap that one around your head any way you like because that's probably what i mean.....just sayin!
come to the slam this weekend and judge me....you know you wanna!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Sesame Street
so my class wants to do a parody of the sesame street shows of the past the shows that were deemed pg-13 and not suitable for today's preschooler. we've talked about it at length and they have some good ideas. now, make no mistake about it their production will actually be pg-13. i bought the set so they could research what issues they want to address and see if they think the pg-13 rating or the disclaimer before the episode is accurate. i can already see the reason, i still think it's a bit ridiculous but i can tell we are going to have some interesting conversations.
stranger still, i remember this episode brought to you by the numbers 2 and 3 and the letters e, w and s. i was four and remember thinking i wanted to go outside and play. watching the intro which shows the kids playing on jungle gyms, skating, hide and seek and other outdoor activities might be more confusing to today preschoolers or those children who may see this as a radical thing i mean playing outside? where's the plug for the ps2 or game cube.
the anything people are the puppets who chose their identity. whether they want to be a girl or boy. man or woman, blond or brunette... scandalous. we learned that milk comes from cow? what? ernie starts by taking a bath and asking bert to bring him a bar of soap. he instructs bert to drop it (the soap) in his rosey? claims its the name of his tub? bert hangs out while he bathes... then later ernie is drying himself in the company of bert? he doesn't even turn away??...screams domestic partnership or THE GAY..
z is painting and counting to ten with enthusiasm. he's asked for a glass of milk. he's being hypnotised clearly this is an evil tool. i mean i grew up drinking milk and riding my bike without a helmet and never broke a bone? i had a kid fall over last year off of a picnic bench she might have fallen a foot or two, broke her collarbone..milk does an old school body good?
i often hung out with the neighbors to have snacks... gordon has a little girl with him and he explains that she is new to the neighborhood and is introducing her to all the people in the neighborhood. she's not lost or abducted. she meets big bird (who looks a little scary. his eyes to close and he seems a little off), oscar the grouch is orange in the early episodes. then she's alone in a room with two men and a frog...disturbing. cookie monster is eating the letter w and if i'm not mistaken he tries to eat kermit... eating frogs is bad, unless you're french. but now kermit is fighting with the letter w....weird.
i'm going to go guess which thing is not like the other. this blog brought to you by the letters e, s and w and by the numbers 2, 3!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
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