14/30 on politics

14/30 on politics

Abdicate
Acclamation
Affiliation
Apparat
Appointment
Back room
Beadledom
Boodle
Clout
Corruption
Cronyism
Doctrine
Filibuster
Frying the fat
Gerrymandering
Graft
Issue
Jawboning
Jobbery
Junket
King maker
Lame duck
Logrolling
Movement
Nepotism
New broom
Non-candidate
Old guard
Party boss
Party chairman
Party hack
Party line
Pork barrel
Propaganda
Pull
Purge
Reactionary
Smoke-filled room
Smoking gun
Special interest group
Turn
Vote
Whip
Whiplash
Whitewash
Xanadu
Yellow journalism
Zeugma
Zombie

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

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


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

12/30 one lump or two

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

11/30 Going on a Bender

11/30 Going on a Bender

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

10/30 Pickles and Peppermints

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He forgot to float

9/10 chosen (delirium)

9/10 chosen

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

8/30 Waxing and Waning

8/30 Waxing and Waning

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

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

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

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

well, fuck that

and fuck you

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

Where my brothers at?
Where my brothers at?

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

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

because you
would do the same for me
listen that is
right
brother

6/30 unadmitted

6/30 unadmitted


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

what I knew last night
doesn’t matter anymore

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

please don’t tell Theresa

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

what’s left if you’ve done everything

5/30

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

5/30 The House of Bob



there seems to be

no limit to the stupidity

in the actions of those

around me

like tonight

for instance

while it’s true

my sweet tooth

got the best of me

a kind of guilty pleasure

I was not looking to buy anything

other than

that

“Yo, Marley”

Can I just say

that I have heard

this simple minded phrase

hurled at my person

more than I care to share

enough to know

that this phrase

falling from any lips

wagging in my direction

have to be perched on the face

of an asshole

and because I

had an assholepindectomy

years ago

I

don’t have to listen



“Yo, Marley”

am I supposed to be impressed

that you believe that every dread head on the planet

is somehow linked irrevocably

to the lineage of “Marley”

like it’s a race or something



“Yo, Marley”



“Yo, Marley”



“Yo Marley”



“Yo Dick-Head”

when I walk into any establishment

I look at my surroundings

we Marly-ites

we call this being

observant

conscious

and aware

though it may have nothing to do

with the lineage of Marley

could be my Black Panther childhood

my I’m a girl in a world

that forces me to guard my woman

never a back to a door

never not knowing where the exits are



“Yo Dick-head”

was it you pompousness or your ignorance

that made you think

you a stranger could approach me

with over-tones of illegal activity

and did you think I would actually answer

and did you think shouting your intentions

and your pissy-ness at my ignoring you

would escape the presence of the police

cause I didn’t



so if they arrest you

just know

they didn’t do it

because of Marley

they did it

because

you

are

a dumb ass

4/30

4/30 On Last Nights Storm



once upon a time

not too long ago

a storm like this one

would have caused

our skin to ache

an ache only comforted

by the removal of clothes

and the press



I am reminded of one of our storms

we made love outside

neighbors be dammed

patio furniture

becoming accustomed

with new ways to be useful

bare asses to the world

we’d outgrown our closets

long ago



the misting of skin

the rains attempt

to keep our own flames

under control



waking spent

in your arms

memories

turning me

ocean



later

there will be

an argument

one I won’t

participate in cause

I don’t fight

anymore

we will part

with hurt feelings

and

words

we will regret



but this storm

tonight

doesn’t make me

focus on the fight

just the wind,

the lightning

the thunder

whispered I love you’s

pushed from arched backs

hands on flesh

how the feel of this storm

and the thought of you

still turns me



ocean



I wonder if you are watching

am I on your mind

3/30

3/30 Play Date

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



you speak in code

tied tongue

dressed in ridiculous

the hoops you’ve designed

for me to jump through don’t exist

or

maybe they do

you just move them to fast

for me and my colorful Chucks

to leap over or around



could be

you don’t want to be caught

just caught up

in a chase

where you roadrunner me into insanity

and if I wasn’t crazy already

it could work

your fake manhole covers

bombs made by ACME

could knock me off some

unforeseen trajectory

could train wreck partner me

back to my sensibilities

maybe I’d finally fall for you



but we seem to love this game

of duck -duck goosed

and sometime I let you catch me

sometime I almost catch you

unless I’m distracted

by the other pretty faces in the room

but even when that happens I come back

and so do you



all that to say

that the hickie

on the side of my face?

was Bad form!

I had to insinuate a lie

now I fear my friends think I have a tumor

at least I had the decency

to put the smiley face hickie

where it could be cover in jeans

so no one would think you

were making out with WAL-MART



so

maybe

we should consider some rules

for this game of

we-don’t-know-each-other

and-don’t-do-what-we-do

when-we-do-it

this catch and release

hid-and-go-get-it



but

we were never really good at rules

with our tendency to seek them out

and break them proper

we should adopt ,however,

the tropics rule

so, imagine your belly button is the Equator

the curve of your shoulder The Tropic of Cancer

the dimple behind your left knee The Tropic of Capricorn

fair game between the tropics (wink, wink)



and I know sometimes

we are all quickie rushed

and may not know which way were going

and this is why

I’ve taken to wearing

a compass around my neck

of course the directions change

depending on the path we chose to follow



but

for now

stop playing

and tell me where you hid my keys and my bra

and tell me in the language I understand

2/30

2/30 Incendiary



they don’t understand

how much their words scorch

don’t believe in back flash

think they resistant to the flames

they fan at each other



their harsh words

once real turn

ghost

haunting

unruly poltergeists

they trips on excuses

their apologies turn twist of knife

the once bullied

turned bully

not wielding fists or feet

but shrapnel tongues

that seek to destroy

self-esteem



your words have power

I shout

I lecture



they pretend not to hear



I mantra the phrases so much

they may as well be tattooed on my skin

purpled

bruised by their

hair trigger syllables



but



they have their own agenda

this rite of passage

they created

just for them



the only indication

that they feel the power of words

is when I watch them

slap at the flames

threatening their own soft skin

their milk teeth

they only know the moment

not the consequence





those will come later

1/30

1/30



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



I wanna start by saying thank you

I know to show appreciation

for those who do so much for me

in the ways of marginalizing

and compartmentalizing

my issues

so much better than I do my own

if not for you

I might be confused about my station

now mind you

those who believe me to have excess

and those who see me lacking

ou are both right to some degree

you are also both speaking at the same time

and I realize

that while I may not know my finances

you have faith in my ability to multi-task

faith

it’s nice



isn’t it



to the first

I am so glad you keep up with the news

take stock in cash prizes

and have figured out where mine should go

fuck a bill I

should do what you want me too

cause well you know the true lay of my land

know my topography far better than me

and know that if we excavate

right

here

my son won’t need new shoes

and the bills will pay themselves

cause that first syllable “PO” in poetry

can’t sound like paycheck to paycheck poverty

since it sounds so pretty

and the shine is blinding



and to the second

I know you saw the haggard in my steps

Shit

it must of looked like I worked all day

looked like I’m in need of helping hands

not my own

looked like I don’t know hustle and pull

like I can’t stretch my dollars

into healthy meals for hungry mouths

my story plastered on my

no name brand wardrobe

hell

my nails ain’t even did

I can see the way you see it,

saw it,

knew it,

and placed your ignorance on my time

I mean I know your heart is in the right place

Dammit

bit on my tongue

while it was stuck in my cheek



you think you know me

you don’t

you should know me

you weren’t paying attention





so, pay attention

I could Hallmark my way into mediocrity

form my tongue to fit your narrow-minded views

but my body rejects your intentions

your Lilliputian views don’t fit my own

and the fatuous delivery of your inclinations

make me wonder who’s doing who a favor

and should I laugh?



just so you know



I am fully aware of my capabilities

what monies I have or not



so kindly kiss my ass

and back the fuck off



and if you need a translation

understand I don’t take EBT or gossip

just the cash please

just the fucking cash!

The L Word (part two)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a lovely!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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.”

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

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!!!!

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!!

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.

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

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.

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;-)

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

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

Rising Appalachia: Scale Down

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

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

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

Theresa Davis performing "Hood" @ Coffee Undergrounds Greenville, SC

Number 1b Haiku

The way I feel between heartbeats

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

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

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=

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.

Make your voice heard

Make your voice heard

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?

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

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.

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

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

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;-)

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..

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.

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

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

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!

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

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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??