The criminal mind!

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


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

him, known from now on as the idiot:

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


notice how he can't spell
classic thug

me:

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


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

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

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

me:

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

idiot:

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


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

Friends

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

OH BUDDY!

He's the soul food

I didn't know I needed

I was starving

and I feasted

and I'm full!

Where the fuck were you last night?

I know where you should have been.

You should have been in that place

where soul stirring

and head bobbing

Were the only things we could do

to keep ourselves in our seats

and the rhythms moved us

and we couldn't dance

but we could bob our heads

and remember our humanity

and remember how to laugh

and how to feel and how

and how

and how

and how could you miss that shit!

Don't do it again!

You have a chance to redeem yourself.

Tonight at Horizons School

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

What more do you want!!!

Tonight 8pm be there or miss out!

This Friday!!!!!!

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

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

ALL FUNDS SUPPORT THE ART AMOK! SLAM TEAM


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

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

TGIF

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

Brussel Sprouts

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

The Java Hut
by Kenneth Slaughter

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

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

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

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

They are here to worship poetry.

A man recites the ground rules
and reads a poem -

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

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

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

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

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

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

The terrible beauty of her poems
wounds me - deeply.

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

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

Rough Weekend!

A work in progress.......


Can You Hear Me?
Theresa Davis 2006

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

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

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

Live from MA

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

I am there for I am, tired!

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

I am listening to ME

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

Come on out

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

intimidating you say

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

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

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

and we all know i am way too old for this

sanity thy name is elusive

Beautiful

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

Karaoke Poetry!

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

Saulutations

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

Holiday

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

wtf

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

Slammed

it's like that recurring dream that you have.
you know the one you're there hanging out looking and feeling ok, then you realize you are not naked, but wearing granny panties and your boobies are on backwards! Maybe that's just my dream...Huh.....anyway, something in the cosmos doesn't want me to slam for the monkey. it's to the point of funny. it's amok, then. my personality is probably more like an elephant drunk off her ass tearing shit up, rather than a monkey hyped on coffee. it was the most interesting slam i've been to so far. i really hope the finalist on both teams make themselves familiar with technique and style because a lot of what i heard would be booed off the stage. i can't remember one poem at individuals or at nationals last year where the word bitch was used in reference to a woman. there were no dick poems or vagina monologues. there was cleaver and rarely did you see paper. i suggest everybody go and see slam outside of Atlanta. it will blow you fucking head off, make you chase it across the street (only kicking it twice), pick it up put it back on you shoulder and raise you levels.
i am enjoying the hell out of this!
two slams in one month and in both people confused by the judges and diggin my words!
some pissed some shouting it's all great....loving this!
i love the randomness and the way the listeners connect...well, when they are actually listening.
i have to pace my social life. i've been denied so long i think i'm still in a buffet state of mind. filling my plate even when i am full and still going back for more. makes for a tired body and a foggy mind. i just have to remind myself that i will not starve......ooh dessert!

Friends

Why is it that I look like I am taking a poop in performance pictures? Friends, please give me a heads up when I am doing this. This picture was taken at IWPS in February. I am either harping on rainbows and butterflies or I really gotta go. I am going to have to start practicing photo poses when performing, so I just look like I gotta pee, not poop!

what to do

* note to reader

I am boycotting punctuation marks not all of them only the ones that I don't have use for today

yes, I am using the comma sometimes cause sometimes I don't have issues with comma and there is an exclamation here or there because I am OK with them most of the time, but the other ones can kiss my ass!

cool place
never been here before
exhausted as hell but relaxed and happy
what a concept
tired, relaxed and happy
no wonder I'm not normal
or am I more normal than even normal can be
boggles the mind doesn't it
I am sure there are rules to what I am doing
but I don't really want to get caught up in that
I just want to flow
another hard concept that people can't mesh with
flowing is nice
my only concern with the current flow is that my writing
has taken on this different feel
I am resisting so I am having trouble accessing my angry space
my comfort zone
it's there I saw it this morning when the head idiot was on TV this morning
I will level off soon
I can't wait for Cliterati tonight
I have about three new pieces and they are all over the place
one is all about leave me the fuck alone and go fuck with someone else
the other is all soft and lovey
the last is the rewrites to choose your weapons and ink
this past week end was amazing!
the show at Charis was awesome
and my jedi mind trick is working just fine
my road trip to Vanderbilt was great
they made me feel all celebrity asking for photos and autographs
I sold books and CD's, and aspiring poets recited to me it was good
then the slam an incredible night of poetry
I drew a two, not good, but I was very pleased with my performance and the response from fellow poets and the like
and a friend
all is good