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;-)