Coretta Scott King

An American Hero.... RIP.

"Many despair at all the evil and unrest and disorder in the world today but I see a new social order and I see the dawn of a new day." Coretta Scott King

This morning, thru sleep, I ironed a pair of pants in an effort to dash out of the door to get to work as the news anchor announced "Mrs. Coretta Scott King died in her sleep while recieivng alternative treatment at a clinic in Mexico." Immediately, I was hurt. One, because the news media has been broadcasting the "rift" between her children regarding the control and oversight of Dr. King's Memorial and two, some how I believed Reverend Brother"man" Al Sharpton will somehow utilize her death as a means of promoting his own manipulative agenda. While, I have my own ideas regarding the Civil Rights Movement and those persons who recieved credit for various activities.... Her quiet dignity and perserverance cannot be ignored.

(S)he

She's never been told that she was ugly. It has always been the look. The twice over glance, the once over the shoulder. She catches them off guard. She is an arrival at the exact moment. A departure moments too soon. She's beautiful and doesn't know it. Her insecurities mask the pain that she endures daily. Often hoping to catch a glimpse of her self passing by.... Her silent confidence betrays her.. Causes others to whisper. Her quiet arrogance, oft not believing she's better than others, just all knowing... Selflessly aware of her presence and the consequences of such.. Her frailties, her inadequacies glaring and blinding her, leading her toward the path of abandoned destruction. As they see, only what they want to see . Like the others, they never truly see her. They see the reflection of their judgment mirrored in the coffee brown of her eyes... A bottlomless view toward self assessed discovery. She's beautiful and doesn't know it. Whispers and jeers from others hurt, scathe. The androgynous mystic of her core, is what attracts them to her... Charming, chivalrous, mannerable flirtatious, unattainable, unapproachable to both sexes, yet they are truly baffled by her magnetism. They are drawn to her, like the illusive riches that lie just past the rainbow. Life riches, or so it seems.... Only to find she is emotionally bankrupt and morally discharged. Desperation of her voice wanting only, that which she craves... An equal.... She's beautiful and doesn't know it. She doesn't know why they fear their curiosity and place the blame upon her. Her sexuality and intimacy are just that, hers... There are no overt or covert gestures to suggest otherwise, yet they balk at her incessant pleas to be left alone or feign hurt when passively ignored..She... Prefers the companionship of solitude and aloneness... Never being faithful to either lover, but loving them just the same, as they satisfy her cardinal natures and desires. She will never understand the pointless need for them to speak in shadows that seemingly scream. She's beautiful but doesn't know it. Scrapped knees, crooked teeth, skin and bones. Dresses fall off corners of frail shoulders. Slight tears and small rips from playing too hard. She plays hard to forget. Pulls hair in tight pony tail, no bangs, no big fru-fru curls. Her father is her hero. She emulates him, not because she's tomboyish, but because he's her only parent. Girly things need mothers, there are no mothers, only great-grand and grand.. She remembers in 3rd grade boy yells, "Your mother is old." She cries. She cries. She cries. She's beautiful but doesn't know it... They have always liked her. Wanted to be her friend. They have always loved her. Wanted to be near her. Felt the need to fill her voids. They love her hair. Her coy smile. The insecure gap in her walk. They say, "she looks like she needs to be taken care of..." And they try. They leave hurt. She doesn't understand. Nor do they. She will never recognize her beauty, nor will she understand their need to blame her for it....

Hosting, Balancing and Feedback.....

I have been hosting now for nearly a month, having two open mics under my belt and one slam. What I've learned so far:
1 - i really should have thought about it before i took the job on.
2 - no matter how much you run, there will always be that one person who feels the need to constantly remind you that they are in the room and have not read, or must read next, etc.
3 - you cannot enjoy a meal, even if you arrive 1 hour prior to the show start.. see number 2.
4 - you cannot make a person hot no matter who you sandwich them between.
5 - someone always wants to read twice, even when you say there is no more room or not enough time.
6 - it's better not to carry the list with you so that people don't constantly look over your shoulder. see number 2.
7 - do something nice weekly for element 615 'cuz he will save your ass each and every time.
8 - i really should have thought about it before i took the job on.
9 - no matter what you do, how you do it, someone is going to think that you did something wrong.

Ainsley was an incredible feature. Twain was hot as always. I absolutely love both men's poetry and style. And Twain is absolutely adorable. I miss Jai Byrd already and it hasn't been a month. Mike Guinn was OH MY GOSH.. his new piece is unbelievable.. so glad he stopped thru. see everyone on wednesday... i am working on making the show better, stronger, faster,... (borrowed from the six million dllar man).. holla...

a joyride on a tight rope

Am sitting here, listening to Joyride (Mariah Carey)... Feeling anxious, feeling lonely, feeling loved, feeling unloved, under appreciated, taken for granted... Well, just feeling. Am not sure where to start. The music... Excellent.. Not sure what she's saying, the blend of her voice, the music, mesmerizing, putting me in a zone. A place. I am excited about the new year, the possibilities, however, I am so fearful. I have an opportunity to start over. I mean REALLY START FRESH... And it is so freaking difficult, because I KNOW I am going to have to leave somethings, some people, behind. It hurts tremendously. In this moment I am reminded of a tight rope... One that is stretched past it's strength, it is at a breaking point, others, for selfish reasons are unable to see the weakened spot in the rope .. Or worse, they don't care.. People are selfish and self-seeking. Rule number one. Why do I continue to allow anyone to get close to me and forget that rule is unbeknownst to me. Perhaps in my incessant need to feel slightly uncomfortable in all situations, I continue to operate as if this is not true. That often it is those "who love me so much" that contribute to the highest level of pain and discomfort I could feel at any given moment. Yet, I work daily at waking up and being available to them, because everything in me wants to run. I am totally uncomfortable in others comfort, somehow I always seem to be making the adjustment, with few meeting me where I am. Some one told me I wasn't really a loner. That I wanted to believe I was. My response was "I can show you better than I can tell you." The truth of the matter is no one really knows me. They'd like to think they do. They'd like to think that they could predict how I will respond to a situation. What I like. What I dislike. However EVERYONE continues to ignore this one simple statement "I talk out of discomfort." Which means I may say ANYTHING, unless you ask me a direct question. Even then you may or may not get a direct answer.
What are you to do when the things that you love, that you believe are good to you and for you are those things that are the most destructive? That everything you believed you wanted is about to become or now is a reality and you realize that perhaps it's in fact, another thing you fooled yourself into believing you actually wanted it? I hate doing anything I'm not good at. And when it's pointed out to me, I have only one response: QUIT. Especially when there is no solution offered, or I am given promises on how it can be better one day. Some future moment.
So today, I am a tightly wound rope, living on the edge of my breaking point. And I cannot take another thing. Cannot put another item on my plate. I crave SIMPLICITY and for whatever reason... Perhaps the sun, the phase of the moon, placement of some planet, it is not what I am getting. Instead I get this practical joke daily.... It's called my life on life's terms and the direct consequences of my poor choices. And while I am eternally grateful that I was given the breath of life, that I was allowed another day... I pray for the strength and fortitude to walk away from those things that are no longer healthy and have no added value in my life. In all I do, all I encounter, all I interact with, I will ask one simple question, "How is this/are you adding value to me and my life?" Because if I don't take control of my life, I am destined to make the same mistakes..... Something I can no longer afford.

Letters to Daddy

I, like most independent woman who live alone, check my mail infrequently. I do so mostly because I spend and live well beyond my means and do not like to meet or greet my day or evening with bills. It's too damn depressing... This morning I went to the mail box, sorted thru the bills, to find three netflix dvds and my birthday present from my dad. My dad has a birthday tradition. I receive annually a birthday card with a twenty dollar postal money order, in addition to an item I discussed in passing or what every daughter loves, cold hard cash. This year I was greeted with gifts that momentarily left me speechless with tears of joy.. Gifts that as I write this blog, I become misty.... He sent me two letters, letters that I'd written him when I was nine and ten. The delicately faded and worn envelopes and paper shook with the trembling of my hands as I fought back emotions to open and read each. One was a letter thanking him for a radio I received as a Christmas gift. The other discussing my family's move to a new house. I was not only precocious, but a little adult. The language I used for my age was, well, considering the time, well beyond my years.... I cried as I called him on the phone to thank him. He, smiled thru the phone and I could hear his personal acknowledgement that he'd gotten the response he was looking for.. Yet a bit surprised by his own emotion.. "Yes, KD, I've thrown away letters from old girl friends, ex-wives, army buddies, but I always kept yours. They have meant a lot to me. Believe or not I have more. I just don't want to give them all to you right now. I kind of knew you'd appreciate this." "Dad.. I do. Thanks. Now I know how you got all those women to fall for you and forgive you when you were messing up. You are considerably smooth." We both laugh.... "I love you Dad." "I love you, too KD."
I remember how I used to wait for my dad after every holiday. My great-grand demanded that he and my pops allowed us to have holidays together with her before we went our separate ways. I remember how I use to wait for him each summer, after the required month my sister and I spent together before embarking on our vacations with our dad and extended family. My dad would often cry when it was time to take me back home. I was the only connection he had to a woman who, to this day, causes his eyes to swell with tears, before he says, "...Well, uh, your momma had a way about her."
Daddy... I love you.. Thanks for making me feel like that little girl who knows that you will always be her hero..

Well Alrighty Thennnn

Way to Go...... thir13teen

Happy WAY TO FCKING GO MAN DAY!
It is an official paid day off. Your check is in the mail.... I created this holiday on my calendar. Somebody has to tell some damn body they are doing a good job. Including the little BLOG SKIN BUILDER WHO HAS MY BLOG JACKED THE FCK UP... Way to go!!!! On another positive note. But if I meet you little MR. or MS. Mamafai oh do we have a lot to discuss. While I know nothing is truly free, don't you get the jest of it...
Now. What did I accomplish? Well we all know it's not letting go for damn sure...Absolutely nothing, at least in this moment. But if I don't give myself a shot out, a pat on the back, who else will? So way to way to go thir13teen! Naw. I will launch a new blog later today thanks to Aelee. Way to fcking go day mannnn...... I read her poetry this am.. When I was suppose to be doing something, like, uh working... And I loved it. Reminded me of undergrad.... I do have a double major, English being one of them.... I know.. I know.. Who's English right? Anyway... I want to post nothing but poetry on another one... On another note.. Welcome aboard Jai Byrd.. The sister finally got a blog site.. Way to fcking go mannnn.... I linked her, so the rest of you better or ELSE.. bRandi will kick your ass. I am selling the tickets.. HA! I thought this little girl was sooooo cute. She will be my virtual baby. Her name is _____________. Send me your suggestions. I will be scheduling a Baby Shower real soon. I, I mean she wants ADULT ELECTRONIC GIFTS.

Off to work I go....

Ever met one of those people. You know the ones.. Come on look at the picture. The mudafcker that got on.... Come on.... You know what the hell I'm talking about. The woman who gossips. That dude that chews with his mouth open. The one if they say another fcking word you'd be all over them like a ... well right now all of my descriptives would be offensive and politically incorrect... someone who you wished you could snatch breaths from... The one who got on your last nerve. Well these are my last nerves... Well, not actually mine, but someone's.. And a hell of a lot of people and things are getting on them right about now. INCLUDING THE BLOG SKIN CREATOR THAT HAS MY BLOG LOOKING LIKE SOMETHING OUT AND OFF OF WALMART'S CLEARANCE SECTION!!! But my ass will keep laughing until I cry. Or until I can hire someone to kick some asses for me. Any applications? NEO Soul tomorrow. thank g.o.d.

NOTE: I AM NOT IN A BAD MOOD... AND NO MO.. YOU DON'T HAVE TO COME DOWN HERE AND KICK SOMEONE'S ASS!!! DANG!

Ria wrote a poem about it.... FCK YOU!

Noticed the big X at the top of my blog? I have. Just hadn't had the time to vent about it. The baby picture is for the creator of the blogskin itself. When something says free and it's not copywritten how can you become angry if someone uses it. Hell, I only made it look better. "Wake up and smell the coffee" what kind of blog title is that? Do you think a person with any creativity would use that stupid bullshyt? As my gurl whitney says, "Hell to da naw!" I made the suggested changes placed in your comment section. I revised a blog skin which was nearly two friggin years old. You ungrateful blog builder you... So coffee lovers, I am awaiting my man Art to finish my personalized blog skin. For now, we will look at the X at the top of the page and imagine it to be something beautiful, like a field of flowers.. Ohh and I almost forgot this one.... Is it my fault that I am not so good with these things that i erased your name. Look Mamafai who ever the hell you are. Look I gave you YOUR CREDIT... Got directions from someone who knew what the hell they were doing. Next time give better fcking directions. Your stoopid ass had both of us lost. Hell if we'd been in school we both would've gotten an F... You for not knowing any better and me for copying.... Thanks you and good fcking night.......

still clebrating...

The itis.... I had, what was suppose to be... Again my last piece of meat. Pork Loin to be exact. I cannot help it. Ever meet one of those "cats" that can just cook? Every since I was embraced by the Mason Clan (The Pecans and Elm) I have been slowly gaining weight. I mean, not too noticeable, but my stomach no longer has that elasticity it once had.. kind of hangs over on my once baggy jeans. And the baby doll tees i once sported last summer, early fall, look like doll's clothing on my tail... I'm not saying I'm fat.. Just fatish.. I'm just saying I could keep someone warm... Could be on my way to chubby, or thick. One biscuit away to be exact. ... Well, my celluloid is giving a shot out to Robert. That man can cook. He made me one hellova birthday dinner. I could not have asked for more... And yes, I wanted to sleep immediately after the meal, but I managed to stay awake and watch Anger Management. The laughter kept me slightly awake. Only to go home and watch, yes, you guessed it the Boondocks. Who had, you watched it.. The Itis episode.. Man did I feel guilty watching something that some hilariously true....... Special shot out to the birthday planner.. It got better and better and better........

My Ass Is Old... Or A Year Younger

Yesterday was my birthday. On most levels it was cool. I was awaken with one of the best surprises in the world. I did poetry for little kids which was, pretty fcking amazing. I would love to do it again. Pretty intimate evening.. Though my childishness would not allow me to appreciate and enjoy it.
In undergrad I used to go to every bar and restaurant I could find in an effort to get free drinks and food. By the early afternoon I was drunk off my ass.. But I continued to drink... I never got alcohol poisoning, nor did I throw up or pass out. It was mostly fun.. Or so I thought.
So today I was thinking (and it did make my head hurt), that I was getting a bit older and while I do appreciate that GOD blessed me with "good" skin and features (black never cracks BABEE)... I became afraid as I looked at the wrinkles in my hand. How my eyes are getting a little lighter. I don't always heal as quickly. How despite the fact that I am in touch with today's music, it often makes my head hurt. I talk about the old days. I want to settle. Make a home with someone special, who loves me good, bad or indifferent. Doesn't care that the gray hairs are sprouting thru my locks, and well, a few other places, like my legs, and those darn old lady chin whiskers... I think about my mom, who didn't want to continue to read her book nor pen her story and gave up much too soon. My great-grand who told and lived her story thru dips of levi garrett snuff. A great-aunt who did nothing more than drink orange crush and smoke viceroys, her story ended a few chapters too soon. My favorite aunt who lived her life thru prose... It was an adventure til the very end. And of course... My grand.. Who told a profound story of love and lost. A damn fine read 'til the very end... And I, I am the voice of the village. Happy Birthday to US.. as you continue to live thru me.....

they asked me for my autograph..

i have the shape of my mother's eyes, height, sharp tongue and insatiable thirst for love..
she would say I wore his swagger like a tight sweater, had the tendency to be voiceless braggart..
his simple air of arrogance hidden behind feigned innocence.
he, both dads would look at me, and see
the only woman who loved them completely, they would never see me..
yet she would say I had the need to cling, and love as hard as he,
and in relationships..
she'd say, baby-girl, take it so, don't fall in love so quickly,
but he both dads would look and me,
the love of their lives, they would never see me...
but none of that matters, and i'll tell you why.
excerpt from inheritance. kdtaylor 2006 all rights reserved
section 8 coffee publications...

Today, I went to Winn Elementary School and did a show with a few poets and a poet/martial artist. It was a very humbling, yet truly gratifying experience. It was also somewhat painful as I caught a glimpse of myself in the audience. A knowledge starved, yet bored nine year old, waiting to be freed from... well, just freed from these things that haunted me. Things that continue to haunt. When I was in the fourth grade, ms. fleming handed me a pencil and a notebook, and asked me to write about the things, the stories I was so willing to share with others. in my discomfort, i talked. a habit that exists to this day. (i really don't like to talk, i just don't want to think or remember) and i talked about everything, often entertaining my friends, but mostly myself in an effort to escape. she believed i had a gift to share with the world. well, i am unsure of the world, but i am willing ot share it with a small portion of it. and today i did that. i got to entertain kindergarten thru the fifth grade. it was absofckingmazing... it really was. and i gave a shot out to the kids who got U's. unsatisfactory for talking too much, for dreaming, for being themselves... and uh. no it did not go over well with some teachers, but the better ones knew, like i told the kids you have to get your story out. and you know what? it brought a smile not just to my heart, but upon their faces.... especially as they asked me for my autograph, and what i wished i had done, was ask them for theirs.....

Holidays.. and my gosh February at Neo Soul

HAPPY CONFEDERATES SOLDIERS DAY!

IT'S A STATE HOLIDAY. I HAVE THE DAY OFF..

Well. Not really. I opted to work, like I do on Juneteenth. There is some historical significance in both. I just chose not to recognize either. I have some work to do, and I can get some writing out of the way......

Yes, I have been writing. I am in the process of memorization and recitation. In other words I have been practicing for my features. So far four offers for February, one was conflict, so I had to turn it down. This month has been a blur with many blessings.. Almost as if I am looking thru the rear view mirror of a luxury car. A luxury car, because the ride is so much better than the hooptie I rode in a few weeks ago. I am in a better place. I am a lot more comfortable with myself and surroundings. I have been writing new shyt. Cousin and I are working on a collaboration for the February shows. Jai Byrd and I are working on a little sumpin' sumpin'. I am getting my material together finally for a cd and maybe a chap book. My arrogance wants a barcode... Some how I keep missing the message that you have to crawl before you can run. February is going to be a hot ass month at Neo-Soul, and thank the GODS and the Heavens, all creatures that flow and grow... Last night Funky Mike hand delivered my birthday, christmas, kwanza, valentine's day, labor day, confederate soldiers day, st patrick's day, columbus day, (you get the jest right?) present. WORD MEDICINE, a live EP. To add icing on the cake, The Queen of King County http://www.christabellonline.com/ will be featuring at our spot in February. I have been, well, I am, well, speechless. As I have been waiting and anticipating the moment to catch her, uninterrupted, with no score cards, no three minute and five second performances, no time penalties, just her performance and words back to back to back. In addition, Kevin Sandbloom http://kevinsandbloom.com/ will also be returning in February. Click on the Hustle and Neo Soul link to get additional information.

Here are a few verses from my current piece.. hope you like it.. It's entitled:

Not Another

.......the hollowed noise of
betrayed desire
resounding in the darkened
shadows of her existence.
buried beneath
pained recollections
jagged memories,
and criss crossed vows
that intersect
somewhere between
parallel tomorrows
and future moments
that would never come to pass.
words which took her no place,
like endless winding roads
lined with dead oak trees
with desperate souls hanging
by yellow ribbons
swinging in the empty space.
strange passion the wild fruit
that grows in meadows of forget me nots,
and fields of four o'clocks,
opening only when scheduled
like the legs of the whore
she once believed she was.
kdtaylor 2006

section 8 coffee publications

all rights reserved

To Boon or not to Dock.. That is the ?

To Boon or not to Dock.. That is the ?

I guess there is a reason I don't have children. As a child I was precocious, curious, seemingly intelligent, deliberate in speech and behavior, as well as outspoken. Am unsure if this was a result of DNA or environment. I believe these characteristics are for the most part healthy. Sure, there were some subjects I was not to broach, and when I did, I knew when to whisper or be boisterous.

I had the opportunity to watch "The Return of the King" this past Sunday's episode of The Boondocks. I don't have to be convinced that Aaron McGruder, the creator of this EDITORIAL, let's not be insulting and call it by any other name, is arguably one of the most intelligent Black Men in America, it not one of the most intelligent MEN in the World. The method in which he brings the black community's state and concerns to the forefront are uncanny and unparalleled. Which brings me to my next point. Let's bridge..

I have friends who, by all accounts, will not allow their teenagers to watch the show, but will allow them to listen to Wrap music. Yes, I spelled it with a w on purpose. Wrapped, as the most popular songs wrap us in ignorance. And I am guilty of it as well, as I love that damn Whistle Song. When asked, each responded with, "Well, the content is too strong. N%gga this, n%gga that. It's an adult cartoon, that's why it's on adult swim." My thought is this, they put parental warnings and suggestions on cds and dvds, and parents allow them to watch and listen to that crap. And the video games, don't get me started. With one child I had a special interest. I have been guilty of allowing him to watch the show. We enjoyed it, had an opportunity to discuss the subject matter, while cracking adolescent jokes. However, he, being the type of child described earlier, got the message.

Last night, while I watched the final three minutes or so of The Boondocks. I thought of him, and was again reminded of how important the message was. When the cartoon character deplicting MLK Jr described and defined "Nigga." I wanted to stand up, clap, run naked around the room, screaming at the top of my lungs, echoing the sentiment.... Well, a few drinks will also prompt this behavior.. I digress... It was profound. The images of the MLK Jr. character attending the MTV Awards Show presenting with Puffy, was, I hate to say it, all too true if the man were alive today. And ohh, don't get me started on the Grandpa Freeman and Rosa Parks scene... I applaud anyone who is willing to say there were MANY MEN AND WOMEN who contributed to that moment in history... Including a teenage girl, who by all accounts was not given credit for her contribution because she was an unwed mother who did not fit the profile... Again I digress.

While I respect my friends opinions and requests, it is difficult for me not to view them differently. I question why would you allow your_____________ (fill in the blank) to prevent you from allowing your children to truly see the world. The Boondocks are just another way of viewing our world, and while it is not rose colored, I truly appreciate it's ability to challenge my view. It's the mind that often prevents us from seeing clearly. Sometimes, as a people, we allow our own biases, fears, and desire to assimulate define us. We often take it a step further by wanting to shield our children from things they are probably already aware of. And could probably give you more information than you would want from various subjects. I recall a conversation a male friend had with his daughter about sex. He was too thru... Weekly I truly thank the commentary of the characters, gives me something to talk about the next day at work, gives me something to think about. So this week I say thanks Huey...

Onto a more unintelligent note.... Priceless moments from American Idol: "The proof's in the paper!" "I want to talk to you about your tan." "Are we going to have a bigger stage." "I'll let him go on to Hollywood, because when you get there he's going to cut you." "You should shave your facial hair and put on a dress." And the Patti sequel was, well, let's say it had me running....

you can't miss what you don't use

Sign Inside Women's Restroom Reads:

Due to maintenence, hot water will not be available in Building 4 for the remainder of the day.

me: like they would know.. they'd never miss it... they never wash their damn hands anyway.

the ink is black. the page is white. together we learn to...

Overheard on News 8 Austin:

Anchor woman: A recent poll reports that Blacks are most likely to celebrate the Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday.....

In celebration of Martin Luther King Jr. Day....

We've come a long way baby. Or have we?

thanks funky mike for the cartoon...

My Life..... My Poem...... (Inspired by an advertisement)

My Name: Kimberley Dianne.... Thir13Teen.... live miK

Childhood Ambitions: To become an attorney

First Job: Life Guard - WaterPark USA.

Last Purchase: Bosc Pears, Oranges and California/Hawaiian Trailmix

Indulgence: Blue Bell Ice Cream: Dos Amigos. Cookies!Cookies! Cookies! Brownie Nut Fudge. All at one time.

Fondest Memory: De'anaya and I (both) breaking the 100 meter hurdle record at Northeast Stadium with me finishing second by an inth of a second 'cuz her breasts were larger. The record still stands.

Soundtrack: Stevie Wonder

Retreat: Neo-Soul

Wildest Dream: Becoming a reality daily...

Proudest Moment: Too many to name..

Biggest Challenge: Refraining from expressing my opinion...

Alarm Clock: God

Perfect Day: Filled with good friends, good food, good liquor, good conversation and good poetry.

Favorite Movie: If I had to pick one... The Way We Were

Inspiration: God's presence thru her love

My Poem: The Idea of Ancestry.. Etheridge Knight

tag..
mo
cousin
copa
brandy
relentle
'chelle

From Bklyn to the ATX... yes, women can be friends...

I received a call yesterday afternoon... It was in a hustle, hurried, attempting to get across town during the busiest hours of the day. Austin, the city I currently call home was built on a north-south grid. There is, for the most part, one way in and one way out of the city. IH-35. You can only go North and South. For the most part, practically every highway, byway, city street, farmer to market road, etc. could possibly begin, east to west, but will eventually end up, North or South. Really... To top it off, rush hour, as a direct result of the North American Free Trade Agreement, again IH 35, is the most direct route from North Texas to South Texas onto our neighbors along the southern Border, Mexico. This creates a south bound rush hour that lasts from 3:00 pm - 7:00 pm. Please don't let there be an accident. And let's not talk about the "upper and lower" decks. Navigating the streets south can make you want to slit your wrists, especially if you don't know where you are going. Love can be a bitch, I swore I would never date, talk to, or enter an agreement with ANYONE who lived south of 183. Now, not only am I deeply involved with someone who works and lives a GAZILLION MILES (actually less than 15 miles) from 183, I also work past 183. Huhhh...
My ring tones are set for different folk. I hear my phone calling out Brooklyn. And that could only be ONE PERSON. Meliaceae. MO BROWNE. My sister-mentor-friend. It's refreshing. My goofy ass starts gushing immediately cause I had been waiting to tell her all about the previous night. She has been pushing me for a minute on anything and everything poetry. Now what makes Mo so damn special? Is it her winning personality? Is it her ability to use terms like "kicking rocks, being janky, or I can't stand yo azz?" Her ability to make and brake a negro at the drop of a hat? Maybe.. cuz all of that is funny and on point each and every time I hear and see it for myself. But what is truly magnificent about this woman, who, by years is bit younger than me, is the gifts she has given me. First she schools me about the "crouching tiger-hidden dragon" thang as it relates to female poets. Not has she done that, but has shown and taught me valuable lessons on being a woman, a female (and there is a difference) a poet, a writer, and now host. She has taught me that women who have similar interests can take an interest in other women without feeling threatened. I have passed what she has taught me in action and theory with "cousin"... who is now, doing the same damn thang with another female poet/friend. So when her call came thru yesterday, it felt good to talk to her, and to hear and see her baby-gaped beautifully contagious smile thru our Nextel/Sprint cellular towers.... And the warmth in knowing that she, as with Langston and ELM, knew just how much their opinions, suggestions and feedback mattered to me. There have been some remarkable gifts granted to me during 2005. She was only one, but she was the one who set the stage and made it possible for me to truly have faith in other women and sisterhood. To know that we can network, negotiate, hustle, stay on the grind, truly be friends and never have to use a fingernail or unkind word against another woman to get what we want. And what we need. At some point today she will read this, smile and say under her breath "word. now dat's what's up." yea.. Mo.. my sister-mentor-friend... "dat's dope, and dat's what's up." P.S. Please tell your Yemeyah that we are countin' dem days down. gotta kick some rocks.. holla.......

It's a good day...

it's friday the 13th for thir13teen....

ohh.. and for good measures.. me and the woman... the myth... the legend...

mobrowne and live miK

look at that tan!!

Girl.. Why R U SO GREASY?

Moms and my village.... Trees.... Window panes.... Last night I think I did it. I think I made us proud. The show seemed, appeared, I pray, hope was a success. I pray that all who graced the mic felt the warmth in my heart, the energy that came from those from whence I obtain strength, wisdom and courage. Ainsley was magnificent. The crowd.. receptive. Damn, I have never felt so good. Well, I have, but you get the jest.. right? I am praying alot right now.... Thanks guys for your support. I could have never done any of this without you... I am learning this thru love, patience, god and my elm... Wow... I am speechless. Excited. Looking forward to the future. Now don't get me wrong a few got on my last nerve.. wanting to go up twice, wanting to go up early.. but Mom.. Village.. Trees.. Windows... I believed I handled it the way you would have wanted... graciously.... And Relentle... I threw up the tri-angle for you my brother.... u were missed.....

THE MOMENT HAS ARRIVED....

11 January 2006.....Neo Soul Lounge..... Hosted by Thir13teen

First of all I'd like to say good evening and we're so pleased that so many of you could come out and share in all the love and all the happiness we have in store for you. We want you to have a real good time 'cause that's just what we have in mind. Is that alright with you? ... Tonight is the night. That you make me a woman, mmm... You said you'll be gentle with me. And I-I hope you will, mmm.... I'm nervous and I'm tremblin' waitin' or you..... I'm tryin' hard to relax. But I just can't keep still....

Tonight Is The Night....as borrowed by Ms. Betty Wright.

The Flava of Love

last night....

seven year old niece: aunt kimmie, i want to eat Chinese food. can we go to a buffet?
me: okay. where do you want to go?
seven year old niece: remember when we went to sally's that day? the last time you were here and you were making fun of the people. remember when you asked my mommy why did that lady let the wind style her hair?
me: (the things they remember) yes.
seven year old niece: well, it's over there.
me: okay.

after a ten minute drive we arrive at the restaurant. we are seated, order drinks and as i glance thru the menu I realize...

me: nique, i thought you said this was a buffet?
seven year old niece: well, i thought it was. that's what the sign says. (Pointing at the Chinese writing on the wall.)
me: oh, you read Chinese?
seven year old niece: no, but i know how to say hello in Japanese....
me: have you been here before?
seven year old niece: no, aunt kimmie.
me: you want to try it out?
seven year old niece: no, aunt kimmie.
me: well, do you know where the buffet is?
seven year old niece: no aunt kimmie.

needless to say, i call my sister who laughs, then explains how I shouldn't listen to a seven year old child. what would happen if she were to.. blah blah blah blah blah... we eventually find the other restaurant and have a good meal.

later, after a serious conversation, my sister and i do what we often did as children... sit down and watch a absolutely goofy television show only we understand and laugh our butts off... it even included toasted peanut butter sandwiches and potato chips.

the flava of love... now why did they do a ghetto version of the bachelor, i have the slightest idea. but i'll watch it like anything else that freakishly grotesque, but seemingly appealing... that girl new york is a trip. red oyster is a bigger trip. the only person on the show i believe is genuine is georgia 'cuz her country ass don't know better. hoopz is cute and i have no earthly idea why she's on the show other than trying to jump start another career of sorts... but this has to be my third favorite show of the season.... da boondocks topping it off. the new season of the l-word, and yes, it starts off hellabetter than last fcking season which almost caused me to loose all hope...

oh yea... i go back to the atx tomorrow...

January's September

We sat in warmth, under the fluorescent lights in the breakfast nook of her surburban home. Somehow, it felt unseasonably cold, and dim. Her emotions clouded and weighed the openness in our immediate area. She spoke, and as my eyes moved from her eyes, to cheeks, to mouth, and back toward her eyes, I could clearly see how age and despair would diminish the youth of her skin. She, two years my junior, had allowed the years of her troubled relationship to contribute to wrinkles here and there which caused her to appear older than me. Out of co-dependency, and that sibling connection we shared, the saline in her tears created a thirst I could not seem to quench in that moment. Despite the fact that I had finished my third glass of water, I found myself making my way back to the fridge to perhaps find that final glass which would bring me a glimpse of relief. I knew it was futile, as the relief would only come from an answer which had eluded us since that fateful day in September. The very first time I heard, ".... your sister is all you have. Take care of her. Your mother would want you to take care of each other." September would be the month of significant losses. Four of our five village matrons were lost and buried. September has never really been a good year.

She believed this was to be the prime of her life. Had that home. Had that job. Had those children. Instead, she grappled with the mundanely tragic reality she'd created, all in the name of family. She believed that she had done the "right thing" and that somehow he would see that. That they were made for each other. Everything was so complimentary, even their occupations. That if she lived the right way. Said the right things. Exhibited the right behaviors. That somehow the veil of hypocrisy would dissipate, and that he would see her in a new light. That he would see her growth. I, on the other hand, saw that desperate little girl. The one whom I protected because she would cry if the wind blowed too strongly. The one who's voice was often heard thru mine. The one who's popularity and identity came from being my younger sister. She was all I had. Or so my great grand instilled in us. So I did what I could do until she was strong enough... But this evening as I sit at her table, I realized that she would never be strong enough, and neither would I. We would never be strong enough to face the irony in our reality.

She had children, lived that life, in an effort to ward off the demons, and I, well I rebelled in an effort to forget. And as she spoke, with each word, the bite of her realization stung my core. I had faced my issues, and was okay with the ineffectually, effective manner in which I lived. She, on the other hand, was now reaching her bottom. And no matter how much I wanted to protect her. How much I wanted to hold her hand thru this. No matter how difficult it was for me to swallow the rancidity of her now realized truth, I had to swallow, move forward and wait. Patiently. Having faith that when she was ready, and truly needed my help, she would ask. She was not all I had, anymore than I was all she had. Yet there was truth in my great grand's words. We are the blood, the flesh, the essence of my mother. Like her, we have our demons. Unlike her, we do not have to succumb to them. Yet we continue to follow her path as it relates to love. We love much too hard, much to tightly, with too much passion. Sometimes unable to define ourselves and often losing ourselves in the process.

As she cried, I could see attempts to garner strength to move forward. There were occasional sparks in the brown of her eyes that gave me hope that perhaps she was ready to embark upon her journey. And while, I recognize that my true journey does not have a destination, I pray that her's will lead her to a place where she can find peace and begin a new. And that perhaps as we enter this year's September, there will be a cause to celebrate...

TWO's 'cuz Mo said so....

Names You Go By
- thir13teen
- kim

Two Parts of Your Heritage
- slave and his/her master; or so their history books would want me to believe.


Two Things That Scare You
- dying alone
-living an unfulfilled life.

Two of Your Everyday Essentials
- starbuck's
- cell phone (it's attached to my right hand and ear)


Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now
- flip flops
- her memory


Two of Your Favorite Bands or Musical Artists (at the moment)
- anthony hamilton
- angie stone


Two of Your Favorite Songs (at the moment)
- that fcking whistle song by that suntana chile
- ... we've been too strong for too long, and i can't live without you babe, and i'll be.... oh sorry.


Two Things You Want in a Relationship (other than Real Love)
- mutual trust
- mutual respect

Two Truths
- everyone is selfish and self-seeking and does what is in their best interest EVERY FUCKING TIME... no matter what they say...
- man is born, at his core, evil, and he spends the remainder of his life fighting his true intent.


Two Physical Things that Appeal to You
- smile
- a nice buttocks...


Two of Your Favorite Hobbies
- reality t.v.
- writing


Two Things You Want Really Badly
- re-fiance my house
- lexus 400 SUV, yup they have another one....


Two Places You Want to go on Vacation
- mykonos, greece
- the kimberley-, australia


Two Things You Want to Do Before You Die
- become fearless
- publish a hardback.....


Two Ways that you are stereotypically a Dude/Chick
- change my mind frequently
- totally unfocused


Two Ways you act like the opposite sex
- walk
- think (when i am actually focused)

Two Things You Normally Wouldn't Admit
- i am uncomfortable in crowds, so i talk to feel normal...
- i don't know everything.


Two Things You Are Thinking About Now
- did she write that she farted in her sleep?
- my foot is going numb....


Two Stores You Shop At
- is starbuck's a store?
- target

call out
cousin
b-wine
shelle

Turning the page...... N'troducing....

I read a poem by Alice Walker... relentle
naw...

He is my jazzman, and I, I am his.. butterfly
naw....

Take back time baby, and make it slow... lalove
naw...

Crossed the border and get jailed for dope... b-fran
naw...

They attract to her like tourists, wanting a ride... cousin
naw...

I often go outside and stand in the rain in hopes of disguising my tears... korim
naw...

And I say, fuck your revolution... da'shade
naw...

she is my favorite piece of eye candy... element
naw...

it's poetry time, it's poetry time y'all... the incomprable ms. jai malono
naw

jacarda.... funky mike whalen

mahoganybrownejivepoetictalaamaceyannismarcmarcel
theoriginalwomankevinsandbloomdamississippisoulman
scef2die4interiajusticebabee'janeanelivingston
ajhoustonandyfuckingbuckmikeguinn.........
.......
....................................
..................................
turn the page

neo - soul lounge 01.11.06 thir13teen can't hardly wait

From Austin to Houston to Brooklyn, For Relentless Poet

John 11.35 as recited on 45 South
for Relentle.

I struggled with my cowardice as I stood along the rail.
he said that would make a great line in a poem.
what he didn't know was that daily my conscience fought lifelong battles
that left me battered and bruised.
I am a lonely warrior slaying private dragons
that represent my truths.
nightly I die to shed fears that cannot be conquered.
some say why fight, why resist the inevitable?
they say every ending has a beginning,
so why does my beginning represent my end?
they say Jesus wept
but did he weep for me?
cuz I drowning in pools of lifelong tears
my sunny days give way to rain.
they say Jesus wept,
but did he weep for me
cuz I am choking on the bland existence
of karma or manifest destiny.
but my destiny is hidden behind smoke and mirrors,
carried in the pockets of thieves...
I am the inception of the forgotten,
the lost, the bewildered.
they say Jesus wept,
I wonder if he's weeping for me?
I struggled with my cowardice as I stood along that rail...
he said that would make a great line in a poem.
and I wondered, I wondered if he knew, that despite my pace
I was losing my life's race.
a race against self a race against time.
my time is running backwards
running back toward memories shattered.
like the glass scattered on the highway
that lies ahead of me,
I cannot travel it unscathed.
and I can't get my way,
cuz of the short cuts and byways,
looking for the easier softer way.
I'm like one thought running thru a thousand minds
I am all over the place,
yet I no where
I'm like liquor, I am often on the lips of others
for all the wrong reasons.
that's what he didn't know.
what he didn't know
was I didn't have another poem in me
I didn't have the words to describe the fear
I felt in the moment
the love lost in the past
the faith that I could make another day
and like the cigarette he lit,
I, too, felt packed under pressure
I, too, felt the heat
I, too, felt used
to be discarded, tossed aside
when others were thru…
I was burned ash to disappear in the air...
lost and soon forgotten.
what he didn't know was that I didn't have another poem in me,
I didn't have a song to sing,
couldn't quite find the beat
and my feet were often too damn heavy
to feel the lift in the music to dance
I heard a different rhythm
I had grown deaf searching for the harmony
in it all
when he heard lyrics,
I heard screams
they say Jesus wept,
but did he weep for me
cuz I taste the bitterness of blood,
not the sweet nectar of life
and I spit words of fire
with lackluster desire
'cuz I was a coward
paralyzed by my indignities and frailties
that's what I thought as I stood along that rail,
he thought it would be a great line in a poem
look's like rain
I wonder if God is finally weeping for me?


Baby Boy..... This was the result of a conversation we had that faithful night. How you inspired me... I always believed that I would have the opportunity to clean it up and recite it one night at the spot. Matter of fact, prior to finding out that you were leaving, I pulled it out to work on and memorize for January or February.... You know, I will probably never be able to fully express the depth of emotions and sense of loss I am feeling right now. You know, I... well, you probably know better than anyone.... So glad we made it to the other side. I will see you again.....

Giving Up. Is so hard to do.......

As we stood there. The three of us. The entire time I felt as if it were a scene from a scene I didn't create, nor did I want to star in. I, too had been hurt. And as I looked toward the eyes that met mine, I saw fear, shame, pain, confusion. That crazed desire to return to a time that we knew would never come to pass. The line had been crossed. Some one has to win. Nothing could be done to recover. I'm sorry could never bring back the dignity that was sweep away in one broad stroke. A stroke which was not well thought out, ill planned and timed. Now, some one was going to be hurt. There was no going back. There would be no make up sex which lasts well into the night, leaving each covered in tears and sweat. Now the only tears are those, falling silently between the chasm of emotion which seemingly divided their once perfect union. I could only stare, as it was not my battle. But I knew, there would not be another chance. There would be no more possibilities in tomorrow. I recognized the moment. I onced lived it. Each knew it had finally arrived. No one truly wants to hurt another. Hurt people hurt people. But what do you do when the person you wish to hurt most is one you love and can no longer have. What do you do with that pain? What do you do with that emotion? What do you do with the anger swelling inside you causing involuntary spasms and irregular, erratic behavior? I turned as this was a defining moment for each. The one that would negate all the love they ever shared. As I turned to walk away, I remembered an old Donny Hathaway tune....

Giving up, so hard to do
I've tried
But it just ain't no use
Giving up, so hard to do
I said I've tried
But it just ain't no use
But my light of hope is burning dim
But in my heart I pray
That my love and faith in the girl
My love...will bring her back someday...

but what do you do when the sun is setting on someday?

mindnight - 01.01.06

Ten
Village
Dad and Pops
ELM
Oak
Meliacae
Nine
How'd they talk him into UT instead of Duke?
Pecans
Maple
Fir
Eight
My three paned window.
A certain, youngstar Cutie Pie
Harlem
Camp Wisdom. Yea. I really liked that.
ALL YOURS and ALL U NEED.
Seven
Taalam
Twain
Fcking Alburquerque
Six
Christa Bell
Annis M.
Kevin Sandbloom
Anthony Hamilton
Five
Raheem Devaughn
Good-Bye Relentle...
Jill Scott Concert
Four
Neo-Soul
AIPF
Poets for Relief - katrina and rita
HIP HOP (RIP)
Leela James
Three
Kisses
Hugs
Grand are you still here?
Prayers
Tears
Two
Macaroni and Cheese.
I got to get a new job.
It looks like I am going to make it
I have to go home more.
Deep breath......
One
thank God..... Happy New Year.