i don't normally do this.. but.

my favorite Austin poet (CHRISTOPHER LEE) did not make the Team. It was heartbreaking.... the woman who is fast becoming my gurl from another world did... And I abandoned my t-shirt and wore a little see thru shirt with form fitting jeans, on Saturday to show her quiet support, I showed "a little cleavage" for VAN CLEAVE... way2go X-men and Christopher Michael (REPEAT). Best part of the night... watching Cousin, jaws dropped, clinging to every word. She doesn't know she is just as good, if not better than some of the writing that hit the stage. I say this not because she calls me her mentor or because she is one of my favorite writers as well... I say this because, I want her, like I want anyone else with dedicated potential to make a true effort to be a part of who and what we are about to become. I say this because she reminds me of a time when me, Brian, KA, Love and Ron would get together and write..... Writing not for anything other than to write (there was no liquor-no smoke-no hanging - just writing!), because if we didn't write and share our idealistic passion and prose we would truly die. Writing not because of inspiration by another writer's style, prose, verse, style or words, writing because.. hell, if we didn't it didn't feel like breathing... I write this because I want her to know that I have all the confidence in the world in her and her abilities... I write this to right the wrong in her which does not allow her to fully grasp who she is with a pen... to remind her that it is and will always be, the passion behind the words that must be conveyed. and while I am not your butterfly, I know that I have a special place in your world. and on this day, I do for you what Mo does for me.... PUSH YOU...... I hope this puts you on blast and pushes you beyond your mental limitations.... And have what I will always have for you, even when you're exhausted and feel you can't write another word, spit another piece, memorize another poem... tell you that you can and you will.... Cousin, pop your collar, it's time to shine... you can and you will.....

heated words
along
easternly breeze;
each syllable
a notch -
knotting
the noose
hanging
from my family tree.
i.
a wilted flower,
dangled
dying.
on branch
of
southern magnolia.

Weekend...

Doesn't she look clownishly happy.. Fck, 13, clowinshly, is that a word, even? I want some red lip stick and some purple sunglasses. I wonder if that would make me look as happy as she does... I think she has lipstick on her teeth. Imagine that's someone's mother, sister or wife.. And I'm kind of dogging her... All on the cool of course. HAHAHA. My week has also been on the cool of sorts... .
I will a list of the top 100 movie quotes to describe my week..
Monday: "...The Terminator knew; he tried to tell us. But I didn't want to hear it. Maybe the future has been written. I don't know; all I know is what the Terminator taught me - never stop fighting. And I never will. The battle has just begun." Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003)
Tuesday - "Do you think that we could find a place where we can meet, not in silence and not in sound?" Children of a Lesser God (1986)
Wednesday - "I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?" Stand By Me (1986)
Thursday - "I'm an average nobody. I get to live the rest of my life like a schnook." Good Fellas (1990)
Friday - "I do wish we could chat longer, but I'm having an old friend for dinner. Bye." The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Funniest thing I heard all week, "You know you're ghetto when you have to come to work and sew down your hair."
Saddest thing I read, a haiku from a poet on Funky Mike's Blog... a poet may die tonight and this maybe his last poem.....
thir13teen

The Lorax, Super Heroes and Tears....

Dr. Seuss has always been my favorite author/philosopher. I even took a trip to Springfield MA, for two reasons. 1) Basketball Hall of Fame and 2) Dr. Seuss museum. The Lorax has always been my favorite story. Conservation is of course important, but as I grew up, it meant (the story-line meant so much more). To me he spoke for things that couldn't speak for themselves. Including me. My childhood didn't afford me the luxuries of believing in the fairytales, like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Superheroes or God. Santa never left those skates under the tree, only that bitchass doll, board games, books, purses and dresses. The Easter Bunny caused me to wear dresses with lace that clawed through my skin like rabid ushers for the dead searching for new life forms in which to whisk back into the depths of hell. Throughout my life, I learned they either didn't exists or just weren't there for me. God, well, he snatched my mom when I was 5, and left both my Dad and Pop, paralyzed with fear, regret and substance until each awoke from their perspective hazes. One before my 7th birthday, the other during my 12th year of confinement upon this earth.
Super heroes were a little different. I believed I fit the description. I was orphaned by tragic circumstances, lived with elderly relatives, was awkward and odd to my peers, and believed my self esteem would improve "only if" (the biggest form of dishonesty, because you are lying to SELF and you actually BELIEVE IT). I believed I needed JUST the right costume, and once found, my powers would reveal themselves. Or I believed that my mom had magical powers and that one day she'd return, and I too, would live in a cave with crystal and be given another chance.... But the power nor she, ever came. Or at least I believed they didn't. Unbeknownst to me, God, my Grand, my Pops and my Dad, gave me remarkable powers I would discover later in life. One night, I watched the Star-bellied Sneetches and other Classic Stories, which was followed by The Lorax. It changed my life.... Really. The Lorax spoke for the trees ( people/things) who couldn't speak for themselves and I vowed to speak for them. I asked my grand what he (The Lorax) was and she explained it to me. I took it as The Lorax was a lawyer, and I ran with it. Immediately speaking and taking up for the under-dog, never knowing that the behavior would make me an underdog in life (ANOTHER STORY. I am often used by others to speak for them, and it contributes to personal difficulty as I look like the trouble maker/rebel rouser). My family teased me and calling me the family attorney as I grew up. Often asking me to research things as I grew up. I knew it was nothing more than to boost my self-esteem adn keep me focused.. I chose my undergradute program, believing it would grant me immediate admission to the Law program upon graduation. My focuses shifted. Actually, I always had a passion for literature and words all my life. I have always been an avid reader.

to be continued....

but I will leave you with this..... Since then God and I have forgiven each other for our individual and combined selfishness.....

thir13teen

Two Daddies Ears (for my Dad and my Pops)

In dream,
I found his ears
in a stark filled pocket
covered
with abandonment and fear...
I was searching for change,
unfamiliar similarities
to buy myself some time;
or at least a small cup of identity.
His resemblance, complex simplicity
mirrored mine,
and I shed a tear
for every year
she loss,
waiting for his return.
And he,
he couldn't bear
to hear
her footsteps in mine
so I was forced
to grow
lurking
in his distance...
the shifting weight(less)
blame he carried
in the bottom of a bottle
or the rim of a burnt spent cap
could never silence
the echoes
in the almond shape
of her eyes
which looked
thru mine..
and he deafly mute
by drink or dope
tenderly
mouthed to me..
"I loved her then
and I love her still."
In dream
I ran my fingers
across the tattered silhouette
of familiar
and became estranged.
our aloofness traced distant miles
which mirrored mine
and I forced
a smile
of deferred indifference...

to be continued....
kdtaylor/thir13teen
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved 2006

Morning Before War

break beats bump at break neck speed
simultaneously with my heartbeat.
bump bump!
bump bump!
bump bump!
standing tall in the stillness
of the early morning light
somewhere between silence and twilight..
early morning dew,
cascades glistens
slides, fading
into oblivion
I.
unobserved by million;
not interested in who I am -
but what I have -
what I represent,
most resent.
I am
only a refection
of their diseased institution
I am
everything.
I am
nothing.
I am
what makes their freedom ring.
there is a solemn grey
that lies between
my towered twin and I.
we are purple mountain majesty
above dilapitated plains
and blood stained plantations.
victims of their perverted creations.
money earned by free and cheap labor
wall street alleys and political favor.
do you hear our heartbeat
Halliburton?
I am
standing behind the soiled curtain
of your America,
your deceit and treachery.
I am
green from neglect and poverty
hidden behind thin white lies.
grief - the bond between my
towered twin and I
it is approximately
nine and eleven tenth seconds to the moment
of atonement.
there is no fasting and prayer
God is nowhere
in this equation.
only used as justification for the invasion
of her daughter's blackness
the dark richness
of what they lack
is what brings them back.
I
understand your pain,
I, too,
would be enraged
with this land of the free,
home of the brave
you see me as it's pulse,
but it does not run thru me..
we do not share the same bloodline,
this country and I.
I, too,
have been used and abused.
I am
only a figure, standing tall, a centinel
like you,
I am
multi-dementional
look closely,
I
have been forced to my knees
I am
able to pray toward the east
I
know what you've through
I, too,
have been deceived and lied to.
the heartbeat of your countrymen
pulse - rushing
to our shores,
this not so free country
living in courageous cowardice;
and their eyes will search for vindication
only to find their liberties
are held hostage,
blinded by bonded hate.

Mary... May I have Your Grace?

Mother.
I.
searched
for you on bruised
........ bend of knees
(I)
n darkened prayers
late,
last night.
twice be - fore
sweet slumber called
to me
(and)
I to you.
pre/empted dreams
(and)
constricted musings
swung
along
pendulums of time..
(as)
I
climbed into bed
one million stars stared
at me
(and)
I
toward them.
hope - less(ly)
life - less(ly)
heavy arms
dangled
in the balance of
stillednoise
and resoundingsilence..
(I)
n memory
(I) smelled
your clandestinity;
heavily shrouded
on foreign lips
mouthing
fairy tales
of forlorn loss.
suns tucked
me safely into
clouds of obscurity.
hope grappled
sovereignty
shifting quiet comfort
to delusion dissonance
and
(I)
offered
my grace to you,
(and)
you your ever present
absence..
amen.

ktaylor/thir13teen
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved 2006

lucid

i.
once heard
the passing
of a new year
in a single tear..
it slid down my cheek
with the crack of fire works
exploding!
in the backdrop
of my yesterdays; (while)
singe ing
shadowed hope
linger ing
in my tomorrows.
today?
a silenced boom!
tick/tock ing
with every grain of sand
falling,
flooding,
my mind.
time.
passes me by.
we.
distant strangers
sharing
a stranger path
to destined
(k)no(w) wheres
hidden behind the
duplicity
of truth.
i.
once heard death
of a moment
in the crack of a smile
and the weight
of my footsteps.
words grimaced thro
distorted perception
blinded vision
bleak, dark, and painful.
each step
aligned
(with) stagnant desperation.
neither
light nor heavy.
the burden.
i.
could
taste
bitterweet/stenched
disappoint
in my heir;
(a tear drop) :
cutting along the salient
smoke filled
surface of
our existence...
u never see it.
u never feel
the erratic pulsations
(and)
hear the distant rhythm
of (our) conjoined
congestive
lives
riding along the
chaffed ash
of a cracked smile;
under the weight
of footsteps
drenched in
lucid tears...

kdtaylor/thir13teen
section 8 coffee publications 2006
all rights reserved..

untitled...

there are very few days
of whine
and roses.
her thorns
drip
bloodied ink
canvassing my path
of distraught
destruction.
i endlessly wind
thru chasms of
shattered thought,
cracked vision,
disconnected verse
and perverted prose.
our pain takes me nowhere,
yet anywhere
and everywhere
her wind blows...
i go
and ye shall follow -
i am.
a broken poet whose lost
her voice.
plagiarism runs
thru veins
along psalms
printed a top palms,
once sacrificed,
twice her martyr.
i.
self seeking,
translucent
gratification.
i do this
for no one.
i spit not to save any life
other than my own...
or promote a cause,
that is not my burden
to bear.
No profound message
Or meaning,
shall be written
upon the stars...
yet ye follow northern light
on spark of my tongue..
i am not a prophet,
nor am i a GOD
i am the
second short-coming
of sinful redemption's transgression...

to be continued......
kdtaylor/thir13teen 2006
Section 8 Coffee Publications
all rights reserved.....

5 minutes with Thir13Teen
the prolific spoken word artist and current host of Neo-Soul (SFE Entertainment). I sound good already

If money didn't matter what would you do with your life? Become a full time student. I would go to New England and obtain an MFA and PhD. from Smith, Mt. Holyoke, Dartmouth or Yale. (fck. Harvard). Then chill at Walden....

What's the biggest misconception about you? I don't want to know the truth about myself or my character... I only want to hear what will make me happy.

Beauty or brains? Brains. I love intelligence, quick wit and sarcastic humor.

What is your weapon of choice? Words, baby. That's the only way I fight.

Who was your first celebrity crush? I guess maybe, Robert Hooks from the White Shadow. I love cute nerds.. You hear that Funky Mike? I love cute nerds.....

What's your family's nickname for you? My Grand had a way of calling me her favorite grandchild when ever we greeted by phone or in person.... I miss that. My Dad calls me KD....

What is your most embarrassing guilty pleasure? My $1000.00 a year crack addiction at Starbuck's Coffee.

What's the last book you've read? Zora Neale Hurston: A Life in Letters (thanks Brandy).

Name one thing that scares you? Dying alone.

What's the biggest mistake you've made? Not staying with my grand, the night I won the San Antonio Slam. That was our very last time together.

Who would you cast to play you in a movie about you? Regina King

If you ran for President of the United States, who would be your running mate? Hillary Clinton, somebody's got to be there when it get's ugly.

Who is your favorite TV mom? Peggy Hill from King of the Hill.

What's the fastest way to pick a fight with you? Not be courteous of my time. If you're gonna be late, fcking call.

If you could tell one person to shut up, who would it be? Probably myself every time I'm about to stick my foot in my mouth.

Who would you die for? They're already dead. I would love to be courageous and list names, but I truly believe it would be spontaneous.... The act of dying for another....

Name one celebrity whom you would never procreate under any circumstances? Flava Flav.

It would be an honor if some said my writing/poetry reminded them of_____________. Etheridge Knight or Chris Lee.

Name one sex act you would never perform if you were the opposite sex? Don't come near my ass with anything....

Would you ever pose for Playgirl/Playboy? Huh, no?

When was the last time you cried? A couple of weeks ago.

What's the greatest personal tragedy you've ever experienced? The death of my village.

Complete this sentence: By this time next year______________. I will be published."

Now do I really have to name you guys? You know who you are.... Can't wait...

Exactly.... Last night I knew I blew it up.. That without a doubt, I had at least one 10... Uh... Not even close. Now, don't get me wrong.... I don't get pissy about the judges' scores... I know it's not about me, or my poetry, it's a simple bar game... I did what I was suppose to do.. Silence the crowd and get their attention, so that they are able to at least be willing to listen, which they did... I even got nods of approval.... But, as it goes, the one who seemed to enjoy you the most was the biggest critic.. Not like I really cares, but.... It was Rachel McKibbons.. And if I could have earned at least a nine I would have been cool (for the rest of my life. I would tell the story, 'well you know Rachel McKibbons once gave a me a nine in a slam.' hahahahaha.) Instead, an 8.5. Uh.... In the moment I was totally disappointed.. It lasted a good two minutes, then I was past it and was wishing the team would have done better (3rd of three teams!). The slam game is a tough one, got to be able to make the calls at the drop of a dime and have REALLY deep pockets (memorization of at least 5 pieces). I liken it to chess... You gotta have at least one move in advance, see the entire board and game well before it's played... Neo has entered the realm of slam...I am ecstatic, yet I wonder if we are really ready.. My apprehension.... It requires hella commitment, and often, we as a group haven't been able to commit. The teams that we've assembled that have done well worked their asses off (practicing three - four times per week). The last two I've been a part of are, well, have been, not as focused.. To include me... I could have made suggestions about practice, but life happens when, well, when you're living.... So know, as we begin this quest I question if I am willing, if I have the right attitude, I am so fcking competitive and last night was a hard pill to swallow.... Matter of fact, it's still stuck in my throat... There is so much to slam, and unlike an open mic, you have to get USED TO PERFORMING UNDER 3 MINUTES, OUTSIDE YOUR VENUE, WRITING UNDER PRESSURE, MEMORIZATION, WORKING WITH OTHERS, shyt... Need I stress my self anymore? Probably not....

Movin' on Up...

From here.. Things go no where but UP... I used to believe that I enjoyed moving.. A new beginning, a means of starting over... I never accumulated a lot of things, lived similar to a man, not a lot of clutter, not a lot of clothes/shoes. Buy quality so you can never afford to collect shit for the sake of collecting... My motto: if I didn't wear it or use it in a year, and it had little if any sentimental value it could be given or thrown away easily... I guess that changes after you buy a home. I have so much little shit... I have walked over to my future old neighbors' home at least five times this morning with things for their church garage sale. And I still have more things to give... Joe and Kim2 helped on Thursday.. We talked mostly, with little if any real packing.. Which was cool. I only wanted the company.... While I am excited about one chapter of my life closing and another one opening up... It is still a bit painful to walk away from the place I called once called home... Conflicting, because I am ohh so ready to start a new chapter in my life...

Every place I lived since I was 11 years old contained or added up to the number 11. It is also my favorite number... Growing up my address was 111, old address 4007 = 11, new address 1703 = 11, another address, with apt. 722 = 11 and apt. 1110. I could go on but why.. Right?

My back started hurting a few days ago. I know why... I'm becoming a bit lazy... Not in the obesely morbid way, just, you know, I'd rather nap, watch TV, read a book, watch the clock, as opposed to pack or move anything... I've never been one to shy away from work. Matter of fact, often I looked for things to do... I think subconsciously, I am becoming one of those people.... I want to settle down, make a home with some one who loves me as I love them, grow old together, plant flowers and trees, celebrate holidays and create traditions of our very own, you know that happily ever after.. So as I pack and throw things away, I am throwing away all the things that prevented me from being successful in relationships in the past. I want to box, and take with me those things that have allowed me to love freely and tenderly.. Hoping this occasion will be the one that will foster that side of me and allow it to grow....

So as I drove away from my old house with things that needed to be sorted and boxed, I thought about the short distance to my new home... Funny, the home we are to build together, just like the two of us.. Were always in short proximity of one another.. We just had to wait until it was ready.... And it was in due time...

A New Piece... Snippet..

Okay.. I DID create a blog in which to post all my poetry.. But, it's hard keeping up with one, let alone two.... So I am going to erase it later during the day.... The idea is kind of distressing, but it must be done, because I'm tired of cutting and pasting blogs from my desk top.. I don't care to post my entire piece... outta fear.. notlikei'mahellawriteroranything, just you know.... In case someone does like it.... They gotta either finish it or write a beginning...

We resolve to evolve to the minimalist nature of our character.
We crawled to walk to wait in line for
the opportunity to stand for something;
when we didn't see it,
we sat on our asses and looked for anything.
Anything soon became nothing,
leaving our pockets filled with lint, our minds empty.
We're so far behind we actually believe we're the first coming,
the inception, the beginning,
On CP time, we think we're
trend setters, something to be mimicked.
We are blinded by the utterance of the masses standing before us.
What was once a rumble, is now a mumble.
Cataracts and glaucoma destroyed our hearing.
Information received fell upon deaf eyes.
Hindsight, not 20/20 but 50/50.
A crap shoot.
We fall down, we knock down, we stay down
despite the foresight and vision
having stood on the shoulders of the millions that came before us.
But we wore sunglasses, and were too cool..
Too cool to see that our future had blinders, restrictions..
To cool to acknowledge our fear.
And as our steamy hot piss slips
down the tribal spooks backs
and onto their graves,
We tell ourselves it's sprinkling..
We tell ourselves it's raining
Though the only clouds we see are those which hang on the balance
of despair and confusion.
And the bull shit, like hail
continues to fall.
We stand in the thick of it all
in black face and dance like in a minstrel show.
Our heads heavy with shame.
We picked like cotton in southern summer heat on slave plantation
Niggardly..
Doggedly used by others
For wealth and gain
Hip hop culture new cotton
Names have changed, game's the same
Jive, Def Jam, So So Def
under ownership by Sony, Universal, BMG
Replace Jackson, Jefferson, and Washington.
you don't know his cheating rules,
you can't win...
gotcha working corporate plantations,
selling your people out,
despising the black in you
like that house nigga,
you believe his wealth is yours to share
You shuck and jive
new millennium Amos and Andy
grilled gold and diamond encrusted teeth,

replace black grease,
that watermelon chicken eating grin ever present

you put your money where your mouth is
despite the presence of false pretense and security...
hands filled with potential and promise
yet you remain empty

unable to fullfill.......

thir13teen/kdtaylor 2006
Section 8 Coffee publications
all rights reserved.....

bashfully embarrassed...

I am a fan of writers.... There are some incredible writers in my circle.... Often, I work at not putting their names in print or say their names outloud... Mostly, I discuss those whom I don't share a hellalotofspacewith, as not to hurt feelings or create friction with those in my inner circle.. I absolutely love Christopher Lee and his work. He is my overall favorite... I believe that some, including him, underestimate his talent at times, because, tragically, my man can get in his own way.. However, I believe that to be a part of the allure and beauty of his artistry... Mo, without a doubt (EVERYONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL ABOUT MO BEAZY!).. Writes life in volumes, her voice brings it alive, I have felt the spirit of her poetry... I heard Rachel McKibbons in person during Nats, and developed a newer, higher level of respect for her work, I thought she was good when I saw her on Def Poets (but you guys know how they water that shyt down to make everyone the same..), in person she is a fcking oximoron.. she is sensitive, passionate and brilliant as she is crass and in your face. Shane (Vancouver), Andrea (Denver), Ommm Christa Bell (Seattle) and Annis (co-Indy Champ, though I have to admit, after I saw him again, my feelings weren't as intense). There are MANY more, but I believe these people to be the ULTIMATE writers... Like they could write anyfuckingthing. I mean, flushed toilet paper would have feminine strength and power - {Christa}, a struggle against one's demons - {Chris Lee}, a hella character study - {Mo Browne}, courageously attitudinal {Rachel}, dignified spiritual presence {Annis}, passionately underestimated {Andrea} and a romantic archetype you've never noticed, until (s)he spoke - {Shane}. I say all this to say nothing and everything....

Last night, a writer, poet, friend (not necessarily on that order) approached me and discussed writing. My writing in particular. I was totally uncomfortable. I could not for the life of me JUST accept the compliment. An ex homeboy of mine used to refer to that behavior as false humility.. In his opinion, the poet was playing up their discomfort with compliments in order to milk the moment. I wasn't sure if I agreed with it then, now I am convinced I don't agree... I've watched poets and with some, it's very hard. It's difficult (for me, I can't speak for others) to accept compliments for writing about my feelings, or thoughts. I believe everyone has thoughts, feelings, opinions and means of expressing them. Mine stem from many unsettling emotions that I can experience in a single setting... Similar to sitting down for a meal, 'cept I am eating my emotions. Most of it comes from trying to save myself for one moment.. Save myself from a negative thought, or impulse. So what most get is anger, or are met with extreme boundaries.. It's difficult to explain. Well no, it's not, I don't have a true comfort level with exposing that much of myself.. There is someone I write for... She needs to be heard. She is innocent, brilliant, beautiful (but doesn't know it), confused, lacks confidence, extremely sensitive, wants so very much to please everyone, including herself, is living with loss, and dying to live, just a little each day...... I pray I do her voice - justice 'cuz it's always been just us.. So offer a sincere apology to you and anyone else whom I've shunned when offered a hint of a compliment. I apologize for not accepting it, she really appreciates it.... I just don't have the words to convey it....

Okay Cousin... Let's Really Show How White I Am

DISCLAIMER: I am not a true head...
Top !0 H!p H*P Albums
TuPac - All Eyez On Me
Public Enemy - Take A Nation of Million To Hold Us Back (still have the cassette)
Ice Cube - Amerikka's Most Wanted (in my car right now!)
Wu Tang Clan - Enter the Wu (36 Chambers)
Dr. Dre - The Chronic
Outcast - Aquemini
Kwame - A Day In The Life: A Polkadelick Adventure/The Roots - Things Fall Apart
Pete Rock and CL Smooth - Mecca and The Soul Brother
A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders
Jay Z - MTV Unplugged

Top 5
TuPac
Jay Z
Nas (even though I didn't name him in the top 10, he can flow.)
Ice Cube (cause he's angry BABEE.)
MC Lyte.... (Love her voice.)

Top 5 Groups
The Roots
Outcast
Heavy D and the Boyz
Wu Tang
Jr. Mafia (I almost never include BIGGIE in my lists... I like him, but I stay down with Pac!)

On days when I feel densely dark. I am reminded that I have potential and that I can get by.. On days when I am rough and gruff, believing that there is nothing and no one, worth a smile or my time... I am reminded that now that I have you I can never truly be alone... I guess you have come to know, what I am unable to see, recognize or convince myself daily ... I am no longer the person I was, before I met you.. I thank you.... I thank you for saying yes to me every morning thru prayers, words and gestures.. I thank you for letting me know that we can share each other's last names or make on up of our own if we so desire.. But I love being a seamstress to your foundation. You are my brick and mortar, I, your needle and thread... ... I thank you for agreeing to make a home with me. I thank you for loving me... I thank you for seeing... Even though a couple hundred miles separate us this night, and the only thing we share are armless, faceless hug thru telephone wires and a rerun of CSI... Thanks for knowing, and showing that I can be valuable to someone.. Thanks allowing me to be your diamond in the rough... I love you...

It was hot!!!! No, it really was. I think I sweat at least a couple inches off my waist and back.. The area I generally refer to as bra fat... HA! I had a great time.. We taunted the Lancaster team most of the afternoon... LB Wilson put it down.. There were some record breakers and heartbreakers..... All in all a pretty fine weekend. I didn't go to VYP (Vince Young All-Sta Party) on Friday, as the heat had beat me down.. And also, I'm learning, AGAIN, that it's really not my thing. Aside from that I've chilled with the infamous Cut Creator, seen and heard Kid Capri before, I'm not a UT fan, even though I've heard Vince Young is a sweetheart, and I really don't care for Ray J... Not like I know him personally, but, I don't care for his music or his "persona", I mean HOW HARD CAN MOESHA'S (Brandi's) LITTLE BROTHER BE? He ain't gone kick too many asses. Always trying to mean mug somebody, hunnnn. Anhh, and his body reminds me of my 15 year old nephew (euwww) Actually, my nephew is bigger... But I did, after some fantastic races, and went down to the Urban Music Festival After-Party, after I attended a friend of mine's private party. Chris Rock was right with his undercover conservative ass... And my black ass is as white as his and tiger woods.. I kid you not. I was looking out of the glass windows at the nonsense that was occurring..... Within one half hour there had been at least four - five fights.... People were firing up joints in front of the police thinking "I'm not gone get arrested." and they were immediately hancuffed. People wouldn't clear the area. Outright harassment of others. Now.. I could jump on the APD ain't shyt train.. IT WASN'T THE APD I WAS AFRAID OF, IT WAS THE FCKING NI'CAHS... The bottom line was these were not Austinites on the street, or maybe there were and they "forgot" about Mardi Gras, when the APD commenced to whupping a bunch of nondescript asses. Better yet, the previous SXSW when they put the beat down on a band for taking the music to the street and violating the noise ordinance? There are some bad cops... This I know.. But guess what, the bad mofos needed to be on the street this weekend. Even at the "EVENT" you know the actual relay? They (You know the ones) refused to move, and continued loitering under the stands. Believe it or not there are a bunch of races going on up stairs? That's why they CAME... WHY DID YOU COME? I refer to it as the ghetto fashion show.... Don't know shty about track, just want to be seen.... You know, and don't get me wrong... I love the black social season, it occurs once a year... But I don't love the nonsense, and some of it was just bullshit, and it's not just the "people of color" it's everybody. So, the mounted officers made me feel a bit safer. The police standing in circles in the middle of the street made me feel a little safer... And yes, at 3:00 am when my in-lawed family and I made our way to our cars with cash and equipment, I was happy that the police were just outside the door and that they were a block away from our vehicles after me made the drop off... Was it unnecessary? For me, a resounding no.... I even told the cops, after unsuccessfully getting the crowd to move for over an hour and a half... "If you tear gas them and shoot rubber bullets I will support you wholeheartedly. Matter of fact, be on television co-signing your actions." Because they needed to clear folks' asses from the streets. Often, we don't know how to have a good time, and know our limitations, when enough is enough... See, it's like the well known closing statement, "you ain't got to go home, just get the hell outta here..."

Brad's sister can kick your ass....

4 x 200 meter relay

"B.. You know those girls are going to beat some boys' team time. You know that don't you?"

"Thir13teen.. That can't happen. I mean.. Naw, that can't happen."

twenty minutes later..

"Thir13teen. Man you called it. Whoa... Those girls were running. Damn. I'd go home. They beat three of their times..."

couple of hours later...

4 x 400 meter relay

"B. You know those girls are going to beat some boy's team times.. You know that don't you."

"Naw, Thir13teen, it can't be done.. There is no way.. I mean a guy would have to run like, oh my GOD, a 55.. 56, Even if they all ran low 50's one guy is good for at least a 45.. 46.."

"A'ight, B. I'm telling you, they're going to beat at least one.

"Can't happen."

twenty five minutes later...

"ohh... Man, Thir13teen, I know... I know.. DAMN.."

"Now, when the coach says 'I know some girls that can beat you. Or worse, ____ 's little sister can beat you. Guess what? He's not lying."

"I'd cry."
"I wouldn't show up... Thir13teen, Thir13teen.. Look.. They just got two."
"DAMN..."

I love track.......... Ohh, if you didn't know.. Long Beach Wilson were the girls who beat those boys' times, and we're not going to say how many College women's teams they took out....

Tis the SEASON....

Last year I called in sick... it was cloudy and cool, rumored to rain... so, not wanting to use vacation.. I used a sick day... I came back CRISPY. I mean sunburned, with a huge heat rash on my left arm, skin peeling from my forehead... My boss, "That case of relays must've been pretty bad." I was busted, my secret out! I call it the black social season....Texas Relay Weekend... It is the only time, that MOSTLY people of color from all over meet in Austin, Texas. It is a wonderful weekend. People whom you forged relationships in the blistering heat, biting winds, and stinging rain will meet in the same place year after year... Ours at the finish line... Take the stairs by the snow cone stand... Turn, 6 to 10 rows up, on the right.... Whatever the weather, one thing is certain.... We will be there... there will be some damn good parties, and even better foot races.. Or in some cases lightening fast races..... The picture is that of a track dynasty. (Long Beach Wilson High School, google them, it's friggin scary, oh my gosh the records) . Now I love my beloved great state of Texas, even more, Texas track and field... But not since Converse Judson, (in my heyday) has there been a group of women that dominate all around... I know Lancaster has been doing the damn thing, but.... These ladies (Wilson) will dominate...... And I mean dominate... I will wear their t-shirt on Saturday, the day of finals... cuz I want to run with the big dogs... The winners. I will listen to my best male friend B and his brothers (by blood and bond) rattle off stats, telling everyone who to watch. We will stand on our feet as they round the track, ohhing and awing, we will heckle UT fans, go in the garage and play dominoes at the break, heckle even more UT fans and anyone who goes against our predictions, drink entirely too much lemonade, eat even more over priced junk food, and gnaw on those strawberry chills, which make you even thirstier... It will all be good, cuz we're enjoying every minute of it, secretly reliving our glory days when we were state ranked track stars, currently living vicariously thru the those that rush past our onlooking strides. Promising next year to return looking as if we can run a decent mile......

Last night we had a chance to fine A lee watch Brokeback Mountain... We had an opportunity to see Crash in the movie theater (my preferred method.. hint hint)..... Okay ONE - It was ALRIGHT.... TWO - Hell to the naw.... Crash. Without a doubt was a better flick. In Brokeback, I would have liked to see more dimension in character development... While I strongly identified... I found myself making a lot of assumptions. Something I was not totally comfortable with. I am unsure if this was a break-thru flick, also. The story has been told before.. Initially, I believed that it didn't win because as a society we can accept Denzel being a "thug" (and I thought Tupac's Bishop in retrospect was hella better), Halle getting down with Billy Bob, even knowing, regardless of race, creed, religion, orientation, if you don't have greenbacks, the duckets, cheddar, bread... it's hard out here for a ______. But we could not allow a "gay" movie to win Best Picture. The bottom line, Brokeback was not necessarily a "gay movie". And two it REALLY wasn't the BEST of those nominated. I will watch both again on the same night in a couple of weeks to challenge my thinking... That's my two cents... I have them both as part of the collection, so if you want to borrow one, hit me up. I was reading Angel's blog and I'm thinking I'm very quirky/strange. Langston used to say it all the time, ELM believes quirky is an understatement. I'm beginning to think it's not just the seven I've mentioned. I also have this thing with sheets and covers. I cannot for the life of me sleep without covers... It doesn't matter how hot or uncomfortable the covers may seem.. If it's too hot I will adjust the room temperature to accommodate the covers... I mean, I could be sweating my ass off and if you pull the covers off, I will wake up immediately and pull them back up. Funny thing is, when I do get hot, I will "allow" one leg to stick out of the cover.. Like B-Wine, I'm starting to crack myself up.. I mean, really how cool can you get with one foot from under the cover? And ohh, the horrors... Please don't allow a blanket to touch me without a sheet as a buffer... It freaks me out! TMI... Speaking of TMI.. I think I saw a transgendered person today. Okay. I know it's freaky.. (I know two future University of Texas PHds = free therapy. And I have got to talk to them about this) They had courses surrounding GLBT persons and issues. I think he's a female to male... He called out my order at Dan's, and I looked up and noticed that something really didn't match... I mean I'm not the "OUT" police... I know people who try to guess people's sexuality all the fcking time. Like everywhere we go, "you know he's gay. She's a dyke. You know that's a man right?" It's really annoying. I don't care who you do.. As long as you're not trying to do me.. HAHAHAHAHA... If I were single it might be different... (not!) .... NO NO NO NO disclaimer... I don't do artists, (to include singers, painters, actors, poets, writers, wannabepoets, wannabewriters, hell if you blog or respond to blogs hahahaha.... And man, I know one, I mean, some, beautiful and handsome poets) anyone under 30 (I ain't got time to raise you, no matter how old you think you are.. And if you're think you're old enough, mature enough, nic'ah, you've had way too many experiences for me, except for the artists who lie about their age.. And I don't do artists), no one with "gigs" (nic'ah get a REAL job with fcking retirement.. Unless of course you're an artist, which I don't do), on parole, probation, deferred adjudication (nic'ah you gone be on parole or probation SOON), awaiting trial (again you gone be on parole or probation SOON), uses the line ... "I'm taking the semester off" and you been outta school for over a year, no one with newborns, infants or toddlers (I STAND BY THIS RULE.. sorry, it's all too fcking brand new for me. you + your ex + the child = DRAMA), not financially or mentally stable (I can't pay and think for the both of us), have not maintained your own place of residence for at least six months (If you can't look out for yourself, who can you look out for?), height and weight proportionate, but I will make exceptions for certain body parts, uses your ex's name in one or two sentences within the first month of meeting.. (HAHAHAHA) okay, okay, TMI.. I digress. But it was funny huh? Okay... What does your list look like? I mean, I'm not too picky.. I managed to find someone who's a pretty damn good match, plus has a few of the things I love most... BROWN EYES to start... Okay... Wasn't I talking about the transgendered person? I'm want to go back to see, but I think that's too strange... Dang.. I lost my thoughts... Poetry tonight.. All about the youth. I am too excited... Even more about the group piece a few of us are going too.

okay.. i'm a little nutty

sarah... let's just say this is number 7.....okay.... last night i was watching television.... and i ran across a show called transgenders.... a show basically about people who are, well, making the transition from male to female, female to male.... i know i am going to sound absolutely stupid, and perhaps insensitive, i apologize in advance.... but, i for the life of me cannot understand this... i've had a few friends tell me that they believed they were in the wrong body because they didn't understand their same sex in love feelings as they were growing up.. but each, for the most part, recognized that they were gay and lesbian as they aged, matured, and experimented with their sexuality.... i love my breasts... and i can appreciate other breasts... not sexually, but you know... in my family we have great boobs... it is a calling card... if i ever wear anything remotely revealing, you'd understand.... my uncle used to rub his head in my great aunts as a way of greeting her.... and, horror.. one of the most memorable moments at my grand's funeral was a woman discussing her recollection of my grand teaching her how to keep hers breasts attentive and perky.... i couldn't wait to have breast.. as tomboyish as i was, i stuffed toilet paper and socks down my bras so that i could resemble the women in my family... i digress.. but, we don't even want to discuss the other parts of my body that i absolutely adore.... i love being a woman... i could not imagine giving any of it away, let alone altering myself to become a man... no matter who i have loved or have loved me... i once had a huge thing for a drag queen when i was a freshman in undergrad... not like i wanted to date him, i just thought he was beautiful... i give him money all night.. he used to say, "baby, do you know I'm a man?" i'd smile, shake my head and proceed to tip him anyway... we became good friends.. even referred to him as my cousin.. his name was chico.... i guess... i can understand a man wanting to become a woman.. but for all the penis envy in the world, i would not go thru the process of losing my precious "v" in exchange for a "d".... i mean, i loved my coochie well before i heard christa's coochie magic voodoo, and i knew how to use it pretty good, but now.... if you're feeling the urge to buy me drinks tomorrow night it's because i'm thinking about my coochie right now... hahahahahahaha anyway... so last night when i ran across the show i was fascinated to say the least... i remember a few years back when "butch mystique" was on showtime, langston called me, hysterical, he'd ran across this show, and all these beautiful, black, college cut, bald headed, hard bodied men, were....... well, women.... it weirded me out for a second.... i mean as i go to clubs and the like.... i see women act like men, emulate their behavior in an effort to play a role, and now, i wonder, do some of these women think they are men trapped in women's bodies.... i even saw a show where the man believed he was a woman, and wound up being with a woman... and how about the show when the woman wanted to be with a man, wound up with a man.... even a documentary called southern comfort, where the female to male transgendered person died of ovarian cancer, and couldn't be treated... well no doctor wanted to treat him.... are these people really gay, and ae afraid to accept their homosexuality? or are they really trapped.... i mean kit said it best, "because i feel white inside, does that make it okay for me to do a micheal jackson?" well, she didn't say it that way... maybe i should have put this on my six for sarah.... i'll keep researching.. in the interim.. i bought brokeback today, so i'm gonna watch it after american idol..... i say all this to say nothing... i will keep watching the show to let you know what's up... but i think i want to have a transgendered friend, you know? just to talk.... i am so curious now... ohh and sarah... with the boxer shorts and wife beaters... (the boxers are double xx ) so after mowing 1/2 the lawn they start falling down from sweat... by the time I'm watering the lawn, I'm sagging, showing the women's men style briefs... it's hee larious.. to say the least....

Okay... DAMN COUSIN...

1. I become nauseated when eating chicken on a stick in Chinese resteraunts. Secretly, I believe it's rat, cat, or dog... Sorry... But I eat it everytime........

2. I absolutely cannot stand people crushing on me... It makes me totally uncomfortable....

3. Finding hair anywhere, (especially hotels). Oh my gosh, it freaks me out.. makes me itch....

4. I love doing the lawn, planting shrubs and plants.. Especially in the summer... I like to wear wife beaters and boxer shorts, mow and trim my lawn. When I finish I like to drink cold beers, standing in the sprinkler, while sweats beads down my face, back and arms... Admiring my yard.. Very butch, but very relaxing....


5. I love driving.... It's one of my favorite ways to relax.......

6. I hate for people to enter my space and I loathe unwanted touching, especially my hair... I often initiate hugs because I can dictate how long you will be touching me..

transgression for nothing more

i turn to see your eyes... deeply soft brown, reminding me of tomorrows... i love waking up to your smile, arms that stretch for miles, legs thrown cross mine, muffled i love yous, and a last ditch effort to claim everything that's good about our mornings... before a shared prayer for combined and separate happiness, for ourselves, our families, our friends, our goals, our future.... we dig deep into covers, into each other, one last cuddle until it's time to hit the snooze button again..... yes.... i was late again... but it was so worth it.....

Thanks Poet in Law

This was our stage..... it didn't matter if there were one or a million people present. We performed for ourselves and each other. Leaving nothing to the imagination but the words that lingered thickly in the air... painting each picture as if we were verbal picassos or van goughs....
" let's embarrass the universe with our love, 'causing even venus to blush..."
" i spit at 15..."
"driving along america's lies.."
"you can reach me by railway.."
"larva morphs into moths, 'cuz butterflies.."
five amazing poets hitting the street doing what poets do best........ thanks guys.. despite my cooties, it was so very cool......