week's end.... feeling great, feeling good.

There's something in the way you move... or don't. The last few days have been hectic. Had a chance to talk to my STMP mentor.. he made me feel pretty good. Just found out today that Princess felt I should not have been involved in a meeting that occurred earlier during the week. The meeting where I saved her ass! Now, I could be ugly like the Admin Asst. and refer to her as Pie Face or Moon Face... as she has some extremely swelling in her face and limbs. I try not to look at her, as it makes me uncomfortable, but I have been slowly acknowledging, even when she refuses to acknowledge me. And it's cool. However, I'm not chasing her pie.... She said as soon as she got her degree (SHE DID ALL OF HER HOMEWORK WHEN SHE WAS SUPPOSE TO BE WORKING ON MY AUDITS, but I'm not complaining).. She was LEAVING.. As she put it, "I can't wait to leave this bitch! I don't know why you want to stay." Now, it seems she's having more difficulty than she imagined... You have to be careful in State Government. You'll have a rep before you know it.. And it's easy to get a bad one.. Any way I subscribe to the idea that everyone wants a piece of the pie, just different flavors. Now me, I want some pecan cheese cake. Her... It depends on the day.. And why do I feel like it's my flavor. But.. Until she tells me I will not assume, I'm just going to k(eep) i(t) m(moving).. and pray.
Guess they gave into the pressure. Last night they merged the tribes on Survivor. Was it just me, or did you think the remaining HiKi tribe members would have been gone in the next four weeks. It was interesting top watch the selection. The darkest sister was picked last, and the discomfort was all over her face. Man, they play on her insecurities, or is it me? I'm glad they did it though, the race would never be the same if they hadn't.
In other news... I've been chilling to Dave Hollister's the Book of David (gospel) and Anthony David's Red Clay Chronicles.... Off the chain... Hoping to Catch Somore at the Comedy Club, and veg to the first series of Noah's Arc if I can find it.....

Have a good weekend....

I don't know how to act....

I'm Bring Grateful Back.. Yeah..

01) knowing that chicken and poetry always brings a smile to his face.

02) her sharing our fried chicken wednesday, hey! with him while she's ramadan'ing...

03) contact sports and ring side/VIP seating

04) an e-mail reminding me why, friendships, life, growth and trust are always fragile.. you must always handle the responsibility with care.

05) even when i'm the angriest, i still love and appreciate her more than she'll ever know.

06) his forgiveness and grace.

07) STMP (short term management plan) is working!

08) words. written. spoken. thoughtful.

09) knowing that letting go is better than holding on.. even when it hurts

10) a free trip to new york (for shannon leigh).

11) prayer in deeds

12) every breath, every minute

13) the ability to love, and learning how to do it unconditionally

something..

First way to go Angel with the no food during the day.. Now mind you we're still doing Fried Chicken Wednesday, HEY................ to test your resolve... Naw, I'm joking.

There are two poems I'm working on.. Again snippets. Let me know what you think.. The first, I'm working on something like The Idea of Ancestry... I've been seemingly successful with inheritance, yet I believe there is so much more.. That I can do it if I take my time.. So I will work at not rushing for a finished product. let the piece breathe...

Our family photos are like dust tracks.
They barely leave an impression.
And if you follow them,
they will leave you lost..
Confused.
We've never tried to explain them.
The words trail like
particles of ash blowing in the wind..
They have no roots,
yet they manage to find their way home
and return to the earth which provided them life.
Held their secrets.
Burying the them
and
their memories...
Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust..
Our family has no tree .
It has never been anything more,
than a bush.
there are no branches...
and anything with promise is snipped..
our future shaped,
compact..
..... to be continued..

The second... Well, it's personal. I don't really want to go into it. The rationale and all, but please let me know what you think.. This one will be a gift, maybe, so I really need good feedback, not ohh it's good. hahahaha... lmao..


He.
Can't bear the weight
of the masses.
But he tries.
He.
Desperately tries.
And I love him for it.
He.
With giant strides,
and baby steps
head held high,
conceals secrets and pain.
Words held tightly
in the rise of his cheeks.
Yet he smiles.
Or at least he tries.
He tries to smile
attentively to everything
outside himself..
He a facade. A simple illusion.
His valor, fading.
His strength, weakening.
His heart, eurthymically
seeking it's beat.
The one he remembers
in dreams.
The beat that cries along side him..
Before it all..
Before smiles were heavy.
Words consuming.
Yet he speaks.
Or at least he tries.
He tries to speak over the screams
raging inside him.
....to be continued.....

Okay.. the last couple of days I've seen some (to take Angel's words right from her mouth) weirdo stuff.. It's been funny and humorous and sad... Like yesterday I went for a burger and a homeless man asked me for a dollar. I told him all I had was a twenty, then he started HARASSING ME... Like following me.. Talking about all I wanted to do was get a drink, why are you like that... Mind you, I'm not insensitive.. But I have to see God in you. Now I don't know what it means, but it's a feeling. And I will help you. It's not a judgment, just a feeling.. I mean I once while on an audit, I walked blocks in Galveston to buy a homeless person a meal.. So if he as thirsty, I think I would have bought him a drink... Then he became a bit abusive with me and my money.. So I turned to him and said, "harrassing people probably isn't the best way to get help." Hell for a minute I thought I was going to have to fight him.. Which reminds me of funky Mike who has a piece about fighting the homeless.. It's not what you think, he's referencing a waitress's poor choice in words, she said "would you like to fight the homeless." Now, he's cracking me up and he's not even here. Anyway check out the Funky Mike link to the side.. Funny, I know how to put a damn videod on my blog page, but I have no clue how to do the cute little link thing.. Weirdo... Okay. I digress..

Yesterday, I also saw a person riding a bike, speed around the corner, in the turn lane during rush hour like he was Lance Armstrong or some shyt.. I mean he almost wiped out, and if he had he would have been splattered all over Guadalupe and 45th. It was horrifically funny.. Heathers type shyt funny.. anyway I digress again..

Okay... I have a funny work story, but don't I have to think about it, because Karma is a mother.. so, maybe tomorrow..

Weekend Lessons....

I'm learning some things slowly and surely. And while I say I am NOT someone who would live a life tainted with regret; sadly, I believe I have hinted in the direction occassionally. Unless of course, I am able to work through some of the feelings. Quickly. . And I did.. So I'm still on the path of No Regret.. This year I've learned that there were people who were in my life that prolly should have never been there, and vice versa. I mean there's no one I, contrary to popular belief, hate. I just would have rather "never known them" despite the lessons I've learned from their aquaintance. Matter of fact, some lessons revisited.. and thank God I've learned them this go round... However, there is one person, whom I missed dearly. She helped me through so much. Well we helped each other. Gave each other what we needed when we needed it. Was there when we mutually really needed someone to listen and loan a shoulder.... Life gets in the way. So do the decisions we make. Fortunately for us, it wasn't a big blow up, and nothing got in the way. Except our stubborness.. We lost touch through mutual disappointment in our life choices and paths at the time... So I gave in. Pride is a poison I never want to die from! It's a lonely death. I'm watching someone I love dearly slowly kill herself so I pray for a different path and weekly try to do something different. So this weekend, I looked for my dear friend and found her. It was WONDERFUL... We picked up as if we'd never left off. It was cool. I mean we never missed a beat or the time. Thanks.. To a very special winged wonder who gave me the strength to move forward... I owe you.

Second.. I love frigging CONTACT SPORTS. Thanks to my main man, B-Fran. I have been able to watch some of the best sporting events of the year... I even had a chance to get sweat on me after one of the fighters was kicked out of the ring.. Well, no not sweat, but I was that close.. HA! Friday night after we went to see jet Li in fearless, I got to sit in front of Chuck Norris' , who by the way is very little... at The World Combat League Western Finals.. I cannot describe it, other than to say I CAN'T WAIT TO GO AGAIN!!!! It was fanfriggin'tastic So again.. Thanks B-Fran...

On other notes. The remainder of the weekend was like a Charlie Brown Halloween, "all I got was rocks!" and to add my own twist.. "and they suck hard..."

Bittersweet Novembers and Choices....

Jaco's November
(for Costa Rica)

I wonder if she knows I miss her...
My life time of Novembers
will never be the same.
I long for our late night smiles,
and conversations,
laced
with mutual adulation.
Coupled, with her laughter.
Her laughter filled the chasms
and voids in my mind.
She, the only journey
I knew
or dared venture.
She ...
Simply, fulfilled me.
And I wonder.
I wonder if she knows,
if.
If, I could do it all over again,
I'd paint pictures in her undertones.
Use the reds, browns, and blues
to paint forever.
All the while, dancing
lightly through her base notes…
Yet.
Two years later...
I've aged more than my days.
My feet are heavy.
I am blinded.
I’ve grown deaf..
Despite the recognition of sound,
it’s truly her, I long to hear.
Now, as another November approaches.
I wonder,
I wonder if she knows
I am awakened with the scent of her.
The fragrance of her sweet memory.
Her heart notes…
continue to beat eurythimically.
Tingling my nose
reminding me of
gardenias, ginger and orange flowers.
And I long to embrace the
haunting silhouette of her presence.
The darkened emptiness remains.
She, is not there.
I am left wanting
and weighed;
with the consequence of my choice
and I wonder.
I wonder if she knows that I’m thinking of her.
And that if I could..
I'd do more than just,
wonder...

kdtaylor 2006
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

I Would Never Go Back.....

I used to think that I'd go back to High School. It was a pretty good time in my life. I was an athlete, pretty popular, goofy, and SKINNY... Plus I didn't have to work, 'cuz i did my job well, be a student-athlete was all that was asked... If I failed anything or quit sports, well, I had to get a job... Damn, you can't play sports in Grad School... THUS.

Anyway, the last two days we've performed at a couple of the local High Schools during their lunch hour. One of which the enrollment is down by 700 students.. over half the 2005 graduating class did not graduate as they failed the required state/fed exams. Mind you they have 8 kids in the BAND!!!! and haven't won a game since 2003. The other has 2500 students, in a very enclosed campus... there were over 500 kid at one lunch hour!!! WTF? Langston and I repeatedly said aloud in UTTER DISBELIEF, "this is not conducive to education. there are way too many kids." There were 3 fight during the time we were there. In one instance the faculty staff person moved SOOOOOO SLOOOOWWWWLLLYYYY that the kids stopped fighting due to fatigue (it's still over 90 degrees here, and the humidity? fa git a bout it! you will be soaked in a matter of minutes.)

The make up of each campus was predominately hispanic/latino (consistent with Travis County), the socio-economics were obviously better at the 2500 + campus.... but the kids, man, they didn't look like kids.. they wore extremely club hopping short skirt and shorts, sagging jeans, baseball caps, grills, and house shoes (yes, house shoes, mofo 'ing slippers!). One girl had on some cut off pajamas and mismatched socks.. And i thought to myself, this is my future... These are the people who are suppose to support my ass in my old age... Like they are OUR FUTURE, and I'm not doing a damn thing, other than making assumptions.. All of which were not good. And then I felt sad... I made a chose long ago not to have children.. emotional baggage, fear of not being enough, good enough, smart enough.. educational and economic reasons, like who the hell is going to pay for them to eat until they get to college, and who's gonna pay for college? family stuff, like will I live long enough to rear them, will I be a single parent, will their father be worth a shyt? Biggest - Will they inherit my fears? And how will I handle them...

It was sad. I felt hurt, confused, sad, anxious..... How could I make a difference today? What could I do to plant a seed? Don't get me wrong, some were sweet, engaging, humorous, and others were themselves... It just reminded me... Man, English Teachers saved my life, not once, but twice. All they ever did was taught me about reading and writing. That I could read and talk my way, past what I saw in my daily life, good, bad or indifferent.. I could escape in words, and even find someone whom I had a lot in common with words/language, just stories, poems, letters, hell... My Great Grand told hecka stories, so I write what she can no longer say... Later, I wrote to escape.. I still do. I could escape from my angst (teen-age, adult, and human).. and prayerfully, my ongoing participation in this program will do the same for another child. Save their life.. I don't need to be there to see the results. Earlier I talked about assumptions hinting judgment/judging, but I wasn't judging the kids, just the circumstances, the situation and myself... my willlingness to talk the talk or walk the walk... today.. fck it I started walking.... Cuz someone walked for me....

ohh and survivor... i'm still pissed... we'll get to that later..

have a good weekend.......

I believe heaven must be like this.. ray of sunshine

I have found the wedding song.... Okay. I'm ahead of myself. I am literally feeling crazy. So I need to slow down and back up. Well, maybe not even back up. Chose my words a bit more carefully.

".... Can't tell you nothing you ain't already heard. No matter what I say, it's nothing but words.. just let prove to you what I know what I know is real. Let me express to you the way that I feel......"

Words
Anthony David feat. India.Aire

Sometimes you hear something, and it reminds you of everything pure and real. Reminds you of everything that is good about the courtship, the inception of a love affair..... the innocence, desire and need.. need to be in their presence, for nothing other than an opportunity to catch whatd it may, or can feel like, you now forever.. good or bad.. I have truly found the love of my life... and if I allowed, if given the opportunity... well... I almost said something I never believed I would say out loud. But I would do the do and honeymoon, making it as Keith Sweat would sang.. "it last for ever.." I love the new John Legend, well, you see his video on the side... Maxwell's Extended version of "Cops Come Knockin'" or "Softly Sweetly" (ya'll don't know nuthin' bout that, that's from Sweetback's (Sade's band) Album. Maxwell by the way is working on a new cd.... I can think about the night I heard Believe, then later You both by Raheem DeVaughn.. I cried and fell in love for the last time.... Olu and Me'shell... (first cd is still a classic Plantation Lullabies). The first time I heard Anthony Hamilton's Chyna Black... and Jill Scott... to this day, I'm like.. and Floetry, well... hell... Erykah Badu.. My Eyes are Green... I mean until those days I was not a fan of anything... and now.. well, I've been chilling to Gone by Esthero and Cee - Lo Green.. okay, I can think of a million songs.. but right now I am going to hum the hella out of Anthony until Tuesday.. And if you YouTube the video it ain't gonna do shyt, hit up, BET.COM, music, listen up and do the damn dang...

Attitude for Gratitude Wednesday

Attitude for Gratitude Wednesday aka I'm Bringing Grateful Back!

01. My Best Guy Friend Langston's smile (it's been scarce, but handsome nonetheless)

02. Her. She continues to be a gift I open daily.

03. His grace... abundant blessings and knowledge.

04. Big Chill. We cannot chose the family we are born into, but thank God we can chose the family we call friends.

05. John Legend and Technology. And I didn't ask Poet in Law for help.

06. Girls Night In and Out and In again....

07. Staying in my lane, even when I'm about to swerve! Thanks for the "Hello, my name is K... and I can't stay in my lane" sponsorship 'Chelle.

08. Reality TV shows. Can't wait for Thursday!

09. My Circle. Sister. Circle. writing crew!!!!!! Cousin. Eb n Flo. Angel. You guys have put a fire under my ass!!!! And it's bigger and prettier than your fire!!!

10. Taking healthy risks and letting go of the results.

11. A son I can almost call my own.

12. My Village and it's Warrior Protector. (MMMCS and T!)

13. The ability to send prayers. Copa... I love you...

extra added bonus: CAN YOU SAY - WWW.BLASTRO.COM The Wire Spoken Word Battle and Neo-Soul? "cuz they WILL be filming at Neo tonight!!!!!

Lips, Dandelion Clocks and Wishes

The weather is beautiful. So is life.... It's cool enough to confuse Spring and Fall. I love it.. I got my mojo back... at least I believe I have. Let me know what you think....


Dandelion Clocks (for Peony)

I aspire to be the thoughtful wetness
glistening atop your luscious lips.
There I'd breath, live and die.
Forever,
tasting each and every word spoken.
Every utterance
and ponderance,
ruminating inside your comely façade.
I don't want to be you,
or be with you.
I don't long to be your lover,
or someone to whisk you
away from the mundanely chaotic calm
you call life.
I just want to tell the time
by the light in your eyes,
make a wish,
breath
and taste
the idea of you.
Allow it to marinate, simmer,
burn in my mind;
or, like a fine wine,
allow it to swirl in my mouth
and tease my palette.
I want to discern the curious complexities
and savor the fruitful flavor.
The randomness of it all,
watching you, as life
blushes in your direction.
Coloring shadows
giving them light,
so that darkness never surrounds you.
Even in the midst of your darkest hour;
the moon succumbs to your seduction,
and rivals the glory of the sun.
Chasing away the doubt,
lurking in your distance.
Unbeknownst to you,
I find strength
in your unassuming presence.
Whisper me across rooms
so that I may touch
others as you have touched me.
A gentle sweetness mirroring
the bitterness of my weakness.
Imperfectly reminding me of days past...
No seduction, only imagination.
No exploration, only appreciation.
My heart's intention is innocent...
it flows like hot summer breeze
from childhood past times...
We'd know the time, by the number of breaths..
Three breaths, at three o'clock.
Pursed lips blowing dandelion clocks
carrying three wishes.
Carrying you.
Carrying me.
And the simple nakedness of our desires.
Stripped of inhibitions that
blind and bind
us to rules that never,
that never need anything more
than a hint of a reason
to be broken.
Let me be that reason.
Let me be the one.
Let me be that thoughtful wetness
glistening atop your luscious lips.
There I'd breathe, live and die,
waiting for nothing more than
your very next word or wish.

kdtaylor, 2006
section 8 coffee publishing
all rights reserved

Dandelion Clocks

My heart's intention is innocent..
It flows like hot summer breeze
from childhood past times.
We'd know the time
by the number of breaths...
Three breaths,
at 3:00 o'clock..
Pursed lips blowing dandelion clocks
carrying three wishes.
Carrying you.
Carrying me.
And the simple nakedness of our desires.
Stripped of inhibitions that
blind and bind
us to rules that never need more
than a reason to be broken
Let me be the reason.
Let me be the one.
Let me be the thoughtful wetness
glistening a top your lucious lips.

kdtaylor, 2006
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

Ten Reasons Survivor Cook Islands Is Worth

NOT DISCUSSING AT THE WATER COLOR AT WORK!

10. HiKi Tribe's (black/african american) - Chant "represent, represent, represent" ONLY to finish dead last behind the Raro Tribe (caucasian/white).
09. Flica's (Raro Tribe) chant "Go Whitey!"
08. Nate's (HiKi Tribe) revelation to millions of viewers, "Black people don't like to be told what to do. And we have a bunch of headstrong people around here."
07. Only to top himself later, prior to the exile vote by stating, "You know these sisters don't think they need a man".
06. Not to continue to pick on my people, but how about: Mr. Funkin for Jamaica himself, Sekou, plopping his big, fat ass on the raft for a nap after doing nothing more than, giving orders.
05. Mistaking Yul (Puka Tribe/asian) for Scottie Pippen.
04. Okay, yes, back to my people.... Color rules.... Why is game already being played on Stephanie's insecurities?
03. Why did we know that the Puka or HiKi Tribes were going to grab the chickens first?
02. Speaking of the chickens, can you say sense of entitlement? Jonathan (Raro Tribe) rationalization.... stating, "I just saw a free chicken."
01. Was it any surprise that thinking quickly on your feet would yield any other result or winner? Puka Tribe won first place.

additional items not to mention even with the most liberal co-worker:
*It appeared as if the "hardest working" group of people had their little area fixed before anyone else.
* What group was first to give the appearance that they wanted to frolic aka "get their freak on" with the little "cuddle puddle" before any other group ?
* Who made a critical decision based on emotion rather than logic and strategy?
* To add insult to injury, why did they allow only the men to make that decision?
* Why did the HiKi Tribe, look only at to Raro Tribe as means of punishment? Don't give me that chicken thief crap.
* Why do we know this is going to be a long embarrassing season for every ethic group?

Wondered Descension

After her descension
no one really asked
how she got the scar.
they simply stared.
pierced thru the shambles
she called life,
tore thru her false pretenses
dropped their cold gaze to
her nail bed and assumed.
assumed the dirt and blood
which held buried secrets
came from clawing her way from hell..
never believing that an angel
can have both..
a keloid scar from the fall,
and the earthern remains
from constantly
picking yourself up
and apart.
angels walk among us
and greet us with toothless smiles

to be continued................................

mom and grand,
well, mom. you've been there the longest and i know somethings have changed. but, could you please make sure he's comfortable? see, he may have friends there, but he doesn't have family there.. at least not ones he's close to, or could easily recognize. you'll know him immediately... he has a wide smile like pops, and a way with words, particularity cursing, like dad... aunt suzy will flirt with him, but keep them away from each other... The two of them could get into a lot of trouble... no matter what they say. grand, he loves music and i bet he can take you back to the days when you danced and didn't have a care in the world. watch him though, he doesn't discriminate, he loves the ladies. his birthday is sunday... two years from the day we said out last goodbyes to you grand. grand you had four girls, their mom four boys... and you know what's it's like to lose your first born at a young age... the one with promise and a mind of their own... i will take care of the youngest as he allows me to.... comforting and offering support...
great grand... i know i don't have to ask, but out of respect. as the elder, can you allow a warrior into our village? he can tell some stories now.. he'll keep you laughing... but you already know these things. just let him know he's not alone there, and we'll never allow his baby brother to be alone down here....
alright?

Poems and Such

I made revisions to the previously blogged poems (Tuesday): Superwoman Revisited and Martyrdom Revolutionized. Please let me know what you think of them. As I am making changes to the blog to post poems and prose in preperation of performances and a book. So feedback.. well, is highly requested and needed. In other words send a friend or two over for criticing and suggestions.

I'm working on two new pieces in addition to those posted. One is in the "walking around" phase. The other, well I have six lines. The next few weeks are going to be tough because we (Neo-Soul) will have themes and I'd like to not only write on the theme, but memorize the piece for performance.

I'm sending prayers and love to a couple of my friends who are going through some things. Circle. Sister. Brother. Circle. Let's connect and become infinite wisdom and love.

I had something specific I wanted to blog about today... some prose I'm working on, but time will not permit me to make the necessary changes needed... so....

Last night was great. Tonight will be greater..

You Know What Time It Is?

Attitude for Gratitude Wednesday

01. Her and crime show dramas... feeling complete.
02. Waffle House and arm licks.
03. Him. Him. Him. And his Memory.
04. Friendships. May they be life long and everlasting.
05. Big Chill Friday.
06. Forgiveness (the ability to forgive and be forgiven)
07. His power. His grace.
08. Poems. Man. Poems.
09. Fried Chicken Wednesday... Hey....
10. Trust.
11. Love
12. Cell Phones!!!!!!!
13. Smiles...... man they make a difference!

superwoman (revisited)

fallen superwoman (revisited)

she doesn't know that I see her the way
she really wants to be seen;
feel her the way she really wants to be felt;
love her the way she really wants to be loved
like I love my sisters, like I love myself....
unconditionally conditionally...
wanting all that's best
despite our missteps
and frailties,
yet
she wears victoria's secret like a masked marvel,
leaping buildings not yet constructed..
boundless(ly)
she wears explicit prose
draped ' round stiff collars
and fights demons
lurking in her shadowed
(seemingly)
controlled movements..
she
veiled in family secrets
real and imagined
not realizing she does more harm to self
than any evil villain.
I wish I could write her wrongs
color her in hues
long abandoned
in her youth...
she learned heroes
aren't people or sandwiches;
just bullshit
caught 'tween wonder bread and miracle whip.
and she
simply
a miraculous wonder
whips wishes and remains.
she
a healthy reminder for the family
to do and be more
than what falls between
the cracks in ghetto sidewalks
colored in the shade of decayed blood
spilled by those before her.
that basic color of death could never capture her
or contain her dreams which
bleed past familial lines.
there is no color for invincible..
so she uses strong blacks
to paint the woman she wants
to be (and)
everyone to see.
transparent to me
so she waits for a poem
that she doesn't want to be written,
and prays
for self redemption.
kdtaylor, 2006
section 8 coffee publishing
all rights reserved

martyrdom revolutionized

martyrdom revolutionized (because we've all been there)

she ties her shoe laces together,
daily.
falling, like failure
are similar to breathing.
without them she wouldn't feel
as if she was truly alive.
her words heavier
than any weight
or sorrow
found east of Eden
or in the bowels of hell;
and not since the fall of man
has God ever felt such betrayal.
she unknowingly curses blessings
and blesses curses.
twisted are her thoughts,
knotted like oaks.
and weakened like branches
bearing forbidden fruit.
she plucks from its emptiness,
allows life to consume her,
and devours the insanity of it all.
unable to see the truth,
she hides; not adorned in fig leaves
but cloaked in the incessant lies she chooses to tell herself
and selfishly believes.
to say I would take away her pain
is a lie.
I am a poet, not a saint.
and even they,
even they view the constraints
she places upon herself
as foolish steps toward false martyrdom.
they see through her,

they are not pleased

she will never be canonized.
I want to tell her
pick up your cross
life is not a burden;
but it can be a fight.
determine your age
not by years, but scars
of survival.
realize your humanness.
realize the path you travel in this life
is a journey that offers
so much more than
the pain you write in vibrant colors
upon thin air..
it too shall pass,
and blow with the breeze.
your tears don't give way
to cleansing rains
leading to rainbows and pots of gold.
baby.. sometimes, they are simply that, tears.
and sometimes they don't lead to healing or happy endings...
they are simply means to an end.
that black cloud you place above your head, daily
is not a halo.
it's tarnished, crooked, and a little used.
you've done your shit,
we all have.

God knows us, he knows our heart.

no matter how hard we try to deny him.
we're not angels, that's why were here.

birthed through fire.
yet, some believe birth is death
and all we got here by suicide
having choked on our mother's umbilical cords.
and the struggle from our first day to the very last
is a longing for the comfort of her womb
knowing that's as close to God as some of us will ever get.
sister, life is a gift
and sometimes it's as simple
as putting on one shoe at a time
moving one foot after the other
and if we trip..
let it be, not by our own hands
let it be because we walked thru this fire

and chose to live..

kdtaylor, 2006

section 8 coffee publications

all rights reserved

margaret r. belise

celluar key tone. 210.337.5834. quickend breath. i am afraid. what if someone answers? silence. ring. "the number or code you are dialing is incorrect." sigh of relief. heart thump. sweat forming. heartbeat. slow unsteady. beat heart. after two years, no one has her number. everything is okay. grand it has been 732 days, some hours and seconds since you've been gone. today, 09.11.06.. the world mourns. yet i am left to mourn alone. thier grief is not mine. yet, i have no tears.... in this moment. i really wish i could reach out to you. talk to you once again. some days i know the reason you are no longer with me and i can embrace it. others, i selfishly and angrily lash out, as i feel alone. believing no one understands. forgeting you, means forgetting her, her, her, and her. and i can't let go. that means i let go of me. i'll read etheridge knight before the day is over... (the idea of ancestry: " i have no sons to float in the space between..") . i remember how i would tease you with a weak impersonation of aunt thelma calling you "maug" or great grand's "ma'ga'reet" ? they're all gone now. i have no connections to home. but i miss the game: "whatisitkim?" or "is this my first grand child. my favorite?" the last year has not been as difficult as the previous. i have grown. i drink less and talk a little less. i am abandoning the name i picked up the year of your death (thirteen) i no longer feel as angry, but grand... i'm still hurt(ing). i talk less to escape but to commuicate. i need her now as much as i need you. to help me fill in the blanks. and to find the strength of your voice. i have talked less, yet people really don't care. they have thier idea. i'm learning to trust. i've stopped the phone from ringing and elimiated the "frenemies". you know the ones who believe they know, but know very little. funny, huh? the exercise of select memory. they don't know what you've always known. i am STILL the loneliest when surrounded by others and the insecurities of being "visible" eat away at me. i've never liked a lot of attention, it means you're first in line for criticism. my tongue continues to get me into trouble, but not nearly as much. grand. i've learned a bit about chosing my battles wisely, occassionally i will build and climb mole hills disguised as mountains. i still love HARD, and i still love her. i still pace when i'm nervous. my locks are longer. i'm still working on a personal relationship with god and not arguing religion. and yes, i still engage in that pensive piercing gaze listening, looking at no one, but seeing every one and thing. i keep it because that's all mom left me, besides my name. but you know this. you know that i cling to black and white fibers from a worn picture, searching for her in me. that connection was you. now you're gone. selfishly i need you to be here, on the other end of my phone line. i need you to tell me "everything is gonna be okay. grand is here. you can always come home." HOME. that word has been foreign to me for two years. maybe the rest of my life... the matrons in my village have transcended. and grand, some days i swear there are restless savages hiding behind vacant huts, waiting, plotting, my failure. i don't believe i have the strength, and on those days i need you. i need your physical self to chase them away. i need someone who understands enough to help me, even if they are figments of my imagination. so i muster the strength to stand tall and guard a village described in our million tongued tale spoken between tongue and cheek. It is a combination of our stories, told in a collective voice and it always begin with: there is a village that lies just outside my soul. where the blood of my pen and the ink of my heart connect. it flows thru my body, pump words to an ever flowing well... it is there that the matrons of my village replenish me, nurture me, protect me, guide me and sustain me thru this lifetime.. they are me, and i am we... and i have no sons to float in the space in between....

Damn Tweet. I blinked Baby!

5 Reasons Friday, September 8, 2006 was like The Big Chill (or better)!

1. Burning Bush (Earth, Wind and Fire) vs. A Whiter Shade Of Pale (Procol Harum)

2. Earth Wind & Fire vs. Motown

3. Giddings, Texas vs. Beaufort, North Carolina

4. Poets/College/Track/Hometown Buddies vs. 7 College buddies

5. 60 + preacher clearing his throat.... Laughs...

No seriously.... We had a Big Chill Friday of sorts. Very bittersweet reunion, but what a reunion it was. It felt good to be around friends and family. And everyone who was suppose to be there was there. It was good to have my bookends and pain in the butt back (B-Fran, Lovie and K.A.). We even had a funeral laugh moment despite our grief, just like the friggin movie, man.... Mo, no son, no joke, I walked away from that experience a newer person..... That gratitude list is so damn important. Friends like family, sometimes you don't always chose that shit just happens and it happens for a reason. In my meanness I have denied people because I was afraid to be hurt, but I realized Friday night, it hurts more NOT TO HAVE THEM IN MY LIFE THAN TO HAVE THEM. His parents loving my words for him and them. DAMN.... Seeing Jono... Erica being right there. Where? Right there. Looking at Michelle's beet red face as KA cracked on the preacher (during the service).. "Not that you take scores in a funeral, but Kim you mathed the preacher." Was what he said to me, Lord only knows what he said to Michelle. B's acknowledgment of his selected family during the processional... The pride and the love in his face and eyes.... Turing around to see John Crow and Chris Mike fight back laughter and share a moment... Watching my "Brothers" all of them find strength in each other. And watching Jo V. Be there for him in a way I never really gave her credit for. And she did it.... Well. And I thanked her. There are somethings a Best Friend can't do.... Even when he calls you Sister. Thank God we both knew that much. Oh my gosh, Baby Boy.. Trey, you picked the perfect song.. I could not have done it without you. Really. Thanks. Angel and Dora even David, going past their comfort level to be there for a friend. Ebony, being there for your Man. WOW. Praying Angel gets it right this time.... Ms. Jackson taking me to get "beat up". Erica bouncing Love and the look upon her face... Priceless. Chris Lee spitting my favorite piece... Herman beating me in dominoes? He beat me and talked shyt. Watching Skuddar's expression when he realized another dude had his suit on. Damn that's love. Playing dominoes and getting drunk, exposing a funeral party to poetry, listening to Tweet dj his own life's celebration..... The Big Chill didn't have shyt on us...

Blink - He's Just That Swift

blink
(for tweety)

i know a man who can run
the future to a blurred stream
of each and every yesterday.
reliving each moment
day by day, one by one;
a second, in each and every
breath of our shared lifetime.
yes, my brother is that swift.
and if you blink,
you can hear
the stutter of his excitement
as he talks about his
lightening quickness.
or the time some one challenged him
and lost...
or that time, along the milky way
when he raced comets
and hurdled stars.
or when he out ran the sun,
forcing it to kiss the moon,
and time stood still.
you'll call it an eclipse,
he'll say it was a misstep.
because, before he
left them in the dusk,
he simply wanted them all,
to momentarily share the sky
for each and every one of us to see.
his heart was that big.
sometimes bigger than his deeds.
and if you blink, you can feel the
eurhythmic beat of his heart,
the synchronized rhythm of his life.
he couldn't always explain it,
but it was a party.
he wanted each
and every one of us to dance (so)
he could spin away our sorrows
to the sway of an
Earth Wind & Fire 45.
before a tear could ever fall
he'd wipe it dry with the
melodic sound of an old 78.
if you really needed it
he'd extend the groove and play an LP.
reminding us, sometimes himself,
that we're all classics, in our own way.
and if you blink, you can see and feel
the warmth of his smile.
when his legs weren't as quick.
when it seemed he lost a few steps.
when moments in time,
were faster than we liked,
or ever wanted.
he knows the race is not always won by the swift,
but he has his father's pride
his mother's determination,
a legacy, and a name to live up to.
for him there is no end,
there is no finish line.
so he'll keep going, and going, and going.
faster than his legs could ever take him.
past our fears, past our sorrow,
past what we can ever believe, perceive or selfishly accept.
stubbornly, he will run freely;
not just in our hearts, but in our minds.
blink and you can see his essence.
blink and you can feel his presence.
blink and you'll hear his laughter.
blink and you'll snap to his beat.
blink and you will move to his rhythm
blink. blink. blink.
10.27
blink past the tears that cloud your vision
blink to catch a glimpse of him.
see, what'd I tell ya?
my brother's not gone,
man, he's just that swift...

kdtaylor, 2006
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

Attitude for Gratitude

Attitude for Gratitude Wednesdays

1. Life. I'm learning to treat you like a gift I get to open every day. Grateful and surprised at how much I enjoy it.

2. His friendship. His memory. His love. His bragging. And man was he a BRAGGART!

3. My BROTHERS' trust, granting me the honor. I will not take it lightly. I will do us proud.

4. Forgiveness. The ability to give and to be granted.

5. Circle. Sisters. Circle. Let's connect and become infinite wisdom and love. Thanks I heart u guys, too.

6. Fried chicken Wednesdays even though I didn't get a call.

7. Her and Him. Him. Her, Her and Him. Him and Her. Her.

8. A conversation with him. I miss you, you are needed. Yet, I understand.

9. A poem. Thanks. God. You did it, I just moved the pen. Or did I?

10. September's lessons.... They're difficult already.

11. Every breath. Every step. I'm growing and learning.

12. The sharing of a letter. It was an honor.

13. Faith. Like my muscles, we're getting stronger every day.

Extra added bonus - Cleaning day. Brought back some good memories. Flava of Love, 'cuz damn... just damn.

Running Everywhere

Everywhere 1.

Canklecrust needs to get another job. The door greeter act is on my last nerve. She needs to take her ass to Walmart with that mess. I don't want to see her. She's just being nosy and .. God, I know I am being judgmental and borderline evil here. Perhaps it's the weekend I had. Perhaps it just another September. Whatever it is, her incessant running to the back door like a lap dog whenever anyone comes thru it is maddening. Today, prolly worse than ever. You know. I came in late(r) than I wanted. So guilt and annoyance, which normally prompts a coffee run, this month is magnified to a deadly combination. I feel guilty because I'm late. Annoyance, you guessed it, her.. No, a combination of things. Maybe it's hurt. For close friends. And myself. Momentarily I was beside myself and wanted to ask Canklecrust if she needed a bone to fetch; or worse, some lotion, a toe file, cuticle remover and a pumice stone. That would stop her for days. I need to be quiet, my feet could use a little attention. But, I know it's mean but damn, she's white. I've never seen a white person that ashy in life.

Everywhere 2.

Swift (something I'm working on)

I know a man who can run

the future to a blurred stream

of our each and every yesterdays.

Reliving each moment.

Day by day.

One by one.

Every second in each and every breath

of our shared lifetime.

Yes, my Brother is just that swift......

Everywhere 3

I guess because I've experienced the loss of a loved one many times in my life, I believe I am one of the few, if not the ONLY PERSON in the world that knows there is a level of appropriateness. Please answer the following question.

1. When informing close friends of a close friend's unexpected demise do you?

a) call and leave the news on the answering machine.

b) send them a text message or e-mail.

c) tell them on the way out of a party when they are inebriated?

d) wait until the appropriate place and time when you can give them the news personally.

e) I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings/fill in a scenario

f) I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings/fill in a scenario

All of this happened. I kid you not. And I could go on.... I can recall two instances where it was best some one else informed me of a family member's death. Take for instance my favorite Aunt's death. Apparently my family called my apartment and told my room mate/close friend. They did not want me to know while I was at work. At the time I lived in Dallas. I worked a 2:30 pm - 11:30 pm shift and had a tendency to drive down to San Antonio after work. Which was the case in this instance, I was going home directly after work. My drunk room-mate/ EX CLOSE FRIEND called me at like 11:20 pm. I had to make the 4 hour drive alone in the middle of the night. ALONE. Struggling with my grief and loss. Can you say INSENSITIVE? My Grand's was also a little hard to swallow, because my sister and I always wanted to be the one to inform the other. Instead, my cousin, who neither of us had spoken to in years called to tell us. I remember studying the number on my caller ID trying to figure out who was calling me over and over an over again. Then hearing his voice....

Everywhere 4

Canklecrust has wobbled her ass over here AGAIN. She doesn't want anything. I'm staring at the side of several rolls of fabric, which should resemble a dress. Her mouth is moving, and I don't understand anything she's saying. Even though she's very loud and sounds like she has food in her mouth. She's talking to my cube-mate. Who, by the sighs, isn't feeling her right about now either. I mean she's not our Supervisor, and she's asking questions related to deadlines that aren't her's to meet. Damn. If that's what she needs for conversation, bless her. I feel sorry for her. I think I've said this before but she reminds me of a story I heard about a woman who taught her parrot terms of endearment (Honey, Baby, Sweetheart), just so that someone would say them to her. I need to pray.... Man, September's gonna be rough.

Everywhere 5

Mary wants to be a superwoman..

but very well,

I believe I know you very well,

wish that you knew me too,

very well

and I think I can deal with everything

going thru your head...

where were you when I needed you?

like right now?

(Variation of Stevie Wonder's Superwoman/Where Were You..)

mom... Missing you. A lot.

Everywhere 6

Cleaned a heckalot yesterday. I thought of you and Saturday morning cleanings. The clanging of pots and pans. Distinct smell of bleach, pine sol, spic and span, and well as bacon, eggs, biscuits, and grits. I listened thru Anthony Hamilton to feel the memories of the Isley Brothers, Marvin Gaye, and Betty Wright...

like mary....

When the winter came you were not around..

Through the bitter winds you could not be found

Where were you when I needed you, last winter?

You said then you'd be the life in autumn

Said you'd be the one to see the way

Where were you,

when I needed you?

Like, right now?

Right now, right now, right now?

(Variation of Stevie Wonder's Superwoman/Where were You.. and Never Dreamed You Leave ..)

Grand, I miss you...

Everywhere 7

Bills....

Everywhere 8

What does pink taste like? I think cotton candy. But cotton candy is also blue. Not pink lemonade either. ELM hates pink lemonade, because there are no such thing as pink lemons. I bet it would taste like raw chicken or pork, sometimes it's pink. I think? What do you think?

happy and honored that you made me a sister.
even more honored that i could call you brother.
keep running.. keep running...
you will be missed.
love you.