steeljetdolpants... that's all folks

close only counts in horseshoes. no matter what ANYONE says. i know could have, would have, should have. never allow the last minute or two of the game to determine the outcome. you play every minute of it. i mean how much conversation do we give the person who missed the Million dollar Lotto by one number? NONE! no one wants to hear it. so tomorrow or any day afterward, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT. do i want them to finish undefeated? "It'd be cool, but how 'bout, HELL NO!" not if it keeps them from winning the last one. and mathematically it's impossible, EVRYONE IS GOING TO BRING THIER A GAME. I mean they could lose to the Dolphins. so what do i say to the naysayers, and the water cooler coaches. "it was a great game. it had nothing to do with luck, but execution. coming out to do their best, against opponents who did their best. playing every minute as if it were their last. leaving nothing on the bench, but everything on the field. treating every down as an opportunity to learn. and when they came out on top.. they did so gracefully and humbly. and please stop describing it as a 'man-handling'. "

wonder

just thinking about you....

Weekly thanks

01) for continued guidance; even when I don't recognize it, I understand it when it's needed most.
02) for the love of family and friends.
03) music and words.
04) one hella night before thanksgiving...
05) loving my sister enough, to recognize that we couldn't spend thanksgiving together. She's going to school and working full time, she needed the break.
06) one hella thanksgiving.
07) hosting the youth slam on saturday, it was great!!!!
08) ideas....
09) my home is a happy one.
10) my friends are traveling, falling in and out of love, learning, climbing mountains, overcoming obstacles, and finding themselves. that's what keeps us close and our bonds strong.
11) my nephew will have a basketball tournament here in a week! i get to see him play all weekend.
12) another new poem..
13) so many that i can't memorize them all.

HELP WANTED

What do you do when your co-worker smells like fresh tampons? No, really, I mean she smells like feminine freshness everyday...
It sucks. I have made complaints to management; however, the issue is there are no workplace guidelines regarding get this "scents, smells, and noise?" So, truly we are to operate out of common courtesy and consideration.

Apparently, that's a lot to ask..

Maybe it's me. But what happened to class? I don't mean recess, math and science, but class. Social consciousness, in that your bank account does not have to necessarily match your belief and value system.

Since when, in a work environment, is it appropriate to apply SO MUCH perfume on that you can smell up an entire office, "FULL OF WOMEN". I truly believed that fragrance was a personal issue, unless of course you were trying to entice someone... And isn't suppose to at least smell good, nice, pleasant or anything remotely familiar? So, not only does it smell HORRIBLY, unless you're into the "whole feminine freshness thing" it's nothing that makes you want to get closer, arouse curiosity, or pleasure. It's stinkingly (there is no such a word I MADE IT UP) painful! Where do you purchase this mess?!? I mean, do you walk directly to the Macy's perfume counter?
"Excuse me, Ma'am, I'm interested in smelling like Playtex Security tampons, do have a fragrance similar to that?"
"Well, we have Kotex, but not Playtex. And if you're interested, we have a Generic Brand gift box, which includes lotion, shampoo and powder."
"Oh, great. Do you have anything that's smells like Charmin BIG ROLL?"
"Of course. However, we ran out of Charmin BIG ROLL this morning. We can't keep the "Don't Squeeze" on the shelf long enough. We do have Quilted Northern, though. How about this delightful bottle of Huggies?"

I mean WTF? Barf Bag cube 458b please.

I love my signature scents of DKNY Be Delicious and Delicious. I'd love to freshen up with the scent all day; HOWEVER 1) it lasts all day for me to enjoy it and 2) I can't afford to carry $_____ (to name the price would be pretentious) bottle of perfume around all day. But that's the difference between MY quality and HER bullshit. Where do you buy such cheap mess that you have to spray it 6 - 8 times a day? Like smelling that funky crap when you walked in wasn't enough, already. And to spray it at your desk, what's wrong with the restroom? Oh, I know, you can't smell it for ALL THE TOILET PAPER! (This is not for people who use Bath and Body Works, I know it's a tradition for you guys to spray all day. But YOUR SHIT SMELLS GOOD!)

Ugh... Fresh barf bag, cube 564a please. Yes, it's a different number because unless I want to 1) take sick leave for the remainder of the day (usually just after lunch), 2) work from home, they run up my cell bill calling all damn day long, or 3) go home at the end of the day I'll make everyone in my life miserable, I USUALLY have to FIND ANOTHER work area.

By the end of each day, I am nauseated, dizzy, and headachey. I have never considered smell to be that important, until I was forced to deal with this. I know it sounds petty, but to test yourself, purchase a cheap Airwick room deodorizer and sit it on your desk. You will understand pretty quick what I'm going through.

I'm thinking because she's old that she can't smell herself, but then I remember she's not much older than me. And that will make me not to far from old. Then I thought well maybe she can't smell it so she sprays more on... but that's an old people characteristic and that will make me not too far from old. So then, I'm thinking maybe it's a health issue, but I don't want to delve into what's she's trying to cover up or why there is a need for her to smell "springtime fresh" ALL FCUKING DAY.

I can deal with bad breath, even bad body odor, but the sticky, sickening, sweet, of fresh diapers, toilet paper and tampons just don't do it for me.

Please, if you read this, and can you offer any suggestions your assistance would be greatly appreciated! I've tried fabreeze, both aerosol and mist, an airwick fan, opening windows, an air purifier, and fans. The doors cannot be propped because of the fired psycho who threatened to shoot someone a couple of months... and they told me I could not wear surgical masks because it would be offensive.

How I spent the night before Thanksgiving

go shawty, it's ya birfday!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY KANGA!

a year wiser and younger

birthday on thanksgiving

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

BABY GIRL EBONY!!!!!!

so much to conquer, do it one day at a time!

HaPPy ThanKsgiving WorLd

Thanks before Thanksgiving

01) that i had a wonderful opportunity to chill and hang with a group of beautifully diverse women. to make new friends and gather with old ones. you'll never know how much it meant.
02) okay.. i am listening to kevin sandbloom's version of it is a crime on kazi.
03) okay, i get to see see kevin and anthony david tonight at the mahogany affair.
04) i get to WATCH Tje's last show (he opens the kevin and anthony david) before he blows the fck up... TRULY.
05) that my man herman is truly doing his thing... i mean, really, we've known him since skinny sahara...
06) that i have lived enough to experience the rewards of going back to me...
07) that i have friends that have hung in there long enough to experience the rewards of that growth.
08) that i finally had lunch with one of my girls... i never forget how much i miss you.
09) writing projects.
10) hosting the youth slam this weekend..
11) sorry angel... MY RUMOR!!!!!! i finally got a phone that i wanted and like!
12) for one hella card partner the other night. yes, ma'm i'm growing, so walking away was too damn easy!
13) g.o.d. for paving a way toward continued growth.

p.s. passion flavored rum soaked passion flavored cherries and pineapples. j.j.

p.p.s. the shade of my elm tree.

Make Me Stronger....

I am a Kanye West fan. Always have been. He has learned one of the most valuable marketing tools. Re-inventing and marketing yourself. Or something that our PARENTS should have taught us, if you don't toot your own horn who will. No, he is not the most prolific rapper of all times. Yes, his rhymes are basic and at times rudimentary. However, no denying he IS one of the best producers out there. Sure we were a little turned off at his "balking" and displays of poor sportsmanship. His arrogance borderlines narcissism. But HONESTLY, how many of us don't know this type dude? Or maybe, just maybe, he's created a stage persona that has nothing to do with WHO HE REALLY IS? I mean it was admirable to watch his anxiety and impulsiveness when he belted "George Bush doesn't care..." on National Television. I mean weren't we all waiting for someone, anyone to say ANYTHING? Mind you, we would have wanted to be a bit more poignant, yet.. It was what it was.

In the wake of his mother's death, I find people cruel and unrelenting as they discuss his breakdown at his concert in Paris during the intro to "Hey Momma." Most know my mom passed away before I entered kindergarten. It still hurts to this day, and I could never imagine the pain having her with me everyday during my trials and triumphs only to have her snatched during the prime of my life. So the cruel things people have said....

Most of us will never know what it's like to have hundreds if people depending on us for their livelihood. But what do we do after a death, we go try to put our lives back together. And we break down, and people, sometimes random strangers, try to support and help us through. Perhaps he went to the thing he loved most after his love for his mother. Music. Perhaps he thought it would take him away for a minute.

I say all this because I received a copy of the e-mail with the youtube attachment showing his breakdown. A woman cruelly stated he was doing it for attention, that he arrogantly wanted the crowd to chant his name, that his was exploiting his mother's death.

I believe as society we have gone too far... and we've forgotten about the frailty in our humanness. And I can really appreciate a man who has given us nothing but ONE SIDE OF A wall, to share just a bit of what it's like to be with him on the other side.

"COPA, We don't go out there to punt." Tom Brady.

I know it's a little fool hearted to play your starters longer and more than necessary. Don't agree with Coach B. I mean an injury could hurt us... A loss is prolly necessary... but for now, winning feels so good. Check out this year's co MVP. The MVP, his supplier, Tom Brady. BABY.
Tom never knew the high of crack cocaine until he his met this man...

whitney who...

I was looking back on some things and found this....

big thanks poppin

01) Thanks goodness for the discovery of antibiotics.. especially z-packs! I had an upper respiratory infection last week. YUCK!
02) Poet friends I can be jealous of... Damn, I missed out on Georgia Me.
03) Listening to a young artist who will be famous one day. Damn Tje.
04) A nurse and nap partner.... Ain't nothing like having someone play sick with you.
05) A card/domino partner that I know is as excited as I am about this Saturday night.
06) Friends I can be happy for and proud of. Ain't nothing like having the people around you making positive strides. TRULY... The blessing in it is that you can never be stuck if you are genuinely happy for them and can live vicariously through their successes until YOUR NEXT BIG THING HAPPENS..
07) Hanging with K.A. Sunday afternoon, even if I was under the weather. Not dismissing anyone else, but you know, he is my male mirror. Flaws and all.
08) Writing with him over the phone last night. Goof...
09) Shrek 3 and the Boy Child. Nothing like adolescent humor and gut wrenching laughs.
10) New Poems.....
11) Having too much on my plate that I can't memorize them fast enough...
12) Going to Ego's tonight... (maybe)
13) for G.O.D. and the things that happen just cuz.....

BONUS - Do your thing baby Girl with the HIP HOP EXPLOSION!!!!!

I was sick as heck...

but i fought through the fog and smoke.. i wasn't on the infamous syrup from a year or so ago, so with periodic coughing fits and other unimaginable little things sticking tightly to my lungs, i sat and listened to the Ladies of neo and Beyond represent. I really loved Ms. Jackson's hosting she was funny (partly most of my coughing fits were due to her) i only hope to see more of her hosting this year.. one poet in particular made her way back to the mic and not only was i floored by her words, but her courage. barely legal and deadly lethal (jono and brent) were in the house, i would have loved to sit and listen to the brainstorming for their pieces. our feature who stepped it up just in time did her thing.... my fondest moment aside from miss jackson's hosting was to watch my niecey fall in love with the mic again.... most tragic moment, but imma work on the brother was his excitement with getting a rewind. i wasn't too hard on him because i could breathe let alone talk after a hour or so into the show, but i want him to fall in love with hearing his own voice, not that of the crowd. damn, maybe that's my next piece.

Grateful nonetheless....

01) for a fantastic week and a half of poetry.. looking forward to so much more.
02) for re-connecting and reliving what NEO is all about... Yes Poet Fam.. we do real good.
03) for giddings and laughter, even though i was a bit under the weather.
04) for you being a shoulder i can cry on.... i've never forgotten how strong you really are.
05) for my best friend co-worker and her new endeavors... it hurts, but i'm so happy for you.
06) for a new poem
07) tomorrow's thursday...
08) for your love, and how it makes me feel...
09) for i.m.'s that help me more than you know.
10) for having friends to miss.... yes.. i'm talking about YOU and YOU and YOU
11) for some cleva mofo'ing poets from killeen (good competitive spirits)
12) road trips with you... and you're right i can't hang.
13) for a 16 year old's smile... am so happy he's finding it again.

bonus... for the best sister in the world...
bigger bonus... new england's win!
another bigger bonus... my grand's birthday yesterday.

Happy Birthday Grand......

me and my Grand.....
I am a boisterous river. I am a mountains story. I am a quiet feeling. I am a fragrant flower. I am a moonlit evening. I am a peaceful night. I am a writer's thinking. I am a wealth unfathomed. And if you don't recognize my presence, I am here. And if you don't recognize me, I am here.

jill scott (still here hidden track)

what more can i say.....

No words necessary...

watered prayers

She now knows its possible to see a mirage underwater.

Her tears flooded her heart leaving her full yet thirsty.

When her eyes close she can hear Momma

"Don't need nobody to make you a woman. You'll be strong when you can stand alone."

Alone she whispers.

Momma no longer here to hear the melody in her words never matched the cadence of her heart.

Timing always off.

Tunes didn't align.

Never expected this journey would be cloying.

Abundance of sentience depreciated her meter for precariousness.

Yet she is afraid of not trying.

Past through then passed thru rough terrains in affairs land.

Drowned again.

Valuables forfeited.

Lessons benighted made the voyage wayward.

Ignored the villages along the way.

Guided by hopes of a lunar wonderland.

Stars aren't that shiny.

Resisting the sweetness in her own image yet succumbed to reality.

In love with love.

Failed driving endeavors caused her to fly.

Never solo or so low the only mission.

Navigation's were random,

contingent on current

circumstance or happenstance and costly.

She makes a futile attempt

to use the chest of her soul-mate

to burrow her sorrows.

Baggage from all lifes journey to heavy.

She hears mommas voice.

She opens her eyes she is alone.

Life is still.The moon doesn't shine.

She is frantically seeking security.

Arms stretched she cries out: " Father GOD. Prince of Peace. Wonderful Counselor. I seek only thee to guide me. For I have fumbled this journey by straying from your path. I beg that you encompass my soul broken and faithful.I am your servant.I confess my love for thee and I long to hear you speaking. Oh Father, I Thank you. I come to you on bended knee. I have not had this journey alone. Whether the end be near or far ,Thy will be done.I am ready/willing/able to see. I have failed you and become lost by not loving me. AMEN"

thanks a lot.

01) g.o.d. for the direction i am continuing to be pushed in.... it is definitely good and orderly.

02) for having friends to miss. it was good seeing the two of you last night, even if we weren't sitting together talking. i'm getting fat so we have to lay off the chicken.

03) for hearing the excitement in your voice as you talk about the opportunities and experiences you've had over the last few months. i am soooooo happy for you, afro and all.

04) for a ride to killeen with an "old" friend. thank g.o.d. we never miss a beat or lose a single minute when we are apart.

05) for personal growth. i could never experience and learn from this moment without it.

06) for those beautifully strong penny colored hands that g.o.d. that have learned to hold me when i need them most.

07) for fear, it keeps me one step ahead of the race.

08) for love of family and friends that keep me in the race.

09) the ability to read the and in between the lines. what a clear story!

10) my sister.... if i could be born tomorrow, i would pick her as my mother.

11) mary... her new shoes look good....

12) the recipe. i'm looking forward to it.

13) an idea shared with a true friend. i wonder if it could be a reality!

bonus.... continuing to live by the book of angie.... it's been hella fun!

Crown Royal on Ice.....

Angie, Jill, ME(CHEEZING!), and THE Diva E

I was just thinking about......

Yes.... Sorry. New picture. Will post the one we took with her soon.... Yes...

What You Know 'Bout Me! One Down One To Go!

CONGRATULATIONS TO THE WORLD CHAMPION RED SOX

Manny and David

Thankfully Taking a Page out of the Book of Angie...

01) The opportunity to stand DIRECTLY in front of Jill Scott during the invitation only concert in Houston last night.
02) Getting there early enough to hear the sound check, and watching Jill walk directly past me. As she walked through us, she said "hello."
03) Getting extra tickets and drinking the hell out of the Carmel Appletini's.
04) Getting a copy of the show's playlist.
05) Our third year seeing Jillio together.... Our FIRST TRUE DATE WAS A JILL SCOTT CONCERT.
06) Okay.... it get's better...Getting a VIP PASS to hang out with JILL AND HER BAND.
07) Only better... A PHOTO WITH JILL to be published in Envy Magazine.
08) BETTER THAN EVER... Reminded her that I saw her in Dallas before the National Poetry Slam. She asked how'd we do, and then get this, she said, "that's right I told you to get them with your words and not performance." she did remember. SHE PROBABLY SAYS THAT TO ALL THE POETS BUT SHE SAID IT TO ME LAST NIGHT.
09) Hanging with angie, and listening to her crack up dang near the entire lobby before the show.
10) Making it there and back safely!
11) A new poem, and a new one memorized.
13) G.O.D. because without it, well, to live without it is truly tragic.

BONUS: For G.O.D., ELM and Angie making sure I got to realize YET ANOTHER dream....

COLOR CHANGE

IN HONOR OF THE RED SOX and THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS! Colors will change after WE WIN THE WORLD SERIES AND THE SUPERBOWL!!!!!!!

Just SOME Thoughts

Okay so, last night I was doing some research for a poem. I needed to look up the passage in Revelations regarding Jesus's re-appearance. For those unfamiliar with the Bible, remember the motion picture Malcolm X? If you do, think of the scene while in he was in prison and was referred to as Satan.

Any who... I won't go into the discussion regarding his color, however, if we were to consider his birth land. And we know Africa is the birth of all civilization? So... if nothing else, we know he's not AMERICAN.

Most argue that the text used to justify that he is in fact black fails to consider that after woolly there is a reference to his hair being as white as snow. And when discussing his feet as bronze, most fail to include that there is a reference to "burning" which some argue that they could have been burned "white" as in most metals and coal tend to do. So my question is why couldn't he had been an brother who's hair turned gray? And maybe he was a little ashy? Okay the ashy part may or may not be funny depending on how you live your life.

I mean think about what your mom or grandmother would tell you about her gray hair? That it either came from you or wisdom. And if Jesus lived and died for all of our sins, well.... wouldn't his hair be a little gray? I mean, if I think about the worry that I possibly cause him. What would the weight of the world do?

I'm just saying. Now mind you this is not anything to say Jesus is black, white, green, or blue. I mean, believe in what you believe in as long as it gives you: peace, hope, and a reason to live accordingly. You know?

But I thought it was worth a chuckle.

Additionally I began to think about why people turn to G.O.D. when they become older, and it has nothing to do with preparing to die or trying to make peace with G.O.D. I think it's just we get tired of listening to and following our own or others bad advice, and we simply look for answers outside ourselves. That quest becomes spiritual, and in some people it leads them back or to Church. I was reared in the Church. Matter of fact, we were in Church so much we PLAYED CHURCH. How do you play church? You mimic church members, the choir and the Pastor. You already know who I was, 'cuz I am who I am.. either the Pastor or the woman who got happy. HAHAHAHAHA...

Yea okay. Too much information....

salama....

HATE ON US HATERS.. NOW OR LATER!

You know, the media's crying because Brady and the Pats ran up the score. My response to that.. Learn how to PLAY THE GAME!

And to keep it strictly MASSACHUSETTS... The SOX ARE IN THE SERIES.... THE YANKEES SUCK ROCKS!

No, I am not from New England, but I do so want to retire there... I've loved that part of the world all my life.... And to all the JUMP ON THE WAGON COLT and COLORADO ROCKIES fans... BRING IT ON!

The Bastardization of Poetry

I wish...
we could go back to the words,
"in the beginning".
before claps, snaps, ohh's, awes and applause.
when the mic
was simply
a release,
a vessel,
an alter,
in which to sacrifice our sorrows.
when poetry was a testament to life,
a gift from the g.o.d.s
and the answers were sought NOT in how you moved the crowd,
but how you humbly allowed the crowd to move you.
emotions tumbled from your lips
clinging desperately onto the ears of the person who needed it the most.
i want to go back before rewinds, stop watches, and time penalties.
before the construction of ego's tore down what our soul feasted upon.

Just Plain Grateful.

01) Thank G.O.D. for the gift of clarity. I can see so much right now, and am definitely feeling the view.
02) For the realization that I have grown past a lot of past hurt, pain and resentments. I can't choke or burn and I am REALLY OKAY with it.
03) Haiku's. Even if I'm the only one who gets them. They made me laugh.
04) Which wich and catching up. Thanks for always being beautifully you. And you do it so well. I can call you sister forever. And the sleeve is ABSOfckingLUTELY HOT!
05) For refocusing and redirecting. And you know what? I am SO STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU!
06) Fingers in locks, fingers interlocked.
07) Beautiful brown eyes that smile when you talk.
08) No matter what the hell goes on around me, I got my eyes on the prize. ME, YOU and OUR FUTURE.
09) For my middle finding the love she truly deserves.
10) For my "niece" finding the strength we all knew she had.
11) For the surprise invitation. Thanks for helping us keep a tradition.
12) Beautiful music created upon the winds of change. May I continue to be an instrument.
13) g.o.d.

favorite time of the year!!!!!

a leaf fell on my head today!

thanks through musical expression!

01) Songs in the Key of Life (Stevie Wonder 1976)

02) Off The Wall (Michael Jackson 1979)

03) 1999 (Prince 1983)

04) Cookie: The Anthropological Mixtape (Me'shell Ndegeocello 2002)

05) Street Songs (Rick James 1981)

06) Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite (Maxwell 1996)

07) Soul Catcher (Olu 1999)

08) Wild Seed Wild Flower (Dionne Farris 1994)

09) Love Jones Soundtrack (Various Artists 1997)

10) AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted (Ice Cube 1990)

11) The Chronic (Dr. Dre 1992)

12) Who Is Jill Scott: Words and Sounds Volume 1 (Jill Scott 2000)

13) Baduism (Erykah Badu 1997)

Extra Special Bonus (Red Star Sounds Vol. 1 Various Artist 2001 and The Song Lives On Joe Sample and Lalah Hathaway 1999)

If you know the cd's then you know why.....

reports

Kim Rose's John....
I prayed for a week.
simply dropped to my knees,
in utter defeat,
unable to speak.
unable to rescue
my fleeting sanity
fading into
a sea of voices
I did not recognize
as my own.
or if they were,
I simply could not
muster the strength to control
them.
reality’s been grappling
my weakened conscious.
and night mare’s have
seized my waking hours.
a month ago
the moon handcuffed the sun,
imprisoned the moon
and barred the stars.
I’m lost in eternal darkness.
wandering
in grayed confusion,
cloaked in my subconscious oblivion.
last night the weight of the clouds,
cracked the earth’s surface,
and my world,
came tumbling down upon me
one after one painful mistake
at a time.
gathering what I could,
slicing hands,
palming pasts,
i thrust bloodied
jagged memories into
my pocket
hoping to g.o.d
that on the day we meet
he would provided the
good ones,
the missing ones...
which never allowed me to feel complete.
once searching for desperate comfort
I grasp the tail of a comet
flying over head.
but
the cold burn didn’t allow me
to hold on.
unable to withstand
the heat,
the rush,
or the pressure.
I simply let go.
however,
I can never forget the taste of
heaven’s due,
the breeze of fluttering angel’s wings,
and the warmth of happiness's glow
which rushed through me like
sand from a cracked hour glass.
we're unable to capture this moment
or this lifetime.
so I continue to search,
with my head hung low,
hunched back,
insecure gape,
mumbling undecipherable mantras
my eyes pushed upward,
rolled in my head,
seeing my thoughts
before they're spoken.
insanity is stalking my reason
and like a jealous lover,
it’s peeking ‘round corners,
hiding in the shadows.
making accusations,
arousing suspicion
frequently calling,
panting heavily into phone lines
I don’t have.
and i can't stop the mysterious
ringing hysterically in my ears,
even after I answer.
I feel its death's breaths
slipping through my fingers.
So I force my hands deep
into my jean pockets
hoping to suffocate them.
my booking papers in the right,
my hands
frantically clinging
to the lint and thread in the left.
you see,
that’s all that’s holding me together.
my jeans are holier than any biblical texts
as they recite the beatitudes with each step...
blessed are the poor in spirit
they scream..
I can feel the cool of
your judgment chill my bones.
and for a moment,
I silence the voices
sliding down my cheeks,
as I fall to my knees,
hear the snap of the break.
I prayed for a week
until they found me.
man made halo,
six feet in length
quarter inch knot.
my mind the alter
my body the sacrifice
g.o.d i offer myself to thee
and the voices cried upon the wind
"I will rescue him; I will protect him."


kdtaylor, 2007
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

My coworker and best buddy (we now share an office space)had an assignment to read the death reports of persons who committed suicide this past quarter. The deceased were recent releases from state funded mental health programs. one evening after work, she cried as she read me an autopsy report. she then looked over and asked me to write a poem. this was a difficult one as it hit a little too close to home. currently it's just in the just finished phase, no re-write, no clean up. like me in this moment, the piece is raw....

Kindred Women

Beloved, you are my sister, you are my daughter, you are my face; you are me. Toni Morrison

As a woman, particularly a woman of color, I have, like so many others had difficulty developing friendships with women. I don't mean casual relationships, but true life-long relationships based upon mutual honesty, respect and trust.

We've all had negative experiences since childhood ranging from African American/black culture taboos relating to the texture of our hair, color complexities, standards of beauty, popularity and intelligence. Often, we were "pitted" against one another because there seemed to never be enough. And as we grew older experiences with lovers and job opportunities would further deepen our infectious wombs. However, we seldom if ever made a conscious effort to look inward toward our problems.

I had a sister friend a few years ago who often exclaimed "I don't do women." All the while professing that I was one of her closet friends. As the years progressed, I realized that Kenya did not only, not do women; she did not DO HERSELF. It is not my desire to complete a moral inventory upon her; however, the sister had major father, esteem, and social issues, SQUARED! She preferred to date African or Caribbean men. Who, she believed, represented the "epitome" of a man. "They have not been emasculated and molded into a submissively weak sky-blue (mixture of blue and white) collar wearing thuggish wannabe by the American culture, media, socialization, and politics," she would say over and over again. An idea I could agree with in some ways. Kenya also believed every woman who wore their hair in the natural state was an embarrassment. Mind you, I discussed in great detail my decision to transition from chemicals to natural hair styles with her almost daily. She believed every bi or lesbian female wanted to be with her and every heterosexual female in the office wanted to be her or hated on her. That most of the men in the office were her friends, because they simply "understood" her and knew that she was woman of substance. Not like those 'hoes in the office that wanted to gossip about her because they were all so close. Needless to say her exclamation, "I don't do women" became my reality. There were no other issues: 1) I didn't want her. 2) Didn't want to be her. 3) Wasn't jealous of her. 4) Didn't want to be her man. 5) Was supportive and encouraging in all of her dreams and desires. and 6) Didn't disclose her "business" . In other words, I was a friend. Even when she wasn't a friend to me. In the end, she would no longer "do me" behind of all things, a vaccuum cleaner. However, I was mature enough to recognize, that I was a sister friend who brought little if any conflict or drama. That proved to be too much.

Kenya is one of many cautionary tales. We've all been there. The most recent occurred in my office with a woman (un)affectionately known as (ICE) Princess. The Ice Princess shared many of Kenya's characteristics. Like Kenya, I had no desire to be friend with her, I was simply corgial. And my politeness rolled into frequent conversation and, once again, I wandered aimlessly into the well known land of "I Don't Do Women" acquaintanceship. In this case, I decided to keep it pretty simple, and it would never, in any way go beyond the office and business trips. Which worked until I got a promotion. The one she didn't want.

My developmental years were spent with my Great Grand. When you are reared by old people you learn a lot, fast. One of which is who you are. Not may people can say they had a relationship, let alone spent the first eleven years of their life with a Great Grand parent. Secondly, when you are able to hear first hand the TRUE STRUGGLE of our people. My Great Grand and her siblings were people who were able to corroborate my history and government class readings, even the two weeks of "black history" I received every February. The only time you learned about your history if you were reared in the "Southern Slave" states. They were all slave States. I also learned about the brutality and it's impact upon the black family which is the root of our economic and social issues. I digress. I learned quickly not to carry unnecessarty shame, because you know what real shame is. You learn to be comfortable with who you are REGARDLESS of sexual orientation, socio-economic status, level of education, and believe it or not looks. It's what you receive during those developmental years that makes or breaks you as a woman.

I've had friends throughout my life who were taught that make up, hair, clothes and shoes made them beautiful. These are the same women who would not be caught without some horse's tail hanging from their heads, along with half the MAC counter all the while not purchasing their children clothes and other essentials. Or they are planting that same poisonous seed in their child's mind. Let me tell you this, my ass is ALWAYS FLY in my gay white man t-shirts or button downs, blue jeans and matching sandals or flip flops. Let me re-iterate, my ass is always fly. I'm not trying to compete with another sister. My standard of beauty is what have I looked like when I felt the most beautiful? I've peeped Nikki's pics, she's a beautiful woman. Eb is cute as she can be with her little Chocolate Stassney Barbie Butt. Angel is rocking the hell out of her 'fro and cute ass outfits. Shelle is beautiful with her curly locks. Joey got the Kotalian thing on lock. My girl does her thing with each and every one of her color choices in hair and clothes. Tee Tee with her beautiful locks and colorful tattoo sleeve. And I could go on and on..

I say all of this because I had a card/domino party at the house on Saturday night. There were women from all walks of like. A New York Puerto Rican who works like a Jamaican. A Caucasian sister who loves nothing but chocolate. A beautiful bi-racial sister who embraces both her cultures. A sister who prolly lives more of a white experience than any white woman I know. There were natural little 'fros, locks, weaves, braids, perms, dyed blondes with black roots. And we had FUN!!! We talked, ate, talked shit, laughed and most of all learned. And it was a wonderful experience.

Thank G.O.D. I am learning to not only do women, but be a woman, contiue to appreciate the beauty of our differences and trust women. Because I am a beautiful, trustworthy woman who can embrace the spectrum of our difference and never for one second QUESTION WHO I AM.

until we meet again. salama...

Gratitude For What The Years have Taught Me

01) Grateful that i don't have to go next door or down the street to borrow a cup of sugar or a stick of butter from Miss So and So.

02) Grateful that i don't have to clutch a "gently borrowed aka stolen from my aunt" brown food stamp (the equivalent of a dollar bill) to buy ten pieces of penny candy to get coin change for the candy lady. (Don't act like I was the only one! Besides her candy was cheaper. And if you're talking about the food stamp, you know you had them either way, cuz your grandmother or momma always wanted to help out Miss Such and Such!)

03) Grateful that i don't have to hear the crunch of thick plastic or feel the sticky sweat dripping down the back of my legs when i stand up after sitting on my sofa. (Don't act like I was the only one!)

04) Grateful that i don't have to go outside and "hose down" the chiller system to cool my house. a chiller system/water cooler was a form of air conditioning, you had to run water over the coils when they dried.

05) Grateful that i don't have to go down the street to the candy lady for a strawberry ice cup, 'cuz i didn't have enough money for the snow cone truck.

06) Grateful that when i did have enough money for the snow cone truck, i don't have to get a cherry twin popsicle and share with my cousin 'cuz he didn't have any money.

07) Grateful that i don't have to get used Levi Garrett snuff placed on wasp stings, "dog mange" in my hair or some other homemade concoction placed anywhere near my body when I don't feel well. (Don't act like it was just me!)

08) Grateful that i don't have to go inside when the street lights come on.

09) Grateful that i don't have to sit still like a little lady when i dress up.

10) Grateful that i don't have to sit on the hard floor for what seemed like forever getting my hair braided or pressed every saturday night.

11) Grateful that i don't have to close the refrigerator door 'cuz "the content ain't gone talk no time soon and they're not gonna change no matter how long you stare at it!".

12) Grateful that if i want a hamburger, it don't have to have a home made one on toasted wonder bread with the crust torn off! (Don't act like i was the only one!)

13) Grateful I don't have to come in the other room to change the channel, get a glass of water, or bring me_____, a million times when my favorite show was on tv!

BONUS: Grateful that i don't have to hear, "you need to go in there and study, you don't have the hands or the body to do any hard work, and you to damn scary to be a criminal."

EXTRA BONUS: Grateful that i don't have to eat government grilled cheese sandwiches or that oily ass peanut butter on crackers for snacks while sitting on the floor at my cousin's watching project terror. (don't act like that grilled cheese wasn't good!)

SPECIAL EXTRA BONUS: Grateful that in Elementary School when the Wiseman twins and their friends wanted to beat up Ronnie and Leslie Johnson on the way home after school, I saw the first can come flying down the hill and heard the bottle break in the middle of the street. It was the beginning of an illustrious career through high school as a sprinter. I became one of the fastest runners in our neighborhood and at the time of graduation I was ranked 6th in class 5A (big schools) hurdles and a member of 400 and 800 meter relays both top 10 in the Great State of Texas BABY! No I went to college for volleyball and academics (that not working hard thing stuck!)

I loved my childhood. No matter how difficult or painful it may have been at times. I lost so many family members because I grew up with my great grand and her siblings from age five to eleven. I was always around old people and oh my gosh the wealth of knowledge and pride you obtain from that experience. After my great grand died, I couldn't wait to be an adult because my childhood just wasn't the same.. I am eternally grateful for these bitter sweet lessons of gratitude. I'm happy that I don't have to do these things anymore. I was a good student and I paid attention to my village's lessons. But man these are some DAMN good memories. They taught me so much about life. I guess what I am most thankful for today is: my great grand, grand, and aunts who taught me to want and to do better! And my mother's memory, Mom, just can't bear to let you or the name you so thoughtfully gave me down. Today I pray that anyone who reads this or shares it with another human being embraces their past, and makes a commitment to just do and be better.

'til we meet again. salama.

last gratitude of September 2007

When you can't find your own, you use someone else's. Gratitude from the good book and others....

I fell once, will do so again, thanks for the strength and fortitude to get the F' up!

01) If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you. Mathew 10:13. Thanks, for allowing the peace to return.

02) Shake off your dust; rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem. Free yourself from the chains on your neck, O captive Daughter of Zion. Isaiah 52:2. Thanks for the cleansing. I feel lighter.

03) I thought to myself, "Look, I have grown and increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much of wisdom and knowledge." Then I applied myself to the understanding of wisdom, and also of madness and folly, but I learned that this, too, is a chasing after the wind. Ecclesiastes 1:16-17. I will never understand everything in it's entirety, and trying to do so will drive me insane. It simply cannot be done. And that's perfectly okay.

04) Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work Ecclesiastes 4:9. Love ya much.

05) If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up. Ecclesiastes 4:10 Thanks for calling me friend. Thanks for letting me know I am never alone.

06) Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking lies. Psalms 34:13. What a good time I'm having staying in my own lane.

07) I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me. Psalms 3:5. Thanks for every breath, every step.

08) Listen, O heavens, and I will speak; hear, O earth, the words of my mouth. Deuteronomy 32:1. Thank G.O.D. for Thursdays and Poetry.

09) Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past.... Deuteronomy 32:7. My Village and those we've lost this September.

10) Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions. Dalai Lama taking control of my life this month has never been so rewarding.

11) "You can't think how I depend on you, and when you're not there the color goes out of my life." Victoria Woolf My sister and I turning another corner, strengthening our bond. As great Grand always said, "in the end, you're all I have." It doesn't hurt that I have the best niece and nephew in the whole world!

12) "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." Aldous Huxley thank u crown royal on ice for the sneak peak! thank you for the cd surprise! my little green monster.... yes angel, how the hell did I go witout one for soooooo lonnnnggggg.

13) There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. Albert Einstein G.O.D. family and friends, thanks for being patient and kind as I continue to move toward clarity.

As Angie Says THE FREENESS!

You can listen to Jagged Edge (HOT!!!), yet an exceptionally short CD (38.5 minutes or so) as well as Keisha Cole on BET transmissions and listen up.

Jill Scott The Real Thing: Words and Sounds Volume 3

By now, every sister who believes she has a multitude of frenemies has banged the "sister with an attitude anthem of the summer" Hate on Me, by multi platinum performance artist extraordinaire Jill Scott. I wasn't exceptionally impressed with the song, but I needed Jill to give me something, after the dismal and disappointing, Collaborations released last Spring. Hate on Me, is simply a catchy play ground tune, and pales in comparison to the third installment of her Words and Sounds series.

The Real Thing: Words and Sounds Volume 3, is an excursion into a poet, singer, songwriter's soul, innermost beauty, and painful break-up with husband Lyzel Williams. I have not been moved by a collection of emotions on a single album, since Me shell N'degeOcello's Bitter.

The intro, Let It Be, gives us a sample of the beauty and strength of her voice. As a poet we all know retorts, "she feels trapped in a box", Jill, too, proclaims she and her music are universal, and to just ".. whatever it is, let it be."

The melodic rock influenced mid-tempo title track, The Real Thing, is fantastic, ".... when you're lost, and need some focus. Come see me." Although she sells herself short with some lines "like Cleopatra Jones, I can set your straight" the song in itself is really good.

But, when she gets into what she does best, ballads. You want more. Come See Me, My Love, How's It Make You Feel, Insomnia, and Whenever You're Around we find Jill at her best, vulnerable and honest. And every woman's questionable desire "Wanna Be Loved" is a smooth request.

How's it Make You Feel, should clearly be a sister's mantra. Questioning every person who takes black women for granted. She questions "how would if feel if every black female in the world disappears..... No brown sugar on your cocoa." Hauntingly beautiful and moving. She doesn't provide answers, just questions.

On Epiphany, we find her sultry clear voice, rapping to a what appears to be a ?uestlove drum beat, with a nice riff in the back ground. Her voice, pure and sensual. Pay attention to the words, as it is true poetry. Would love a remix with the Roots or Common. Crown Royal, along the same lines, has a smooth beat, very poetic. Both songs are equally erotic, if you are able to follow the words. Excellent word play.

As usual, there are a couple of bonus tracks. Look for Imagination/Crown Royal Suite.

For those of us that have been thirsty for TRUE JILL, this is a must have. She has matured as an artist and as a woman. We are able to experience true artistic emotion void of radio catch phrases, vulgarity, and insulting sexual visuals. Instead, we find Neo-Soul at it's best, lyrically rhythmical. You won't find this music on the radio. As a matter of fact, true fans will be GRATEFUL that she does not get any air play, as it would be an insult to sandwich her between "Crank Dat" and "Bed".

Jill Scott, along with Queen Latifah aka Dana Owens's Trav'lin' Light a second foray into the realm of jazz, soul, and blues as well as the incomparable Me shell N'degeOcello's The World Has Made Me the Man of My Dreams will all be released on September 25, 2007. Go out and support the sisters.

Check out VH1.com's The Leak to listen to The Real thing: Words and Sounds Volume 3, in it's entirety.

Friday

Last night was fanfingtastic. ALOT of good new poetry. Angel you missed baby girl's new piece. It was fiyah! I was PROUD for both of us. Sandbloom was great! I'm holla'ing at you Baby Boy, "CROWN ROYAL ON ICE!!!!"

Thankful on a Thursday? How about a hell ya!

This has been probably one of the most HEALING SEPTEMBERS EVER! And I'm topping it off with a card and domino party at the end of the month. It's all women for a couple of reasons, most important:
01) Celebrating our sameness and differences
02) And of course my Village.

Anyway, yesterday we went to San Antonio to visit my grandfather. It was soooooooo f'ing cool. As I've grown up (significantly this last year) I recognize the importance of roots. Often I act as if I don't have or want any. I do. And I've found it out more this year as I've moved past my hurt and self loathing. (A year ago, I would have never admitted that!) Anyway, my Grandfather met ELM and they literally talked damn near all afternoon. My aunt, my mother's younger sister, now resides in my Grand's home/my childhood home. She's made changes, yet it had the same feel, and we talked about my Grand for hours. That was healing in itself. I mean, I had people who KNEW her to talk to. We laughed, swallowed tears, and just fcking remembered. And for the first time in a long time, it hurt good. Don't get me wrong, I STILL MISS MY GRAND. But it was different. I had all types of strange dreams about her and the house last night, AND I didn't wake up sad or indifferent. I woke up feeling like I missed her, and she was just a whisper away.

I had dinner with the Fellowship of the Wangs last evening, and that, well, it was what is always is: A FCKING BLAST. Man, I truly love the way you guys love me and all my BULLSH..... Thanks for everything each and every time. I truly appreciate how you're always willing to keep me honest. EVEN WHEN I SWEAR I ALREADY AM. You just make me see things in a different light.

Not like everything is coming up roses in my life. I still get pricked, yet, it doesn't stop me from picking 'em.

So, thus far my lessons of September 2007..

01) ELM (and the Twig) - Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you. Where you go, I will go; where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die — there will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you.”

02) STINK (my younger sister, niece and nephew) - For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.

03) Angel/Chucks-Veedubs/Copa/Eb/Joey/Mo/TeeTee - Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. You guys already know individually and collectively I have worked f'ing hard to make sure that we would always be cool, and I'm glad that nothing changed, you trusted my word and i trusted yours. and in some cases, when things look f'd up, we came to each other to make sure there'd never be any misunderstandings.

04) Brian/Chelle/Sarah - God will have a humble people. Either we can choose to be humble or we can be compelled to be humble. . . . We can choose to humble ourselves by conquering enmity toward our brothers and sisters, esteeming them as ourselves, and lifting them as high or higher than we are. (I am now humble. And I pray that one day we can rebuild, I have moved past my offenses, and pray that I can be forgiven for mine.)

05) June/Herman - Cherish your visions and your dreams, as they are the children of your soul; the blueprints of your ultimate achievements. (thank you for helping me find myself!)

06) my village - A hundred men may make an encampment, but it takes a woman to make a home. (you may not be here, but you're always in my heart....)

these are prolly the most significant lessons, since these are the people most are familiar with. I included my sister, because every once in a while she reads my blog, and I don;t want her to think anything, even though I know she won't. just covering my ass.

Gratefully Yours...

01) ELM.... I guess we are truly meant to be. I mean, what else can we survive together? I love you.

02) You wanting to me to meet everyone important in your life. It makes me feel so important. I love you. Friends from this to the next.

03) Yes, I believe in you and always will. I tease you and call you the mini me, but YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT! You already know....

04) Veedubs, chucks, and basketball and your soon to be wife. Just happy we made it pass and through it all. Feels good to have you back in my life.

05) My card and domino partner, DAMN I wish we could get it right in every other aspect. 'Cuz, hell, you're just not suppose to do that type of damage without connecting on so many other levels. I pray we start over, and find out what that connection truly is.

06) COPA. WHAT! thanks for delivering the other woman in my life. hahahahahahaha And yes, you better get your butt back soon. (MUYAH)

07) Those who took off to New York, miss you and do it real big!

08) My best work buddy, I don't know how I get by in life or work without you. Seems we've known each other forever.

09) I GET TO SEE MY PAW-RAN TODAY!!! He was suppose to come to Austin, but my Aunt took him to Corpus for his birthday, so we're driving home today.

10) For spending a few hours on Saturday with my sister watching my nephew play basketball. I loved it. I miss my younger sister sooooo much, so these little weekend things are starting to give me so much more energy.

11) For Mary, my Mustang. She just WOULDN'T LET ME TRADE HER IN ON SATURDAY. (yes, Mom, I know, we can't part yet.)

12) For macaroni and cheese made from love.

13) For the birthday girl, for those who witnessed it, YOU BETTER NEVER SAY I'M QUIRKY!!!!

Bonus - Kevin Sandbloom and Poetry tomorrow tonight!!!! Looking forward to it.
PS BONUS - an e-mail exchange to an old friend.
BONUS BONUS - Jill Scott, I'm Still Here..

Happy Birthday Joan and Paw-ran!

Happy Birthday Joan, my locked sister girl!!!

Happy Birthday Charles E. Belisle.. My Grandfather

what did i do to deserve this?

THANKS COPA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Missing Grand and Wishing Tweet a Happy Birthday!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

ELTON RAY FRANCIS (TWEETY)

Grand, today was the last day i had an opportunity to see you in the beautiful costume God and the Angels prepared for you on your journey on this plane. As our song states, even if i don't recognize your presence, you're still here. miss you, love you.

i am afraid to dial your number. your number is still programed in my phone. if someone answers, i am not sure if i can handle it. am too afraid. so, i'll leave it alone. last week the world mourned. i didn't mourn alone this time, a few people checked on me, prolly more had me in their hearts, but my exterior continues to keep them at bay. i'm trying to let go of the thick shell, i NOW KNOW I AM MY WORST ENEMY AND CRITIC! yet i chose to mourn alone.

ANYWAY a post from 9/11/06
their 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. forgetting 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 communicate. 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 eliminated 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 choosing my battles wisely, occasionally 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....

p.s. i'm listening to jill scott.... tell me how you feel if i was gone.... if there's no me there's no you.

weekend..

I WISH THERE WAS MORE TIME IN THEM. THIS WEEKEND WAS BUSY AND HELLACOOL.

fridays in state government!

my coworker and best work buddy gave me a stability ball to use as a chair at work. now, most days we have contests trying to see who can balance the longest. i'm winning, i sat balanced on the ball for over 8 minutes. your tax money is really coming in handy! well, at least during lunch!

Don't Nobody Know......

i can smell the sweetness
of goodbyes in the innocence
of a kiss;
or a whispered hello
riding the waves of uncertainty.
i recognize that every
beginning is inevitably
an ending.
not because i live to die,
i‘m just dying to live.
dying to be free.
dying to realize my dreams.
dying to shed the skin i’m in.
dying to bleach my reddish brown
tinted pigmentation to become invisible.
dying to move forward.
dying with each and every
misstep,
mistakenly taken
for granted as foot steps.
‘cuz most days,
well most days
i’m standing still.
rooted in duplicity
dying two lives,
living two deaths.
neither of which fulfill
or sustain me.
at night
i live that of a poet
hiding behind verse
and verbs
dying to live for words
to build character,
create a subtext; or
at least be the predicate
proceeding the subject
of the self imposed run on sentence
oft referred to as a life that makes no sense.
i want to start at the end
but, it to has to begin.
and often,
i’m afraid to sit in silence
‘cuz i’m not sure if I’m alive
or dead.
if i'm simply the pregnant pause
connecting one sentence
to another.
and what, well,
what if i’m truly living
and this,
shit this is as good as it gets?
or if in fact,
i'm not living 'til death,
but dying 'til birth?
or if in fact,
i’m a blink in another’s eye,
an afterthought in another’s mind,
a dream she can’t wake from,
or a nightmare he has no escape of?
and what will be the words uttered on
the last day of my birth
or in first gasp of my death?
remember i’m dying to live.
dying to shed the skin I’m in.
dying to make it to the beginning.
dying to make it back to the womb.
living to die a death worth dying.
and begging
that each and every time
i fall to my knees,
either in prayer or defeat,
that those imprints are heavier than any steps
i could have made while on my feet,
‘cuz i want to be humbled......
kdtaylor, 2007
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

2nd thanks....

01) surviving another 11th.
02) my little green monster!
03) shorter days and longer nights!
04) the rain... my gosh it finally washed away the mold and my headache.
05) catching up with you, i miss you too, magnolia!
06) fellowship of the wings!
07) i.m's that make me laugh so hard I forget I'm at work.
08) getting to see my grandfather!
09) a friend who really doesn't need my input, but bounces ideas and thoughts off me anyway.
10) that the spirit fingers and red hair make her happy!
11) that you got it off your chest. and i loved the short shorts. but does he know you left the house like that?
12) that she is blossoming even though she thinks I don't care, and am angry. I may not comment, but I've been reading. Find your place in this world and be happy in it. And I couldn't be happier for you. REALLY!
13) everyone is writing and it's fiyah. been loving the poems and posts.

bonus: EVERYONE. thanks for being POSITIVE lessons that i learn from. my exterior cannot express what you've done for the internal.

extra bonus: i once spied forever in the brown of your eyes, and i never wanted to look away. i still don't. love you.

Moment of Silence. 2

The nation was mourning, and I was trying desperately to avoid bad news. Flipping channels mindlessly, I allow the television to chose what it wants to watch. I wanted only to avoid the images that burned deeply in my mind, reminders of the tragic event which occurred September 11. Only to have my world torn a part three years later. I lost my tower of strength...

Margaret R. Belisle

What am I to do?
Now that words seemingly wish

to cease to flow from my lips.
time has eluded me,

and every moment we have spent together
has come to this single space in time
when I have to let go,
have faith

and believe

that everything is exactly
the way it’s supposed to be.
That our last words
were indeed our last…
that the hugs and smiles we shared
must forever be imprinted in my memory.
And that I pray them

over and over again.
In my mind
wanting to know.
wondering.
Did you know how much I loved you?
Counted on you?
Needed you?
What am I to do without the arms
that I now know worked simultaneously with God’s
to shield me from harm?
Always protecting me.
Even when I believed they were holding me back.
You were my hero before I ever knew the meaning.
So, now, I ask.
Is it too late to let you know,
that your arms were always big enough
to hold me

and my worries...

kdtaylor, 2007

section 8 coffee publications

all rights reserved

Yes, our song is still the hidden track on Jill Scott's cd. I am a boisterous river. I am a mountains story. I am a quiet feeling. I am a fragrant flower. I am a moonlit evening. I am a peaceful night. I am a writers thinking. I am a wealth unfathomed. And if you don’t recognize my presence, I am here. And if you don’t recognize me, I am here. I am a source of power. I am excited journey. I am the rock of patience. I am a whisper singing. I am unbridled freedom. I am the thought from thinking. I am a love unshattered. I am the great orgasm. And if you don’t recognize my presence, I am here. And if you don’t recognize my presence, I am here. And even if you don’t recognize me, I‘m still here. And even if you don’t recognize me. And even if you don’t recognize me, I‘m still here. And even if you don’t recognize me, I am, oh, I’m still here. . Even if you don’t recognize me, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

Another moment...

for all those who lost their lives,

gave their lives,

risk their lives,

and protect our lives..

that morning and everyday since September 11, 2001.

Moment of Silence.

Mary Elizabeth Taylor

After she descended no one really asked

how she got the scar.

they simply stared.

pierced through the shambles she called life,

tore through her false pretenses

dropped their cold gaze to her nail bed

and assumed.

assumed the dirt and blood,

tattooed beneath them

held buried secrets.

and it came

from clawing her way from hell...

never believing that an angel

can have both.

a keloid scar from the fall,

and the earthen remains

from constantly picking yourself up

and a part.

angels walk among us

and greet us with toothless smiles,

clutch bottomless nightmares,

while sipping dreams from

brown tinted bottles

masquerading as hope.

once i spied her,

crouched in the corner

main-lining our tomorrows,

and nodding through her past.

she spoke in tongues

disguised as yawns, and mumbles;

but i heard her.

and i still do.

screaming through the sun's rays

and whispering in the dead of night.

kdtaylor, 2007

section 8 coffee publications

all rights reserved

Blink One Year and a Day....

If it is my last, let it be a prayer.....

One year and a day ago, we said good-bye. I pray that my village is treating you well. I have come to believe that you guys don't just hang around among clouds, looking down on our dumb butts... however, the thought is comforting... you know, our way of holding on...

So this is what I'm thinking our convo is like...

I know, my mom and aunt are beautiful women. I always wanted my mom's eyes, and aunt's smile. My aunt suzy is a trip, right. I know you and she are laughing your butts off almost daily. My grand? Yea, that's her exterior, you see where I got it from? Yup, after you get to know her she's warm, giving and loving. Did she cook yet? I know the peach cobbler or the shrimp casserole are off the chain! She's flirty, though. She justs like to see if she still has it. She looks good for her age, though. Great grand? Yes! She's a sweetheart. Doesn't she tell the best stories? She has a lot of wisdom. Did she tell you about the time I set the Johnson's front yard on fire? Stop laughing, I only ran because I was afraid! I mean a bomb made of jumping jacks, black cats, a bottle rocket, a sparkler and a pack of little firecrackers seemed like a good idea at the time. Who would have thought it would have caused a fire. My great aunt doesn't talk much. Is she still singing "hey good looking, what you got cooking"? She sings it when she's happy.

Me. I know. It's different. The love will always be there, though.

In the meantime... I'm blinking.

Prayer: an earnest request or wish

I have learned that words are powerful.
Not by talking, but silence.
The absence of conversation.
The absence of conversation from someone meaningful.
Important.
Someone you love.
Someone you miss.

We still talk.
Just not through words.
But dreams and whispers.

And if this is my last let it be a prayer.

09.09.04

Had I known that late afternoon, that it would be our last, I would have said.
"Grand, I live my life in fear. Not of life, or my choices, but other's intentions. And I know this fear causes me to, well..... Grand, I pray that you are proud of me. I know I haven't always made the right choices, but I've made the best ones. And they were based on what I knew in that moment. What was my truth..... I know it has been hard. I know I don't always make it easier for you, but I'm really okay. I'm aloof and distant, because I know one day I won't have you, and I don't know how to live in the moment. I don't know how to accept that one day you won't be there, and it will only be me and Stink. I'm glad you like my hair and believe it is "becoming". I was worried that you'd think I was crazy. I'm glad I've become a woman that you can respect. One who has seriously taken notes, and applied them to my life... I love you. You are my hero. And believe that you have been my biggest fan. I know I remind you of her. In so many ways it makes me happy, but I know it hurts you. A bittersweet life. An even bitter reminded of your eldest. Each and every time you look at the almond shape of my eyes, the way I move across a room, and the way I can stare through someone and never really see them. I hold onto these things in spite and despite. And yes, I pray that I find peace in knowing that you did the best you could with what you had. And as an adult, I've learned that's all you can expect from anyone..............."

Today was the last day I heard your voice. The last time I spoke to you. I don't think I've ever thought about what that TRULY MEANS. I know I take goodbyes for granted. I never know if it will be my last. I mean, we aren't promised tomorrow are we?

I vow to make my conversations meaningful. To treat each and everyone as if I may never have a chance to speak to them again. I will watch my tongue and be mindful of my words. I mean, if it is truly to be my last, I'd love for it to be a prayer.... simply a wish to be well in our absence from one another as well as an earnest request that our paths may meet once again.

i love you marg.... miss you much.

last night..

last night i went to neo..
it was something i hadn't done in a long time. i had not been to the new venue. nor had i read anything since nats women's open mic. truth be told, i hadn't recited a poem, or wanted to hear a poem, since before then. if i could trace it back, prolly, early july shortly after eb's wedding, i had truly decided i wouldn't read poetry until early october. unless i could get on the elusive african american open mic or the prestigious women's open mic during nationals. i was called for both, but read at one. and it was the most important one. the one for the women.
the last poem i read was "to my sisters". last night i read, "not another love poem." i read it for me, for her, and the life that we are building together.
i really hadn't made my mind up to go, nor was my heart 100% into it. not that i was coaxed or anything, but i wanted to support eb, who was going back after a brief hiatus, and mz lizz had a new piece that she was truly excited about. and i wanted to support hustle/june, because despite the obvious connection, i admire and respect them on so many levels. more then i'll ever say out loud. but, i just was not ready to go. and am sure it showed in my behavior.
while i felt estranged from everyone in the room, it didn't really matter. i was there to soak up words. i heard a lot of new voices in poetry. sentimentally, i realized i did miss a lot of the people. yet, there has been internal peace in my absence. just not ready to fall into the old, i want so desperately to go back to the older. something that while some believe they remember weren't simply there to experience. i long for the scene before there were soldiers. not bs writing labs designed to force creativity and socialization, talking and writing, because well, hell, we were creative people, not people trying to be creative. i mean, honestly, arrogantly, i miss the original, not the forced version of let's recreate the old, not recognizing there is a history and there is something older. hell there's a history older than my participation.
i want to be the old hungry poet, angel thought was "mean", who stood in the corner, shaking until it was my turn to read. no one knew me. there were no elaborate intros to create an expectation that i can't possibly meet. no judgements. no forced comments or smirks. no purposeful silence as not to let the person know the poem was hot. no .. no.. no (fill in the blank).
and i guess, after watching things unfold in the semi's and ultimately nationals, i have to say i am disappointed, yet not surprised. disgusted, but not so much that i have forgotten that poetry is in the heart and not a venue. no disdain, simply, a new attitude. no judgements, simple observation from someone who has no vested interest in the outcome. because i'm gonna do poetry as long as hustle has a venue or as long as i have a voice... but i'm not going to be the same poet person, just not that vested.
mo, i love you. miss you. wanna see you and guy, but i'm not ready. not yet. let's meet in chicago!
i truly wished it had been in my heart to socialize. because it felt good to see everyone. call it my mood, because that's what i've given you. i'll call it my guard, because, well.. hell, that's who i am. and this month, well this month, means too much to me to allow any one or thing to disturb what my village and g.o.d. has to offer in lessons and growth. this september i will cleanse and purge, walk through fire, live in new skin. i have to treat my mind and heart like my hair and my ____ everyone can't touch it and sure as hell can't be in it.
it doesn't mean that anyone i've extended or who has extended friendship to me is not important, you are and will always be, despite my silence and my distance. g.o.d. placed us in each other's lives for a reason. i just cannot continue the course we've taken. i am no longer comfortable. i'd like to start over. and if we can't, i truly understand. there are consequences to all choices. even my own.
be well.

i'm thirsty

i can't remember
what it felt like,
but i know it's left me,
wanting...
wanting like,
turning to embrace
and kiss
the shadow
of a stranger
you once called lover.
wanting...
wanting like
free falling,
falling free into
your dream's
make believe and
prayer's altered reality.
wanting.
wanting like,
knowing what it tastes like
to truly be enamoured..
devoured..
wanting..

kdtaylor, 2007
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved...




wanting jill scott's cd to be released, like yesterday, and me and my little green monster would be bobbing our heads to the beat ya'll.....

First Gratitude in September's loss.....

let's see there is so much to be grateful for.... september is the hardest month of the year for me. it is a month of great loss. my mother and my grandmother. and a play big brother. while in the past being thankful has been hard, as i've grown i recognize there is so much more to it...

01) my mother
02) a tweety bird.
03) 70's music.
04) new found love in old love....
05) my girls... thanks. even when we don't talk EVERYDAY!
06) poetry, it's in my heart - not at any venue.....
07) a phone call that last for over an hour while I wandered in HEB
08) rediscovering adolescent goofiness with a 16 year old boy....
09) being still and listening to their constant urgings... yes village i hear you.
10) hustle and june/a dream and a month
11) letting go and moving on
12) two days working from home
13) a drive to SA to take my sister to lunch!

it's raining

last night, i belived
i could taste forever in her tears.
it's bitter sweet saline
damped my tomorrows.
despite our temporary rainstorm,
i knew, without her smile
there was no sunshine in my future.
the sadness in her eyes,
clouds that darkened my skies.
and i prayed,
i prayed to g.o.d
a poem would
flow from my mouth,
create a summer breeze
and blow us past this moment.
a moment that seemed like forever.
when she parted her lips to speak..
the thunderous tone cracked my core,
and i,
well i, could only
turn my face toward the heavens,
open my mouth,
force myself to swallow her sorrow
and be drenched in her pain.


kdtaylor, 2007
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved