1st thought as the election moves toward Tejas...

Goodbye To All That (#2) by Robin Morgan
February 2, 2008
Goodbye To All That” was my (in)famous 1970 essay breaking free from a politics of accommodation especially affecting women (for an online version, see http://blog.fair-use.org/category/chicago/).
During my decades in civil-rights, anti-war, and contemporary women’s movements, I’ve avoided writing another specific “Goodbye . . .” But not since the suffrage struggle have two communities—joint conscience-keepers of this country—been so set in competition, as the contest between Hillary Rodham Clinton (HRC) and Barack Obama (BO) unfurls. So.
Goodbye to the double standard . . .
—Hillary is too ballsy but too womanly, a Snow Maiden who’s emotional, and so much a politician as to be unfit for politics.
—She’s “ambitious” but he shows “fire in the belly.” (Ever had labor pains?)—When a sexist idiot screamed “Iron my shirt!” at HRC, it was considered amusing; if a racist idiot shouted “Shine my shoes!” at BO, it would’ve inspired hours of airtime and pages of newsprint analyzing our national dishonor.
—Young political Kennedys—Kathleen, Kerry, and Bobby Jr.—all endorsed Hillary. Senator Ted, age 76, endorsed Obama. If the situation were reversed, pundits would snort “See? Ted and establishment types back her, but the forward-looking generation backs him.” (Personally, I’m unimpressed with Caroline’s longing for the Return of the Fathers. Unlike the rest of the world, Americans have short memories. Me, I still recall Marilyn Monroe’s suicide, and a dead girl named Mary Jo Kopechne in Chappaquiddick.)
Goodbye to the toxic viciousness . . .
Carl Bernstein's disgust at Hillary’s “thick ankles.” Nixon-trickster Roger Stone’s new Hillary-hating 527 group, “Citizens United Not Timid” (check the capital letters). John McCain answering “How do we beat the bitch?" with “Excellent question!” Would he have dared reply similarly to “How do we beat the black bastard?” For shame.
Goodbye to the HRC nutcracker with metal spikes between splayed thighs. If it was a tap-dancing blackface doll, we would be righteously outraged—and they would not be selling it in airports. Shame.
Goodbye to the most intimately violent T-shirts in election history, including one with the murderous slogan “If Only Hillary had married O.J. Instead!” Shame.
Goodbye to Comedy Central’s “Southpark” featuring a storyline in which terrorists secrete a bomb in HRC’s vagina. I refuse to wrench my brain down into the gutter far enough to find a race-based comparison. For shame.
Goodbye to the sick, malicious idea that this is funny. This is not “Clinton hating,” not “Hillary hating.” This is sociopathic woman-hating. If it were about Jews, we would recognize it instantly as anti-Semitic propaganda; if about race, as KKK poison. Hell, PETA would go ballistic if such vomitous spew were directed at animals. Where is our sense of outrage—as citizens, voters, Americans?
Goodbye to the news-coverage target-practice . . .
The women’s movement and Media Matters wrung an apology from MSNBC’s Chris Matthews for relentless misogynistic comments (www.womensmediacenter.com). But what about NBC’s Tim Russert’s continual sexist asides and his all-white-male panels pontificating on race and gender? Or CNN’s Tony Harris chuckling at “the chromosome thing” while interviewing a woman from The White House Project? And that’s not even mentioning Fox News.
Goodbye to pretending the black community is entirely male and all women are white . . .
Surprise! Women exist in all opinions, pigmentations, ethnicities, abilities, sexual preferences, and ages—not only African American and European American but Latina and Native American, Asian American and Pacific Islanders, Arab American and—hey, every group, because a group wouldn’t exist if we hadn’t given birth to it. A few non-racist countries may exist—but sexism is everywhere. No matter how many ways a woman breaks free from other discriminations, she remains a female human being in a world still so patriarchal that it’s the “norm.”
So why should all women not be as justly proud of our womanhood and the centuries, even millennia, of struggle that got us this far, as black Americans, women and men, are justly proud of their struggles?
Goodbye to a campaign where he has to pass as white (which whites—especially wealthy ones—adore), while she has to pass as male (which both men and women demanded of her, and then found unforgivable). If she were blackor he were female we wouldn’t be having such problems, and I for one would be in heaven. But at present such a candidate wouldn’t stand a chance—even if she shared Condi Rice’s Bush-defending politics.
I was celebrating the pivotal power at last focused on African American women deciding on which of two candidates to bestow their vote—until a number of Hillary-supporting black feminists told me they’re being called “race traitors.”
So goodbye to conversations about this nation’s deepest scar—slavery—which fail to acknowledge that labor- and sexual-slavery exist today in the U.S. and elsewhere on this planet, and the majority of those enslaved are women.
Women have endured sex/race/ethnic/religious hatred, rape and battery, invasion of spirit and flesh, forced pregnancy; being the majority of the poor, the illiterate, the disabled, of refugees, caregivers, the HIV/AIDS afflicted, the powerless. We have survived invisibility, ridicule, religious fundamentalisms, polygamy, teargas, forced feedings, jails, asylums, sati, purdah, female genital mutilation, witch burnings, stonings, and attempted gynocides. We have tried reason, persuasion, reassurances, and being extra-qualified, only to learn it never was about qualifications after all. We know that at this historical moment women experience the world differently from men—though not all the same as one another—and can govern differently, from Elizabeth Tudor to Michele Bachelet and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.
We remember when Shirley Chisholm and Patricia Schroeder ran for this high office and barely got past the gate—they showed too much passion, raised too little cash, were joke fodder. Goodbye to all that. (And goodbye to some feminists so famished for a female president they were even willing to abandon women’s rights in backing Elizabeth Dole.)
Goodbye, goodbye to . . .
—blaming anything Bill Clinton does on Hillary (even including his womanizing like the Kennedy guys—though unlike them, he got reported on). Let’s get real. If he hadn’t campaigned strongly for her everyone would cluck over what that meant. Enough of Bill and Teddy Kennedy locking their alpha male horns while Hillary pays for it.
—an era when parts of the populace feel so disaffected by politics that a comparative lack of knowledge, experience, and skill is actually seen as attractive, when celebrity-culture mania now infects our elections so that it’s “cooler” to glow with marquee charisma than to understand the vast global complexities of power on a nuclear, wounded planet.
—the notion that it’s fun to elect a handsome, cocky president who feels he can learn on the job, goodbye to George W. Bush and the destruction brought by his inexperience, ignorance, and arrogance. Goodbye to the accusation that HRC acts “entitled” when she’s worked intensely at everything she’s done—including being a nose-to-the-grindstone, first-rate senator from my state.
Goodbye to her being exploited as a Rorschach test by women who reduce her to a blank screen on which they project their own fears, failures, fantasies.
Goodbye to the phrase “polarizing figure” to describe someone who embodies the transitions women have made in the last century and are poised to make in this one. It was the women’s movement that quipped, “We are becoming the men we wanted to marry.” She heard us, and she has.
Goodbye to some women letting history pass by while wringing their hands, because Hillary isn’t as “likeable” as they’ve been warned they must be, or because she didn’t leave him, couldn’t “control” him, kept her family together and raised a smart, sane daughter. (Think of the blame if Chelsea had ever acted in the alcoholic, neurotic manner of the Bush twins!) Goodbye to some women pouting because she didn’t bake cookies or she did, sniping because she learned the rules and then bent or broke them. Grow the hell up. She is not running for Ms.-perfect-pure-queen-icon of the feminist movement. She’s running to be president of the United States.
Goodbye to the shocking American ignorance of our own and other countries’ history. Margaret Thatcher and Golda Meir rose through party ranks and war, positioning themselves as proto-male leaders. Almost all other female heads of government so far have been related to men of power—granddaughters, daughters, sisters, wives, widows: Gandhi, Bandaranike, Bhutto, Aquino, Chamorro, Wazed, Macapagal-Arroyo, Johnson Sirleaf, Bachelet, Kirchner, and more. Even in our “land of opportunity,” it’s mostly the first pathway “in” permitted to women: Representatives Doris Matsui and Mary Bono and Sala Burton; Senator Jean Carnahan . . . far too many to list here.
Goodbye to a misrepresented generational divide . . .
Goodbye to the so-called spontaneous “Obama Girl” flaunting her bikini-clad ass online—then confessing Oh yeah it wasn’t her idea after all, some guys got her to do it and dictated the clothes, which she said “made me feel like a dork.”
Goodbye to some young women eager to win male approval by showing they’re not feminists (at least not the kind who actually threaten thestatus quo), who can’t identify with a woman candidate because she is unafraid of eeueweeeu yucky power, who fear their boyfriends might look at them funny if they say something good about her. Goodbye to women of any age again feeling unworthy, sulking “what if she’s not electable?” or “maybe it’s post-feminism and whoooosh we’re already free.” Let a statement by the magnificent Harriet Tubman stand as reply. When asked how she managed to save hundreds of enslaved African Americans via the Underground Railroad during the Civil War, she replied bitterly, “I could have saved thousands—if only I’d been able to convince them they were slaves.”
I’d rather say a joyful Hello to all the glorious young women who do identifywith Hillary, and all the brave, smart men—of all ethnicities and any age—who get that it’s in their self-interest, too. She’s better qualified. (D’uh.) She’s a high-profile candidate with an enormous grasp of foreign- and domestic-policy nuance, dedication to detail, ability to absorb staggering insult and personal pain while retaining dignity, resolve, even humor, and keep on keeping on. (Also, yes, dammit, let’s hear it for her connections and funding and party-building background, too. Obama was awfully glad about those when she raised dough and campaigned for him to get to the Senate in the first place.)
I’d rather look forward to what a good president he might make in eight years, when his vision and spirit are seasoned by practical know-how—and he’ll be all of 54. Meanwhile, goodbye to turning him into a shining knight when actually he’s an astute, smooth pol with speechwriters who’ve worked with the Kennedys’ own speechwriter-courtier Ted Sorenson. If it’s only about ringing rhetoric, let speechwriters run. But isn’t it about getting the policies we want enacted?
And goodbye to the ageism . . .
How dare anyone unilaterally decide when to turn the page on history, papering over real inequities and suffering constituencies in the promise of a feel-good campaign? How dare anyone claim to unify while dividing, or think that to rouse U.S. youth from torpor it’s useful to triage the single largest demographic in this country’s history: the boomer generation—the majority of which is female?
Old woman are the one group that doesn’t grow more conservative with age—and we are the generation of radicals who said “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Goodbye to going gently into any goodnight any man prescribes for us. We are the women who changed the reality of the United States. And though we never went away, brace yourselves: we’re back!
We are the women who brought this country equal credit, better pay, affirmative action, the concept of a family-focused workplace; the women who established rape-crisis centers and battery shelters, marital-rape and date-rape laws; the women who defended lesbian custody rights, who fought for prison reform, founded the peace and environmental movements; who insisted that medical research include female anatomy; who inspired men to become more nurturing parents; who created women’s studies and Title IX so we all could cheer the WNBA stars and Mia Hamm. We are the women who reclaimed sexuality from violent pornography, who put childcare on the national agenda, who transformed demographics, artistic expression, language itself. We are the women who forged a worldwide movement. We are the proud successors of women who, though it took more than 50 years, won us the vote.
We are the women who now comprise the majority of U.S. voters.
Hillary said she found her own voice in New Hampshire. There’s not a woman alive who, if she’s honest, doesn’t recognize what she means. Then HRC got drowned out by campaign experts, Bill, and media’s obsession with everything Bill.
So listen to her voice:
“For too long, the history of women has been a history of silence. Even today, there are those who are trying to silence our words.
“It is a violation of human rights when babies are denied food, or drowned, or suffocated, or their spines broken, simply because they are born girls. It is a violation of human rights when woman and girls are sold into the slavery of prostitution. It is a violation of human rights when women are doused with gasoline, set on fire and burned to death because their marriage dowries are deemed too small. It is a violation of human rights when individual women are raped in their own communities and when thousands of women are subjected to rape as a tactic or prize of war. It is a violation of human rights when a leading cause of death worldwide along women ages 14 to 44 is the violence they are subjected to in their own homes. It is a violation of human rights when women are denied the right to plan their own families, and that includes being forced to have abortions or being sterilized against their will.
“Women’s rights are human rights. Among those rights are the right to speak freely—and the right to be heard.”
That was Hillary Rodham Clinton defying the U.S. State Department and the Chinese Government at the 1995 UN World Conference on Women in Beijing (look here for the full, stunning speech).
And this voice, age 21, in “Commencement Remarks of Hillary D. Rodham, President of Wellesley College Government Association, Class of 1969.”
“We are, all of us, exploring a world none of us understands. . . . searching for a more immediate, ecstatic, and penetrating mode of living. . . . [for the] integrity, the courage to be whole, living in relation to one another in the full poetry of existence. The struggle for an integrated life existing in an atmosphere of communal trust and respect is one with desperately important political and social consequences. . . . Fear is always with us, but we just don't have time for it.”
She ended with the commitment “to practice, with all the skill of our being: the art of making possible.”
And for decades, she’s been learning how.
So goodbye to Hillary’s second-guessing herself. The real question is deeper than her re-finding her voice. Can we women find ours? Can we do this for ourselves?
“Our President, Ourselves!”
Time is short and the contest tightening. We need to rise in furious energy—as we did when Anita Hill was so vilely treated in the U.S. Senate, as we did when Rosie Jiminez was butchered by an illegal abortion, as we did and do for women globally who are condemned for trying to break through. We need to win, this time. Goodbye to supporting HRC tepidly, with ambivalent caveats and apologetic smiles. Time to volunteer, make phone calls, send emails, donate money, argue, rally, march, shout, vote.
Me? I support Hillary Rodham because she’s the best qualified of all candidates running in both parties. I support her because her progressive politics are as strong as her proven ability to withstand what will be a massive right-wing assault in the general election. I support her because she knows how to get us out of Iraq. I support her because she’s refreshingly thoughtful, and I’m bloodied from eight years of a jolly “uniter” with ejaculatory politics. I needn’t agree with her on every point. I agree with the 97 percent of her positions that are identical with Obama’s—and the few where hers are both more practical and to the left of his (like health care). I support her because she’s already smashed the first-lady stereotype and made history as a fine senator, because I believe she will continue to make history not only as the first US woman president, but as a great US president.
As for the “woman thing”?
Me, I’m voting for Hillary not because she’s a woman—but because I am.

18 and then there was one.....

Borrowing the most infamous words in television known to the black community:
DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!
I am open to all barbs, comments, insults and jokes. In the spirit of true competition and loyalty, "On any given Sunday, anyone can win or lose. It was the Giants game on Sunday. We'll see you next year."
On a different note, others will make comment and not be a fan of anything other than pure harassment of me and hating on the PATS! That's cool, too. 'Cuz while I was born in Texas, in my heart I am a true New Englander, so F' it, I can take a joke, and you, my friend you can kiss my natural _____!

The Hiatus

I have made personal decisions to move in a different direction. Vowed to live my life differently. Not take the mistakes of the past into this year. As a dear friend reminded me through his jewel of a Mother's words. "Your future is brighter than your past." I know that; however, keeping that focus in mind when you are in the midst of a personal storm is confusing and difficult. My perception hasn't always been clear, as my mind has been clouded, fogged, by things that really, in the big picture of my life. Isn’t any of my business nor is it my problem.
Some will read this, and read through the lines. Believing some how they will know exactly what is going on with me. What is wrong with me. The issue is, nothing's wrong and everything's wrong. Nothing is perfect, yet everything is exactly the way it is supposed to be, perfectly imperfect in its imperfections.
I have made mistakes in my life, and it appears as if the poor choices in my past, whether it’s an action or thought, have led to this moment. A moment of constant clarified uncertainty. I am not in any way regretful of my choices. I have lived, interestingly of course, yet I have lived. Seemingly, I have made decisions and made choices to behave a certain way in my life which I believed would shield and protect all that I love and hold dear. Yet this is not the case. Truthfully, I placed myself in a cocoon. Where everything is connected, and honestly, I really don't like the two degrees of separation in my life.
I love compartmentalization. My work life does not meet my personal life. Unless I make that choice. And once my extra curricular activities did not meet my personal life. Unless I made that choice. My home life did not meet my extra curricular activities or my work life. Unless I wanted to or made that choice. Lately things have melded together. And I don't recall willingly making that choice. I wake up, and people are somehow in my space. Not by my invitation, but their insistence. Not by my invitation, but casually participating in activities/things we have in common and somehow believing it to more. I have also allowed others to make that choice whether it was me "worrying" about their feelings or the "issues" it would cause because we traveled in the same circles. However, after much consideration, I've recognized we don't travel in the same circles. We just happen to have things in common. And if we see each other frequently because of those commonalities, it's cool. It is by chance, our common interests placed us in situations where we bonded on a friendly level, but it was never meant to be anything more than friendly. And friendly, does not always equate my personal space, i.e. my home.
My home life is sacred. The nature of my relationship does not afford me the same luxuries as others. We are not, nor have we ever wanted to be a public couple. And truthfully, I don't want to share that level of intimacy or give everyone a glimpse our personal space. I have learned that having your relationship under constant scrutiny causes problems. Every argument, problem, kiss, hug, sullen, silent moment, becomes a topic of discussion. And oh my gosh, you can never break up or move past that relationship because it becomes everyone's f'ing break-up. Not because people are "looking for something to talk about", it's just a natural instinct. I mean, they've seen and been involved in so much it feels "personal".
I say all of this because that fine line between my intimate relationships, my home, my free time, my everything, has been blurred. I don't think I should ever have to explain why I do anything, unless a) you are ELM, b) you are a Judge in a Court of Law, or c) You are G.O.D. I have always been clear about who I am. I am a very complicated, moody, personal, quirky woman. Who no longer wants to live in this blurred reality.
Lastly, I care for and love my poetry, personal, and life-long, friends. Each has a place in my world, and I have a place in yours. I am, in most cases, keenly aware of my place in your world, and I pray that you are also aware of your place in my world. You have caused me to learn so much about myself as a person, and as a Woman. And I love the kinship we have built and continue to foster.
Some of you will read this and know EXACTLY how I feel. You know that I am striving to do so much for myself outside of the obvious places we see and meet each other. We've had conversations at Cheddar's by chance (LOL), tearful confessions, and honest conversation. Others will read it and call someone and ask what was she talking about? The need to call someone you believe knows the answer should help you in discerning the difference between friends and acquaintances.
As we discussed, by chance yesterday in two different conversations, "I refuse to take fill in the blank into my fill in the blank year." I will add this though, I pray I take all I consider and hold dear into the New Year with a clear definition of the roles and places we have in each others lives.
Peace...

january 20, 2008 in foxborough, ma.

thankful

I am thankful for everything. I can't think of a single thing that I am more grateful for or of over another. This has been a pretty good week.
Considering...
I just know I'm gonna have a good weekend. And I'm looking forward to it.
Soooooo.....

a poem for whoever needs it.

she holds light in hands,
speaks the secret language of raindrops
and smiles a million thunderstorms
to wash my blues away…
sunshine springs from hugs
hidden behind clouds
drenched in sorrow,
to water the flowers
that grow in the blink
of her eyes.
I tenderly pick
each and every one.
as if they were a small
piece of her mind
and for a moment,
I invincibly contain
her thoughts.
make her wishes come true.
until the petals fall
like light of day
at the edge of night.
predictable.
inevitable.
in my dreams,
she rises in the swell
of twilight.
creating rainbows in
syllables and prose.
coloring me
with every word she speaks.
I know no hues of sadness.
her whispers,
silence
echoes that question
the core of my being
I am stilled.
she moves like
midtown taxi
erratically racing
atop paved emotions
oft stalling at red lights.
held slight upright
by cracked asphalt
and concrete tombs
disguised as my world.
a world
which has fallen upon
the quiet noise,
a quickened sound
of flash
‘tween red and green.
stuck somewhere cautiously
on the yellow of her light
and the speed of my mental
braces..
pauses.
then comes to a
screeching halt.
she holds light in hand.
it moves from
green
to yellow
to red
and i am stilled,
paralyzed,
fixated.

kdtaylor, 2008.
secton 8 publishing
all rights reserved.

Not Hating on Dallas... They messed it up for EVERYONE!!!

Okay. I think perhaps most think I'm down on Tony Romo. I'm not. I've rooted for them all season, except of course when they were playing the Patriots. I hate the PERFECT SUPERBOWL PARTY will not happen. I was really hoping it would be a clash against the Patriots and the Cowgirls. What better way for the Patriots to end a perfect season with a win over America's so called team...

I think we can all agree on which leader stayed more focus during the season. And no, I'm not blaming it on one play, it was a T.O. tearfully explained, a team loss. And it sucks rocks big time.

f'ing Romo.. a last minute f'up and a blonde. AGAIN

I was really hoping they could have made it to the SUPERBOWL... Maybe if he had stayed in Irving taking a few damn snaps, viewing games reels, and focusing, instead of partying in Cabo things would be so DIFFERENT tonight.

something i'm working on....

darkend magnolias
I want to swallow her darkness,
speak light into her existence
and remove the pain
from her quickened breaths.
place my feet in her tiny shoes,
and trace her footsteps,
BACKWARD.
revising her past
with each heavy thud.
snatch rotten apples
from her peach tree
and replace them with
cherry blossoms.
I want to sniff the gardenia
in her thoughts
and watch
her leave,
falling head over heels,
in greens,
browns,
and goals
in the fall of her life.

we live for another week

Lupe breath just a little... be silent, the radio may catch on

A little something I'm working on...

6th of the Month
I wish your father loved you more,
loved you enough to bow rain back
toward the future.
collapsing every prism that defies
light to become your rainbow.
loved you enough to
remove all the color and luster in your life
so that you can see things in black and white,
night and day,
right and wrong.
to know there is no such thing
as primary colored courage,
and that the cool of blue
combined with the cowardliness of yellow
would only create a vine of greened envy
who’s only goal was the
choke the life from your soul.

I wished he loved you enough
to swallow the tears he refused to shed
drown his incessant fears;
create a safe shore
distancing you from his sea of
inherited shame and pain.
loved you enough
to shower you in make believe
and distorted truths,
twisting and bending
your shallow existence
below his life’s surface.
A parallel existence where
your heart no longer
beats to satisfy his every whim.

loved you enough
to tell you that fairy tales don’t exist.
There are no fair maidens in the ghetto.
And the only place you’ll find fair
In it’s truest sense, is in the dictionary.
There are no knights to bestow
love and kindness upon you
and if you’re lucky,
you’ll find the one
that falls swiftly just before your death.

I just wish, I just wished he loved you enough.
so that when he said he’d take you places
God never dared…
that you’d had the
strength and fortitude to ask
who or what he believed in
because the god you know,
would never travel paths of broken glass,
and the backs of those he loved most.

to be continued....

Thanks

01) she's growing past the pain..
02) Mae Lou (Mary Lou)
03) loving you like the very first time
04) the road trip to K'leen, it was good...
05) the boy child is back, dang I missed him!
06) visiting my nephew and sister on Saturday.
07) talking to my family
08) lunch with KA
09) you taking night time rides with me and Mae Lou
10) new poem
11) first 48 marathon
12) dressing like a grown up.
13) lunch at Mangia. missed you

bonus: keeping it (appropriately) moving with good orderly directions... give all thanks to the most high..

HaPPy BirTHdAy DaD

Happy Birthday Dad!!!

Roy E. Elliott, Sr.

Grateful Resolve

01) watch my tongue, as it dictates my behavior.
02) listen even in silence.
03) make my actions louder than any word spoken.
04) make every interaction count.
05) keep my friends close.
06) not worry about my enemies, as they are potential friends.
07) say i love you more.
08) talk less.
09) write and memorize one poem monthly.
10) read more.
11) watch less reality television.
12) volunteer for something once a month.
13) follow G.O.D.

what do you resolve?

crashing into the '08 Happy New Year....

December) surviving the crash with a broken nail, a headache, and a backache... Mary's totaled! As Langston said, "she gave her life to save yours." I realize the importance of naming cars, Mary was named after my Mom... so his statement meant so much more..

November) Anthony David and the Mahogany Affair, one hella Thanksgiving and my promotion!!!!

October) Jill Scott and the Baily's Get Together!!!! The return to Neo-Soul... and Neo Soul returning to it's roots!!!! Spit fire Neo!

September) Memories of those we lost.. My Grand, My Mom and Tweet! Thanks to you I learned a valuable lesson in forgiveness..

August) Nationals.. Good, Bad and Indifferent. It was a difficult period, but I got past the BS and did what I had to do... thanks to G.O.D. , an Angel W., and an Angel H.

July) a wedding of a lifetime and a month long Birthday Celebration...

June) my promotion!!!!

May) Slam Champ!!!! The Fellowship of the Wings... You don't know how much you helped me during that time....

April) texas relays!!!!!!! a Francis Tradition that I am happy to be a part of.. The picture we took and the pic-mail I sent you while you were at work.... HA.HAHAHA.

March) every day, every hour, every minute, every second... a learning experience..

February) a trying month, a trying time..

January) my birthday... 13 poets for 13! it was fanf'ingtastic...

thanks to all and for all who endured and indulged me, befriended and frenemied me in 2007... I wouldn't be the person I am today without ya...

Happy New Year.. Keeping It (Appropriately) Moving with Good Orderly Direction...

pursuit......

16-0 Now, the real games begin...

crashing into wednesday..... i'm alive....

01) every breath, every step, every minute, every hour..
02) being able to walk away..
03) the fun-filled 22 months we had together..
04) the love and support of you guys from the moment it occurred.... i'm sure i'm doing something right now!!!!
05) you recognizing me and stopping.... both of you.
06) all the phone calls and texts, you guys are amazing!
07) for him wanting to do harm, but restraining..
08) for this Xmas...
09) for G.O.D. and the Village.... your hands, your arms, your love...
10) for our days off together.
11) for patience learned, i am putting it all in someone else's hands.
12) G.O.D.
13) each one of you..

bonus: the love of my life, my family, and my friends...

damn you're a year older!

Happy Birthday Langston!

MY MENTORHOMEYBROTHERFATHERFRIEND....

We walk.. even when are miles apart..we walk, TOGETHER..

we love each other enough to be fighting mad and madly fighting for our friendship!

Happy Merry Hanakwanmas!

Legend
(Purple Pieces)

the greatest stories never told
are deeply buried in prose
beneath crow’s feet.
are scrawled in pidgin
riding waves of laugh lines.
are hidden, haphazardly
thrown between folds of skin.
wrinkled, tattered, torn,
pieced together,
layered thinly,
forced to stretch
beyond what can wildly be imagined.
emoting that which is
seldom shared,
hidden from self…
spoken only, to God
in the thunderous booms
between breaks
of silence and quiet.
at times,
it is synchronized to the twinkle
of gases masquerading as stars
in the light of night.
tatted vividly, tribal like,
around arms muscled
into weakness.
appearing frail,
remaining strong.
lift your head…
like you, it’s simply beautiful.
it doesn’t mean you have aged
it simply shows that you have lived..
having spent each
second to minute by hour
tumbling toward twilight,
skipping upon droplets of
multi-colored tears.
child-like, a picture book
sharing tales which have no words..
your footprints,
rain bowed characters
carrying torched songs
for others to sing
at the break of dawn.
there are ancient patios
upon sacred scrolls,
etched masterfully
in the arch of your back
with each move, bend
and curve your story unfolds…
haikus and poems
darken love and life lines
along your palms
healing others, sometimes self
leaving just enough of you behind…
for others to remember,
to reminisce…
so say stories seldom told
are the ones hidden behind
the rose tinted smile..
in smooth ridge of
lyrics lying softly upon lips
speak..
easy..
sing.
praise.

kdtaylor
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

E.R.G. III (my nephew)

HAPPY 17th BIRTHDAY!

I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH....

almost.... but grateful either way..

01) for clarity... my circle's becoming smaller, but definitely tighter.
02) a saturday night date that was hellafun.
03) plans. i'm making plans.
04) meetings that go well and in my favor.
05) you loving your job.... it makes everything so much easier...
06) me loving my job... (even if for now) it makes everything so sweeter.
07) the next 48 hours.... i love that show!
08) in two days i'll be off for over a week!
09) and you'll be home with me!!!!
10) wanting nothing and getting everything.
11) just another reason that i call you my closest friend in austin!
12) g.o.d. and the willingness to take direction.
13) YOU.(reading this!).... what would i do without you?

bonus: gerald making my t-shirt in hellatime for neo last thursday....

He's Teaching Me To Dance

January 25, 2008 ROAD TRIP!!!!!

Ladies Night Out featuring Keith Sweat - with Special Guests Bell Biv Devoe, Guy with Aaron Hall and Toni Tony Tone

nokia theater grand prairie texas

13 days before xmas.. and i thankfully fine...

01) the evil eye.... i look at it daily..
02) my new promo!!! yes, a sister's climbing that ladder, one rung at a time..
03) the youth slam, my gosh it is so frickin' rewarding.
04) the short laughing gathering with my girls... it felt sooooo damn good.
05) your graduation..
06) i hope you APPLIED FOR THAT JOB ma'am!
07) mary j's "i'm fine".. damn talk about a make you happy song!!!!
08) jill scott's tour.... and it's in February the month of our official first date!!!!
09) my sister passing her exam, she was mad scared..
10) you loving your new job
11) my friends are growing through hardship and happiness... nothing like having people on the move... remember any movement is better than stagnation.... sometimes you have to take a step back to run faster or jump higher!!!
12) like so many others i have new poems...
13) a HOME to go HOME to... it's not just a place i rest my head..... it's definitely where my heart resides...

and as always G.O.D. without it, well i don't want to think about it...

This Made My Week!!!!

Today was a GOOD day

01) the patriots won!


02) jill scott @ THE VERIZON, Houston, TEXAS, Wednesday, February 20, 2008.
The Real Thing American Tour!

grateful

i am grateful to g.o.d. for the opportunity to forgive, forget, remember, and just be. thanks to all for my renewed view and zest in life.

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.