how did she know?

When I was a child I was a writer.

My mother bought me a writing bench that had a little red seat attached to it. There was a chalk board on top and underneath was a white board where I could use markers and wipe it clean when i got a new idea. It had regular paper, construction paper, chalk, an eraser and markers. It was my most prized possession.

I was about 4 years old. Man, I was so proud to sit at that bench. That was the only seat I sat in that my feet touched the floor. It felt like the bench was custom made for me. So much of my time was spent there day dreaming and writing about water and rocks and white curtains.

When we came home from anywhere I would take my shoes and socks off and run straight to that bench to recap everything that happened outside of apartment 5L. You didn’t know writing is better with bare feet? Purpose comes from the bottom up.

Lions, elephants and koala bears. Peanut butter with crackers. Moccasin slippers with wool lining. Mommy sweeping around me and my bench while “ain’t nuthin going on but the rent” played in the backgroud. This is what I remember. I was always in the clouds. Always in the clouds on a magic carpet that was my pencil an paper.

I’d live wherever I wanted and have all the animals I saw in the zoo in my backyard. I’d have an aquarium that was bigger than any I’d ever seen. Mommy and I would live together forever. She would make spaghetti and sweet potato pie every night. Nothing would be wrong in our lives.

All my dreams had to come true. It was just a matter of time. I figured that I could put these things in motion once I was able to cross the street by myself.

I would write about how much I loved my mother. She was the best person in the world to me, but i never wanted to be like her. I always had my own identity. My whole life was mapped out at that desk. I was going to write until I fell asleep every day. I would draw until the world ran out of colors. There would be an answer to my every questions. Not just “cause I said so.” There was nothing that I wanted more than to be at the desk day dreaming about what was to become. I was only 4.

Today I’m 28 and that little girl was so much more certain than this grown woman. The confidence she had was waivered by nothing. Life was one thing and one thing only; her oyster. How did she do it? Why was she so sure? How did she know everything that I don’t.

Recently I was told that I’m not the same woman I used to be. He said that I’m just surviving and not living He should have met me in 1985. I was something to reckoned with. I wish I was half the woman that girl was.

Today’s tip: Be who you were as a child.

send for me

I don’t wish for wings.
It would still take too long to get to you if I flew
Time travel is more fitting for this situation.
Somebody please get scottie to beam me up

How did the damp atmosphere steal you away?
Its wet enough on this side of town
I know you got work to do man, but I wanna work too

The bayou has my baaybay and my stillness
Cause I don’t rest without him
Every moment filled with thoughts
The past…intriguing , now… satisfying, tomorrow…ignited

If I my close my eyes real tight I see you
smell you
feel you
My body screams for your whisper
My heart pounds for your call
Somebody tell the big easy that this is a little too hard

Give him back or take me too

For whom the bell tolls

It’s that time honey. The end of the road. My heart is callused from the journey. I never imagined that the fork in the road would turn into a brick wall.
Maybe it was written or perhaps a dream deferred. Either way here we are. Our very general conversations tell the story of a love that counldn’t endure the trouncing. Two to the body and the final to the head.

Down goes Frazier

Years, light years, lifetimes rusted from the constant flow of tears, sweat, blood.
Push thrice, but only once for me. The other two were left to another. But I was left to count backwards from 10.
Life’s liquid drowned our love.
Its fine now. No really it is. I don’t look to replace you
There’s no one to fill your shoes. The stature is yours alone that can cast such a shadow, but its time I step into the light.

last night

I haven’t seen the moon in 48 hours
Sleep came early
A sleep I wished hard for
Wished I could close my eyes and life would be better on the other side of today
Wished that tears didn’t take up so much of my time.
My wish was granted, but I waged a war.
A dog, a man, and a baby occupied the space behind my eyelids.
Wasn’t no white picket fences either.
Barking, crying, screaming, running
Running for our lives while he stood by
Knew i had to save myself
Knew i had to wake up
Had to come back to life because if only for a short time, waking life is better than that
See, my life is no better in my dreams
When its time for eternal sleep just call me lazarus
Only they know whats in store for me if my eyes stay closed too long
Don’t know what to make of this
Just be careful what you wish for I guess
cause even slumber ain’t safe for me

Homage

Editor’s note: For some reason the date of the posts are always the day after. The date is supposed to say May 19

Dear Heart,

Today has changed my life. I can only pray that you have some idea. There is triumph in my stride today because I feel your eternal life force. There has never been a better friend. No one else speaks the words from my lips. You were born for me and here I am because of you. I pay homage on this day, the days prior and every day after. Because of you I have the lion’s share of life.

I am enthralled by you. The flex in your voice has captivated me. The power in your stature is mesmerizing. How can you be only of flesh and blood? This shell is too weak to hold you. This world is too staggering. Though I release you I never let go. Neither have you. As above so below. Because of you I am Malcolm X.

Happy Birthday Omowale.

Signed, Not bitter just thinking

For those of you who have read this previously you know that I’m all about love and revolution- which in my opinion are mirroring factors. Those of us who seek revolution are doing so out of an immense love- love for ourselves and that which propels us to our greatest existence. Like revolution, love is an arduous process. I pray for a time when we can have both. With that said, here I go again….

We are all creatures of habit and since the beginning of time there has been this perpetual behavior by the male of our species. From the dawn men were hunters, fighters, and the leaders of nations. Their very biological make up is that of strength, bravery and will. So riddle me this…where’s all that strength when it comes to matching the effort put forth by women to make a relationship work? The book of life is full of testimonies of the broken hearted. Generations of matriarchs, like clay hardened, waiting for their affections to be recipricated only to find that time has stood still for their male counterparts. It’s an age old tale of disappointment.

Our daughters are taught not to trust the very ones that are here to love and care for us. We drill in them the certainty of being abandoned in hopes that they will be impenetrable. Our mothers are the commanders teaching us to be soldiers on love’s battlefield. It doesn’t matter though, the tears of the devestated can fill the Grand Canyon 100 times over. Mine alone can fill one.

We wait and wait and wait….for things to “straighten themselves out.” We hold our breath awaiting the day he will give even a fraction of what we have. To no avail in most cases that day never comes. So my question is, since men do what they do when will there be the woman who is ok with it? I mean, if this is some inate behavior in men, why can’t we accept it? Have we been europeanized? Have we been too romanticized? If men and women are a complementary pair why doesn’t this feel complementary? Is love a fantasy? Should we aim for practicality instead? Why are so many lives in turmoil all in the name of love? Why are there so many who wait in vain?

on my word and my balls!!!!

part three

It ain’t hard to tell that I’ve been in a pretty foul mood these days. The grim reality of being Black in this concrete wilderness has been eating away at me like a termite to a wood foundation. There has been a cloud of defeat looming overhead.

Anyway, the yearning for liberation is pounding in me. african-americans may say “liberation”? Didn’t Abraham Lincoln sign the emancipation procla whatever? You ain’t a slave.” On the contrary we, are and as long as we are here we will continue to be enslaved. We are given choices, but no options. The shackles have been replaced with a capitalism and the klu klux klan now wears blue uniforms instead of white sheets. Times haven’t changed just because there’s brown skin in the white house. The struggle our forefathers fought is the same one we are fighting. Well, we’re not fighting. This is a massacre. I feel like the lone soldier trying to convince the dying that they have been attacked. I have been feeling like an army of one.

Well here’s where my attitude changes. The Qu’ran says that oppression is worse than death. Malcolm said that the price of freedom is death. This warrior has no uncertainty about paying that price. This is by no means a suicidal statement. No intervention neccessary. I’m just ready for the shit to hit the fan. You know when you get that burning inside when you’re ready for anything. That’s me right now.

Its war!!! I’m sick of these teetering negroes, bootlicking and shuckin and jivin. The greatest challange in life is picking a side. The most important things have no room for ambiguity. Yay or nay… what say you?

its been too hard livin….

part two

i am the child of flames
so its never too hot for me

water’s too wet
so my peace is adrift

earth won’t have me
so i’m everyone’s stranger

i can’t remember stone
so tomorrow is beyond my recollection

nature is unstoppable
so i’m gone with the wind

King me

part one

20

Thank you for the nomination Ms. Neverow. Per my last entry I’m in mute mode, but this is a good way to break my silence. So here goes nuthin. This is my 20.

1. I’m not african-american. You might as well smack me in the face if you call me that. I’m AFRICAN, period (no need for punctuation)

2. As a child I was afraid of pigeons.

3. As an adult I’m afraid of squirrels.

4. I think Mr. Cheeks from the Lost Boys is incredibly sexy. Take another look ladies I’m sure you’ll feel me on this one.

5. I’ve learned that you can spend all day cooking a 5 course meal and kids will still ask to have cereal instead.

6. I can understand that request because I LOVE cereal. I’ll spend $5 on a box, especially one with almonds and granola. And doesn’t it always taste better at like 1am?

7. Another love of mine is the beautiful avocado. I love avocado so much that I would marry it if I could.

8. I hate to see Black women pushing strollers containing white babies. The women always look miserable. Black women let’s stop being mammy.

9. The hardest decision I have to make is “should I stay or should I go”…..to the bathroom when I get the urge to pee 30 minutes before I have to get up. I spend 10 minutes trying to ignore the near explosion of my bladder so I can get back to sleep. This decision is especially difficult to make in the winter, when its 5 degrees colder over the blanket. Decisions, decisions.

10. When I’m talking to a man I zero in on his mouth. I’m a sucker for beautiful full lips and a nice smile. They say eyes are the window to the soul, but the mouth is the window to his organs. You can hide a good soul, but you can’t hide congestive heart failure. I’m just sayin.

11. A man with a poor diet turns me off completely!!!

12. I can’t understand for the life of me why people still eat pork. Pigs are so disgusting. Think about it. When you wanna call somebody nasty or greedy which animal do you liken them to?

13. I don’t feel the least bit guilty about listening to R. Kelly. He’s a musical genius. Half on a baby, What?! Thats my ish.

14. My grandmother is the premiere singer in her church choir. I don’t think she sounds that great. As a matter of fact. I can’t stand to hear her sing. What????? Just cause she’s my grama doesn’t mean I can’t be honest. This is the lion’s share, I say what I want.

15. Tiffany and I laugh at things that most people wouldn’t. We find humor in the most inappropriate things. It’s as if we speak a different language from the rest of humanity.

16. To quote Raymond from the movie Rain Man- “I’m an excellent driver.” No, really I am an excellent driver. I can whip.

17. If I think about Malcolm too long I start to cry. Anyone who knows me knows exactly who I’m talking about. I absolutely adore and revere him. He, he… I can’t even talk about it.

18. Denzel deserved the academy award for Training Day. I don’t know why people trippin about it. I always root for the bad guys in movies anyway. So I was thrilled to see my favorite man on the silver screen play such an asshole. I loved it. “The shit’s chess not checkers!”

19. I can recite “The Five Heartbeats” from beginning to end complete with songs lyrics and choreography.

20. Sometimes its just not that serious. I have to tell myself that often. Everything is a c-o-n spiracy if you ask me. When I’m at a red light when no one’s around I think to myself…why am I sitting here? Has fascist america conditioned me to the point where I obey rules even when no one is looking? Have I turned into Pavlov’s dog? Have my thoughts been so controlled that my actions are predictable? Did I take the blue pill? Have I just become a computer program that’s a part of the matrix? White supremacy has altered my brain so much so that a red light keeps me motionless. I’m wasting precious seconds that turn into minutes and hours. By the time I’m 80 I would have spent 2 years waiting on red lights to turn green. This red light is taking pictures of my retina so that I can be cloned and eliminated. This is yet another attempt on my life. I’ve got to free myself from the grips of this new world order. Wait a minute Garrett Morgan invented the traffic light. Let me give the Black man his respect. By the time I’m done with all this the light is green. Like I said it’s just not that serious.

For some reason I think scattered people would have an interesting 20. He don’t like to be a boisterous person so he may or may not comply.