blogger's hard life

this is entirely too hard to edit the template crap stuff. i'm a writer dammit. getting ready for the europe leave on monday. also the first day at teachers and writers. hip hop poetry and the classics in the classroom *shout out to mikey C*
im at the nuyo tonite. slamming for who know's why! i no longer respect the nuyo (save Pepe, the bartender & poetry aficionado & Julio the gatekeeper)! but i keep reminding myself, it's about the poetry -- not the punk ass people who wouldnt know real poetry if it bit them in their A-HOLE.

wish me luck

mahogany

New -ness

Im here in Blog Land-- its cool soo far. ive been reading it for a while now. its a great way to get to know what peoplereally think about youwhen you arent lookingalso a great way to stay up on my diary keepingso forgive me if i have delayed responses.i leave for europe next week
cant wait for that
this is my 4th tour their in the past 3 years. i love europe
they are so attentive when it comes to poetry
and not just formula-style slam poemsactually heart wrenching
bone crushing
heart attack having -- poetry
the shyt that makes you catch ya breath, ya know?
also, this is the beginning of the end and the beginning of a great beginning...
i am starting my own non profit.
very excited about that
especially since i got my taxes all figured out!
im working on a new poem
inspired by suheir hammad.
its called suheis manifesto
tell me what you think.
talk to you soon!
check out the website to see the calendar of events
and keep stroking. the pen that is.
mahogany l. brownewww.mobrowne.com

Suheir’s Manifesto
There are ways to make him want you
Make him fiend for your attention
Desire your curves beneath his touch
Softness surrendering to hardened flesh of forcefulness
Burning like infernos
Like oil and lust
Still, there are more ways to love him than beneath covers
While rivers flood with parasites
Eating the lining of babies intestines
Raging within Africa’s womb
Their cries sound like war
And the reserves have yet to come
While we lay arms tangled
As sins singe our sheets and tear our whispers to shreds
We breathe without burden
Never harboring the weight of our freedom
We push promises of change into each other
Mixing sweat till our nightmares are lulled away
It’s easier that way
To forget Nina Simone songs and truth
To disillusion our history with fairy tales
Like hansel and gretel aren’t really child prostitutes from Vietnam
And we aren’t really ex slaves
Translucent shackles encrusted on car rims
Index fingers and
Around our necks
The revolution has nothing to do with our bling
We think
As we fuck viciously
Teeth and skin and moans
Between us
Flesh slapping like church congregated hallelujah’s
We rejoice30 minutes between each hail mary
never once whispering ideas of revolution to each other
as you lick me until pink parts reveal themselves
I swallow until both of our appetites are filled with sighs
the void never completely filled
still we continue bartering our limbs to the pleasure of each other
rather than the struggle of a people
at daybreak
whilewe share fresh fruit, croissants
and coffee at the morning’s sunrise
2 teenage bodies are located in a dumpster
100 young children starve to death
a husband murders his estranged wife of 3 years
while their sons sit in the next room
and we sit, fingers still sticky from last night’s exchange
it's such a shame, we think, that the world is so hard to change

copyright 2004 (www.mobrowne.com)