72 hour fix

it's been 3 days

i ve missed you

but there has been no space in this shell for you

yes you, my lovely blog

summer almost never allows our affair to continue
as passionately as its summer existence

im sorry -- that's just how it is.

so today - i offer you this.

a briggie breakdown of the past events!


i had so much fun with my ATX girls. it's a trip. i have to hang out with women to miss them and these mothers, writers, travelers, comedians -- are the shyt! THEY made me laugh more than i them. and i didn't mind the applebee's, sylvia's, dayo's to carolina bbq fiasco. or the shoe shopping execursion that left me $300 bucks in the hole! it was fun. every last moment. especially when they finally got to dig into mike's diner and foam at the mouth over that french toast!

we had those moments. where we fell into each other -- exasperated and full of inspiration. they were here for the youth slam nationals. and whether i was judging a slam or we were throwing back coffee -- every moment was priceless.

so yea, i decided. i want them to move here already. its only fair.

so this is my post to you ladies. the women that have wonderous relationships with their beautiful daughters and sons, the mothers that don't know how to say "um no" or "how bout that" on cue. the sisters that shared the same poetic womb at the apollo - held hands as we cried and laughed and smacked lips for the hell of it.

i swear. if tina had not moved here - there would be no bklyn for me.

here is to ATX driver's licenses, cabana food fest, white chocolate mochas for the love of it and poetry. i'll miss ya'll...

library minutes left: 16

another class to teach. but i am an hour early so i thought i would take advantage of the computers here...

so let's start from sunday, no?

sunday
was cool. i had brunch with esther before heading back to meet with nathan p in bklyn
the brunch @ dayo's in the village was gorgeous. amari had too many collard greens - if you feel what im saying :-P
but it was a nice rainy morning. we left to the air kissing our cheeks and bklyn greeted us with little to no traffic.
i returned from my meeting and laid under him a lil. i forgot what i watched - i concentrated more on being still.

monday
during that brunch with esther - i promised to finish out my gym membership with her. so we decided on 4 days a week to get that fabulous body of mine back in shape. bad idea already. i was late getting there. and after ursula that yoga teacher hurt us for an hour, i ran into a colleague and the trainer for BAD BOY artists who then talked me into more commitement. which aint that bad considering i paid for 7 sessions with a trainer so i might as well take advantage. besides - i trust the brother.
class went well with the kids and we were able to end with enough time for me to head back to my side of bklyn and snatch amari up from school on time.

tuesday
i have an early morning class so my life is a bit easier. the kids always make me feel loved. i am sure. if i ever wanted to be a teacher -- i would have a 3rd grade class. they like to be smart they like feel love and they are always appreciative. youth teen slam has their opening ceremony after my open mic - so im able to greet all my favorite youth writers with open arms and wider smiles before heading to my new girl's outreach workshop... i didnt want to go though - i mean, where else will u get to hear roger's trent lott joint and bob holman's lower east side piece on the same stage? dinner is clinton - still the best dominican food on the L.E.S.!

wednesday
met esther at the gym. let a brazillian beauty work my big ass until i couldnt walk without feelin like i was going to fall out. she did teach us how to walk on the beach when we are fit. still hate working out -- don't get it twisted. now im back to my grind. took my class to view the teen slam's first round of bouts. dont know if they were inspired -- but i was. moment that stayed with me for the rest of the day: (urbanword's group poem) "we lick the air when we're hungry".
ugh -- beautiful!
the slam that night at the nuyo was great! long. but great talent nonetheless. Rachel McKibbens, Mike McGee, Travis and Melvin from the Hawaii team and Austin's whole teen and half of the adult squad was in effect! i got to hang out with Jo and Elsie over some Sylvia's before we all headed back downtown... felt the love again. hurried home -- but not before dropping off some clover oil for relentless and snatching my seed for bedtime.

today
i cancelled my gym time. my hair needed some assistance. it feels better. good to know the ish she put on it aint permanent. the afro will be full throttle soon come :) - i will have to stop taking my locks for granted. they are thick and coarse and full of beauty.

i see it now.

i think

this is what burnt out feels like...

huff

more on that -- busy days, hair appointments to make, the brazillian chick broke me down in that cardio sculpt class and the most wonderful poets on earth are all here in NYC...

excuse me as i download

day 1

im doing the 30 days fitness thingie

so far. i got up @ 730am

got amari ready for school

headed to the gym - got there 40 minutes late

walked the treadmill

rode the bike

then did an hour of jumping grasshopper
or laughing lotus - -something like that

yoga... yea. it hurt

it hurt parts of my ass i didnt know i had

never have i relaxed my cheeks in public

my body still hurts

then i had to go shopping to make myself feel better...

lol

decided to wait on the swimsuits til i was done -- i mean jamaica is coming, no?

then i went to teach class and it was horrific!

mybodyhurtandthekidsyellingaboutidunnowhatmadeitevenworse!
home now.

nap needed so badly. i got big things planned for this week and i dont know where to start

:-/

in pain in bklyn

brokeback mountain...finally

yea, yea, yea -- i watched it.

it was acutally ok. im glad i waited until after it left everyone's baited breath. cause i hate overkill! but surprinsingly it was good. and not just about the man sex. but about not following your heart.

funny. i saw the same love story in bridges of madison county. except she didn't die. she only stayed with her family.

so we sat there. watching him kiss the dude and his wife watch in horror.

now i don't even like to say difference between white and black women are (though we know there is one, we won't go there)... but what i will say is

AWW HELL NAW! she watched them kiss. then watched him walk out the door, gleefully. she sat there and watched them go out for 4 years on -- without saying anything until she was remarried with another child on the way! say what? naw, it wouldn't happen like that - i'm saying. i don't know how to hold in ish like that!

i have a hard time telling someone the truth about their POEMS what the hell i look like sitting there waiting for my husband to come back from his weekend getaway with his lover (didn't matter that it was a man at that point. cause cheating is still cheating).

now the parts that had something of its own, were the homophobic homosexuals... that was a trip. however - it wasn't investigated as much as it could've been. though - the death of him seemed like a hit rather than an accident was a bit alarming.

but like all romantic movies there comes a time where you bond with the characters and figure out in your heart if you want them to REALLY be together.

My Best Friend's Wedding, i so wanted them to be together. i mean cameron diaz was cool - but him and julia had history - ya know?

Dirty Dancing & Ghost - he just can't never keep the lady - can he? cried both movies like a sucka -- i so wanted them together.

Love Jones - wanted them together. duh

Carmen Jones - wanted him to stay with HIS ORIGINAL WOMAN! carmen was a fox - but she was no good for him, remember?

Bridget Jones Diary - the first one, i wanted her with the asshole dude. and when she got with the lawyer - i didn't get it. he had lil emotions, etc... but he was good to her. so i liked that part. however in the sequel - i was happy that she was with the lawyer and when she almost slept with the asshole again - i was fearful (though in the book they were a COUPLE COUPLE)...

Brokeback Mountain - did i want them to be together...? i think so. they were breaking these other hearts without caring about the affect. here is wife is -- sleeping with him afterwards, knowing that he only smiled when he was with this "other" man -- and that can fuk with anyone. so yea, i think i really did want them to be together. though it was in the '60s and obviously the hostile climate towards gay men (the story of the man with this groin pulled from his body was blood curling) was even more bleak than before we were able to cite Rosie O'Donnel, Will & Grace and Ellen's lifestyle as history markers.

i believe in love. no matter what body or soul. what i continue to despise are the untrues attached to the selfishness. the act of deceit. never the love. one can't stop who their heart wants - now can they?

it was like

a movie.

except for the couple that kept falling off beat
they made me laugh until my steak and potatoes
fell off the fork.

he didnt mind so much, though im sure he liked me
laughing - hard and girlish (yes at the same time).

it was a beautiful night overall. juniors cheesecake
to top it off
and a walk thru NYC night life.

i didnt think about my mother once... atleast, not til just now. i didn't hear from her. not that i expected to. but i didn't. and it didn't bother me until -- well, just now. i thought about our last big altercation. the one that made me disown her, again.

our history is serious. i will write about it soon. not now. not when the freshness of his kiss lingers. and beauty of turning a brilliant age is blinding. i won't press into the past - the parts that don't hurt at all -- until i touch them.

not yet anyway...

on turning - a birthday mantra

i shouldn't write this to you

not when you've found so much beautiful
in your life
in your walk

look at you woman

love it like the making of a masterpiece
you have flourished as only you can


love those that love you most
love those unable to love themselves

check beneath the bed for monsters
clean them out with the old panties

buy new ones that fit like skin
flaunt the ones in your favorite mirror
the one with the crack that shows every stretchmark
yea, that one

smile from ear to ear
laugh and then squeeze your stomach
push inward with the breath that you've never
thought would taste so young
and pose

***


i am officially a grown woman. though you couldn't have told me otherwise after i moved into my first place @ 18 years old. or when i let a man move in because we were "in love". or after i picked up my bags and set off for the big apple.

but sitting here. watching our new addition to the family "Cataline Cumulous" the kitten, only weeks old, meow like a maniac as amari tends to her every need and he sleeps, loudly. i know this may be the part that the books and the elders once talked about.

the beauty in the small things. the joy in car ride down the FDR listening to soft rock stations when HOT 97 only plays "gettingsomehead". or the gorgeous laughter that ripples my flesh when we relive london, amsterdam, poland, germany, austin, baltimore, california, miami: riots, poetry parties, beach walks, train hoppin', boat tossin', feel good moments.

i am blessed. and this day just projects those blessings even more. i have met incredible people. i have been inspired to live big and brilliant and in colors only my heart can paint. no names have been attached to these hues and i pride myself in this.

someone told me that this age - would be the definitive point of my life. i will feel absolutely beautiful and aged to perfection. i wonder if my expectations will lower? will i douse their existence in the harsh glow of potential - or let them be who they are. probably the latter. changing people is a hard occupation - and a full time gig, at that. but i can see the addiction to the nurturing process. and i stretch for the ripe sun touching my fingertips against the fatness of possibility.

i have been molded by several hands. but settled into my own role years ago. this full of fat composure i keep attached to my hips remind me of all that i've lived through. the addiction my mother lives, the prison that kept my father safe from himself, the grandparents that raised me when their own were incapable, the siblings that irked me and loved me with the same intensity, the men who taught me to love beyond them, the daughter that loves me unconditionally, the man that teaches me to love in spite of, the friends that always suprise me with their candor and ears and smiles and kind words, the persons that resemble enemies on a clear sunny day - for they have no idea how to be better to themselves, still i am tired of being upset. no judgements. just observation (CB). no regrets only lessons. no presumptions no expectations. i will wait for the light to spew rays of truth like lavender water. like fire.

like i got this shyt on lock. cause i do.

bklyn birthday girl -- stand up

today i realized

the air is not as pure as it seems

neither are her best wishes

the smell of tomorrow is lacking

the flavor that today promised

i watch babies bury their faces into water

splashing dreams like it's been forever

since they smiled this big, until the next time --

they will smile that big

and i will be watching

rubbing my growing stomach

and pain striken heart like a globe

he called me goddess. said i was beautiful

enough to propose via wires never touching

my browning brown before

i almost believed him -- til i thought of

this life

this now

this...this

this inexplicable pulse fighting my thighs to pry apart for want

this hurried feeling of life soaring out my mouth spreading my tongue like wildfire to brush

this something. so unimaginable until the minutes stop passing so quickly

and all i can think is this ... this

makes me feel

makes me

feel

something

*******

that is the everything that happened this weekend. the crazy email proposal i got. the trip to the theme park with my daughter and her friend for spring break. the welcome home hug. the turning of three decades.

look

i got too much going on to even hassle ya'll

fa real.

let's just say - i've grown mountains within the last week.

u would be proud

loveumo

I Don't Know What To Say

so i won't say anything...

but i will tell you that i'm headed to NYC biggest egg hunt, oh i'm sorry -- the world's biggest egg hunt that happens to be in NYC...

Amari is psyched. And i'm still tired from last night's sheningans.

but we aren't talkin about that -- remember?

and this writing thru the frustration and helpin' either. urgh

ARGH

im still sleepy.

motherhood calls - we'll talk soon

JAM WIT ME -- pleez?

Jam On It: Poetry
present

STALKERS AND LOVELETTERS

followed by Birthday Party (more drinks & lotsa dancing) for Mahogany L.
Browne...

Featuring:

Soul Evans - Founder of Poetcd.com, international poet & poetry aficionado
(regardless of how tipsy - he be)...
Devynity - member of 2004 Nuyorican Slam Team & emcee
Andrew Tyree - 2005 Nuyorican Grand Slam Champ (as seen on Sp!t the movie)
Helena D. Lewis - 2002 Nuyorican Slam Team and Writer, performer and
producer of the One Woman Show "JUST ME"

hosted by MOBEEZY
music by: Droopist DaRiddlah

Saturday, April 15th
Chashama Theatre
217 East 42ns St (2nd & 3rd)


Doors open @ 9:45pm
Show starts @ 10pm SHARP
Party begins @ Midnight - til

Tickets - $15


www.jamonitpoetry.com

because i owe you this...

here is a kiss.

knowledge full and free of malarkey. i like that word. it makes me think of london.
i like london. even moreso now. (im sorry kenji. i didnt know). but life makes you wonder
what would you do without it. without breathing in between the madness.
without the shopping of new records for your turntables (droop) or the shoe shopping that
only us girls get (tee tee). or the poem that makes your insides flutter (live mik) or the poem edit that makes you ready to take on the mic, take on the world -- nUKKA WHAT? now that's a metaphor (relent).

today. i taught a class and one of my students gave me a hardboiled easter decorate egg. i got all teary-eyed. even moreso when i told them we only have 6 more classes together. they give me hugs every time they see me. i close my eyes a lil' - hold them tight - praying i can superglue their innocence to the inside of their sleeves if we hug a bit longer... hope it works

im waiting for the notices to be sent out. i am nervous about the album - its being mixed down as we speak. i get goosebumps when i think of the new love that will be made to that album. the love and heart and soul and sweat and sweat and worry and love that went into that album. im still holding the title to my breasts. feels like breastfeeding all over again. but i will tell you soon. the artwork will be ready in another week and i well let you taste it all at once. i hope it fills you like it feels me...

i am excited about my upcoming week off. we will have JAM @ Chashama Theatre and my birthday party will serve as the afterparty. i wish you could make it friends from londonaustindenverseattleconneticutoaklandchicago... i miss your faces glowing with jokes and laughter and snide jesters that glare to the unknown "I AM AN ARTIST".

until tomorrow...

bklyn tv hogg'n it

in the race

recovering from bad breaks
and mikes diner.
too many classes not enough time to talk to friends

beautiful outside
ugly inside

was that an autononym?
is that how you spell it?

im drifting -- need to be outside with the computer.

dont wanna miss the speaker's engagement in austin - but i might have to... damn
jamaica is a definite. tickets are bought - we are slimming up for a reason.

be back after these other two classes

damn

sitting

procrastinating. i have laundry to finish washing and folding. ugh
i cleaned most of the house - feel so much like a maid. i hate that - but i also hate
waiting for the blink contest to end...

feel like writing.
feel like fucking.
what's the difference?

feel like something else is runnin' my insides cold.
like my emotions arent my own.
sometimes -- they aren't and i lash out.
find soft flesh to feel the wrath of this inexplicable

love the uneasiness - its sexy when i least expect to be beautiful
i dont notice it til someone points it out - after i watch a reality show - read a bad poem - receive an ugly email - laugh at an asinine blog comment... that's when i feel it.

that's when i feel conflict
they say i react most under those circumstances
i say that's how i was raised

@ 16 i fought a drug dealer, a couple of crack heads and lost my mother -- what do you expect?

my students read this. so i should watch what i say, no??
then that would just be a facade. and i have too many of those already.
i want them to see this human shield.
this pain
this unknowning
this life
i want them to feel like its ok to have a hard day
its ok to be at the edge
as long as you see the beauty in stepping away from the crumbling rock with your dignity
your sanity
your life
bundled at your feet. a heavy, lovely mess
but it's yours to figure out
to straighten with tedious filanges
to feel the strain of pressure
drain it with each tug
fill it back
feel the life - torn of something real

Article: KELIS (2000)

She called me a “bitch” without hesitating. She called me a “bitch” after instructing me to remove my shoes before I entered the brownstone and left an imprint of the concrete jungle’s soil on her light cream rug. She slapped my hand in a systa hi-five and said, “Bitch, you are crazy.” This time insanity wasn’t an insult.

Born twenty years ago in the borough that birthed the Harlem Renaissance, Kelis Rogers gained notoriety after the world wide acceptance of her debut single “Caught Out There”. The inspirational forget-him-girl anthem caused marketing teams throughout the record industry to rethink their bubblegum girl clone campaign. “It’s half-realistic and half-storytelling,” answered the braided beauty about the hit single. Her freshman album Kaleidoscope ventures through unconditional love to urban days and nights and reflects the vision of a Nina Symone meets Sara Vaughn hybrid. Although the wild chile’ accompanies an embryonic addition of R&B condoning the lifestyle of the “pay my bills” chickenhead, her wisdom is saturated with a Donnie Hathaway “I love you more than you’ll ever know” maturity.

Kelis’ acceptance of responsibility has evolved into a second-nature characteristic after having to fend for herself. She worked a part-time job while attending high school full-time. “I moved out at age sixteen,” she began. “I grew up in a church family and my dad was a minister. I was going against everything they believed in and it was time for me to grow up and take responsibility [for myself].” She exhales slowly before traces of “herbal” essence shadow the red bone belle. But when you look past the smoke and into her sleep-deprived eyes, there lies the story of a girl who rented rooms from a crack-addicted prostitute. Within the folds of her deep fuschia curtains and overstuffed pillows lies the story of a girl who moved in with her boyfriend and his father after bouncing from place to place, all before the woman-child could purchase a bottle of Hennessey.


In an era where female entertainers tend to enhance their breast size in attempts to conceal their lack of talent, Kelis’ slim-figured frame hides from the future demise of the gift-less. Her love for the art flows through her veins like water for chocolate.
“Music is an important part of my life and I make music so people can enjoy it.” She peeks past the curtains and stares momentarily. “I can’t stop poverty, fire Giuliani, or keep families together, but I can help people feel good.”

Kelis’ appreciation for the craft of music can be attributed to several sources. The fact that she associates time with music reveals a sense of serenity usually possessed by true artists. Generation of children can trace their most loved or undesirable characteristics to their parents. Kelis’ appreciation for the craft of music comes from her late father, a hobby saxophonist. She smiles at the mere thought of collaborating with him. “I would love to have worked with Biggie, Marvin Gaye, Sara Vaughn and my Dad.” And when her respect and love for melodious renditions act as her flotation device in troubled waters, Kelis retreats and practices the art of listening. Reliving the disappointment she felt when the verdict of the Amadou Diallo case was released, she remembers playing the only CD that related to her pain. “I put on the new Dr. Dre cause there was nothing I could say and it made me really mad.” Her usually red-tinted hair is highlighted with several shades of green and the beads clap in an eerie unison. “So to keep from breaking down, I popped in some good shit to help me through it.”

I get so weak…I lose control, it takes over me… Kelis stomps around her four-room domain while harmonizing SWV”s “Weak”. Her thoughts are on the essence of a man, the existence of a Black Man, and how she can’t live without them. Hitting notes that only the walls surrounding her can catch, the aged soul can’t help but hum a tune of satisfaction. We sit around munching on Cheese Nips and talk over the music videos playing in the background, sparring over who’s the hottest Black Man with talents to match. Bad Boy’s Carl Thomas? “I tried to steal his CD from my friend the other day,” she giggles. What about the original Blackstreet’s Dave Hollister? “Love him,” she says, shifting positions. “But he got slept on. You know Number 11. That’s my song.” And the list continues, from entertainers to actors and to her labelmate D’Angelo. “As soon as I got to Vrigin [Records], I was like, “I’ve got to meet him.” But once I met him, I had to walk away, cause he’s just so sexy.” Hi-fives are exchanged and schoolgirl laughter fills the air.

“I get so weak in the knees I can hardly speak…”

“You don’t understand how much I love me a New York nigga,” she says, skipping the politically correct terminology. “I’ve been with real nice down South, Detroit and California niggas, but the New York nigga just does it for me!” The way their Timberland boots sound when walking down the block. The way their white T’s (nicknamed wifebeaters) hug their tight torso’s. The way they serve sweet nothings on the unsuspecting ears of female admirers. Oh yea, she’s got a Jones and like her D’Angelo, it won’t leave her alone.

Look in the air – It’s a bird! No, it’s a plane! No, it’s Thunderbitch!

Her ghetto girl wisdom is incorporated into any conversation with ease. After countless interviews and misinterpreted articles, Kelis acknowledges the politics of her newfound lifestyle and calls a spade a spade. “I invite them [journalists] into my home, so they can see me in my element. And when I look at the articles, it’s comes out like I’m this mad female,” she frowns, “or this bad bitch”. Wrongfully nicknamed “Thunderbitch” by a writer without a clue, the outspoken soul-stirrer states, “There is no word for a strong man,” she continues, “but the word for an overly assertive woman is a bitch.” Her eyes narrow before she adds, “And if being determined, honest and successful make me a bitch, then so be it.”

Before Kelis arrived on the scene, her kind has been handpicked and closely watched. Intimidation usually registers within the first few months, and the “chosen one” become the label-ready puppet but Kelis shrugs effortlessly and cuts the strings and demands to be heard - holding the puppeteers at bay. “It’s not an easy being a woman in a male dominated industry. I’m always the only female in a sea of niggas,” she grins like the cat who ate the canary. “But a lot of people don’t understand women like Lauryn Hill and Mary J. Blige are running this shit,” she smirks before rephrasing. “They don’t realize Black women are running this shit, but we are.”

metro-what?

christa been talking to me about this madness that is the mercury metrograde and i promise you -- i aint believe her...until today.

everything that could go wrong. did
including
getting lost in the BX
missing my first class by 10 minutes
too early for my last class - which cancelled the project ANYWAY

and the snow flying fistfuls into Bedstuy
its APRIL DAMMIT! why is it snowing when it's called april spring

esther and i agreed - the world is coming to an end!

cant wait for the kids finals, JO and Korim will be repp'n ATX which means i get to see my Austing crew :)

and im writing. in my dreams. in my sleep. from the walks to school and back. i am too busy to think of the naysayers, the slumlord or the deadbeat.

april 15th is the next show. i have t-shirts printed and books in editing. i am living my life as i once hoped. minus the really dope loft house (as seen on FRIENDS sitcom). but - i am here.

bklyn n back

still winding down

feel like shakira's hips must

tired...taut...still dope if i must be --
but worn out, nonetheless

writing must wait

i have workshops up the kazoo

right before summer it gets this way

everyone is trynna to finish up their budgets
before the year is up and the money is snatched back

schedule as it goes

mon: 2 workshops
tues: 4 workshops
wed: 3 workshops
thursday: 3 workshops
friday: DAY OFF DAMMIT!
saturday: 2 workshops
sunday: 1 workshop

so yea. i have journals to finish compiling. a show to prepare for on april 15th and some sleep to catch up on...

deep

sleep. is all i want.

home
again

in love -- as always - with life
and coffee
and his breath
and her smile

lab work for the album - count it
10 hours

but its fabulous
and Vwitchcraft was like settling
in a bath before the temperature cools
we formed something magnificent
something that will withstand time

i am spent...
the red eye flight only carried my body here
to find my heart
but my spirit is still in denver with my sis Baa

she is dope
beyond the madness - she makes life make sense

i need sleep
i sound crazy, i know -
for now, i am well

and thinking of you