leaving

for jamaica -- see ya in 10 days :)

please

be safe...

mannn

im sick.
no matter. i gotta pack. talk to jive's class. wash clothes. team regional at the bowery tonite. and smile - to keep the haters on their toes. operation kill 'em wit
kindness is in affect.

yo, biters

fa real... sux

i see you kidd

for the record

i dont hate you.

i hate what you do. the wrong that you allow to
dictate your actions into violence.

the words that fall from lips
untrue, in a hurry to paint you lovely,

vanity has never been a trait of pride

i hope you find the adult in you
growing more ready for this world's

withering facades don't pass
slam scores will never be the amount
of greatness or worthlessness

i hope you learn to sleep at night,
i do.

right when i started to stress,

no one is coming - producing shows in the summer sucks, people are wack!

we had an incredible crowd of people that filled the room and left their

grudges at the door.

it was a blessing. the entire evening.

here is me learning how to doubledutch, again

thunderous

its gonna rain cats and dogs today
and i have a class to teach.

actually, its 3 classes, as i am
stepping in for a colleague -- so yea
3 hours of kids. so not excited!

that said,

more lovely news. i have been commissioned
to host the Black August Concert this year.

the bad thing about it - i'd have to leave
the Nationals on Sunday, rather than chillin'
there for a couple of more days as planned.

but work and opportunity be like that...
sorry live mik :(

what else -- o great, we are now on storm
watch
im so unexcited

focal point

right now
im behind...

im losing this race
and im lettin' cats get to me

stop

breath

again

ok

good things have happened in the midst of all the madness.

i will be producing a tour for a reputable movment - more on that in 2 and 2

i will be co-producing our brainchild's year anniversary! niiice

and i will be publishing 3 books before August: MY OWN, BIG MIKE & the anthology HIS RIB

i am stressing, cause i am trying to have my body catch up with my brain.

but, they keep tripping my wires

like rats do -- in occupied buildings.

YOU BORE ME

this is the beginning of the end.
i am unsure if i want to keep this up
this front

the one that speaks to people
posing as poets
arguing the devices with mispronouciation

i hate NY for that
bringing in a generation
that assume they

got this shyt on lock
without study
or respect or skill, barely talent

you are a failed rapper
i think.
any bum on any given

A train is talented
when you goin' make God proud?
then the drama follows

the things that fall out of
of order;
out of a teenagers mouth,

combusting into gossip
that will be served with beer
and shots of tequila

upset my stomach
brim over my conscious
make me laugh when alone

as if i could be any less sane
than now
but i know the talking

is
just a sign
that im doing it write

that is for the vultures. once i have returned from nationals. i will spill the beans. honestly. i would do it now, if i wasn't trying to be an adult about it. but then again, by the time nationals is over, i will have forgotten about it because honestly. it's boring already.

this breakdancing baby is the BEST! enjoy his cuteness

before you assume

anything more than this is just another blog. don't.
this is a happy medium. i've had few days where life
just
is.

i like it.
not expecting the worse.
though i have been missing my child
immensely.
i call her constantly
and worry just as much.

i feel silly most times
then sometimes - i feel like
how could i not worry.
after working at a group home
and for the many non-profits that
protect and provide for children
that have been abandoned, molested,
and beaten -- i am always extra sensitive.

as if that's even possible.
but it seems it is.

now i sit in coffee shops
wondering if she misses me
like i miss her
wondering if all this shyt i've
involved myself in
is worth losing out summer time
with her -- then i remember
nyc is cool -- but a kid needs
an alternative

and i love cali for that.
it is home of the bike riding banchees
that are my neice and nephews.
where they smell grass and dirt and pollen
instead of JUST car smoke, asphalt
and tar.

hmph. i dont know where i was going
but i know where i wasn't -- and that's
to the drama filled portion that is my
poetry life. lol

to even separate it like that and give it
a title is hilarious in itself.
but, when things go awry and folks find themselves
losing themselves to the same egos they
condemened...then its time for separation of
church and state.

here's to prayers

in three's

they say the bad news comes in this order... but it hard for me to believe this past month has been a mere count of three. let's see:

1 - first team hurdle, not too much of an upset, but definitely a precedent set for destruction.
2 - second team hurdle, this took 3 weeks to manifest, and when it should have exploded and we walk away carving shrapnel out of our skin -- it imploded, damaging some internal shyt. no recovery as of yet.
3 - third team hurdle, and i thought i would lose it. saw red for a couple of seconds, lost my speech and wanted to start swinging - for no other reason than i could. and it would've made me feel better, instantly. but that's not how adults handle real life ish. ok. breath - count and breath - still counting.

my personal friendships have been the most painful, team slam ish - will pass after august, if anything -- that's just an endurance test -- but friendships, those are what i hope to have for a lifetime. this is the reason i nuture them. implore and challenge the weight.

4. one of my great friends is having the hardest time of her life. and i feel like shyt. i don't know how to help - how to hold her hand, how to hug her... she is a soldier. and she blinks ice in the face of adversity, so even i am a lil' intimidated. but when i saw her face wither and turn to mushy sadness. collage of all the women i knew and loved, i cried with her. i willed her peace. but it didn't matter. she had to finish the course. and the journey left her in another country. i worry of her. and she offers text messages of safety in return.
5. this beauty reminds me of me. the pain, the unknowing, the hurt, the confusion, the blame, the why and the why nots. her will to make it thru the prickley bush is astounding, and she is human. so i try to help nurses the cuts and bruises, offer miso soup and jokes about vegans... she only laughs sometimes
6. no one thought we would connect how we did. but she is like me in so many ways. and i could not help but be her friend. how do you tell an angel im not interested in you having my back? not as easy -- even under such circumstances. but i wish i couldve figured out a better way to protect her. cracker jack interpretations are only funny when one doesn't yearn for a real answer. and i feel horrible. to know the investment she has made is equal to that farm land in Florida. to admit the foundation is built with selfishness, asbestos and fiberglass, is a harder feat than you might think. i know she is strong enough to maintain. and i know she is strong enough to walk this trail alone, but me knowing and her believing are two different things. so i wait. assured she knows i will help her pick up the pieces whenever she is ready.
7. and then there is 1. our friendship was built on books and coffee. and i enjoyed her love for the word and life. and her unwillingness to participate in the poetry bullshit was even more refreshing. but the sound of her breaking heart, even when she read the general surgeons warning on the side of the box which read: he will break your heart. no, really -- is an uneasy slow scrap of pain. it is the bleeding scab, the black eye, the bruised sternum. the crooked house alone with shattered windows. and she is beautiful struggling to maintain her presence. struggling to find herself. again and again, she will fail. she has not learned how awkward her beauty is, yet. but when she does - she will feel better about times like this. when she cried. when she wallowed in pity. when she was slapped out of the idea of happily ever after. then she will fall in love with the happily right fuck'n now. and she will shine. i can't wait to see it.

and i was told that i need to have more me time. the love of my life says i am too involved. too personal. he is right. he is right more often than i give him credit for - but i see him. i peeped him for all his mystically correct splendor. so when he said keep cats out ya pocket. i should've listened.
8. but i trusted her. and thought conversations about life would remain as patchwork for betterment, not ammunition to spill secrets. i don't know how to look at her the same. i wish her the best. she is brilliant, but she needs room to grow.
9. he became a person that i didn't know. someone i had no idea could existe behind such admirable words. or maybe, he was always that person. just on his best behavior? the less i think about it - the better i feel. the more i feel. i wish him well.
10. my sister can be a damn maniac. she is overbearing and loud and bossy. but she is my sister. and now that she is in love, and talks of marriage - all she wants is my support. which is offer - wholeheartedly. but her new half is not my type of person. he made mistakes in the past that reflect a manipulative character. but she is happy. so i am happy for her. however, a decision i made recently which would separate us from interacting has made her sad. sadder than i ever expected. and if i could swallow the decision whole and take back her tears i would. probably. but there is a part of me, that has tired of giving in. i just want to be left alone. chill with my family and if they have their significant other that irritates me, i will remove myself without drama. without any extra additives. i thought that would put her at ease. i usually am all about MAKING YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE if i dont like you. but something happened recently. i grew up. and realized i am an adult. and adults don't have time to worry about tiny things like that. she didn't feel the same. because im still nightmarin' about her tears. and i don't know what to do.

so this is what has happened all those blogs ago. i haven't been able to write because i haven't been able to figure it out. and im still wading thru the madness. but i see the light. and i am feeling like i have a prayer. a hope. a reason to be happy. i have a beautiful daughter and an incredible partner. i am blessed. and while i internalize a lot of my friend's problems -- i know that while taxing, this is only how i know how to be.

a couple of days ago, i had a moment of weakness. life was overwhelming and i couldnt think straight. i wanted to be alone. i wanted to work on breathing and farting and being still. but i went against my judgement and helped a friend -- even though i was in ME mode. and it took a turn for the worse. i left her house feeling more distraught than when i was when i initially walked into her house. and i know she meant well. but, it was a moment of clarity. i needed me time and was willing to give it up so easily. my schedule for the past quarter has been trying to say the least, and those moments when i get to just sit and be quiet are few and far between. so i am figuring out a way to rekindle my love relationship with self. i am wearing more dresses and skirts. i am being happy with the gut that i couldnt seem to lose no matter the exercise, eating regiment, relacor or hydroxycut, i am writing my daughter letters and professing my love. he is beautiful. i tell him every second i can. now, i have to start telling me the same thing. i am writing. working on publishing as promised, but focusing on my shyt. it's been awhile. but i have to focus on me.

this is for all those that love hard, play hard and work hard.

how bout that...?

then there was 5

i.
if i ever found the words
to slice from your tongue with precision
i'd use nothing but my claws

ii.
purposeful poet, vengeful for reasons unknown
you could not love the parts that
suited you best

iii.
there is forgiving, then there is forgetting
you need a definition for both
find the ability to blink before reflection
acceptance will remain your highest hurdle,
hate is still the four-letter word that
rocks you to sleep
even, now

iv.
how have you managed?
manchild womanstorm - free spirit
who will welcome you home?
when will your soiled footprints be enough
of a growth spurt?
when will you realize your potential?
when will you let go?

v.
before today, i fought
tooth decaying under pressure,
i your watchdog, guardian, gorilla bitch
-- loyal--
traced the obvious marks back home
funnel cloud remnants of you, lie, shed
like the snake still hissing dark shadow silhouttes
dormant being,
watch your tongue,
the ancestors know the truth.

the drama ensues

ugh...

it' s jacked up mannn

living like i dont see the truth/is murder of my soul/and i wonder when i will stop caring about what he say/she thought/they do/before i throw a couple of fuk it's to the wind/and sit at a cafe/drinking coffee/happy with my decision/heir to hermit life/but that ain't me/love the laughter i can crease into a mother's pain/her confusion clouding around us/i find words that make her forget it/for a second/a couple of minutes/for now/for i remember being her/thoughts crayola'd on my eyelids/ love a fantasy so familiar i could taste the ending/the glass slippers/the ugly step sisters/the witch/but no one told me the prince would be an asshole/that he might save me/create a haven for me/but as soon as the story ended and no one was watching/he'd flip my spirit inside out for good measure/assured i'd never leave/never question his stares/never concerned about his other maidens/hidden between the lines of poetry/no one offered the truth./and now i wonder/why on earth/would i tell her everything/when the fairy tales are enough/and make the lies sweet enough/to swallow whole.

so...like

the "n" word, hmm??

gnarls

barkley makes me happy. i listen to cee-loo croon as if in his bathroom,
in church - with no remorse. i realize i am in love.

again.

new york has treated me beautifully. maybe not all the people i know,
but it has been considerably kind to me. i adore every cobble stone and
broken ankle for it.

but i have been losing sleep lately. not the type of sleep that keeps you
tossing and turning. but the sleep that never comes, because the heat is too
painful to ignore. or the kids outside fighting are too ignorant to ignore.
or the man snoring next to you, is to beautiful to ignore.

either the case. i'm sleepless in bklyn. minus the internet dating. add the
instances of crazy seinfeld friendships over bagels and coffee and book clubs
that rarely discuss the book but more so our life and the poetry. madness and all.

i had to put poetry on a time out.

too tired to fight the powers that are -- i decided to become THE power.
what that means? you will see soon. until then, i have allocated 2 days to
my slam team, 1 day to my hosting responsibilities and the bulk of my time,
energy, heart will go to our production: JAM. he is growing, our child of
wonder.

spreading fingers and toes and giggling with teething gums. a year he will
be in September 2006. then we have the second stage of life waiting to happen --
what is it?
that's a surprise too. but trust me. it's not just for me and him and him and her.

it's for you.

the lover of art.
the aficionado of freedom.
the fan of verbage.

you...are me

forget about it

she did it

and i didnt even cry. just teared up a bit - but nothing huge. and then she called me when she got in from her cell phone. my lil maniac is growing up

gettin' ready

for amari to travel. first time on her own. i am scared and happy and sad and anxious. and at a loss of words