Wednesday, November 28, 2007

nothing really...

today i had to come home early cause amari was sick. she has a big day on saturday with the entrance exams into a performance/gifted school. pray for us. this is the school that will be our second option, but its all about having options, right?

i have a row of things to tackle, but i cant wrap my head around it.

our new party starts this friday and my nerves (pms'n) are thru the roof. im moody, unsure, dissatisfied and ready to flip at all moments. that doesn't change the fact that i'll be hosting an event featuring saul williams this saturday! that makes me happy -- but then, i hope i have enough motrin to hold me down.

my sister has appointed me as the host of her bridal shower. and you're probably thinking, huh? well yea. she has not 1 and not 4 matron's of honors - but 3. and in all seriousness, those are the persons that were suppossed to be in charge of these things. but two of them moved to this side of the world and i guess my matching dna makes me the next best candidate. i still have to lose 15 more pounds. the holiday season didnt help my efforts, though i am fitting an entire jean size smaller.

huff. this is me when i dont know what the hell to do with myself. i still have a column to finish, some editing to dive into and im trying to ignore the sweet potato pie's whispers. oh yea, im ignoring the yellow cake with chocolate frosting too.

yea. ignoring it all - like a champ...

Monday, November 26, 2007

This Friday, Afterhours SPOT!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

DVDs just $5

DVDs For SALE - everything: $5
im doing inventory on my life and my dvd collection. i dont have friends to buy - but i do have dvds :)

just $5 a piece:

The Punisher


Melinda & Melinda

The Rules of Attraction

Me and You and Everyone We Know

The Gift


Walk The Line

Failure to Launch

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Hit Me

13 Conversations About One Thing

Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban

Number 23

The Chronicles of Narnia



Carlitos Angels

Nine Lives


Kids In America

Pan's Labyrinth

Lucky Slevin

Clerks II

Wassup Rockers

No Vacancy

Saturday, November 24, 2007

brooklyn burn out

when we wakes to find our stomach lining
churning with all the indecisions of an

burning our throats with pumpkin stained

how important will your swagger really be,

after you perch your lightbulb busted dreams
against the backdrop of brooklyn

climb from behind all their expectations
and leave babylon with your empty words?

Thursday, November 22, 2007

fracture (WIP)

the night i stopped loving you
was quiet
like most nights are
i was alone wrestling with these
feelings again -- and you were
where the night always finds you
with another nameless her

i have never been able to catch up with ghosts
the shadow of a woman's shape

the night i stopped dreaming of you, was
full of empty imprints of where you once slept
or sat
or sang me a tune
resounded carelessly before crashing against the
bare walls

where was your mother to read me your instructions
how to fix your smile
which screw to tighten
how to fine tune your thoughts with this love

no one would give me a hint
left no clues to find the empty treasure of a heart
still filled with shadows and all rotting carnage that
came before me,

simple liar.

you looked to the heavens and asked God for another

and there i stood
grin and bloody pen in hand
waiting to write us the happy ending
instead, i could only find the words for the
poem i wrote, the night i stopped loving you

(reading a lot of books @ once. writing from the perspective of the she's, as usual. its so easy to write what you know, i guess. still figuring out how to end this without it being wacky or trite).

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

freezer burn

there are moments in your life when you forget about being adult enough. when you would rather the recourse of lashing out in attempt to salvage your name and your respect. insulating yourself is something you learned in grade school, but as an adult, have only practiced when walking alone at night from the red trains in brooklyn. this is when you remember those that held you like a crystal, smoothing over your edges and gasping "you are still beautiful" no matter the jagged edges you've tossed to those that wish you harm. and if the dried blood every put them at unease -- they never let on. so i guess this is where i should show my gratitude for those someones that have looked in my eyes and said "I know" and "How can I help", even where there was nothing to do but sit there, and shield me for a minute.

this act of pure maternal wisdom is always hard to find. it will indelibly separate the meaningful people in your life. because most of the time, the things that cause them to say those same words, are rarely worth the breath they are made of. the instances that quicken your breath and fight your lungs for space will rarely become a blip on the map that will later become your life. this -- won't even make the autobiography. not even a chapter explaining the reason you will have since stopped hugging in public. nor will a paragraph outline the difficult time during your career, the moment you knew you were going to be big because "who really has time for this high school shyt anyway?" not a sentence. a meaningful utterance. nothing. but this. a warning.

a warning to yourself that your mother taught you better. there had to be a day, so many years ago you forgot it, like the name of the boy you danced with at the homecoming dance. maybe brief and meaningful - in its moment, but forgetable and hardly worth the image you would unsuccesfully masturbate to. the words your mother must have told you when complaining about the girls that pretended to be your friends until they decided they'd rather fight the well liked and popular girl for a chance to gain a newfound and fearful type of popularity. and how you cried, for being misled, before of course you pick up a garbage can and tossed it at the biggest one. even then. your mother will ask you - "who was there to help you?"

because no one gets jumped and walks away friends with those that watched.

this is when you defend your friends "she was so big," and "they were probably scared" fall, flutter than collide on the doorstep of her ears. deaf. i would like to presume this is the moment where my mother was so eloquent in relaying the message that would later resonante so loudly in my bones, that i reverberated its honesty when teaching my own children. and it would become the family joke when making cups of Swiss Miss hot chocolate, this timeless antecodote, that i would later share with my daughter, so that she too could learn to protect herself from moments like this.
my mother said: "Anyone that will watch someone do you wrong, is not your friend."

and later. in my 3rd decade, in a kitchen in brooklyn. those same words will bounce off the walls as i try to scour some honesty out of it all. but there is no way to pretty up the ugly. and there are no room in this chapter for fence stragglers. without remorse i can recognize the beauty of a horizon from afar, through pictures, and memories of how i once captured that moment. but i will always know this is how the view looked before i turned my back, because the silent shadows will always fade into the landscape. and the insulation that i've been blessed with will settle into its beautiful permanance. and my circle will become a little bit smaller -- to keep out the cold.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

wishful thinking

he will never know how it felt;

you waiting

wingless wonder of a wishful night

or the tips of your eyelids

wet, from knowing.

he cares more about the gloom

the curve of a dissenting incubus

than the lips that you will always


without regret

he will never loves you beyond the burden

the cold shoulders

the double guessing

the things that throw your axis

into the abyss.

if it is silence he seeks,

he will find you,
star struck
and windpipe torn,

by your own bloody self-less hands

while you search the distant and absent eyes

for a man that works well with his hands

takes pleasure in holding the small of a woman's back

in his embrace

before cradling her face

and smothering her breath

with his own.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Delusional Feminism

New acornym I found while surfing... And it gets worse people, I promise. My vagina is going on protest from being a vagina. She wants to be called something else. Maybe: gevilta or pusanique? Hell I don't know... but when women boasts about being a bitch. I laugh. And when they start using acronyms (I think Eve set it off with the Being In Total Control of Herself) I wonder... When did you bump your head?

So yea, the newest acronym promoting an idiotic style of feminism:






Now, would you please -please - please help me out. I need to believe we have a better day ahead of us. Cause moments, and the broadcasting of I LOVE NY2, Deelish on the cover of any magazine (as up) Pepa (of Salt n Pepa's) new nose and Lil Kim's newfound face like this look like the beginning of the end for women.

Thursday, November 08, 2007


Day 4: Sheffield (Memories)


While this college town had incredible hosts, and a light audience, I was prepared to eat anything but prawn mayo sandwiches. After running across tracks to catch a tram going in the right direction, I wasn't too concerned with anything else than the neon sign welcoming people into the restaurant. That's I knew I was passing a chinese buffet spot that I would deal with later, but I kept feeling like the night was going to be wierd. I asked some students upon exiting the train where the student center is, and I swear its a set-up. The alleys are dark and narrow and the lights seem to reach over the shadows into the next street, not really paying the alley in mind, as if it were an uncool kid in high school. I make it to where I need to be and soon the show begins. It is the last show, but not the best. The screen work is off, but we make the best of it and depart immediately after the show, because I can't stop thinking of that buffet spot. We make it to the restuarant 20 minutes before they close and eat like it's a contest. It is a great closing to a great trip with the fellas. I still have 4 days and two shows in London before I go home. But I can't help but think that I'll miss my Bristol homies. Older, White, English clumps of Artist-Men. They make me laugh as if I were watching a Benny Hill episode. Unsure, tickled and in awe. Tomorrow I board a train to London. Sammy, my homegirl has promised hang time: shopping, eating and movies, of course. This is what excites me. This is what makes the bag seem lighter than the 40 pounds filled with clothes, new shoes *from penzance* dvds and books from logan, and smiles tucked deep into my belly.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

missing flights: oakland apology

american airlines is the epitomy of our country. it is too busy, too maniacal, overwhelming and it is here, at jfk terminal, that i missed my flight. i ran for over an hour and a half. just to be told id be on a standby flight, which wouldn't get me into Cali until 2 hours AFTER my workshop! good effort though ...

this is the part of the life that i dont miss.

i was extremely excited about my misogyny and women in the arts workshop. the resources, the discussion, the research prepared -- was the most excitement i've had, since college. i am sorrowful and feel as if im at the wake of my own family.
im watching jaws right now. i presume the fish is the metaphorical airline company chomping away at my livelihood, feasting on the flesh of my missed opportunity...