NiggerNot

NiggerNot - because I am Not a Nigger!

Love

Bliss

Did the NiggerNot rule pass?

Young Boi says: You can be my Nig, My Nigga, The Nig, The Big Nigga, The Nica, The Head Nigga...but I can not be a "Nigger"

because a Nigger...I am not.

Old Boi says: Well...lets think about the derivative of the word. If Nig, Nica and Nigga came from Nigger; is it all the same?

Young Boi says: Naw...it ain't the same. Black people are creative people and see what we have done is take the word twist it and cultivate it and made it our own. Much like we do with many words.

Old Boi says: I hear that and I can dig that. But, brotha...Do you understand how much more powerful you can be if wouldn't let this society have such a hold on your mind. See, cuz whether you know it or not...that word use to be insulting to your ancestors and they fought...so you didn't have to live with being called a "Nigger"

Young Boi says: Ain't nobody calling me a "NIGGER"! It i s different when the homie calls me his Nig, that mean he love me and I am his boi. When a white person call you a "Nigger", then they are acting like their ancestors and trying to insult me as a person. I ain't nobody's "Nigger"

Old Boi says: Well...if you ain't a "Nigger" then who...are...you?

Young Boi says: I am a man. I am who my name says I am!

Old Boi says: Is your name Nig, Nigga or Nica?

Young Boi says: No

Old Boi says: Then you ain't nobody's Nigga, Nig or Nica. How do you love dat?

Things are Good!

For a lack of better words: Things are Good!

The last poetry reading of the year was about as empty as a bottle of OLD E in an alcoholic's hand, however; he was there.

There


I made a mistake and kissed him on his lips
He kissed back, There and then later on There
It was a mistake, right...right...now I write.

The last poetry reading of the year was about as empty as bottle of OLD E in an alcoholic's hand, however; he was there.

Watching me, eyes placed intently on me
He likes me now and wants me to be his...
He kissed back, There and then later on There
I think that it was a mistake, right...it had to be, right...now I write.

BULLSHIT POST

Grace and Peace

I could possibly be losing my mind. I have been at work all the DAMN day and I have a sick friend to tend to when I get off. On top of everything that I am going through this Holiday season, I have to sit at work and listen to wanna be coaches argue over the DAMN Biddy Ball League.

If you ask me...only if you were asking me...I think that all of the DAMN coaches are trying to live through these 5,6, and 7 year olds. It is suppose to be a recreational league for the small babies to learn the game...they make it so much more than that.

Ooohhhhhhh...I was so upset this weekend..it was some bullshit!

My car got broken into and they stole all my damn CDs.
I opened up for Toni, Tone, Tony. That was some Bullshit!

On the up and up...

Me and Rodzilla, finally got the chance to perform on the same platform. It was fire! Blessings to my brothers. Love to you Rod. Be @ Peace brotha!

Okay, I am through

Bliss

Praises Are In Order

Through him...that stengthens me. I have faith and guess what? I believe that he will do, what he said he will do.

Praise His Name.

Thank Him

Photography

I use to take pictures.
Thought that one day I would really be good at it.
Thought that somehow God had given me an eye for it.
I use to take it everywhere with me.
It was always there hanging on my shoulder.
Riding in the back seat.
Laying on the counter.
Sleeping in its nest.
I saw beauty in the Chicago Lake front.
I saw beauty in the Utah mountains that covered the football field.
There was something special about the light brown blades of grass that covered City View.
Then...of course there was us.
He was there in every instance and every moving moment.
I snapped him, just like I wanted to snap a butterfly resting its wings and catching its breath.
I loved to look at him from behind the lens.
I could put every square inch of him into a small little box and seal it and preserve it.

I don't take pictures anymore.

Bliss

What I have been working on...

My blog suffers because of school, work and this:


There was something about truth and time, something left wandering around on my insides or taking a hours sleep on the tip of my tongue. Knocking over the less important and then, there standing in a place, created by its ownself. Somehow, I always seem to get the two mixed up...time and truth-their significance becomes tangled and one of them eventually rots. A soothing rot, bound with pleasure and wrapped in strong leaves and vines. I miss home and that, yes, that is my truth. Where times belongs at this time, is a question I dare not know the answer to. It may be skipping over beats or hanging on to the end of poetical stanzas. I may have left it vibing in the venue or sleeping on the church pew. I know that my true truth is that I, yes I, miss home.

I think that maybe it will be there when I walk in the door and there will be a surprise for me. A great surprise...something like a Christmas tree in July heat or a fresh garden planted in the middle of my living spaces. Where will time go then? Crouching deep below the frozen ice of its own damning time. Because even in time, time loses time.

I used to get upset with him when he would label me a clock watcher, the keeper of time or the counter. Now he doesn't say anything, he reads aloud in his study room with the door slowly creeping to an ajar position. He reads aloud to tune me out or to hear his ownself speak. I let loose the chains of time and he, well he is still driven by the foregoing tick tock of the clock.

The Headlines Read...

In Todays news I am sad to report that:

racism is still alive and well. Come on sir, you know full and damn well you didn't have no business talking like that. I wasn't going to touch this subject, but I had to.




Black people and cops just don't get along. I just recently reported on this issue, I will tackle it again at a later date. Rest in Peace to Sean Bell.


The Good Reverend Al Sharpton will not be up for the 2008 election. Honestly, was he serious the first time? He has a fun face!



Obama has critics now. What? I'll kill 'em, I'll nail up by their tails! I'll kill 'em!



Did she really lose her mind and microwave her baby? Somebody better come up with something quick, cuz I am about to trip!

Next time: Students on the campus of UNLV protest to the new English speaking rule up in Pahrump, Nevada, by taping their mouths shut.

Thank you for tuning in to today's news...until next time, it has been an honor and pleasure. Yeah, a honor and a pleasure.

Be blessed

Poetry Venues

Grace and Peace

I have been asked to post the poetry events around the Las Vegas Valley

3rd Fridays - Poet's Corner ( WLV Arts Center) 7:00pm
1st and 3rd Saturdays - Purban Poetry Pulpit (Cafe Hookah) 8:30pm
2nd and 4th Wednesdays -Ice House Poetry (Ice House) 8:30pm
2nd and 4th Saturdays - Untamed Tongues (Bar Code Lounge) 8:00pm
4th Saturdays - Goodtimes Poetry Venue (Wildflower Cafe) 8:00pm
Last Saturday- Black Book Sessions (Money Plays Bar) *more of an open mic from rappers*

questions? ask.

Peace

Thankful!

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and even if you don't believe give up a few thanks!

Even if you do thank every day (which would be a good thing to do) Give up a few extra!

Happy Turkey Day!

I will see y'all in anudda while!

Happy Wednesday!

Road Trip!

Grace and Peace

I took a road trip today, passed by and through a few places.

Straight ahead!

Hook a left at the light!

Get over in your far right lane!

What you say?

Now, you can come on back home!

A Personal Blog

I didn't know what it would be like once I got there, it wasn't any kind of fear...Just the feeling of not knowing. Of course she is warm and has this amazing forgiving smile. A warrior woman with the beds of peace surrounding her insides and curling outward. She is the perfect picture of evolving and growth. I sat there on her couch wanting to snoop around- the paintings where of her own heart and everything means something.

I found myself lounging on couch, when usually womanly instinct would have told me to sit up straight. But, it was okay...Slouching was allowed in this place. The dish she prepared for me was delicious and the cup of tea had me dreaming about sweeter and better days. My shoes were already off, so all the more comfortable all the more...Better.

I found myself seeking advice about a certain male that I wouldn't mind making mine. She told me the secrets...It was good. A warm and cozy nook, thank you!

Do You Know Malcolm

Giving Honor Where the Highest Honor is Due!

*Bliss Says: Today I thought about Malcolm. How he want to walk like Malcolm and talk like Malcolm and how he want to think like Malcolm. He told me that he wish he could move like Malcolm, swing like Malcolm...Make his voice be heard just like Malcolm. Then he say, do you know Malcolm?

Do you really know Malcolm? El Haj Malik El-Shabazz

Do you really know Malcolm? El Haj Malik El-Shabazz

Everywhere you go you see Malcolm on display

In Atlanta or Dallas, from New York to L.A.

His photos on a T-shirt, and you'll always see an "X"

But unless you know his message it's just a pretext

Do you really know Malcolm with his name on your clothes

Or is it just a fashion thing that comes and goes

Do you really know Malcolm or is his name just a word?

**Song written by Phil Morrison**

Malcolm says:

"The Negro revolution is controlled by foxy white liberals, by the Government itself. But the Black Revolution is controlled only by God." -- Speech, Dec. 1, 1963, New York City.

"ItÂ’s just like when youÂ’ve got some coffee thatÂ’s too black, which means itÂ’s too strong. What do you do? You integrate it with cream, you make it weak. But if you pour too much cream in it, you wonÂ’t even know you ever had coffee. It used to be hot, it becomes cool. It used to be strong, it becomes weak. It used to wake you up, now it puts you to sleep." -- "Message to the Grass Roots," speech, Nov. 1963, Detroit (published in Malcolm X Speaks, ch. 1, 1965).

"If violence is wrong in America, violence is wrong abroad. If it is wrong to be violent defending black women and black children and black babies and black men, then it is wrong for America to draft us, and make us violent abroad in defense of her. And if it is right for America to draft us, and teach us how to be violent in defense of her, then it is right for you and me to do whatever is necessary to defend our own people right here in this country." -- Speech, Nov. 1963, New York City.

"I am not a racist. I am against every form of racism and segregation, every form of discrimination. I believe in human beings, and that all human beings should be respected as such, regardless of their color."

"I for one believe that if you give people a thorough understanding of what confronts them and the basic causes that produce it, they'll create their own program, and when the people create a program, you get action."

**Bliss Says - There is Malcolm. Walking and talking and swinging, like he do. Smile Malcolm, for me, Would ya? One day he will be able to walk like Malcolm and talk like Malcolm and ...make his-self be heard just like Malcolm did.

Much respect...keepers of the flame.

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Police!

Grace and Peace

I have been reading about police brutality for past few days and the information that is available to us is alarming. I reside in Las Vegas and who would think that Metro police would be so brutal towards the citizens. I know that I can not and I will not place all officers into my little box, but for those who fit the profile, put the shoe on. I agree that there are some things that we as citizens have to take into consideration when judging officers. I know that you all have families at home and friends, but you can not take on the position of an officer in order to take out your childhood or adolescent frustrations.

In this world there in no one poking at your pimples or chasing you around the lunch hall calling you fat. In this world there are consequences for your actions and yes, you too are under the binding of the law. Fuck your classes and your bullet proof vest! Fuck your addiction to Superman and Batman movies! This is real life and you can not simply enter the game thinking that you can do what you please to people.

Young black men of America are suffering on the account of your hands! Young Hispanic men of America are suffering on the account of your hands! Hell, even some young white men are suffering on the account of your hands! The body count is too many and the bloodshed is too much!

Stand down, shit. When do you stand down, when do you stop and think, when do you learn to try to control the situation. Who told you it was time to go crazy and just start killing people?

THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT TO POLICE OFFICERS THAT PRACTICE BRUTALITY- WE NEED YOU TO STOP!

Turn The Word Upside a Damn Wall

Grace and Peace

I was reading today on BET News how the students at Howard University are calling each other "coons". I assume that this is the latest try at word play for young black Americans. Black Americans turning words that are used as racial slurs into everyday words. To think that this would be taking place at a place of higher education and not to mention at a HBCU. Could "coon" be the next "nigger"?

I have taken the liberty of looking up the definitions and the ideals of "coon". Thank you to Ferris State University for providing some insight, although I will not take incerpts from the actual article I will place some of the images that they provided on their web site.

I found the definition of coon on the urban dictionary site:

A coon is a black actor or actress, who takes roles that stereotypically portrays black people. They think they've made it but they are slaves to the same images. A.k.a selloutIt comes from the term baracoons (a cage), where they used to place Africans, who were waiting to be sent to America to be slaves.

They had no idea of this, so some of them were even eager waiting in the baracoons.Examples- Roles or advertisements were black people:-play basketball-rap about a product-are obsessed with money or chicken-have a lot of video hoes-have names that show that they are black (kwame, darnel, any two capital letters (JT, TJ, AJ, TC, JJ), any female name ending in a "qua",

excessively use old terms we made up like-
woo wee-
bling bling-
yo-holla-
im da man,
you da man-
that's wack yo-
daaaamn!-
or any term that white people have begun to acknowledge, use and accept.-(I hope you get the idea- this happens everyday)

Black guy on commercial or in movie: Woo wee! Boy do I love me some chicken, where da Koolaid at?

I found this definition on Urban Dictionary Also:

The coon is a lazy, easily frightened, chronically idle, inarticulate, buffoon. Often working as a servant he is unhappy with his status but is too simple or lazy to improve his lowly position. He is a gaudly dressed "Dandy" who "Puts on airs". Coons do not know their place and think they are as smart as White people; however, their frequent malapropisms and distorted logic suggested that any attempt to compete intellectually with Whites is pathetic. His use of bastardized English confirms the commonly held beliefs that Blacks are inherently less intelligent than whites. The coon's goal in life is leisure, and his leisure time is spent strutting, styling, fighting, avoiding real work, eating watermelons, and making a fool of himself. If he is married, his wife dominates him. If he is single, he seeks to please the flesh without entanglements.

**Bliss says: I know a few of them**

**Bliss Says:
Unconsciously we let these stereotypes consume who we are as a people, knowing the consequence of such use. We often let it slide and we think that because we are such powerful users of artistic ability that we can ultimately control what we create. I beg to differ:



The keepers of the flame said the future was bright, I am starting to think; maybe not.

Grace and Peace

Bliss

What Ya Doin'

Grace and Peace

Tomorrow, I break. You will not reach me on this blog tomorrow. So if ya need me, u can catch me on Saturday, this is where I will be. It is Thursday, but HAPPY FRIDAY!

BLISS

Lady Sings The Blues

Strange Fruit

Southern trees, bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves, blood at the roots
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the popular trees

Pastoral scene, of the gallant south
Them big bulging eyes and the twisted mouths
Scent of magnolia, sweet and fresh- then the sudden smell of burning flesh

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck, for the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop.
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

Bliss says: Honestly it pisses me off when black folk say that they have no reason to vote. Ignorance is not Bliss, it is just plain ignorance. I'd personally like to think that if my people died for anything, then they died for me. I'd like to think that if they fought for anything then they fought for me. They laid themselves on the alter and offered up themselves as sacrifices - FOR ME! For them you have to live on, strive on, fight on and you may have to give up your comfortableness and do something out of the ordinary and turn it into the extraordinary!

This is Where I went Today

I found her today. Rested in her place for a while and decided to come on home. You should go by, bet she wouldn't mind.

On The Eve of My Reckoning:

On The Eve of my Reckoning:

There is something to be said about Vanity. About heavy it can be and how easy it can weigh you down. Met a girl named "Vanity" once and I thought what in the world was her momma thinking, went and named that child Vanity.

Vanity is the excessive belief in one's own abilities or attractiveness to others. Vanity is considered a form of self-idolatry, in which one rejects God for sake of one's own image, and thereby becomes divorced from the graces of God. Nietzsche wrote that "vanity is the fear of appearing original: it is thus a lack of pride, but not necessarily a lack of originality."

Don't get Vanity confused with confidence. Being confident comes by the work of God, so it can in no way be confused with Vanity. So to label someone vain means, that you have nothing else to do with your time.

I have come to realize that people will say what they please about you and about your circumstance, but when confronted with their own baggage they flee. Momma told me that people wouldn't like my walk and wouldn't be able to understand my talk. She said that they act like they get mad when you hold your head up too high. Like it is something heavy on them, like you challenge them to do and be better.

Of all the people, I thought you understood.

Now, I think I'll add a picture of me to this place. See how they like that.

"Here come Mr., always talking about Shug"

The Revolution Will Be...

Thought I'd share with you what happened on this day in history!


1983 : MLK federal holiday declared

President Ronald Reagan signs a bill in the White House Rose Garden designating a federal holiday honoring Martin Luther King, Jr., to be observed on the third Monday of January.
Martin Luther King, Jr., was born in Atlanta in 1929, the son of a Baptist minister. He received a doctorate degree in theology and in 1955 organized the first major protest of the civil rights movement: the successful Montgomery Bus Boycott. Influenced by Mohandas Gandhi, he advocated nonviolent civil disobedience to racial segregation. The peaceful protests he led throughout the American South were often met with violence, but King and his followers persisted, and the movement gained momentum.
A powerful orator, he appealed to Christian and American ideals and won growing support from the federal government and Northern whites. In 1963, he led his massive March on Washington, in which he delivered his famous "I Have a Dream" address. In 1964, the civil rights movement achieved two of its greatest successes: the ratification of the 24th Amendment, which abolished the poll tax, and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibited racial discrimination in employment and education and outlawed racial segregation in public facilities. In October of that year, King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. He donated the prize money, valued at $54,600, to the civil rights movement.
In the late 1960s, King openly criticized U.S. involvement in Vietnam and turned his efforts to winning economic equality for poorer Americans. By that time, the civil rights movement had begun to fracture, with activists such as Stokely Carmichael rejecting King's vision of nonviolent integration in favor of African American self-reliance and self-defense. In 1968, King intended to revive his movement through an interracial "Poor People's March" on Washington, but on April 4 escaped white convict James Earl Ray assassinated him in Memphis, Tennessee.

The Revolution Will Be...Whatever you need it to be!

Grace and Peace

Bliss

A Test

Grace and Peace

In the past few months, weeks, days, hours and minutes my faith has been tested. Hanging on to that mustard seed is not as easy as it may seem. Having faith and walking in it is a trying job.

Thank Him for bringing me through!

Grace and Peace

What I say

It is not the hard times that last, but the hard people that do!

Thank You, Future

Grace and Peace

Bliss

I am pushing!

Today I learn

Grace and Peace

I looked to my friend today to teach me something new or something old that I may learn again. Spearheading the microphone through my CD player, he told me his stories and his history and I believed him.

"It don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine".

If I could open myself and place on display the light that shines within me, I would. I would let you see just how bright the light is and how I often forget that it laminates and casts forward on its own accord. Sometimes there is beam so bright that even I can not see past it and then God takes it and suppresses it and gives it back to me. That is my way remaining humble and human inside my own light. I see it, first thing in the morning before the drop of water, before the first hint of dove and before the smear of make-up. I see the light!

Grace and Peace

I am Here

Grace and Peace

I went there a little unknowing. I was skeptical and afraid of what might happen. I got there and everything seemed all right and then everything seemed all wrong.

When I stepped on stage, I was at home. They was feeling me and I was feeling them. Energy was robust and I was happy.

Collective Purpose was good to me. There was a High School in the ranks and I must give honor and props and thanks...to those of you who did y'all thang, Be blessed. Those of you who supported the venue...the poet needs you.

Thank you

Grace and Peace
Bliss

Yeah,That's Right!

Grace and Peace

I am really feeling this Dude!

Inspiration, comes from those who don't even try!

They are simply being, simply doing what it is that they do!

Mr. Obama, I am with you!

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Here We Go!

Only I know that in the morning I won't be able to write. I will be worried and my stomach will be turning over and I will be again nervous. I might just snap, because I can get like that sometimes. The show is tomorrow night and I can not imagine what the place looks like or how many people will be there. They will watch me sweat it out and scream out loud.

Corbet Dean says, it is good when you are scared - take chances. I will, I will.

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Following Links

I was following some links today and that got me here and then I ended up here. I took a left turn and ended up here and just when I thought that I was ready to go home, I ended up at this place.

She Still Sings

Grace and Peace

She and I spoke just a few days ago, there she was bellowing out from my CD player. She dropped notes into my heart and swam melodies into my ears. She is the truth. Moving past stones and climbing over mountains with a deep voice strong enough to crack the embers of my soul. This girl is Bold!

Grace and Peace

Sister Nina Simone

I Think That I Learn From It!

Grace and Peace

While walking in a field, Shug says to Miss. Celie that she thinks that it pisses God off to walk by the color purple and not notice it.

Celie says that she wants a purple dress, so that she can feel like royalty. Purple makes her feel like she's somebody, somebody that can open her mouth and be heard.

There is something to be said about God and who he is. Shug says: "I think that more than anything, God loves admiration."

Assata

Grace and Peace

I have been reading today...

thought that you all might want to know about Assata.

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Truth #2

Everything is no doubt broken into pieces by perception. Then there is fact, which blossoms into Truth. When Truth is not hiding in its secret places, it chooses to dangle itself, not only in your face but also in the faces of the masses. When Truth is turned loose, tired of being captive and of being shut up behind lies, it flares like a fire and spreads through the soul.

We try to prevent the fire next time, by refusing to be opened, refusing to love or be loved and denying ourselves. Lies are dangerous and disastrous. Lies tear down homes, paint fear on light poles, make churches into graveyards and mis-guides the already weary.

I went there, first, out of curiosity. I came back a second time seeking a second chance. Once again slowly but surely opening my heart, in order that I may receive love once again. Now, uncertainty rest on my shoulders. Because he dismissed it without the faintest hint of what Truth is, we don't know, they don't seem to care, but I am just a little confused.

What is Truth? No, for reals this time.

Tired of This!

Look at what I found in one of my many e-mail accounts:


Hello Sir /Ma

My Name is TOM MARLEY i am the owner of MARLEY ART BEAUTY CONCEPT in UK.it is my pleasure to offer you this job and am sure it will not affect your present state of work,you can work online with me and get paid weekly.my company in uk need a representative in your country to receive moneyorder/check from my client, cash it from any cashing point, take 10% from it and send the remain balance to through western union or money gram office and receive another payment immediately.

Please get back to me on the following details below
FULL NAME:
CONTACT ADDRESS:
CITY:
ZIPCODE:
STATE:
PHONE NUMBER:
AGE: SEX:
MARITAL STATUS:


Best Regards
MARLEY ART BEAUTY CONCEPT
FLAT 26,REWALD ROAD
MONSAL COURT.
E 05 JJ LONDON UK.
099447031928914.

You know what Mr. Marley here is my letter to you:

Dear Mr. Marley,

I am deeply concerned with your lack of business savvy and I believe that you have the wrong person(s). Just about everyone that I know has received your little invitation to become an asshole. In fact sir, I believe that I even saw this little scam of yours on Dateline or was it 20/20 or was it both. I would like it very much if you would not e-mail me with such offers anymore. Contrary to popular belief everyone that lives in the United States is not as dumb as the person that runs it.

Thank you for immediate attention to this matter

Bliss

Truth

Grace and Peace

Something to write is definitely surging on the ends of my fingers. A weekend with a certain amount of calmness in the air and then there was a pound of chaos mixed in with a pinch of despair.

"Know those who labor amongst you" was the word. I get it, I even overstand the concept, the idea...umm the portrayal of this scripture. In order to understand the big picture, one has to know what Truth is. And whom does Truth belong to?

I can honestly say, that I don't want to be bothered with scandal in my secret place. Where God is blessing and someone else is destroying. Wherein contained in this idea, concept, visualization is there Truth? I think that Truth lies somewhere between the mattress and box spring, swept up under the rug, in the milk carton along with spoiling liquids, in the back of the shelf where moth balls form, in the corners where roaches and spiders roam and behind everything that can be used to hide the utter, utmost Truth.

Someday we will evolve. Peace Odie

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Saturday Morning Pleasures

Grace and Peace

Work on a Saturday Morning should be against the law.

It's not like I sit outside and listen to the birds sing, but hell if I was off I just might.

Enjoy Saturday!

Grace and Peace

Bliss

How I do!

Grace and Peace

So I have found out how to add links to my page. (HURRAY!) At times I can be a little slow, ya know! I had been trying to get you all to the Bob Marley page and although you all don't comment I know that you do read the blog. It surprises me sometimes, when one of you all call me and ask me about one of my posts or when I see that one of you have printed one of them out.

So now I am in the process of learning Latin and it is killing me. However, I know that it will not win. I will win the battle of Latin vs. Bliss. I have to, I have no other choice. In the meanwhile, I have selected a manager and I have two features coming up. One is in San Diego, in which I will be traveling to later this month and the other feature is in November, here at home.

I have to find to stop and catch my breath. Slow up pace, but then there are times when I think that I am just starting out and I can't stop to rest now. You know How I do!

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Trying this one more time

This is a test, only a test...

I was reading about Bob today! Thought that you all might be interested!

This Place

The face has changed on this place!

Might be time to add a new name - to...this...place!

Spinning wheel of black - seems a little too dark for...this...place!

There might be a new name coming soon - to...this...place!

I will be sure to let you know...before I go and go and go and change something...I want you to be able to find me.

Look for me in the whirlwind or the storm because here I come!

Peace

Recovery

This weekend will be about recovery. I will put on my finest dancing shoes, scrape off the week's blues and find myself in the mist of recovery. Latin is taking its toll on my mind and I must rest. I must relax - and I will.

Call me on Friday after 9:50am, because that is when the party will begin!

So much has been going on in my life that I have not even had time to sit and write or sit and be right. I look forward to church on Sunday (I praise him all week), church gives me the time and place for a release. I have a date with Jesus!

Yeah recover that is what I will do - tonight I might even turn my cell phone off, let the folks that dare to bother me listen to my voice on the voicemail.

I have had a day that concerns a man that I wish would just tell me the truth. Or I wish that I only knew what the truth was. It has become hard for me, and trust that I never wanted to be one of those sistas that wore her jilted self, all on her shirt collar. I do think though that in more ways than one, I have become that sista.

No man is ever telling the truth! Sounds bad, I know. I really don't believe that but it gets hard out there sometimes, especially when I have already tried my best to trust a man and just when I knew he would not do anything to hurt me - he hurt me. Years and time has mended that wound - so this weekend I will recover!

To my friend: I am not sorry for the complications that we are having at this moment in time. But times passes and is the killer of forever existence. We may pass this and we may not. In time friend, in time. You will open yourself like a ripe melon getting ready to burst and you will give to me, all of your insecurities, doubts, questions, secrets and dreams. For now, don't worry about me - this weekend I will recover!

God Don't Like Ugly and Ain't Too Fond Of Pretty!

Look at you. You have a brand new face. You look beautiful...Welcome to your new face!

this morning

The main idea is for me to start taking better care of myself. Honestly, I am tired. I have been conversing with God this morning and he promises me everything will be all right!

A little Q & A

I have a secret.

A secret that I must tell.

In time, (if time permits) I will tell.

It was really kind of funny, and sweet, and new...

In love? No, not yet.

In strong like? No, not yet.

Do you even like...him? Yes, I do. With a few maybes dangling from my mind and a few questions here and then there.

The thing is...we fight and then we make up. And then we fight again and then we make up again.

Okay and then we talk, him laying on his backside, face and eyes scoping the ceiling. While I lay my head gently be-tween his upper belly and chest, we talk about our last night, and our yesterdays and what we dream of for tomorrow.

Surely, it was nice.

I fit perfectly in the spaces that he left open for me. Like the pocket in-between his arm and armpit. Comfortably in the shadow formed from his back. I slept there and he didn't even know it.

I didn't tell him, but I liked looking at him just as much as he liked looking at himself. Although, I think that more than anything I was looking for something inside of him. Something that I could wrap around my finger and hold on to. All of my strings went left untied. I was steadily searching for something in him...I asked a lot of questions. Most went unanswered.

He doesn't know, but I observed him at every turn. The way he walked, the way he talked, what made him laugh, what made him mad, what made his eyes light up, what he appreciated, how when he was really listening he held his lips tight, how when he was alert his ears lifted slightly, his breath was always sweet on me, his touch was soft (even when he thought he was being rough) and a kiss from him never took a disrespectful turn.

We are astrological twins. Leos in our own right. Though, still man and woman, we have differences. I, the hopeless romantic. He, sleeps on planet clue-less. He, the attentive one. I, slightly withdrawn and unaware. However, together we might fuse, maybe.

Afraid to have him in my life?

No, honestly I don't mind.

Is cruising better than speeding?

Yes, I think that this one I will take slow. Feel him out, don't turn him down so quickly as I often do.

Do you think that you all should just be friends?

No, friends first. Then I will ride the wave to wherever it lets me off at.

For now, questions are dangling from my mind and answers are hard to find.

The Vibe is Live

Ahhhhhhhhh... and it was refreshing!

I did, I swear that I did - miss home. The smiling face of my mother who brews coffee early and has so much to talk about so soon. The inquiries from my sisters, they want to know how was it and how was he. The worried look on my brother's faces diminish as I walk calmly and speak sweetly to them.

My reply: It was good, all good. Everything was good.

I felt a certain comfortableness, if you will. Love was all about how much your fingertips could take if only you could reach out and touch it. I thank them! The Vibe was Live and even my words can not conjure up enough...enough...enough, to make you understand or even bear what happens in the secret of my poetry. A few days in Arizona gave me more than enough to call home about. I wanted to sit under trees and drink tea and sliced up grass leaves. I wanted to crawl in that space that is me and talk to you about it while sitting cross-legged under our favorite picnic table. (Ahhhhh...when was the last time I had a picnic.)

It was all satisfying and all gratifying and did it replenish me? Yes, I would have to say that it did. The Vibe was Live! And so was she, you know her Miss. Thang! Beautiful she is! I promise you, she was graceful. As beautiful as poetry to me. She didn't wear her age in her skin or in her hair or in her walk or in her talk - Her WISDOM resonates from within. Miss. Thang can I hang with you, latch on to you and share this world of poetry with you? Dance poetry on table tops with you, braid my hair and tell me what you know, learn from you...I want to open up the world and invite you to be my sister - in poetry.

Many, many, many thanks to you for showing me some love.

Inside these words are Love!

I think that more than anything; today - love has brought me back here, to this place. A familiar place where I can sit down, take my shoes off and write down the guarded feelings of my soul. There is almost an air of joy that surrounds me - need to help spread the joy that I feel in my heart to those who may not have "HIM" in their lives.

I know that in my soul of soul and heart of heart, that "HE" is "HE". I thank him for that, but there are times when "HE" makes his presence felt more times than others. If I may complete my story, without handing out too many words, I will be able to tell you how elated I was on Sunday when "HE" showed up and placed his arms around me.

"HE" begin to tell me what he thought of me. In the image of my brother he told me that I was "SUPERCALAFRAGALISTIC" and then taking the form of my sister "HE" asked that I "RISE". Then again, "HE" moved through each one of my siblings and even my mother and "HE" showered me in the words that "HE" knew my heart needed to hear: "RUN ON", "RAISON-D'ETRE", "FIRE", "BLESSED-BLISSED", "REMARKABLE", "NIGGANOT", "PERSEVERANCE", "PUSH" AND "FAVOR".

I didn't know, until "HE" had "THEM" to tell me.

Yo Ta - One day I will push that mountain hard enough to move it.

Momma if you ever find your way to this page, know that I think that even the bees envy me!

Bliss

Some tricks I do love!

Grace and Peace

This weekend I found myself loving more than I ever have before. This weekend was one of pure beauty, graceful words and more love than I could hold. You remember when you would ask a friend for some of their sunflower seeds, how you would cup both hands together and still some of the seeds spilled out of your cupped hands. I felt this way on Sunday - but let me go back and tell you about Saturday.

• Saturday - I was trying my best to be on time and yet and still I was late. I felt bad because I invited some friends and they were there before me. I wasn't there to greet them, instead they greeted me. It wasn't all bad though, because guess who showed up at the exact time as I did (did you guess?), the hosts of the show! So while waiting for the show to start, I had the chance to sit and chat with my friends, meet new people and learn more about some old people. Guess what - the show was supposed to start at 8:00pm, I don't think that the show started until like 10:00pm. I could have been furious, if I had been asked to feature. But I was just in the audience trying to listen to the poetry (something that I don't get to do very often anymore). The story doesn't end there. My brother in poetry enjoyed a few beers, I enjoyed a gyro (with fries fried way too damn hard- never again) and my friends enjoyed a Hookah. While I was trying to enjoy my Gyro and my Woo Woo (alcoholic drink) I was asked if I would read. I said no, but guess who ended up reading anyway- you got it, me. The night wasn't all bad - my friend who had never seen me perform before - saw me be myself for the very first time.
• Sunday - I was ready to go to church - though I woke up with a headache. There was singing, dancing, foot tapping, hands clapping and an amen here and there. Time with God was good for me and good to me. I don't know if my pastor knows how much he has helped me grow - I will tell him one day. There was a blessing that the church received on this Sunday - we will be moving to the new building and the Moulin Rouge(though it has been good to us) can miss us! It is hot in there, but God blesses even in the heat! (Sending a shout out to my family at the Zion Cathedral)!
• Still Sunday - I had to hurry and get away from the church on this Sunday, because I had some things to do. I did not stay long after I asked that Pastor bless some oil for me. Sunday was the 5th annual Back 2 School Weeeeeny Roast! Last year about the same time, Pastor Cox had given me the task of blessing all of the children in the family before they went to school. This year my sister thought that we would do something different, she brought bracelets that had printed on them: Faith, Hope and Dream. I would have the task of praying over each bracelet and then presenting them to the students. (Heavy)

I have to go, but I will continue this later in the day.

Grace and Peace

Bliss

Oh Bother!

Lately I have found myself gawking at furniture. I guess I have that bug. I have been even dreaming about a place, a place that I can call my own. A place that only I would (should) have access to. It is fun to dream, it makes everything (even what I think is impossible) seem possible (there is God again). I was lurking on the Target website and I found these beautiful shelves...You know, shelves that had Bliss written all over them. As if God hand made them for me and told the rest of the world to " Get back, these here shelves are for my baby"! I like to think that anyway. ***I would give y'all a link, but you might try to steal my shelves - selfish biddies****

I like to think that I am still real enough to dream and live and love. It is what I love to do, so why not? Sometimes, "I be" like - Oh bother there I go again, dreaming and loving and wanting to be loved - Oh bother.

Tomorrow,I will again engage myself in another infamous poetry venue, why you ask? Because I promised that I would be there. I won't be speaking (fingers crossed) - Oh Bother!

Like I told a friend earlier this week. Do not seek inspiration inside of a poetry venue, instead think of the venue as your platform. I place to display your work - from which the world and all of it's ugly and beauty inspired you to write.

Grace and Peace

Happy Friday!

Okay, I am going to try this

Somehow, this is not coming up like I want it to, but enjoy anyway! http://www.bobmarley.com

I forgot to mention...

I had an utter feeling of God on yesterday. Like he was there in my presence and we had a conversation. I felt that he was pleased with me and I felt a love so tender and so deep, I can not explain. I thank him for blessing Bliss. I hope that he visits me more often!

My CD cover, which is an IZO exclusive baby, is so relevant, so fresh, and so sophisticated.

Thank God for blessing me with big brother IZO!

Grace and Peace
Bliss

Whose Space?

I have to admit that lately I have been thinking about Myspace!

What is a Bliss to do?

For You

Grace and Peace

I spoke to a friend yesterday (a friend of mine that often frequents this blog) and he confided in me about some issues that he is having with poetry. I know that he will read this and I wanted to let him know something:

My dear friend,

How are you today? I hope that all is well with you. I am fine, you know how I do. Anyway, the conversation that we had on yesterday has been on my mind. First, I wanted to thank you for coming to me with your problem and thank you for allowing me to offer up a few words of advice. Your art is indeed you art and if you don't respect it then no one else will. You have to take pride in your self, before anyone else will.

I am going to implore you to challenge yourself in this trying time. Your heart may be misguided and your words might seem astray. It is okay for you to stay there for a quick minute, but the idea is for you to come out of this slump stronger. If we didn't have down time, we wouldn't have a chance to arise. If you didn't have any issues then you wouldn't be a poet. You are more complex than you know. You are more that just an open mic, your heart is an open book. Learn from this time - read, write, live and give to you. As we so often give ourselves to others. Seek inspiration from other avenues of life. You were writing a longtime before you set your foot in a poetry venue.

So, How are you today? I hope that all is well with you. I am fine, you know how I do!

Bliss

Yeah, What Blaque Said

I came across this...yes I am an advocate! I better stand for something! If you are an advocate join us!

This is what Blaque said:


What’s good fam,
This is just a little note to the family members who are pursuing poetry and spoken word performing for career. The folks who want to get paid for their hard work and dedication to a beautiful and entertaining art form. Do not perform for free at a venue that has a cover charge! These venues that are charging a cover charge are making a living off your life. Most of us write from our life experiences and about things that are very personal to us. Though we don't mind, in fact we enjoy sharing our experiences through verbal forms of _expression, we do not deserve to be prostituted nor should we prostitute ourselves to help line the pockets of some other entity. Check this scenario: a poet is asked to feature at an event, the cover is ten dollars. The poet spends ten dollars on gas, forty dollars on something to wear for the event, thirty-five on food and drinks while at the venue, because the host of the venue did not provide the poet with as much as a glass of water, for a grand sum total of, wait a minute the poet also had to pay a babysitter for the night, fifty dollars, for a grand sum total of one hundred and thirty-five hard earned dollars from a day job that barely pays the bills. O.K REMEMBER the venue charged ten dollars to come see the poet(s).One hundred people paid to get in for a grand total of one thousand dollars. Now lets do a mathematical comparison between the poet and the venue. The poet spent $135.00 to not just partake of the entertainment, but to be the entertainment. The venue or should I say the host(s) of the venue COLLECTED at least $1000.00.unfair THEY SHOULD AT LEAST PAY YOUR EXPENSES. THIS IS NOT ABOUT MONEY IT’S ABOUT JUSTICE!!!! SOME OF THAT MONEY SHOULD GO TO THE POET WHO GETS NOTHING More THAN PERSONAL FULFILLMENT FROM THE PURE JOY OF PREFORMING, AND THAT’S GREAT, BUT ITS NOT FAIR OR JUST. I would love to have a round table meeting, sort of speak with all the poets and spoken word artist who are tired of getting screwed because they just love that mic. THIS IS ONLY TO DISCUSS WHAT WE AS PROFESSIONAL ARTIST CAN DO TO CHANGE THE WAY WE ARE BEING MISTREATED AND DISRESPECTED. IF YOU MUST BLESS A MIC SOMEWHERE, DO IT AT AVENUE THAT DOES NOT HAVE A COVER CHARGE. THERE ARE PLENTY GOOD VENUES IN THIS VALLEY THAT DO NOT HAVE A COVER CHARGE AND THEY ALL OFFER REFRESHMENTS TO THE AUDIENCE AND THE POET, FOR FREE. LETS SUPORRT THOSE VENUES, THEY'RE THE ONES THAT NEED US AS MUCH AS WE NEED THEM. Any and every professional poet/spoken word artist that would like to have this discussion, please contact me via email at lablaquemc@hotmail.com and if we have enough folks interested I will arrange a time and place for this very important discussion to take place. PEACE WIT X
LABLAQUE

How is Poetry

How is Poetry?
Poetry is Fine.
Yeah, that's cool! So, really. How is poetry?

There are times when the antenna doesn't clear up the circumstance. It merely gives you a better picture of how things are going to be. It gives you the chance to understand things that you never thought you could ever understand or would ever have to.

Through my antennas I am finding that I have to plaster on some pretty thick skin. I have to guard my heart from jealousy that may lurking around me. The idea is to not get the wrong idea. Some poets in the family wish you the best - they are the ones that pray for growth and guidance. Then there are the others - they are the ones that assume that you think you are better than everyone else. They are the the ones that dislike you as soon as you receive that extra hand clap.

How is Poetry?
Poetry is Fine.
Yeah, that's cool! So, really. How is Poetry?

Poetry is definite. Poetry is unchanging. Poetry is change. Poetry is believing and then dis-believing. Poetry is ugly as hell. Poetry is stained beauty. Poetry smells rotten and then it smells sweet. It is my everything. It means absolutely nothing. Personally I miss it.

Poetry is Fine.

Bless Me

I have come to realize that I can not continue to let people do whatever they please in my life. People come into my home and rearrange my furniture, move bars of soap to places outside of the shower, they place my Cds on the back seat of my car (when I honestly like for them to be upfront), they come into my heart and place themselves in places that I never wanted them to be. Today and from now on, I LIVE for me.

There is a time to lay down some ground rules. A time to get a fresh start, a time to let them know that you really don't need them coming into your life fucking up what you are trying to mend, especially after they were the exact ones that fucked you up in the first place.

I do believe that there comes a time when a person learns our own self worth. When we demand respect from every follicle of hair that lays itself on our bodies to the beds in which our nails grow. If you have no respect for me in this world or the after world then I have no room for you in my life. I am in search for genuiness, a love that surpasses all others. No matter where it comes from or from whose fingertips it may drip from. I demand it because God, promised it. I can not even attempt to tell someone how important I am or that I am somebody and one day you will regret how you treated me. No, I can only and will only purge them from my system and let their fate be their fate, whatever it may be.

Lay down some ground rules, demand what you know is yours. LIVE for you and for your day. LOVE like nobody's business and worship at the feet of The Almighty.

Today, I walked away from something that I thought would last me for my entire life. Something that I thought I would be holding on to and dragging with me every step of the way. Something that I once had my love wrapped around so tight that neither it nor I could breathe. Something that I dared not to measure, for fear that my cup would run over. Something that I could place on the top of a peda-stool and admire. Something that once meant my world. Something that was, in my eyes, always at it's best. Something that I always wanted the best of the best for.

I stayed there lingering on, allowing myself to be used in the most humiliating way because I could not fathom the thought of it needing me and me not being there for it.

I pray to God that he will bless me

Grace and Peace

Talented

I have had the pleasure of meeting some truly talented people in the last past week. People who are not only lyrically creative, but people who are musically inclined. It was refreshing to know that they too respect the poet for what he/she can do on the mic, to the spirit... in the world. I was amazed at being at a concert that celebrated the true essence of Hip Hop. It has come a long way and has true enough taken a few turns in its journey. I think that everyday we are either getting closer or moving further away from "truth of Hip Hop". There is an ongoing battle between the mainstream artist and the "real MCs" of the genre. Hip Hop itself is a full grown adult, meaning it still has room to grow and expand even though it has been around these parts for years.

They get on the mic, with the band energizing the room with its sounds, and they spit! Some are good, some are real good and then there are those that of course need some work. The admiration though, does not come from the fact that some of them need to give up their dream of being a rapper, but the admiration derives from the fact that any of them have the energy, confidence and respect for self and art to get up there and spit! Especially when you have a beat behind you that is ultimately fucking up the whole room. I talking about a beat so mean that all heads are bobbing, necks are snapping and hands are in the air. The Chapter Crew is here to make it do what it do! Then, maybe you can rock the mic like it needs to be rocked or you end up making me and the rest of the bodies that fill the room drown you out and take physical and mental part in the sounds of the keyboard, bass, and drum.

I do thank The Chapter for showing me that Hip Hop is not only just Bling and women, but that there is more to the art. http://www.thechaptercrew.com/music.htm

Grace and Peace

On this Weekend

There has been a certain amount of heaviness hanging over the days. I am not just talking about the clouds that cummulate late in the afternoon, but instead that sadness that consumes the atmosphere. A sadness so steep and so deep it seems to be cutting off my circulation.

Friends of mine recently lost their mother. (R.I.P.) The day was unlike any other that I had seen in a while. It felt dreary, unsettling and motherless. Sitting there in the church, I could feel the sweat beading up on the walls. I could smell the confusion in the air and I knew that somehow not one of the children that sat close to the altar, was at peace with their motherless day. Change will come: I believe that anyway.

The show on Saturday went smooth like a jazzy beat. I was in and out. It was live, I held their attention and not to mention "he" was there. My muse, the person that held my hand and walked me into my first venue and told me to do it. He had not seen me peform, he did not know what type of monster he had helped to create. I thank him. It was love in the place and allowed myself to be swallowed by it. I think that perhaps I even swam in it for awhile. Backstroking on what was beautiful to and for me. I thank them. Everyone was not there, but this time I didn't have pretend that he was standing against the wall, because this time he was he, he was there for me. I Thank you all.

Thank God (Alimighty)
Amen

Conversing about the small things

I have suddenly felt the urge to leave here. To travel the world - if not my very own dwelling. I feel the need to seek solace in another place. I have a meek happiness in the place where I am at now. My family is my love, church has suddenly become a cozy cushion I call home, my friends are those arms that I don't mind have wrapped around me. I know that God is everywhere (omnipresent), he dwells everywhere. My fear is not that he will leave me, but instead that I will leave him.

So far it has become a struggle for me to hold on to him. Again, not that he is leaving. I doubt him at times, when in my heart I know that there is no room for doubt. There is no place for doubt or fear. Faith sometimes takes more work than the word allows you to know. Faith is a word that is easy to pronounce - it flows like water, but a word that is hard to turn into a verb. I struggle sometimes to turn it into a word of action and not just an element of description.

I know that if I embodied the true "faith" that I needed, then I wouldn't feel so defeated at times. I do not believe this way all the time, but there are times. I do think that in my small monument of pleasures I can seek and find all that I need already in my space. I think that somehow I have everything that I need to survive in this world - this world catered to the celebration of someone else's downfalls.

I have also come to find out that my space is too small. I mean every space that I own is entirely too small. My room, my car, my desk, my mind, and even my personal space. I find myself backing up when people are standing too close to me (my idea of too close). I find alone time with myself relaxing and peaceful. When I am in my space with myself only I am able to search my own heart with a fine toothed comb and I never come out of that space or that place empty handed. I don't mind the social hour with friends or family - I find amusement and love in them.

I can assume that my heart is lacking in other places. Though I find myself pushing away the idea of male companionship. I find them most repulsive. Maybe because none of them are what they can be. None of them are what they should be and I truly think that I am disappointed in them at this time in my life. Where are the self aware black men. Aware of their surroundings, their history, their futures, their mistakes, their accomplishments, their spiritual being. Where are they? Too many of them are seeking refuge in sex. Sex that is ultimately deemed cowardly. To hide in the essence of someone- else's truth and use it and dare not to love it is mere cowardice. REPULSIVE!

Then again it could just be me, with a high standard. Not just for men, but I guess for everything. So high I could barley see it myself.

It Felt Good

I had the pleasure of speaking with a old friend today. Though short, it was good enough to make me smile. I guess I did miss him.

Thank you

Honesty is Key

It was like she was trying to keep a secret from me. You know... Changing her plurals to singles and chopping at her vocabulary. She doesn't know that I know. She couldn't possibly think that I am that dumb or that naive. The news this time, didn't carry as much weight as it would have with me. I was okay this time. I took the news in stride and continued on my path.

Sometimes I dare to look back. Sometimes I may even let myself go back to that place. I think that mostly I am checking up on it, making sure that all is well with it. After I do that then I can keep it moving. Nowadays, my stops are minor and few. I think that I am okay for now with where I am at. It gives me more time to concentrate on me and the things that I deem important to my survival. There isn't much that I need and I can work with what I have thus far.

I think that what is even more exciting for me is that discovery is lurking in the corners of my very being. I have begun to study what is important to me in this world of material wealth. I have taken pride in who I am and what I am. What if, just what if I am somebody? I think that I can bring that message across without being overly-confident. People dwelling in my realm for some reason think that as soon as someone starts to believe that are somebody in this world, then that makes them conceited.

I often think that if these shallow people had a grip on their own shit then they wouldn't have so much to say about whats going on with mine. Really I am basically getting tired of trying to prove to people why I love me so much. Why I feel like this isn't it for me. I personally feel that people should support when needed to and allow themselves to be supported when needed to. Jealousy is the root to evil, it warrants hate and encourages ill treatment.

I dislike the thought that I can't call my friend and share an accomplishment with them. It actually saddens me to even think about it. I couldn't believe the kind of treatment that I received when it did happen. I tend to drift off onto edgy conversation...I was saying that in the corners of my being I see things in a different perspective.

My heart aches and wonders for things that didn't even use to warrant my heart's attention. Now, more than ever, I find myself thinking about things that are not indifferent in our world. In fact these things are so prevalent that most of the time we don't even pay them any attention. Little ones are sleeping through gun shots outside their windows at night. Young men are being killed, more women and children are being abused and homelessness is the first institution on the top of poverty's list. Tell me, how can there be levels or classes for the poor. Is there a institution of rich or too rich, no. But on poverty's end, the levels are stacking up.

Poverty - Hood/Ghettos, trailer parks, homelessness, welfare/section 8 housing, gassed neighborhoods.

How does one fair in a poverty stricken neighborhood? Who was the mastermind behind this set up. Now, that this system that was set in place to destroy is doing exactly what they wanted it to and more it has become a problem. The problem is with the "more". They aren't just killing themselves off...they are starting to kill them too. Oh-honesty hurts.

Plans planned in evil have a tendency to backfire!

Words

Gravity has a way of pulling words out of my mouth. Words that maybe could have been said in a different way. I always mean to tell the truth, but I guess sometimes it can come across as rude or too blunt.

Well...to all of you, I do not apologize, but I merely hope that you can understand.

Peace

Bliss

Today

Sometimes I have to question myself on how I got to where I am. Steadily searching for a miracle to happen, steadily searching for God to arrive. I am here. I am ready. But I think that mostly I am scared of what might happen. I have to make moves because I know that no one will make them for me.

There is a voice inside my head that is telling me not to be a coward and to step out on faith and that God will take care of me. How can I be sure I ask the voice. The voice then asks me, how can you question God.

The plan for today, is to trust in God and believe that he will do what he said he would do. Today I take care of my business and myself and my heart.

Yeah, that is what I will do today!

Makes Me Wanna Holler!

It is times like this when i feel so small. Like a mere particle occupying a small space- only taking up space. The false reality sets in, because really, it shouldn't be real. A small child, that very well could have been me facing the worst of the worst. Encroached upon and could do absolutely nothing about what was happening to them.

i hated to hear the words that she had been impeded upon. Her innocence was nothing to him, he took what he knew was not his. he stole her, ripped her and then like it was nothing sent her back on her way. After she had come from a place so foreign he sent her back home to a place so familiar. She had to be confused. How could he have been satisfied? How could he have been happy with the act of hatred that he had just committed? Evil is not hard to find. It lurks deep in the crevices or on top of the blades of grass that grows pretty in the summertime. Pity? i have none for him. i deem him a sorry excuse, mentally amuck and sore fuck up of a man. He is dirt in the bellows of the worse man's soul.

He did not take into consideration her yesterday, today or tomorrow. Her blood, his comfort? Asshole. Her tears, his manhood? Jackass. Her screams, his savage pride? Bitchass.

Words can not express my anger. Words can not even fashion the feelings that are dwelling within me deep enough to cut holes in the earth's core and ask if God was even there. Tonight I will pray for her and then I will pray that the anger in my heart subsides. Tonight, I will pray that Jesus steps in and takes over the situation.

Every lesson learned is a lesson earned.

Amen

Song of Solomon

SHALIMONE

By the time I was introduced to who Solomon was, I was overcome by the beautiful language in which the story offered. Morrison writes with such eloquence and beauty. Song of Solomon was the third book that I have read by Morrison. Usually I get so tied up in the confusion that she offers in her writings, this time I was waiting to be confused, waiting to be mis-led, waiting for this character to pop up out of nowhere and mean everything. He/she was not there; the book was full of passion, sacrifice, love, hatred, self confusion, knowledge of self and everything possible. I loved the book for its discovery of family and of life, Morrison took me on a journey through generations of past life. It seems almost as if one of us today could discover that hidden secret and unwrap a line of history as rich as Milkmans.

I want to know Morrison's secret, sure she knows something about this story that no one else knows. The characters used to be her friends, they spoke to her long enough for her to tell their story. They chose to come alive through the mind of Morrison. I wonder what else she knows about them. About Pilate, Macon, Milkman, Guitar, First Corithians, Magdalene, Sweet, Song, Ruth, Hagar and all of the characters that chose Morrison. Out of all of the writers in the world, they chose her. I guess they knew that she would tell it just like it was. She wouldn't add too much or take away any. She would feed it to us straight, no quarrels or quams.

I put the book down, feeling free. Free to discover, uncover, grow...fly. Morrison tells the world about black people, about their culture, their lifestyle, the way they think. She does all of this without making them seem inhuman...We are indeed much like everyone else. The story flows easy. The story means something, the story is the last breathe before one decides to give up.

This life thing surpasses beauty!

Heavy?

" How come it can't fly no better than a chicken?"
"Too much tail. All that jewelry weighs it down. Like vanity. Can't nobody fly with all that shit. Wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down."

Thank you Ms. Morrison - you know, for the words. As disturbing as they are - they are at the same time, in the same place and as the same moment powerful.

I picked "Song of Solomon" for my first Summer read. I wish that the second book I pick is as powerful, if not even more. A book that has surely evoked some type of whimsical thinking in my heart and mind. When I complete all the words that are listed in the 15 chapter book, I will blog about it again. For now, I will try to rid myself of all of the heavy shit that weighs me down.

Grace and Peace

Father's Day

It has been over ten years since he left this place. Left this place for something better, something new, something everlasting. I miss him truly and I believe that I will forever. Throughout the years of course time has eased the pain and the tension, but there are still some days when I can't help but welcome him into my heart. There are times when I refuse him, refuse to let him into my space or refuse to believe that he wants me to know that he is there.

Yesterday, however, he would not be refused. He barged his way into my heart and got comfortable in his regular place and slept there for awhile, threw a fit, hugged the inside places and then, without me knowing, took his leave and promised that he would be back.

I never know when or how often he chooses to visit me, as I have no say so in the matter. But the loss of him makes me think about what I gained after him and after I lost that it makes me think about what I gained after that. This life I lead is all a revolving circle, pulsating to the beat of my very own heart. A day with mixed feelings, it was. A heavy day, most times I try to contain the heavy - place it in a box - just so I know where it is and so it doesn't escape my grasp. Enslave the heavy so that it has no time to breathe, not a moment to live - but as my sister says sometimes shit just gets heavy. So yesterday I let the heavy live in my day and breathe all of its miseries and beauties out on me.

A day of clarity, it was. I had originally thought that something had gone terribly wrong with my emotions - I couldn't/wouldn't cry. Not even when I was overwhelmed by the feeling of catharsis. I remember being at church and made myself suppress the tears that dared to come forth. I thought that I had finally allowed my heart to grow cold and had become stiff as a board. When the tears dropped and the head began to swim and emotions began to flow like free water after a drought. I was reassured that I was alive and well, dwelling in the land of the living.

I think I will love for the rest of my life, give myself, present my words as gifts, share my dreams and foster the mis-guided. No need in me swimming in the dark, because if I knew that then I would have no clue as to where the deep end begins.

I must tell you all not to worry about me. This girl, will be fine. She will be! Simply BE!

See what happens to me on Father's Day. Now I have to try to fix a situation that I may have disassembled and don't have the instructions to put back together.

Thank You

Man, freedom/releasing feels good. I felt liberated. I felt like a teenager sneaking out the house to go and see a boyfriend that my father disapproved of. I had been on a 3 month vacation, I mean I could have I just didn't because it didn't feel right. I won't say that I needed to exahle, because that sounds too corny. I will say that needed to breathe - to let out some anxieties.

He called, I barley dressed and was out the door before any one could say two-holes in the floor!

I Remember My Love

(Ride With Me) - and I did and I would forever if I could. He was waiting for me outside of my house. How nice it felt for someone to come by and pick me up. How often had I been leery of men knowing where I lived or had been asked to meet them somewhere. He already knew where I would be - He had the address imprinted on his mind, knew how the street curved, knew what the yard looked like, knew what it smelled like outside, knew how the wind blew - he knew how to find me. (Ride With Me) - and I did and I would forever of I could.

My Close Love

He had me at "Hi". He held me close to him under his arm - where I felt my safest. I was close enough to hear his heartbeat, close enough to understand his mis-understandings, close enough to know that he has had a sad day, close enough to know his goals, close enough to know his most intimate feelings. He wanted to talk and I in return wanted to be talked to. He had me at "Hi".

I Miss My Love

"Home" felt good. Together we fused into one - one sculpture carved from the essence of true love. It felt like divinity and I knew that after it was gone I would miss it. This time, however, I felt liberation songs flow through my bones. At that time I was not scared of him, I did not fear what was to come and I did not regret any choice that I had made. It was there for me, put there for the taking. I needed him and he needed I - I think we always will. When he isn't there I look for him, a small hint of him in the bushes or hidden in the crevices. Once I get over my fear of him, I will be fine. Because "Home" feels good.

As for the night and all that it contained - Thank you, My Love, Thank you!

A Healing in The House

Grace and Peace

My prayer was that God reveal himself to her. That she continue to trust and believe that trouble don't last always and that somewhere in the mist of her storm, a cooling would arise and blessings would pour.

On this Sunday she accompanied me to church (Zion Cathedral). I knew that she would need to be administered to by someone who didn't believe that he was too holy to be human. On Sunday she had her breakthrough. The healing may begin.

Thank you Pastor Youngblood
Thank you God!

Grace and Peace

Da Future of Poetry

The crowd slowly filled the joint. Cafe De Tout was the perfect place with the perfect atmosphere. I watched the poets bless the mic and I even had a go at it myself. I was trying to decide which poet would be welcomed to the $10 dollars that I had in my purse. I had made up in my mind that I would just run to the bank if I had the urge to buy more than one CD.

I was sitting patiently waiting for the next poet to grab the mic and claim it as their own. I was sitting close to the stage, I had to arch my back and look up in order to see the poet. The host, Husbandman, introduced the last Headliner for the night and in a humble manner the Future of poetry emerged.

Beautiful locs twisted back into a ponytail, creamy rich chocolate skin and down to earth as he could ever be. He was cool...He begin to speak and my mind was made up. I wanted to understand the Future of Poetry...What it meant to live in his skin. That was my CD for the night.

I could barely wait to get home so that I could give all of my attention to him. Instead he demanded it and with no hesitation I gave it to him. A connected brother is he, connected to earth, God and society. I have to give respect where respect is due, a strong believer in the sustainer above, I respect that too. Who knew that this young cat born in 79 could bore knowledge and wisdom at his trying age.

Future I compliment you, with my head bowed.

Your heavenly father does believe that Jr. you are all right.

Grace and Peace

Bliss

What Happens In The Presence of Ignorance

Grace and Peace

I think...That the world may have stopped revolving on its axis for maybe one second. Maybe after I blinked or maybe after I took too long to think. My muscles tightened, my bottom lip bled and for the thousandth time in my life I was happy that I wasn't there.

Then the news came about him. I hadn't seen him in years... Since we had summer school together and he would fall asleep and chastise the teacher for waking him. He was funny and cool and humble - he was he.

My heart broke when the news came. The news came in the form of a phone call asking me if I had heard about it all. If I had heard about how a group of men had brought hell with them in the form of iron that held sweltering hot pellets that could pierce the body and leave it lifeless. I answered yes, I had heard about the senseless act and how the peace rally ended in death. I had heard about how there were jump houses on every street corner and even now I can hear how loudly the people were laughing. I almost died when the news came, about him.

In the presence of ignorance lay the seeds to our future. Every child no matter what age, is five years older, degrees bolder and has to deal with psychological damage that comes along with ignorance. In the presence of ignorance mothers and fathers, now has to buy one more playstation so that they can keep their children inside. In the presence of ignorance I see me, raising my clenched fist and striking knowledge into the domes of these young men. I see ignorance and replace it with self awareness, black pride and the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

RIP - SG (May 29, 2006)

Grace and Peace