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

Like Riding A Bike

I suppose that I should've been there. Like many times before, I wished that I hadn't been so willing or so eager to go there. Sometimes it feels like going home, a place that I have been gone away from for entirely too long. I miss the presence of it, the touch of it and dearly the sense of comfort that it allows me to feel. I unwillingly admit that I love it, but I am at the same time and space afraid of it. I don't think that I want to love it after it crushed me.

I ask questions openly and without hesitation...I refuse to assume anything. Assuming got my ass kicked. Assuming put me in a place that I wish not to return to - but then the same scenario remains. If I don't try it again - then I won't ever feel the feeling again. The innocence is gone and I leave nothing to spare - my guards are up and these walls are brick.

It scares me when I don't know a person's motives. When a person has glue in-between the top and bottom lip. I get anxious and tired trying to read a person's eyes all the time or trying to guess what it is that actions are trying to display. It is okay to check the situation right where it is, grab the situation in the collar and scream into it's face. I can take it - stronger than ever now - place all the grimy details out on floor. Stomp on them, make love on them, scream over them - but leave none of them untouched.

It is too comfortable to be left alone...I know that when I was there, it felt easy. It felt like I had never left it, like it was mine, it fit over me perfectly, it was as stimulating as spoken word poetry and it filled me with major pleasures although minor in time and space.

It was like riding a bike - I remembered how to push off, how to balance myself, peddling was easy, turning was easy and riding was the thrill of my lifetime.

I guess I miss being there - although I am unsure, I don't know because no one is speaking.

Ultimately I guess I have to get use to not riding that bike. It was my friend(I THINK I MISS THAT THE MOST)

Ahhhh The Joy!

I decided to the visit the Ice House last night. To see if I had missed anything, if any poet was talking about something new and explosive to the mind. I wanted to see if any poet would set the stage on fire and light up the walls. I wanted to see how hot the mic would get, if the room would steam up and if the paint that lined the walls would melt like ice cubes in the mid-day. I wanted to see if any poet would get excited and clap their hands together, stump their feet on the wooden stage, if any poet would have to step back from the mic in order to catch their breath. I wanted to see if any poet would with their voice stop the world from spinning on its axis and cause the clouds to sleep on the bottom of earth. I had to know if anyone would understand the damn poet just once, if anyone would care to walk with them there, if anyone would stand in honor of the pain, love, dignity, sorrow that the poet was spitting. I wanted to know if some spittle perhaps landed on someones insides and simply caused them to break!

The joy of us poets almost getting there....the joy!

Show In August

Grace and Peace

I feel impelled to inform you all of the upcoming show:

Poetry of the Soul Poetry Festival
Sammy Davis Plaza (Lorenzi Park)
Saturday, August 19, 2006 at 7:00pm

I hope to see you all there. I unfortunately have to host, but its whateva! Come out and see some of Vegas' own, spit fire on the mic.

Now, I am truly tired of breaking this down fo' y'all. Here is how the poetry schedule goes for da summer so far:

2nd and 4th Saturday of month - Untamed Tongues at Cafe De Tout
3rd Friday - Poet's corner at West Las Vegas Arts Center
2nd and 4th Wednesday of month - Poetry at the Ice House Lounge

If there is a change in the schedule I will let you all know.

Grace and Peace

Looked Back and Saw You

Grace and Peace

My eyes are full with tears, not those that I have cried for the last past year, but tears that do nothing more but thank. Oprah's Legend's Ball crept into crevices of my heart that I had not dared to return to since...

I know now, more than I have ever known before. I am!

On This Day

Grace and Peace to my sisters Denise McNair, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson and Addie Mae Collins!

On this day in 2002 Bobby Frank Cherry was convicted of murder in the 1963 church bombing that killed the four girls listed above.

They are, along with Emmitt Till, sacrificial lambs of the Civil Rights Movement. They are forever beautiful, forever living and forever treasured.

Bobby Frank Cherry, a demolitions expert and his other three comrades - Robert Chambliss, Thomas Blanton and Herman Cash decided to uproot a thriving black church. How easily our anger consumes us and eventually turns our bodies and minds into fire! An uncontrollable rage that can eventually plague the land that surrounds us.

To my sisters be victims of Bombingham no more! To my beautiful sisters who are forever young, be forever free!

To my sisters now - carry freedom on your heads, above your eyebrows, in between your you know where's and you know how's. Carry your light with dignity and pride. Go on with your loud, big mouth! In the name of the four little girls, whose lives engulfed the world - On this day be victims no more!