Birth and Solitary.......

Isn't it ironic that with the festive nature of this particular
holiday season, that in spite of all the hoopla of Christmas most
folks just want it to be over.......I do....(Sorry Jesus, it's your day
but I'm struggling with my own lonliness)

You were born
they say it was in a cave like structure
in something called a manger

I was born in a hospital with a bunch
of white babies. They say I made more noise
than any of them so maybe I was 'special'

You lived your life, did a bunch of great
acts, never told a lie or took a life. Now
that's special.

I'm still trying to figure out my life. Every
now and then, I do something that doesn't
require cuffs and shackles. I've never cheated
on my taxes, but well I do cheat on myself
most times.

I'm glad you were born. I know there were
lonely times being the Savior of the world and all.
Happy Birthday.

I'm quietly coming to terms with this new birth
that's unfolding in my life. It's lonely too. I wonder
if this will make me a better writer. A better
woman. Well if it makes me more like you then
wow.....

Icy

Favor.....

How blessed it is to have God's favor operating in your life.
I have it.
I'm really glad about it.
Yesterday was spectacular in so many ways....I'd write about it, but my hands are still a little shaky.
Maybe after the chill has left and the pen doesn't slip from between my fingers...

Today I am just grateful and extremely blessed.

Moving Again....Them damn Dreams

My legs hurt
My exercise regimen sucks like lollipops.
I can now see my.......It's really pretty
I wanna be fat again.....NOT!
I dream about him every night
I wish it would stop, really.
Well actually I don't.....just wanna control something other than weight loss.
I'm moving into my first New York chill spot
It's gorgeous
Overlooks the Hudson River
All my clothes are too big
I need new shoes...what woman doesn't
I'm feeling rather homely today....why is that?
I miss my babies
I miss my homeless man
I miss..........(deep sigh)
I dream of him too, usually on really cold nights
God keep him safe.
I have some major support on the play
I wanna quit somedays, but the children won't let me.
Church folk look at me funny....I'm getting used to it now.
My new Pastor is awesome.
Began working with a group of young people....they know more than me
Now teaching Sunday school....(wow...Me?) (just like he used too)
I'm controversial and quiet.
I love my self...on most days
Not used to this new me, but I'm getting there.
The view in my new home is fabulous.....
I wonder if I invite them....will they come????

He used to like my chicken........
I still do.

this has been an Icy Update

Babblings of supreme greatness

In the grand scheme of things
life is still what it is.....(where have I heard that before...sometimes I just be saying stuff)
Every day you meet people
some are good
others are well.....lets say, they challenge your character or make you simply want to spit
I've been blessed in more ways than I can count.
I don't count, I find it's simplier to let things just be
sorta of like sitting on the dock watching seagulls eat fish
I've managed to piss some higher ups off with my writing.
They said it was a 'little too honest' for their lying publication.
Like Maya said.....Still I rise.
Pablo has done a disappearing act, but Terry sho nuf performed on Oprah the other day
I'm now too sexy for all my shoes, but I'll keep wearing em till the good Lord
allows me to afford some new ones.
The play is coming together nicely.....I have to re-write a death scene, because once again
I'm too honest for my own damn good.
Obviously even for the NY elite.
Oh well, like Jill said.....Love is like farting in an elevator, you may not know who's doing it, but you sure can smell it. Writing I'm sure is much the same. I must get my name changed soon before the headhunters track me down and swallow my soul.
Note for the month. It's easy to 'fall' in love, but hard as fuck to climb out of it.
Still I sit, while caressing excellence.

Sighs Moans, and Worn out boots

......I thought he was lying at first
wanting me to feel sorry for him, maybe
giving me a sob story to butter me up to
ask me for money,
cause you know men lie, don't they?
they lie well, like lies are a part of who they are
I smile as he tells me don't be sad
I'm sad inside but I try and listen with a 'solid heart'

my heart is not that solid, its sorta like
carmel cake or freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies

today Pablo doesn't want to talk
He greets me with a nod and walks along with me.
I stop and get my bagel and tea,
he stands outside the coffee shop and waits patiently
then we walk along Main street quietly. (It's 6:38 am)
I look at his feet from time to time
His worn out boots won't get him through the New York winter
I'm waiting for him to ask me for a dollar. I've been
waiting for 3 weeks, but he only wants me to lend him my ear
20 minutes each morning - I listen - he talks
but today, he sighs, loudly.....
sounds like a freight train ripping through his mind
I want to ask what's wrong, but I know better
I've heard the story I know what's wrong.....

(last week in a nutshell)
finally he speaks
I had a dream about momma stabbing Cham
what made me mad was she got blood on my
daddy's white tee shirt that I was wearing.
He told me it was mine, but it always smelled like him
I missed Daddy.
(I wanted to ask questions, but I bite my lip and kept quiet)
ain't no peace when you watch blood leave the earth
specially at 8
couldn't do nothing but cry inside
tears wouldn't come
mama told me it was his fault
(I assumed he meant his father's)
I nod my head for him to continue but it's as though I'm not even there anymore
heavy breathing...
I'm afraid sometimes......afraid that Cham will come take my soul like Mama took hers
She talks to me when I don't have my coffee (5th of Rum that he carry's everywhere)
I was in the room, I should have saved her
(how many of us have tried to drink or snort away guilt)
I just watched, watched, watched
Mama couldn't be killed she was already dead
by the way, you look pretty today, Cham had eyes almost just like yours
you could see through to her soul
(thank you Pablo...)
so what are you gonna do today my friend? I ask
sit right here, and wait for you to come back

(I had a million questions......but I knew to ask would close the porthole. For whatever reason, I need to know this man's story. Yes, he's a homeless person who walks the streets of New York fighting off demons that are not his. He's 72 years old, but he's still 8 years old. He's a part of my day, a part of my life, and I don't know why God has placed this man in my path, but I do know he's not crazy, nor is he inhuman. He is a human being and I will treat him as such.)

Pablo's Thoughts

punctuation has been removed to protect the writer.....

Ma'am I'm an old man I recognize this but life has been unfair Are you placing blame I say Hell no, but the truth is shit happened to me that no man or woman should ever have to see. Is that why you have your 5th of coffee at your side every time I see you

Awwww that...no Missy, see that's just my way of telling the devil to go fuck himself, see a few years back we made this pack and I sorta reneiged on it, now I have to swallow this shit just to make sure he don't start talking to me to much (I attempt to not let him hear me gulp....really loudly)

Tell me about your family I say.....He laughs then grabs my shoulder. I can smell his anger. It was kinda like fried bologna mixed with citric magnsia and stale peanut butter.

Get your hands off me please....no disrespect but you dont wanna know that story Actually yes I do. Why cause Why cause you seem like you got something to say and I wanna hear it
My mama was ashamed and empty....why is that? just shut up and listen There were 5 of us but my sister Cham got the worst and the best of mama. Daddy left one night after they had a big fight and somehow managed to take all the life out of mama with him It's fuckup to have a mama who's there but gone So what happened with your sister Cham, where she at now???

She's dead....Mama heard a voice one night and killed her in front of all of us. I realized then I could miss my bus or ask Pablo to hold off on the rest of the story.

I missed the bus that day and was late for work.

Here's why!

The introduction!

Downtown was just beginning to stir as I walked along Market street at 6:15 am. I could feel my feet pressing against the concrete as I slowly made my way to the coffee shop. I spotted him laying at the bus stop as I walked past. He nodded his head in my direction and I smiled as I made my way down the street. He then yelled out...."hey you..." I refused to show any fear so I yelled back in an even louder voice, "HEY YOU" I think I may have shocked him out of his drunken stupor because he sat straight up and attempted to clearly focus on my face. Of course by then it was too late and I was inside the coffee shop. By the way, I don't drink coffee.
This has relevance, but not until later in the story.

For several weeks, this man was sitting or lying in the same spot both before and after I got off work. Some days he would simply stare at me as I walked past, other days, he would tell me he liked my hair or my dress. Some days he chose to tell me something profound about our country, like.....The world is fucked up becuase of the United States, you know that right? I would generally nod my agreement and keep walking. Then one day it happend. He wasn't on the bus stop. He walked up behind me and literally scared the shit out of me. I'd never been this close to a street person before, but I didn't want to be intimitdaed, so I smiled and told him to never walk up on me like that again unless he wanted to get cut. His laughter bellowed through the streets and then that's when I saw them. His beautiful grey eyes that cut through any fear I could possibly have. At his side he carried a half empty bottle of barcadi, his coffee, however he respected me enough to keep it at his side while he walked with me.

"Hello doll, my name is Pablo...Pablo Witherspoon, and I figured it was time for me to make an appropriate introduction. "Hi there, I'm Rhonda, how are you today? Well I'm good for an old man gone young.

Then it begins. He tells me the story. One of the most incredible stories I've ever heard in my life.

More Soon!

Getting Over!

Getting over.......
Getting over what?
Getting over people
what kind of people?
People who hold you back
Back from what?
From life, destiny, peace of mind
Why?
Cause you'll destroy yourself with worry if you don't....
Today I got over
There is no residue left
I've been cooked all the way
No half done chicken in this pot.......

________________________________________________________________
Upcoming in Icy's world

I met a homeless man named Pablo a couple of weeks ago. Imagine that, a homeless man in New York. Almost unheard of huh? He has been enlightening me to many things. He is old, and dirty and walks with several sorts of limps. Society has abandoned him, labeled him as not only homeless, but hopeless, yet He has a twinkle in his eye that draws those of us who truly desire to understand what life is, and how we get where we are.....'sigh' He has entrusted me to share his story. I will try my best to due him justice.

In the coming days, I will write about what he has shared. He makes me smile, cry and get angry all at the same time. Almost like........ well that's another story, but Pablo will be here soon for he stays on my mind. I think I may be well on my way to experiencing what real writing is. Back soon folks.

My eyes are not blue!!!

My eyes are not blue, neither is my hair long and blonde. (well now it's sorta blondish, but that's a whole nother post. Icy's hair issues. I'll tell the whole story real soon.)

I speak with a southern slur that will either make you yearn for more, or get on your last nerver. Some days I bite my bottom lip when I hear of the condition of this world. Religion gives me a headache, but spirituality makes my smile shine like the sun.....

I was used to hearing crows at night and roosters in the morning. Now I hear sirens, and arguments over who's turn it is to make the coffee. I despise the smell of coffee and the attitudes of people who are addicted to it. I don't think I have an addiction, at least not one that warrants mentioning here. Maybe on Freaky Friday I can share my 'former addiction'. former/current (same thing right...???)

Anyway, I like my brown eyes. They are sincere, and sincerity is like gold in a world where fake imagery gets all the attention.

My job I currently have is a wee bit boring. Ok, let's be honest. It's madd boring. I miss what I used to do back home. I miss being in the classroom.
I am working out now. Every other day. My legs hurt, but I'm getting stronger. I ask my trainer the other day if my breasts would shrink if I lost too much weight. He thought that was hilarious. I wanted to slap him into Manhattan. I have breast issues too. Or should I say the lack thereof. Anyway, this is not about my breasts. It's about what happens when you look into someone's blue eyes and what they see when they look at your brown ones.

Today, I interviewed for another position at a company that I'd really like to work for. The Director told me it was something about my eyes that spoke to her. I was looking into her bright blue ones thinking, if I had blue eyes I want them to be this color, and low and behold she was probably thinking the same thing. Or maybe she was wondering how much I payed for my DKNY suit I was wearing that fitted my curvavious body just right. Maybe she was wondering if I stole it, since many times they think, we steal. I was answering questions with such precision that I had to breathe, stretch and shake to make the interview a little more relaxed. I prayed, ask God to place the right words in my mouth and low and behold He did just that. Hopefully I'll get a phone call telling me I got this new position soon. If not, it simply wasn't for me. In any case I still got the sexiest brown eyes in all of New York and a smile to match. And believe it or not, I'm about as humble as they come.

I just happen to like myself.
Do you like your eyes? Do your like yourself?

They Don't Know Me

They can't help but smile when I pass
They've seen me before
New Chic in town
Always going somewhere
Kinda Quiet
Until she smiles
My smile is sexy
I smile at myself
on rainy days
My eyes hold secrets that twinkle
like Stars
My new attitude breeds love, STRENGTH!.....and.....
get outta my way if you ain't doing
but TALKING bullshit
I left bullshit in Indiana
I'm not in a competition
I'm a woman
going somewhere
doing something
God driven
motivated by life
Can't you smell me?
They ask me questions...
just to hear me speak
southern and smooth
like Petticoats and hot butter
Drip Drip Drip
What's her name?
I think it's Dollbaby or Brittney or something
She moves like the wind....or is it thunder
She got big thighs...umm
and attitude.
She don't seem to care what's going on nowhere but
Her space
Get in it
Fit in it
Can You....
Keep up
She smells nice too
Like Sunshine and Marmalade
mixed with a little bit of sex
Sweet sex
The kind you wanna swallow
you know
Dudes who like plums dig my smell
dug my smell
It's still potent
Ask the construction worker
or the lawyer
or the bum on the corner
they love my smell
the essence of my womanly nature
know how to make theirs rise
but they still
DON'T KNOW ME!

Icy

This Birtthday Girl is too sexy for her shoes.

Today was a beautiful day. He bought me shoes. That's not of course what made the day so beautiful, but everything around the purchase of the shoes was absolutely spectacular. Got to see the U.S open on a big screen in the park. Listened to a cool jazz band that had a bass player who was off the hizzzzzinoooook. Spent at least 2 hours in barnes and noble doing what I do best. Critiquing books. He bought me a bunch of those two. He's a good guy. I would say it's because it's my birthday weekend that this gorgeous black man is being so good to me, but damn. He's just good to me every day of the week. Well except for Wednesdays' whenhe has class, and Monday's when he has his bunions boiled off, or Fridays when....Ok, I'm getting off track.

Hey people. I'm 38 yrs old today. (September 11) I feel blessed, young and stronger than I have in a very long time. God has blessed me. My skin is glowing, and my smile is still charming men everywhere. Old women still love to give me advice on how to be a good wife, and I still accept it thinking...In God's time, I'll be saying those words every wife uses like a mantra. "I know you don't think I'm washing those drawers."

I'm thanking God for my life, my family, my new shoes, and the blessed gift of choice making. Life is beautiful, and to be real real blunt. SO AM I! I'm feeling me and my sexy ass shoes tonight like I havent in a long time. Well, it's about that time. He's out of the shower and I suppose, the birthday party is about to begin.

Love you People!

I love Poery. Anyone wanna give me a gift, send me a poem or just make me laugh. Pray for people who don't have the liberties you do. Trust me, they can use our prayers.

Icy

Loving Mr. Potato Head

Hey People. Aint nothing at all like having an interchangeable face. It's different than colored contacts, hair weave, and having 28 pairs of stilleto boots in the closet. It's sorta like knowing you feeling a certain kinda way, and designing a face to go with the feeling.

Ok, I'm in this big place and so I'm writing from a different sorta place I suppose. I'll have to drop the latest about the new job over the next couple of days, and the my new next door neighbors who have chickens in their backyard. Ok, I left Indiana to get away from this country shit, and suddenly here I am down on the farn all over again.

Sex is better when you actually like the person you're having sex with. (I've been so blessed!!!!)

New York is cool. I have come to realize that people are just people wherever they come from. Babies from Louisiana and Mississippi are in my prayers.

Back Soon
Icy

Icy Update

Hey all. I'm still alive and breathing. Matter of fact, I'm doing pretty good for a country girl gone city.

I miss you all, and will pop back in soon for an update. I think I accidently posted the other post to Chrome's blog, but check him out anyway.

Keep Hope Alive People

Icy

Friday Ramblings

Today is a blessed day! Not because I'm finally a New Yorker, but because somehow I finally crossed the first hurdle in changing my life. I made a decision and followed through. Follow through's always been a big issue for me, so although I'm seeing the challenes that are set before me, I realize that I took a step.

A big one.

Ok, so now the country girl has come to a new town, has to make about 10 other major steps to get this new life in motion. Will she be able to do it? So many have doubted her, but I think she's well on her way, don't you?

Will she obtain every goal she set for herself?
Will she hold her head high and place herself in a position to allow greatness in?
Will she get a great job, cool apartment, and make some new friends?
Will she let the country girl shyness go, and step up with a little boldness and poetry girl swagger?
Will she let the opinions of others, especially loved ones, scare and intimidate her?

Will she stop speaking of herself in third person...? (probably not)

Monday morning, real life begins....she'll be hitting the pavement, taking the next step in her 10 step plan to become a better 'she'.
She ask herself this morning, why of all places did she choose the state of New York?

she answered herself with this response..........Why not New York?

Realizing there are folks back in her home town waiting on her to fall, and admit the big city was just too much for her, come running back to the comfort of the country and all that is familiar.
She hopes they're not holding their breath!

-----------On another note.....

Tomorrow, we will celebrate my youngest daughters birthday
(She'll be 11) My boyfriend and I are going to make this a very special birthday for her. One she'll remember forever!
Last night coming into the city, her eyes got so big looking at all the buildings and stores. I'm somewhat saddened by what she was most excited about though. She looks at me with joy in her eyes, and says "Mama, look, there's a McDonalds on every corner. Wow Ma, New York is cool'

I must expose my child to new things.....like immediately

I guess when you go from living in a town where there's only one McDonalds for three counties, and coming to a place where they are everywhere, that's something to be excited about. Even though I don't eat McDonalds. (and she won't be eating much of it either)

Speaking of which, its' time to go whip up some viddles for the youngun' She'll be waking up soon.

Oops I forgot, this is New York.....I must not say viddles out loud or I may get shipped back to Kentucky on a tugboat.
Have a great weekend poeple!

*Icy

The deer that just wouldn't move

Driving along this country road...thinking,

thinking loudly

but not loudly enough

(how loud do your thoughts have to be to intercept your actions?)

Just loud enough not to see the deer. The little one that

was sent out into the road to distract me.

Break my concentration

Interrupt my anger at change (my discord at doing something different)

Create some frown lines, wrinkles, or age spots (God forbid)

I slam on the brakes, veer to the right to avoid taking a life

Cause as pissed off as I may be,

I don't wanna have to answer to God as to why I took a life when all I have to do was move outta the way. So I just moved.....altered my position, changed course to avoid hindering/harming someone (something)

Damn...that's it!!!! (I just had an epiphany)

I changed.

In the process of change, parts of the old me had to die to allow the new stuff in.

The old attitude,

the apathy

the indifference to new ideas

the overtrhinking of simple philosophy's

the time wasting. ( my favorite pastime)

the judgemental mindset that said, 'I'm so much better than I used to be', knowing damn well I'm not. (I'm discovering I'm human, this is coming as somewhat of a shock to my ego)

---

I'm empty now God, please fill me up with Premium and screw the cap on tight this time!!

----

I'm sweating, trying not to get out and cuss out Mr. deer. (cause I don't cus on Sunday's, but it's Tuesday so WTF)

He remains in the road, unwilling to move. Blinded by my headlights that have long since passed. He stands there, shaking

waiting

waiting for life to move him

waiting for his mother to guide him back to the safety of the woods

waiting for a sign

He waits

and waits

and waits......

while he waits, he puts his very existence in danger

his hooves get damaged from the asphalt

his eyes get weak from the constant watching

his bones begin to deteriorate from standing in the same position for such a long period of time.

his spirit

his spirit is in a far away place, frolicking with his kind, enjoying life

only mind won't send the impulses to his body to catch up with his spirit

so he stands

and waits

I look in my rearview mirror watching him, as I continue on my journey.

Thinking again.

Loudly this time..

Real Loud.

I used to be just like that little dear.

Life and all that comes with it

Guess what Bloggerfriends? 18 years ago today, I experienced childbirth. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise if you haven't done it. IT HURTS! Today I look at her, and thank God the rewards have been far better than the pain.

Happy Birthday Ms. Kortny

Mama loves you more than life

My kid rocks, yall

I'm in transition, I'm walking into this next phase of my life with a cool pair of raybans (do they wear those anymore) and some fake aligator boots.

Today it'll be light and airy, once I've absorbed enough of New York to say something truly insightful, I'll be back with all the details of my new life. until then, kiss a friend, hug an enemy, and don't let a day end without telling someone you love them.

You never know when it could be your last.
Peace, Icy

Thoughts for sale! - Is anything free anymore?

"But this is slavery, not to speak one’s thought."
-- Euripides
(480-406 B.C.)


What is slavery to you? I firmly agree with the above quote. This is a form of slavery when you are not able to express yourself freely. Most of the time, we are our own slaver masters.

Would you be willing to pay for your thoughts to be heard like the good ole southern boys were willing to pay to have their 'property' returned to them.

How valuable are your thoughts and ideas?

Whether you wanna beleive it or not, slavery still exist today. Unless you live in the land of Oz, all over the world people live in bondage, in fear of their lives, basic rights being stripped from them. Women and Children are physically and mentally tortured. Men are fighting wars that are not theirs, losing their lives in the process. Poverty in itself is a form of slavery. I've been there on more than one occasion.

I'm not sure why I woke up at 4:00 a.m thinking about freedom of speech, slavery, and torture in today's society, but I think its safe to say, I had a pretty disturbing dream. I think I need a sun sandwich.

"You see these dictators on their pedestals, surrounded by the bayonets of their soldiers and the truncheons of their police. Yet in their hearts there is unspoken – unspeakable! – fear. They are afraid of words and thoughts! Words spoken abroad, thoughts stirring at home, all the more powerful because they are forbidden. These terrify them. A little mouse – a little tiny mouse! – of thought appears in the room, and even the mightiest potentates are thrown into panic."--

Sir Winston Churchill(1874-1965) Prime Minister of England

Now, say something'! I dare ya!

The Moon and Tommy Hillfiger

The word says in the beginning God created......yeah, He's a bad man, and brought to life all this stuff we got down here now. Like the trees, the sun, the moon, and all the crap we generally take for granted. What about mosquitos, arent' mosquitos cool? And bumblebees and tulips. Sometimes I wonder how it is that people can be so caught up in the makings of things that are so (bovinely) do a word search---insignificant yet we lose sight of the beauty of that comes in the simple things.

I'm rambling, but have you looked at the moon lately? Be honest.

I'm also fascinated by people who get excited about clothing. Like fashion designers. They are an unusual, tempermental bunch of folks. Especially the little dudes in the tight pants with the wild hair cuts and even wilder accents. Their ability to pay such close attention to the detail of a piece of fabric, and the craftsmanship that goes into creating an article of clothing is pretty cool.

But to simple, country folks like me, IT'S JUST CLOTHES!!! Thanks but I'd rather have a sun sandwich

Now you take the moon, the intricate way in which God choose to allow us sight in darkness, tell me that aint some amazing shit. Some would view that as just me being emotional/intellectual/deep (physchotic). Hell I don't know, I just know that God's little creations are awesome.

Like rain. Have you ever looked at the rain? The smell of it,(how you can smell it before it comes. (sorta like someone I used to know in third grade) The way it falls from the clouds, making the flowers grow and black beauticians extremely wealthy. (All scientists can go to hell, rain is amazing) I have already accepted my position as a strange cookie, so whatever!!! I'm also fascinated at how lightening can take the life of innocent bystanders standing next to electrical poles..(or of two teenagers riding horses in a field as was in our local news this week) Ok, that's some other shyt, but damn, rain is awesome.

I'm confessing as much as I love rain, I'm terrified of storms. I usually hide when they come, but my shelter is under construction. I guess I'll have to face this storm like a woman.

Maybe Tommy will make me a special raincoat and I'll share my sun sandwich with him as payment!

The sign still says walk! (Continued)

Today I realized how much the words of others have affected my writing. There are many other writers who help me keep the pace So today, it is my pleasure to honor
GG. Her voice is powerful and she lets the world see Guyana from a beautiful set of eyes. I hope to one day call her my friend. She makes walking fun. She takes me on the most incredible journeys.

I believe in the power of the human spirit. I beleive that the roads we travel help define us, and the people we met along the way help us to understand ourselves.
This man gives being human a whole new light. Humanity the way it should be.

Chromeis a great writer. He taught me lots of cool stuff. He's a Man, a kid, and a genius all rolled up in a smooth pair of J's. Better not step on em though, he will track you down and make your life miserable. His voice is strong, like heaven's thunder clouds. You should check him out. He's beyond awesome. His films will set the film industry on fire.

Last but not least, there's Ale. She's like a breath of fresh morning air with the faint scent of coffee and cotton candy. There's others I want to mention, but it's getting late and I've been walking for a few hours. Can't allow myself too much healthy stimulating mental exercise. I might morph into mediocrity, God forbid.

(I wonder if Poody tang has a blog. I wonder how many would understand...sa da tai)

Enjoy these folks as I do each day!

The Sign really does say Walk!

The sign says walk! 


It's pretty awesome when life gives us these little signs letting us know when it's time to move forward. Imagine New York city, or even your city without traffic signals. Without signs that tell Pedestrians when they can go or when they should STOP! The hospitals, funeral homes and car dealerships would be packed. (that was my horribly morbid thought for the day)

What happens when life's little signs are out of order, and you just have to relay on instinct to tell you when to move. Are you able to do so, or do you wait on confirmation after confirmation to finally do the things you need to do to move forward in your life? The sign is working today, it says walk. What are you gonna do? Remember others are behind you counting on your ability to move forward. Keeping them waiting could resort in a mass entaglement of bodies in the middle of the street, and a few New York cabbies who didn't see the sign that said Pedestrains crossing. (Another interesting visual, sure wish I could draw)

Life from a Different View

 


From an upright position, the world is in a horrible condition.
I stood on my head just to see if it would be any different.
I now have a headache and nothing has changed.

Someone Please Give this Chic a Zan-X

Before going to bed last night, or should I say this morning. I realized that I had left some papers on my nightstand. I was just about to fall asleep when I bolted out of (living room floor) to retrieve the papers and read them over one more time. What was the great sense of emergency in my having to read over these important documents at 2:am? Absolutely nothing. The documents were the following. My grocery list. My things to do list. I had reviewed them at least 7 times throughout the course of the day, and needless to say, I had pretty much memorized both lists. I am not obsessive compulsive, at least not on Sundays. I don't have a bed. I think this fact alone is making me crazy. I am also conscious that I have only three pieces of bread left in the loaf and three is not such a cool number. I got up and threw one of the pieces of bread out into my front yard at 5:30 this morning. Had to feed those birdies. Since I am in transition I am currently sleeping on the floor. This is lots of fun as long as the rats decide to stay at the neighbors house and not visit me, but I find myself getting up at least 8 or 9 times during the night. I love infomercials and have the sweetest dreams when I watch them. Speaking of dreams.....never mind, I'll talk about those tomorrow.

I can't sleep if my washing machine is not running. I can't sleep without the television or the radio. I can't sleep if my door is not locked. Doesn't have to be shut, just as long as the lock is turned. I can't sleep without my pillows being stuffed neatly between my legs, and the room a cool 65 degrees. I can't sleep without my Jill Scott Poetry book right beside me and my favorite bear, Blane Porterfield on the other side. I can't sleep without hearing my man's voice. I can't sleep unless I pray. I can't sleep unless I have a plan for what I'm going to do the following day. I can't sleep if there are dishes in my sink. I can't sleep if clothes are not folded and put away. I can't sleep unless the toilet seat is down and the shower curtian closed. I can't sleep without having a piece of ice in my mouth before I lie down. I can't sleep without checking to make sure all my writing is filed away where it should be. Basically, one might say I am functionally crazy, but that's the great thing about interpretations, everyone has a different one.

My oldest daughter couldn't find her lighter the other day, so she decided to take the toaster out into our hallway and use it to light her cigarette. (Thank God she has moved into her own place now) This was crafty, but she left the toaster out in the hall overnight, someone decided to steal it. It was a $10 toaster and although I had it for 5 years, it didn't have any real sentimental value, but last night I couldn't seem to stop thinking about who had my toaster. Where did they place it in their kitchen? Did they sit it on the counter? Maybe on top of the fridge, on the kitchen table. Did they have roaches? Would the roaches crawl into my toaster? Did they try and sell it for some crack or cyrstal meth? Should I be laying here at 4:00 a.m thinking about this? Probably not, but I'm allowing you a little deeper into my somewhat twisted mind so you can pray and thank God you don't have as much time on your hands as I do right now. I wonder what they thought when they seen my toaster sitting there. Did they think it was a blessing from God, since maybe they didn't own one? What if a child got a hold of it and decided to make toast for all their friends the following day? Good thing she didn't leave something out there I really cared about, or I may never sleep again. Basically I need either some medication or a bed!

And the truth is......

How far would you go to be honest with a friend, or even an acquaintance? Another Blogger pal of mine began to speak about fake people and he got my wheels to turning this morning. Would you allow a friend to go out looking utterly stupid just to protect their feelings. Or would you risk the friendship by being honest if it meant keeping them from being shamed in public. Here's the scenario

A close friends calls you extremely excited about a dress she has purchased for a premeire you all are going to over the weekend. You go to her home, and she answers the door in a 2-sizes too small, cheap red dress that looks like she should be standing on the nearest corner. She has on matching red pumps with her ashy feet fat gracefully hanging out the sides. Her smile is a bright as the dickens, and she has decided since its a special night to add the fake gold tooth to go with her $5 dollar gold broach that somehow manges to hold her 44-double-D breasts inside this horrific ensemble. She invites you in and begins to twirl around the room, knowing you think the dress is fab. You want to gag on sight. She then doesn't wait for your response since your mouth is hanging open she's sure you love the outfit. Holding up two sets of earrings, she wants you to pick the best pair to complete her ensemble. So in your head your thinking, 'aint no way, I'm going out anywhere with her looking like some type of Rainbow kid wannabe tramp (new york sistas will know about the Rainbow kid theology) but she's excited, and you don't want to hurt her feelings. Do you? Your response would be to sit her down, and say,...

girl, the truth is?????

(side note, belly rings are for folks with nice flats abs...anything else is sinful)

Kickstand Theory

As a child I remember my first bike (without traning wheels) had a kickstand that would often cause me scratch up my ankles when I would attempt to lower it. The metal would rub against my skin and by Summer's end my right ankle looked like it had been in a war zone.

...So I took the kickstand off one day. Got tired of that extra support simply because it caused me so much pain, so I just removed it. My bike didn't seem to mind being lain on the ground very much and the following summer, my ankles were in much better condition.

Today I kinda wish I had a kickstand, one I could lean myself on when I got real tired like I am now. But there's always the threat of injury when you let too many vices support you. I think I'll just stand on my own and ask God to have my back, and if I do fall, Dear Lord, please let it be on the grass.

Oh yeah, I've discovered also, when you try and be a 'kickstand' for too many riders, you take the chance on rusting out real quick.

The nest is but a wee bit lighter...

Baby bird #1 has left the nest. Sprouted some wings and took her first solo flight, with the help of mama bird and siblings. It was a both a beautiful and emotional Saturday, as I watched her directing the movers as to how she wanted her things to be placed on the truck (Even now, she is such a diva.), it occured to me that I have raised an increbibly responsible, beautiful, very bright young lady. There have definitely been moments over the past few years where I have worried, even beleiving at one period from about 13 to 16 that my child's brain was absorbed by aliens and replaced with that of a Martian. However I look at my gorgeous young lady today and thank God she has turned into a remarkable young lady who has the whole world at her feet. I am so grateful for the following:

She was born.
She was tough even from the beginning.
She knows God for herself.
She's strong.
She loves her family.
She now loves herself
She has morals and integrity.
She listens.
She's intelligent.
She's beginning to see the big picture.
She wants more than what her surroundings have shown her
She didn't get pregnant. (Thank You Jesus)
She makes the right choices.
She wants to make her parents proud.
She knows she is loved.
She's already a talented writer.
She has not limited herself.
She loves her brother and sister dearly.
She's not on drugs, overweight, anorexic, stealing, fighting, wandering, being a hood rat, looking for a 'baby's daddy, going to jail or hurting anyone for her own personal gain.
She thinks heavy.
She's a giver
She had some hard times that have molded her in positive way.
She uses her head.
She accepts challenges and proves herself
She grew up
Got too big for the nest
She left knowing (there'll always be a place for her if needed)
She left with a smile.
She left with my bedroom suit
She left with my favorite painting
She left with my love.

She left me in tears...Happy tears, sad tears, lonely tears....Proud Mama bird tears.

Toes that Smile

I remember it as if it were just yesterday. We were walking on our way to Caroline's to see the latest comedy act and enjoy one another's company. We were walking the streets of New York, I had on my favorite jeans, and a sexy pair of pumps. I looked pretty hot for a mother of three if I say so myself.(and I do) After walking for a period, my feet began to hurt. He noticed. Ladies, I was still representing, even with my aching pinky toes. So we found a place to sit on the street. He slowly removed my shoes, one at a time, and began to lovingly message my feet. Thousands of pedestrians are walking to and fro, and this man gazes into my eyes making me feel like the most beautiful woman to grace God's earth. His only concern was for my comfort and well being. I struggled to hold back the tears, and this morning as he and I were talking, I just remembered. I remembered this act of love specifically because not every man will rub a woman's feet on a city street. He has no shame in letting me know I'm important in his world. Cool thing is, he's still like that. He's romantic, sexy, giving, hard working, and he shares himself with me in the most beautiful ways. Now, every time I wiggle my cute little toes, I'll remember the smile he put on them.

The Chain Letter

Does anyone remember Chain Letters?
I remember during my childhood, my parents were extremely supersticious. I never quite understood why they seemed to feed into some of the things they did, but, I was a part of a household of women who firmly beleived that certain things, you had to do, to have good karma. No walking under ladders, splitting poles, crossing a black cat's path, all that stuff was a part of my world, but the one I remember most is Chain Letters Although I was sent to church faithfully every Sunday and taught to beleive that God was good and I needed to trust in Him, no one else in my home attended. I always thought this strange, but back then, you just didn't question the actions of your elders. Chain letters were a big part of my life as a child and may have given my me love for writing beleive it or not. Back in the 70's chain letters were mailed to various homes. The letter contained information that basically stated, if you don't write and mail out 50 or 100 copies of this letter you will have bad luck and somebody in your family will die. However if you do mail out the appropriate number of copies, you will have good luck and be blessed with various financial blessings over the next 3 months. I remember being about 8yrs years old, when I sat down with my mother and aunt as they feverishly began hand writing copies of this letter to mail out to other families in our city. I thought it was a crock, but I dare not speak up or I would get a swift pop in the mouth. I simply picked up my pen and started copying the contents of the letter. I would sit in our breakfast nook for hours writing these letters, all the while fuming because there were other things a child my age should be doing. Like playing with candy wrappers, or scratching my mosquito bites. Anything but writing chain letters. Only thing good that seemed to come from it was I was allowed to sit and listen to some grown folks gossip, and that was always fun.

Here is a typical format of a chain letter:

Dear Recipient, You are recieving this letter as both a warning and and a blessing. Do not under any circumstances break this chain. Send 100 copies of this letter to family and friends so that we may continue to be blessed throughout our country and world. Sham Flam from, Decatur Ga recieved a letter back in June of 1973. He followed the direction and sent it to his friends and family. In August of that same year, he was on a fishing boat in Florida, and a storm arose. His boat capsized and sharks surrounded him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the coast gaurd appeared and saved Sham's life. He would have surely been eaten alive by the sharks had it not been for the heroics of the coast guard. When Sham returned home, there was a check in his mailboxt for $43,275.00 He was astonished by his great fortune, and credits it all to not breaking this chain. Please be good to yourself and keep this chain going. In 1975, Molly McButter received a chain letter and left it on her coffee table for several weeks. While cleaning one day, she decided to disregard the contents after reading and tossed the letter in a pile of old mail. God forbid. Two months later Molly suffered a fatal stroke. She was 27 years old. Her mother found the chain letter and shared it with family and friends at Molly's funeral. This is imperative. Do not break the chain. All you have to do is write out by hand 100 copies of this letter and mail it to family and friends. If you don't have tht many people in your family, simply go to your local phone directory and share this chain with people from your communities. Thank you in advance for saving your own lives, and may blessing follow you where you go. Remember, your life and good fortune rests in the chain. Don't break it!


....There you have it, a standard chain letter. We have them on line now too, and I receiveed one only yesterday and this childhood memory surfaced. It still amazes me what we allow others to inflict upon us. I used to think the post office started these chains to keep people purchasing large amount of postage stamps, but my mother refused to beleive that when I suggested it was a farce. A fellow poet even started his own chain on line, telling readers that it was imperative they go to his site and purchase his book or bad luck would follow. He also instructed them to forward the eamil to at least 8 other people so that God's blessings would reach all who read his book. (using God to promote your own personal wealth...imagine that)

I smiled to myself as I quickly deleted his email. I smiled as I thought of all the blessings that have followed me even after I began to destroy those annoying and untruthful letters. Here's a chain for everyone who reads this. Be good to each other, don't send out stupid letters as scare tactics, just treat people the way you want to be treated and the world just might be a better place. You can pass this message along if you want, but if you choose not too, your house won't blow up nor will your toes fall off from the scorching heat. The only thing that will happen is somewhere along the way, someone else might say the same thing again, and you'll just have another opportunity to hear it again.

Be blessed People!

Who's Mimicking Who Here? 


You see the handsome fellow with the intelligence of a 6 yr old who's making all the cute little faces. I found myself praying for him today. The other one is quite common and can be found in your local zoo.

Which is which?

Friday Night Girls Chat

Last night was interesting to say the least. I had a chance to talk with a group of women from a couple of online groups that I'm a part of. To be truthful, I was trying not to be a part as I am still a lil hesitant when it comes to being a part of a group of nothing but sista's(maybe growing up as the only girl had something to do with that) but somehow God is moolding me to make me appreciate sistahood. We had good conversations which ranged from hair care to cancer to boy toys (boy toys) that one still makes me smile. Anyway, it was a very pleasant relaxing evening and afterwards, I found myself completely exhausted so I fell into bed around 1am.

Today, I'm back up hard at work on my book, trying to keep my focus as it looks like its gonna be a beautiful day, and the outdoors are calling me. Ok, maybe I'll go out and shop for a while then work later on this evening. Yea that sounds like a plan. Have a great weekend fellow bloggers.

I wish I wish I wish

I've recently discovered that I don't embrace change as much as I thought I would. I'm moving forward, but somedays at a snails pace. Yesterday I ask my boyfriend what day was it. He responded, "you know that means your either doing too much, or not enough when you can't remember the day of the week.' I smiled and quickly responded. Oh yeah, Im doing way too much. Truth is, I think I lied. I'm moving too slow and not doing as much as I should, simply because I'm kind of afraid of the uncertainty of certain changes in my near future. I'm pushing every day. Guess I try a little harder today.

Let's make a wish!

If you had an opportninty to change anything about you today ', what would it be and why? It can be physical, mental, emotional, demographics, anything at all. Some of us might say, we want a bigger income or a better home, but who's willing to admit they want to change something about their personalities, or character?

I'll be the first to admit, I wish I used a larger portion of my brain, and I wish to be more organized. Shedding a few pounds would be nice too. Whew, that was hard Dr. Phil. Now can I go eat?

Call it what you like

Is there a perception bigger or smaller than that which we see of ourselves? How many times do we find ourselves questioning our own abilities or putting ourselves in positions to attempt the impossible? We create situations that warrant the help of others, but often reject that help because we are conditioned to doing things on our own. (Who died and made you a mountain?) Have you ever met someone so hardheaded you knew they were destined for some sort of failure, but they convinced themselves they didn't need anyone? Stubborn people always have fascinated me, especially those who try and function in intimate relationships knowing they really wish they could be their own partner in every way because allowing someone else a little closeness in their lives simply makes them somehow less SUPERHUMAN.

Today, I’m going to let my real genius shine through. I’ll accept help when it’s necessary because as great as I am, I still need others to make it through this life.

signed....The lonely writer who's never really alone.

Maya's Words

I've been up all night, putting the finishing touches on what looks to be a great literary accomplishment. What started as a simple project has turned into a major thing. It feels so good to be wanted, but someone should have told me it would take so much work. I would have cloned myself long ago. I'm drained and I need a lift. Her words do it for me every time.


"Still I Rise"

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou

Can You Hear Me Now???

Im lying on the beach somewhere in Brazil, sipping on Mai-Tai's with an incredibly sexy Brazilian beach boy waiting on me hand and foot. The skies are a pristine blue, and I smile softly as I inhale the fresh ocean water. The waves lightly serenade me, as I stare into the beautiful brown eyes of this gorgeous brown man. He stands over me asking if he can rub some more sun screen on my back? I continue to smile....He asks again, "Hey beautiful Can you hear me? Can You Hear Me? Then he's tugging on my arm asking me, Hey, Can you hear me?.....Suddenly my sexy beach boy's voice begins to change into this high pitched whine........

Hey can you hear me? Can you hear me now......MAMA, CAN YOU HEAR ME, WAKE UP!!!! I'm no longer on my beach in Brazil. I'm in my bed with my teenage daughter standing over me tugging at my arm. "Mama, I'm gonna die, she says' 'What's wrong Kortny' I say, as I reluctantly pull myself out of bed for another one of her Hypocondriatic episodes.

She's jumping around getting very excited. I look at the clock. 6:15 am. Enough time to go back to Brazil if I can get her to quiet down and go to sleep. Ok, what's the problem? Well Ma, I was cleaning my ears and the Q-tip broke off in my hear. Not a problem, go get the tweezers and nurse Mama will have this solved in 2.5 seconds. She hurries off to get the tweezers while I try and figure out if my Brazilian boy had a six pack or an eight pack. Damn he was fine. He's calling me. My mouth waters as I think of all that the second portion of sleep will contain.

So now I'm digging in my daughters ear trying to get this foreign object removed when she starts screaming. Not crying, just screaming. 'Ok, let's just go to the emergency room Ma cause I'm scared that infection may set in and I'll have permanent hearing loss which, will lead to brain damange. My daughter has not slept in 24 hours and has a tendancy to over think things as much as I do....

So now we defy traffic signals and speed limits getting to the hospital in record time. We walk into the empty E.R and explain to the doctor what has happened. He checks her ear and much to our dismay, there is absolutely nothing in it. The whole ear canal is completely clear. We stare at the doctor. Are you sure, I ask? Yes says the good doctor. May she just rubbed it too hard and thought she broke the q-tip off in there. I smile at the doctor while inside I can see the beach boy laughing at me from somewhere in my subconscious.

Diagnosis: Foreign Body Irritation
Remedy: Do not clean ears after not sleeping for over 24 hours, it may cause Hallucinations.

On the way home, my daughter looks at me and says. "Ma, I'm sorry. I really thught I had something in my ear."

'No problem', I say. 'But as soon as we get home, I'm calling that nice physchologist we took you to a while back.' "Ma, do you think I'm crazy?' 'No, baby, of course not. The appointment is for me. I want to see if he can prescribe me something strong enough so I can sleep through your next accidently non-existant injury because thus far, Nyquil doesn't work.'

She looks at me, and I smile at her as we pull into our driveway. It's now 7:13 a.m and the beach boy has left me for a blonde Norwegian chick with big boobs. Damn!

Why didn't you just pray?

This battle I'm in

fighting against my own flesh,

Warring against sin

can't be won

if drastic measures aren't done

Can somebody please pray?

I don't mean say one of those

Bless her O'God while watching TV kinda joints

but that old school, get down on your knees

kill the radio, internet and TV kinda joints

pleading the blood, putting down plate and pen

and asking God to get me out of this sin

forgive me once again

Engage in warfare, for your sista, or your brother

Sacrifice for the greater good

of another soul

and in the end

God won't have to look at you and say

"Why didn't you just pray?"


Icylyrics 2005

What Defines Me?

Some days the wind feels good against my face...
other days the thought of no movement at all makes me smile....

This is one such day!


I've been asking myself that question a lot these past couple of days. I came home to peace and quiet, home in order, children doing well, yet inside I was so unhappy. I'm not sure why. Yesterday I began reading a new book called 'In my bedroom' by Donna Hill, and the book is explosive as it brings to light the emotional strain a woman goes through after suffering different types of abuse. I was once abused. Now I deal with the effects of the past every day. Whether I want to or not. Anyway there was a quote in the book where one of the doctors was telling a patient at the mental hospital....Don't let where you are define who you are. I been thinking about this all night. If I am not to be defined by where I am in my life, what exactly defines me? All my minor accomplishments don't seem to amount to anything major. Or is that just me beating up on myself. Before anyone reads this and makes some type of assumption, allow me to say, I am not depressed. That is not where I am. Just a woman trying to figure some things out and get there. Where? To that place where I can answer a question without asking another question.....

My daughter loved her new clothes and I found my very first poetry disk. Maybe I'm not as unhappy as I thought.

Preliminary Sadness

You ever know for a fact that at a particular moment in your future you were gonna be sad, torn apart, broke down, hurt? Felt it coming. Even if you didn't wanna believe it, you just knew that the results of something in your life would just make you sad. Like distance. Distance from those you love sucks. For me its like a doble edged sword, getting to reunite with one group of loved ones while walking away from another. My heart hurts right now becase tomorrow I may have to shed a few tears. I hate to cry. It makes me feel weak. I'm confessing something here and I'm not sure why, but I pray I get stronger. I don't want to be sad for long, but it hurts just the same. Tomorow I won't blog because my fingers will be numb, and my soul will be in another place. I'll smile and say, everything's ok, but it won't be because I've discovered something in my 37 years of living. You can't be everywhere at the same time. Unless of course you get the patent on one of those clonning machines.

Puddle of Black Woman on a Hard Wood Floor

It's all a haze right now. I got up sometime during the middle of the night to go get a drink of water, when it occurred to me...My legs are not operating properly As soon as I put my feet on the floor, all my weight collapsed and I ended up being a puddle of black woman on a HardWood floor. I began to laugh, as did my partner who was the culprit who caused this unhealthy condition. The room was hot. I was sweating but he was sweating so much harder. I was thirsty. All I wanted was a drink of water but my legs refused to carry me to the kitchen to quench my thirst. He was sweating profusely and as gross as it may sound, I wanted to lick the sweat off his chest to get some sort of liquid into my body. I tried willing myself to stand. Twinges began to hit me like I was being stung by a million tiny lil bumblebees. I looked at the harmless dragon on the wall and began to curse him. 'what the fuck are you starring at, you fucking fire breathing voyeur ' I wondered if he enjoyed watching the intimate yet hard core scene from earlier. He just kept going and going and going! Yes I was in quite a state to be having a conversation with a picture on the wall, but so what its my life, and if sex is that good that you start talking to objects, it deserves to be recorded both orally and.....(speaking of orally...OMG) anyway, I was normal at one time. At least I was before I became a puddle of black woman on a hardwood floor. If I was Bewitched I could twinkle my nose and command the bottle of water to float to me through the air, but I wasn't quite so fortunate. If I was Oprah I could command one of my many servants, or just tell Stedman to get off his fat lazy arse and fetch me a glass of h20. But no, I have to be a strong black woman engaging in the most intensifying sexual experience of my life with a superb lover who gets 5 stars every day of the week. Only he's a puddle of black man lying on the bed, and my ass is thirsty. I cant even open my mouth to say, 'please, will you get me a drink?' I just breathe.....Heavy. Like a fat kid who ate too much cake. I think to myself, maybe it was the 'bucket of boat trash' I ate a bubba gumps that has me feeling sorta like a parapalegic. Maybe its those 30 blocks we walked in Manhattan earlier that night. Maybe I just need to get my fat ass on a tred mill and work out so I won't be so knocked the fuck out during moments of intense sexual pleasure In any case, I'm a puddle, even today, as I have willed my legs to work, but feel somewhat like a cross between Elmer Fudd, a black non-anorexic Paris Hilton and Michelle from Destiney's child. That bitch falls down more than the law allows.

My evening was fan fucking tastic in spite of my unstable condition.........and how was yours?

(to my homie at the 5-2-6 bigg ups my nicca, you handled like a chief who' knows how to how to use the peace pipe)

Confusion in the Shadows. (an interpretation)

I saw it. He saw it too. In my mind as I began to slowly drift off to sleep I remembered saying to myself. Looks like a rat on the wall. Then he asks me. What's causing that shadow? It wasn't fear. I knew this. It was just an insatiable desire to know what caused the shadow on the wall. I offer what I think might be an intelligent answer, then he moves to the other side of the room and begins moving things around to find the cause of the distortion on the wall. In the back of my brain, something says, this formation of a rat represents what you had just experienced earlier. I am afraid of rats. Most who know me, know this is my one true fear. I hate them, detest them. Will walk away from my home if I ever see one. Have done so in the past when the struggle didn't include strong pesticides to keep the rodents away, as I lived next to an alley that was filled with them. Thank you God for change.

Anyway, I watched Mr. Rat. He didn't move. He was dead, but in my mind he was snickering at us. Snickering at the earlier exchange where one of us was trapped and the other saught to pull the other to safety. Doesn't matter who was drowning. If he drowns, I drown. We are one. I drown in my dreams if they attempt to confuse me to the point where I can not function or get a good nights sleep. (This entry is not for entertainment purposes....deep shit happened, I need to express it, so bear with me) I kept hearing his words, yet something was attempting to pull me deeper into sleep. This in itself was unusual as I am usually the one left starring at the wall, while he drifts off into nothingness. I drifted. He fought. Battled some demonic forces that brought a powerful spirit with them. Confusion. I heard the battle, and wanted to help fight, yet there was something, something trying to keep my attention from what he was going through. God needed me to be strong and something was holding me. Until he said, "SIT UP NOW!" Whatever it was that was slowly driving me into unconsciousness had to release its hold and I could sit up and engage in spiritual warfare. It was real spiritual warfare. I believe in the power of God. I make this no secret. I don't bite my tongue and I don't fret as most believers do when it comes to spirituality and knowing who God is. I know Him. He knows me. So I sat up, and I could almost feel the ground trying to collapse under me. Then he said, "come on. I have to do this." I knew exactly what he was doing. Getting that spirit our of our home. I walked, I prayed. I felt the ground trying to shft under my feet, but God said,"keep praying." This force will not win. You are stronger than any element that attempts to destroy you because I am in you. We prayed through the night.

I awoke this morning, exhausted. He knew I was tired. He let me rest. He kissed me and I slept in peace. Then after he had left, I saw a door opening and confusion ran through it. He ran and had 'gazillions' of Hungry New York Rats following after Him. I was no longer afraid. He was in the form of a woman who preferred Beef to Pork, but felt she needed to prove a point (by counting points) She had long hair and a cunning smile. She had a level of openess that I found intriguing and somewhat disturbing, yet I didn't initially know what to make of it. Now I know why he stays 'away from shadows', (not a blunder) away from the glamor and glitz of too many interpersonal relationships. You open yourself to Confusion, and if he stays too long, he will bring some of his partners, (anger, discord, control, uncleanliness, whoredom......and before you know it, your home will be in dissaray, and your soul will be in utter turmoil. I must go clean now. Confusion is gone, and order must be restored to our home.

Father, I thank you for allowing me to write about this experience!

Have You Seen Any Bullshit Lately?

One of the many things that fascinates me about writing is how two people can take one topic, and wrtie about it in totally different ways. Each of us as writers have our own style of delivering a story, or a poem. Literature is beautiful in that it allows each of our perceptions to take on what we percieve the artist is trying to say. I recently read some poetry, that in my opinion was horrible. I went to a book store, purchased a book from a writer that I'd never heard of. On the cover of the book the author appeared to be connected to some sort of machine with tues and wires and looked as if he were in a coma. That should have been a tell-tale sign right there. However I was al\ways taught never to judge a book by its cover, so I bought the book.

I came home excited, thinking I'm about to read some real deep poetry about this dude who may have had a near death experience, but no no no. Not even close. He began to speak in crazy ass codes that not even I, the code queen, could decipher. Beginning versus of each poem with out of place punctuation, sideways grammer, and writing from somewhere so deep inside himself that it confused even me. I AM NOT EASILY CONFUSED! (cept of course Monday -Sunday) Anyway I was disappointed because after reading a few poems it was obvious to me that this dude was simply saying shit. And calling it poetry. I wanted to yell at the book and say SHUT THE FUCK UP! But that would have done no good since I was reading printed material that in my opinion should have stayed in his personal journal. The most disappointing factor in this book occurred at the end, which should I have read in the book store, I'm pretty sure the book would have stayed in its dusty home on the bottom of the bookshelf. The author says this about himself...

" Not much is known about_(leaving out his name just in case his two fans might happen to read this blog)_______He was born in Harlem and lived for a while in Atlanta and other places and stuff. Now in Brooklyn, he works as a bag boy at the Pathmarks or something.'

Is this the author's way of saying, 'anybody can get published, all you gotta do is throw some words together and get self published' I was disappointed not so much in wasting $15.00, but I was upset that the quality of who we are as writiers can be often reduced to pieces of crap such as this book. I'm not a judgemental person by nature, however when it comes to my writing and that of my fellow artists, I do beleive that we have a responsibility to produce work that says something positive about our craft. I realize that poetry is an often wide venue, and what one interprets as crap, another might view as a fine piece of poetry. However reading this book has taught me a valuable lesson. I never want one of my readers to pick up anything I've written and feel as I feel about this book. I have to work harder, strive for more excellence in my own personal writing style, and be committed to accept both praise and critcism as I become more well known in the literary field.

I'm striving to be a good writer. I work hard everyday to make my words mean something, I also know there are tons of good writers out there that have more tenacity and the ability to appeal to a broader audience which will clasify them as being 'among the best'. As much as I want to be published by a reputable publishing house, I realize its gonna take more work, and maybe even a few dissapointments along the way. When I read poetry by Nikki Giovanni, Jill Scott, Langston Hughes, Chromemic, Bonita Jacobs, GG, Korema, & Locumdwn just to name a few, I know that I can't just throw words on a page and call it poetry. These people give me the encouragement through their writing to be strive for excellence in my own.

I was angry at the author of that poetry book. I'm sure most people would say, I'm being way too deep about the whole thing. I can hear my daughter saying...."well Ma, just don't read it'. or I can hear a few of my friends laughing at the book and making a mockery of some of the poems. I'm not gonna do that, because I do respect the fact that he believed in himself and took the necessary efforts to get his book published. Something has to be said for that, however the content of his pieces were weak, confusing, nausiating and actually had me wretching a time or two. I know this is my interpretation. By no means am I an expert.

I pray he gets stronger in his writing. I must digress from this and get back to the task at hand. Becomming a Great Writer. How long will it take me? Will people enjoy my work? Will anyone ever feel about my writing the way I felt about this book? Am I wrong for expressing such a strong opion about someone's 'art'? Should I just read it again and maybe try for a different interpretation?

Well in any case I've been really watching my carbs lately, so I may be suffering some sort of mental block...(lol) let me work on not producing bullshit through my written words. Or even my spoken ones for that matter. Don't yall think there's enough bullshit already out here in the world without writers adding to the pile?

I guess what I'm trying to say is self-expression is a beautiful thing, and we all have the right to say and write what we feel. However as artists, there's a line that must be drawn when it comes to producing words and calling it Poetry. I refuse to be one of those bullshit writers who honestly beleives 'ANYTHING GOES'

Self Exposure

Have you ever had a day when you found yourself completely exposed? Almost liie a fish out of water. Uncomfortable, alone, sad, full of self promoted anguish, flopping around desperately wanting to be back in the water where its dark and dreary? If you answered yes, then you are one of the millions of people who have decided to implement 'trust' in another individual. This is a hard place to be in, especially if you've grown comforable hiding in lonely shadows where no life resides simply because you don't choose to worry about people fucking wit your head. I, the country bunkin, who's generally leary of all those venturing into my life with a happy song and a microphone, found myself in a position of 'Exposure.' It's was the most exasperating, yet heartwarming experience in my life. My back was against the wall, and suddenly I realized although I had a choice in whether or not to relinqush my generally cool and suave country demeaner, it would be in my best interest to EXPOSE MYSELF to the elements. Wow, now I'm already feeling the growth...(private joke) I got angry, I cried, I screamed inside myself, at one point it even felt like I was dying. I was COMPLETELY EXPOSED! I even was about to walk away because getting to that point of trust often makes one want to just throw in the towel, simply because your mind is telling you. 'somewhere down the road, trusting this person is going to come back and bite me in the ass. Or in my case, both my asses (pj)

Trust is so hard for me, yet I've found myself walking into a place of complete trust. Am I crazy? Have I lost my ever loving country cornbread mind? Should I be committed? (Committed to the process....lol) Or should I just thank heaven that somehow I realized today that I am human, and it's ok for me to become 'exposed.'? Bonita once told me, Secrets give her head aches. I'm feeling her now, although I didn't understand what the hell she was talking about at the time. I want to be known for who and what I am, not who I'm perceived to be by those who really don't know me. I like not hiding anymore, its a cool place to be in. You should try it with someone you really love. Like I did!

Flesh Tingle

Today, my flesh is tingling. Not because I'm overly turned on by any particular thing, but I'm one of those folks that when I feel rushed or nervous, or whatever, my body just automatically responds. I've been watching the clock all day, and its as if its playing tricks on my mind. Maybe I need a pill. No, I need to pray. Yeah that's it.

So, this tingling feels sort of like my bones want to actually leap out of my body and do what the rest of me seems too slow in doing. I have to be somewhere in a matter of hours, and I'm no where near ready. Well actually I'm just stressing unnecessarily. So, I'm off this box, gonna go try and stop my flesh from tingling so I won't feel the need to smack myself in the airport. That aughta be a great sight for airport security.

security supervisor speaking into two-way Radio
'Um Charlie we have a large black woman with crazy hair standing in the corner apparently striking herself. Go ahead and call the police cause this one aint getting on the plane......

yeah, Icy betta pull it together and fast!......lol (oops, is that not allowed anymore?)

This post was strickly for your enjoyment......I'm cool as a cucumber

Harsh Realities

Have you ever wake up and just looked at yourself , realizing something major has to happen in your life before you can go forward? These past few days have been eye openers for me in every sense of the word. This morning I was asleep and had a dream of a life that I never thought could be mine. When I woke up, I smiled, looked around seen my surroundings, and sighed heavily. I silently said to God...'when' He said, when you decide you are ready to make it happen. I know having a better more productive life takes work, and sometimes I stress because I've worked hard all my life. Now He's telling me there's no rest in sight. (smile) I will trudge on and become stronger in the process.

A dear friend of mine lost her son's father, and I was surprised at how much his death affected me, especially since I didn't even know him. She, however, is a woman I have come to love and respect a great deal. She makes me laugh, cry, and generally on most days she manages to piss me off with her antics. Nonetheless, I hate to see her hurting and feel so helpless. I prayed. I prayed some more. Not only for her, but for all of those people in my life who have recently had to deal with harsh realities. I know there is something to be said for going through and conquering adversitites, but I hope everyone realizes that a life without true purpose is not much of a life at all. As is a life without God.

Chillin' with ML

...I don't even know how to begin to describe my day. It was wonderful to say the least. The weather was great. Spent the entire afternoon with my boyfriends mother, and I must say, she is one of the most delightful women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I was a little nervous at first, but that quickly faded as the conversation progressed. She's so proper, yet so down to earth all at the same time. We had a wonderful lunch, good conversation, and shared lots of laughs. For me the highlight of the day was when I ask her what the family curse word was and she looked at me innocently and blurted out....SHIT! You have to know this woman to understand both the humor and shock in me hearing her say this small piece of profanity. I've never heard her cuss before, so when she said it, my mind started twirling like I was high or something. I felt as if I were dining with royalty one minute, and the next minute I was laughing so hard I thought I'd lose my lunch.

We went to see a movie, (Herbie) and I found myself cringing at the screen on more than one occasion since my boyfriend actually despises Lindsey Lohann, for reasons that would require a whole nother post. Yet I enjoyed my time with her as it was like being with a female version of him, which is both heartwarming and kinda weird all at the same time. I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Professional Chatters

...so I'm working, minding my business, hearing the ding dong of posts going to various yahoo groups. Thus far being successful at igging them all, when I suddenly get an (I.M) from someone I haven't chatted with in ages. He feels its necessary to issue out New Chat Codes, as if there are those of us who don't already have enough on our plates trying to ignore the mundane crap that often gets sent throughout cyberspace. So being the smart ass that I naturally am, I stop writing my story, which is getting to a crucial point. Read the (im ) and am instantly pissed off. So here is his announcement to all of internet land letting us all know that the internet codes for professional chatters have changed.....WHO ACTUALLY GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT ANY OF THIS SHIT...??? (DO YOU?) Cause I sure as hell don't. So I read it, get pissed, and have to issue him a response with the request for him to send it to everyone on the same list, and guess what, he does it. So I'm sure by Monday, I'll have some nice nasty I'm's from those professional chatters who have to defend the New Chat Codes Freedom of Chat act.....bored fuckers.....

(IMPORTANT MESSAGE TO CHATTERS EVERYWHERE)
The new language for the "ghettofied" ~B2B=Bout to bounce (no more g2g, who says that?) ~2DF=Too damn funny (no more lmao, NOBODY says that on a reg. basis) ~HU=Hold up (no more brb, it just looks ugly) ~SSA=SEX/STATE/AGE (Asl was getting kind of old My grandfather knew what it meant!) ~ICU= I'm cracking up! (No more lol, that word was annoying aZ hell) WP?/WG?/WRG?/WU?=What's poppin?/What's good?/What's really good?/sup PLz PASS this on to all on yo list

Icy'S RESPONSE : whoever created the original codes can't be half as lame as the indviduals who created the revised ones....If you chat with that many people to where you can't complete a sentence and have to use all these stupid ass codes, because of some self imposed time restriction....get off the computer and do something else....(Please send this public service announcement to everyone on your list and tell them Icy says, get a fucking life)

Of course now I've lost motivation for writing, so I'm going to bed....dreaming of strangling these people who sit and think of this type of stupidity to clog people's Im' boxes and emails.

The Incredibles

This has to be one of the best animated movies I've ever seen. Not so much because of the heroics of the Supers, (although Dash running on the water was the coolest shit I've seen in a while) but because of one line in the movie. The part where Edna tells Elastagirl once she finds out Mr. Incredible has accepted another assigment and gone back to the old life..."You have tell him who he is, and remind him who you are." The first time I heard that line, my boyfriend and I were watching it, and he pointed out how powerful it was, but for some reason, it didn't click to me at that moment. Maybe I was too busy simply trying to figure out why they made Elastagirl have such a huge ass, but now it's another part I love. I had to allow the movie to be absorbed into my spirit. Now that I've watched it some 38 times, (yes I have a life) I see the defining principles of what the movie was really about. Family unity, believing in yourself, and overcoming a society who thinks they can determine what your level of normalcy should be, but most of all, just being who you are.


Mr. Incredible had a zeal and a zest to do what he was destined to do. Circumstances often warranted he do something different, but his desire to save mankind was embedded in him, so when an opportunity came, he had no choice but to forsake his mundane esistance and be who he was designed to be. Same here. I have to be who I was designed to be. No more sitting on my super powers simply because everyone around me is so morbidly plain and ordinary. I'm strange in many ways, but as my brother used to tell me, 'strange is an asset in a strange land.'

So as I prepare to go to my strange land (NY) I have to keep in mind that regardless of what this little town has tried to do to me. I am still 'Elastagirl' even years later with a big booty, an adorable smile, and a sense of humor most folks just don't get.

I will remind them all who I am!

UNFOCUSED BEAUTY
When you get close enough to something truly beautiful and still can't see it, Consider this, it might not be your eyes that need to be checked, but your heart.

Sistagirls Love

Today was one of those days where I couldn't see the sun. Not because it wasn't shining, but because I was busy fighting for the greater good. It's amazing what we as women go through from day to day just in trying to maintain in this world. We deal with so much, yet most of the times we are so much stronger than our own anger and hurt. Today I saw a reflection of an younger me in someone else. It hurt me. It angered me. It made me realize that time is not meant to be wasted, but every moment in this life is to be treasured and treated with respect. From now on, all my moments will mean something.

The What ifs of an Idle Mind

...Sometimes I find myself thinking of really crazy things. Especially on nights like this when sleep is a distant memory like summer camp and Jellies. Like what if Tom Cruise and Katie holmes showed up on my door step offering to give me an interview. This would be the perfect opportunity to use my son's new Louisville Slugger baseball bat. What if my insane neighbor was actually coming through my bedroom window right now with an ax in hand convinced I needed to be sacrificed to the Newport Gods. Or what if I'm not typing this, but it's my subconscious mind allowing me to tap into another part of an old memory of myself, and I'm actually dead. (Matrix shit fo yo azz) What if Michael Jackson became Black again and wanted to marry me and have 5 kids, only we couldn't have sex, I'd have to have sex with Tito cause Michael was a priest and took a vow of celibacy? What if Osama was chilling in the White House Basement and Condaleeza was the only one who knew it. Hmmm, I'm glad sun's coming up cause well, it can get a lil scary when I let my mind get idle.

(stepping out of idle for just a minute)
Just imagine a world were people actually did what they said they were gonna do, and the news was always good. Imagine a world without murders, rape, molestation, hunger, poverty, homelessness, lies or deciet. Imagine being able to trust in advertising and the media had special transmitters in them that forced them to report the TRUTH (Just for you Hayden). Imagine no computers...(Shuddering...brrrrr) Imagine preachers who didn't steal from their congregations, and Aids was nothing more than a new dance move the teenagers done at the clubs. Imagine people living in peace without the threat of discrimination, racial profiling, or blatant ignorance. Imagine if you could just say what you wanted, and there it was. Imagine how many people would kill themselves from the shock of it!

Copycats on The Prowl

Ok, here's to all the assholes who read blogs and can't form thoughts of your own. You should be beaten with a Bullwhip! Copycats are worse than people who don't pay their taxes. I say this on behalf of all the good people who read and blog for the sole purpose of self-expression or mental health purposes or whatever. There are people who steal words. What's really sad is my Sweetie and I were just discussing this very thing the other day. Low and behold, I found one such thief today. The cunning sommabitch took a whole post of mine and made it his, what's worse, the fucker hasn't posted anything since. No, what's worse than that is he's not a stranger. Well he's strange, but I knew him quite well. Wow, I feel famous now. Imagine that, only been bloggin for a few months and already getting Plagerized.

Damn, a bitch might need to get an agent and a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes since I'm that important.

When my book drops, and it will this year, Im gonna send you about 50 copies so you can sell them on the streets city streets since you so hard up and have resorted to theft. Get a fucking life and stay outta mine.

Thank You for listening good people, Yes, this is a tad of Icy anger, now I digress and get back to my regular happy go lucky self wondering if today's words will show up anywhere else. Wow, I guess this means I have finally arrived. Not sure where, but I'm somewhere!

Today's Quote:
Sometimes shit just be funny, don't it?

An intimate meeting of worlds through words

Woven
(Me) The way we came together
so intracately our bodies fused
once thinking love was for others
and sexuality only made us amused

but now my spine connects
with your
fingertips
shamelessly
your strength holding me
your breath tingles against
the softness of my lips

Woven together are we
as black should be found
intimately
sensiously
eternally
bound

Complete oneness
my lover
guides my every move
We are woven!

(He) UNRAveled (incomplete)Prologue Intertwined are we That she calls us woven. And we speak in tongues cloven of fire. Desire. But when silence comesand embered tongues are stilled, she is sometimes filledwith doubt about, where we stand and how tight are the threads the ties that bind.Until I come to remind her of the best part of being wovencoming UNRAvelvedWith one touch her fibers breakand makehairs stand on endand deft fingers get all up in those knots loosening her kinks without breaking skin.fingers follow threads until every fiber's freed every thread's been pulled, unravelling every need every strandso loose she can't standso she laysin a pileuntil deft fingers returnand create a new textileMy thread and hersmake fabrics so refined patters undefined by the curren trends and style and her touch her fingers unwind me just the same until, like her , I'm lain my loose threads in a pile with hers waiting.for The Hand that wove us first, to come and intercede.Find us and reweave.tighten what we've freed....

Untainted Beauty

Untainted Beauty
There were moments when he was speaking that it occured to me that our lives were held in that one moment. The moments were we both opened up to the other and spoke only the truth. I listened to his words, and was honored by the beauty of his honesty. Although he's always been true to me, last night his words seemed to take on more meaning and I was reminded of a place that his words often take me and it looks much like the scene above. What can a woman say, when she is so completely in love with a man that he has her actually visualizing beauty in her head because when she looks at him all she can see is complete love.

I think of how much my life has changed over the years and I realize that every day I get closer to my destiny, how can I not thank God for the people, places and situations that give me the desire to keep making this life as awesome as it was designed to be. My heart is filled with so much love today simply because there is at least one person in this world who thinks I'm the most important person in their world.

Fresh truth unabandoned

I discovered earlier today there's nothing in this world greater than self discovery. Today while surfing the deep dark world of bloggism I came across a blog that left my mouth hanging open and my body yearning for more. Am I gonna spill what I saw, naw cause some of yall will be asking me for the address, and well. Damn it was deep. Anyway of course I pulled out my faithful leather bound journal and began to write what I saw, what I felt. My fingers are still shaking (soaking) at the images that stared me in the face and made me write about the darkness that leapt off the page.

How many of us are willing to admit that we are attracted to things in this life that are somewhat taboo. I spoke in an earlier post that I was once turned on by this mentally retarded dude when I was in high school. Ok, now at the ripe young age of...how old am I again? Well anyway, I have to admit there are still aspects of me that I'm discovering and well, its cool. I'm totally into learning me and all that it brings forth. I found myself thinking of my childhood and that room across from my bedroom where all the guests were entertained. One night I ran into something that confused the hell out of me, and even today, I ask myself why was I allowed to see those images? Anyway, I'm still gonna love and learn me in all my glory. I've read a lot of blogs that have been speaking of truth, but many times we forsake what we feel for what we think is acceptable. Another writer told me once, write from my soul and let nothing else plague your words.

What about you? Are you committed to learning all there is as it pertains to your emotions, sexual desires, career aspirations? Wow, those are three broad bridges. Believe it or not, there not really that far apart.