Erasing My Words

One day I wrote of the hardships of being black, spoke eloquently of the passion that drew me, the love that knew me, and even spoke of all the flack...I had to take in order to make a point living in this society that will never embrace me. Someone praised me for my boldness, another quietly patted me on my back. There were even a few murmureres who couldn't understand my need for justice if I was living the American dream. Why make waves they said? Why? because it's the right of every individual to express those issues that are important. How many men and women had to die in order for me to stand and speak the truth. Even though it's my truth, its' your truth too, you just choose to beleive the lie. I can't. I can't sit idly by watching a whole nation of people die to their own ignorance. So they sought to stifle me, but taking my printed words and handing them over to David Copperfied so he could ultimatley make them disappear. I will still speak, and although those words are gone, I have more. The revolution may not be won with me, but I will die fighting for it.

Attempting to figure out the mind of a black woman who thinks beyond the scope of her reality should always make for interesting reading. 

Being Black on a White Day

Where am I supposed to go now
when all around me everythings white
I don't know why, but I heard it used to be worse
I wish Mama would've told me
it was gonna be this way, that there'd be times when
black was gonna stand out like a sore thumb
somebody playing tricks on me
I'm sure that's it. Right?
That lady didn't just call me jiggaboo under her breath, did she?
The man at the store didn't overcharge me for a roll of
toilet paper. Of course not, that's petty, and that just shouldn't be
Should it?
Can't even go get my hair did, cause they overcharging blacks down
at the white salon, and everything white,
so I start twisting my hair
locking in my blackness since they tryna lock me out
outta they stores
outta they jobs
outta they country
I still got my rhythm, and that makes em mad
they try and take it, copy it, but its a lil too complicated
so they come up with something else,
call it Hard Rock
take some pills and just zone out.
do some other stupid shit
While I'm next door praying my white neighbor
turn it off cause I gotta be at work at 6:am
but my headphones is on, and Stevie, Marvin and Aretha
takes me away....back to Africa
where the beats are all in perfect sequence...
but only black can see the nature of that type of rhythm
untainted by anger and pure hatred
just a black beat
in a black world
even if only in this poem
I find my sanctuary.

Tinkers of a Black Woman's Brain

We think hard
least most of us do
spent some time wondering
bout all the why's, and hows
tryna figure out how to make
an end meet another end
so they can copulate
smoke, then laugh at me
then them tilted bowls
where all the icecream is gone
cause we ate away the pain
or at least pushed it back down
into the pit of my stomach
with the rest of my issues
To be lost, like a black penny on a new york street
cause it don't matter how different you are
how crazy your hair might be
nails bitten to the nub
won't matter
cause in New York, every body different
so I'll fit right in
but for now, I'll just tinker on something else
like when he gonna call

Being Me

Can I just be me today
Strike up a tune that don't nobody know
put a big purple flower in my hair, tousel my
locs that finally started growing

Can I be me today
Wear my lip gloss and tatored old jeans
the wones with holes in the seams
cause I used to be fat, now I'm just chilling in thick
thinking bout going back, but that's ok,
aint it?

Can I just write me today
Spread myself slowly across the pages
whisper at myself while watching my lips curl
into a smile
blow some bubbles
eat some fried eggs
Then maybe I'll read me for a while

All Rights Reserved. Who'd dare to be me anyway?

White Haiku

Aint' no sunshine here
they took it all for their skin
I embrace darkness

Bearing My Cross

I've heard we all got a cross to bear
but mine gets a lil heavy at times
so now I stand behind it
wondering if it will look back
and snatch me up
Put me in front,
where they say I should be
so they can climb on my back
and make me tired all over again

I'll prolly wonder til I get my answer

An Itch Before Midnight

I feel it even before I see it, like the eyes of angels pointing me toward that which can only be seen through that heavenly third eye vision. Wings of tough leather stirke chords within the window like some sort of Mantra. I'm not afraid, its just time to scratch the itch. Gotta let all the old go, and move forward. No more words are necessary, I smile at my angel as I succumb to the scratch. Soft hands with just the right amount of strength to let me know I was born to be loved.

Having that last word!

Ok, so now, so all questions have been recorded, discussed, re-recorded, analyzed, deciphered, and it still comes down to this.....who really gives a fuck? Some things we don't need to anlyze to the point they are turned into mush. I REFUSE TO BE MUSH IN ANYONE'S WORLD! Dammit let me be a frosty or fresh bag of Sugar or something, but never mush. If you can't figure me out, then odds are, I''m just a lil to much for ya. I have figured out the most intricate pieces to my puzzle are not in the things you hear about me, but most often the things that are deep inside that you have to probe to reach. Most aren't up for that deep probing it takes to get to the heart of ME! IT'S sorta like going on a roller coaster ride, getting to the top and suddenly deciding...Im getting the fuck off of here, but then you realize you 200 feet in the air, and you can't get off cause if you do, you will fall. Sometimes you still fall, simply cause the ride gets to crowded. Or they just say something stupid making you wish you were anywhere but in an 'amusement' park.

Thinking out Loud

Wow...these past couple weeks been so wild I haven't been able to write my thoughts the way I wanted. Trust me though the memories are filtering through my brain like slow motion. I'm vibing my way through Brooklyn tryna get fit, sit, and hit the nails along with the cracks in the pavement. Loving the journey even with all the bumps that sometimes surface. Being loved is truly a beautiful thing and what can I say, I'm in it for the long haul, prying to God I don't lose myself long the way...lol He bought me the most beutiful leather journal for my poetry, and if I don't cry today, surely the streets of Brooklyn will be lined with my tears of joy within the next few dys......no mo illin on Pen when I can chill real on Mad.....Mos Def eat your heart out. Thank you Dave Chappell for making me laugh so hard during this period. Speaking of which.....damn....Will Smith was so on point in Men in Black when he told o'girl to get some new clothes and do her thang.....FELT LIKE THE SKY OPENED UP AND SWALLOWED MY SEXY ASS WHOLE!!! Anyhoo, what else, damn, Shorty's vibin on solo for a min, and I'm on a whole nother literary level, according to my editor in chief Michromics.USA...lol. Damn, been so long since I flowed real stupid like this, my hands getting sweaty. Guess I'd better go check the viddles for big papa get riled up....Til next time, this sweet sexy sista signing out. Happy Memorial Day! And lawd do I have some memories!!!!!

Sad News

Sometimes it just doesn't seem real! Yesterday, I recived news that someone I worked with was gone. Cancer took her away, just like she was never here, and as I prepare to go to work, it just won't be the same. We think we can accept what death shows us, yet sometimes it seems almost surreal. I smile as I think of her fond laughter and the way in which she made everyone feel loved and special. Today I will do something in her honor and ask God to help me where I am weak. I pray my living won't be in vain.

Who's Fault Is it?

.....I'm not mad anymore, but earlier I was pissed. Got to thinking bout what she said and found it funny how people just love to place blame. This got to be the blamenest society ever. No one seems to wanna accept responsibility for their actions, cause our famous words are, it's not my fault. WHO'S FAULT IS IT THEN? Mama for fucking at the wrong time giving you the wrong birthday, Daddy's for leaving too soon, or staying doing something crazy to you or another sibling. Teachers for not understanding. Friends for not really listening. Boyfriend who's only concerned with his needs. Girlfriend too intent on getting you to the altar. The media's for blowing shit completely out of proportion. Who's fault is it that your life is the way it is?

.....she says to me....'um you are so good at what you do' it be a shame to see you leave yet we have to work on your developmental status...
.....i say to her,.....Im working on me, but are you working on you or just monitoring me. I'm sure I've blown that whopping 1.5% pay increase but what the hell, I've discovered it's God who supplies my needs, not the fucked up agency that I work for.

Emotional Rollercoaster.....

...listening to one of my favorite artists(Vivian Green) the words of this songdig deep inside my soul. Aint no sleep gonna grace me tonight, my mind is wide awake, going back and forth to the place where the ride began. Was I an innocent bystander just waiting in line to go on the ride of a lifetime? Or did I somehow know I was in for one hell of a journey? Part of me knew, but it was not enough for me to get outta the line. No I stay in the line and wait my turn like all the other paying customers in the 'amusement park' known as a black man's space. Is it really that important for me to ride this ride? Why do I have to stand in the heat, knowing I could go elsewhere and not go through all the drama. Watching others come off the ride feeling disoriented and about to throw up. Should have been enough to make me turn the other way, but inside each of us is this desire to exprerience something fantastic, exciting, & thrilling. It was a thrill alright, and as I sit here trying to regain my strength from this 'ride' it occurs to me that my clothes are a little disheveled and I may need to relax my mind before moving on to the next attraction.....

...he says, 'you don't know me like I thought you did.' I could cuss you out, but I don't wanna do that....I say, 'it doesn't matter anymore' inside thinking, yeah actually it does but pride won't let my pain show through.
...he thinks...'she's such a gullable bitch.....'
...she thinks....he has no idea

Now I can sleep!
Icy

Broken

Here I am, trudging this road of broken chains and blood stains, listening to the winds gently humming Harriets name. I strain my ears to listen as I vaguely hear. The sounds of police surrounding my neighborhood because someone forsook their freedom card for the right to say..."I GOTTA MAN' Was it worth it? Bruised flesh and broken bones illuminate like clouds on a stormy day. Here I am, attempting to understand, yet pushing the brush out of the way allowing the thorns to only stick pierce the air, not my soul. I have awakened out of my mental slumber, yet I still sacrifice, giving of myself so those who are the wounded might be healed. She is broken. I see her face in the faces of so many women and my heart hurts for her, my hands tremble in anger at what we do all in the name of love. Is it love? When does love become pain, and why do we desire that which can destroy our very lives and the lives of our children? I look at her, I cringe at her bruises. Tears attempt to fill my eyes, but strength allows me to hold them back as I say to her. 'Can I help you?' Knowing her pain is too deep to allow her words, I sit with her and my mind goes back to when I was her. Not all that long ago, I sat in her world just to be able to say that same anthem that she sings to us all. I will not judge. I will be a friend and try show her she can live life like it's golden, but like me, she has to want it.....

....surveying the damage, the doctor stares at me solomely. 18 stiches, a broken arm, several broken ribs, and a dead baby inside me. I remember saying, I'll never allow him to do this to me again. I am not her, I'm stronger than this pitiful woman I have become. As the surgical staff prepares to remove the dead fetus from my body, my heart decides to stop for several moments so that God can speak to my soul. 'Don't go back' he says. You are to live and sometimes death must come for life to be in its proper perspective.' I awoke in tears, belly now empty, heart broken, but I never went back. Even if in my mind I go back each day to remind myself, I have come from somewhere dark. I am not ashamed. I was broken. I now live.

In a New Place....

Today I woke up realizing I was in a new place. I had been moving from the old mentality, old ideas for sometime now, and finally I have been shifted into a complete awareness that I have control over me. I'm no longer bound to the old way, even if it was working. Truth is, it wasn't really working because it kept me from moving, keep me from living. I will not create new struggle, but I will be a part of the solution for that which has been created. I will revolutionize the mindset of the black woman and destroy a stereotype that says we cannot, willnot, and have not. I look around and see all these pitfalls that are designed to entrap us, yet my third eye is in operation and I know the Creator has given me something very powerful. The ability to choose. I choose to live, to grow, to glean and to be more than a conquerer. I write because I am free, and because I am free, I can write with determination and definition. I'm in a new place now.

Heartstrings

How difficult is it to really move on? Even when your actions reflect that you have, sometimes your heart stays in that place. In every area of my life, I've always tried to be a woman who lived as I spoke and allowed my actions to be reflective of my words. My heart or at least a part of it, is in the place where it can't move. I can feel the grains of sand slipping through that space that needs to catch up with the rest of me. Part of me feels open, yearning to be closed again. Is that what's best? I know who I am. I know who's I am, and I know that God loves me, so why the major gap in the heartstrings. I can't even fully give my heart to one because in a sense its' stuck. Not so much in the past, but just in a place where I it can't be touched. Im not lost, just need to be pulled together so I can move a lil quicker. This process isn't always easy as I'm discovering, and somehow, I've got to make it through. Got to!!!!

Committed to the process

To be in a position to want to commit to something, especially in this day and age is really awesome, especially when so many are committed to never committing. I am so grateful for the opportunity that has suddenly been presented before me. One that allows me freedom of expression and the ability to love and be loved. In a perfect world, I would have had this a long time ago, but of course prolly would have managed to do something to destroy it. Not to mention, we don't live in a perfect world. The process of getting to know someone often comes with realizations of just how twisted you are in terms of how you once viewed relationships. If he rubs my feet, I find myself thinking about other situations where my feet were hurting and some other he refused to rub them. Or when he holds me in the middle of the night, I would hear myself crying thinking about all the abuse I once had to suffer. Now since my thinking is going into a whole nother other I'm gonna close out here and pick up a little later with a more cloudier rendition of Icy's mindset for Wednesday. I will say this though, it feels so good to be committed to the process, even if you never actually been through the process in such a way as this before.

No more excuses

Hearing that voice sends me into overdrive. Used to be the coos and softness of it made me smile, now it just seems to irritate the hell out of me. Today wasn't the greatest of days in terms of folks allowing me my peace, but fortunately folks don't determine my level of sanity or the tranquility in my day. I refuse to allow anyone to destroy my peace. No more excuses, no more sad stories. I'm not even gonna place blame anymore. I'm gonna do what I have to do and be what I need to be once and for all. Sometimes words seem to have no meaning, and this seems to have become one of those days. Tomorrow will be a brighter day, it just has to be.

When it Doesn't Matter Anymore

Over the weekend it occurred to me, that everyone will not understand or be able to embrace who I am as a woman. It's ok. I'm human, and in my humaness I have the right to make mistakes and not be condemned to hell for them. I am now at the point where I refuse to allow anyone, and I mean anyone to put me in a place that is not mine. I'm a good woman, and if certain folks are too stupid to see past my shortcomings then that's on them. I won't feed into it anymore. There's too much growth to be accomplished. Someone saw my true beauty and informed me that I was selling my soul when I sit and allow others to label me unfairly. It was as though my eyes opened and I saw the world for the first time. I can smile because I have released all that yesterday tried to impose on me. I can't help it I love hard. It's just my way, but I refuse to give that love to one who only desires to punish and condemn me. I do know who I am, and I will walk in that knowledge and allow that to define me, not old shit that just doesn't matter anymore.

Knowing

Knowing is half the battle, I've heard so many times. So what's the other half? Figuring out how to break down that which you know, and make it fit with that which you wish you didn't know. Last night she walks in, says Mama, I love you, here's a few dollars for ya. Threw a couple of 20's on the table and proceeded to get clothing from her room. So quickly, she came, she smiled and then she was gone again. Damn I miss that girl. The things I don't know often make me wonder if I have in some way failed, cause I have an unsteady feeling in my spirit that comes up at the most unusual times. I know she knows I love her, and yes she feels safe, but she can't seem nor does she want to be close to me, at least not physically close. I've asked myself why, and have tried to put it in perspective that she's almost an adult now, already living her own life and doing her own thing. Whatever that is. Much like someone said to me all those years ago, it wasn't supposed to be like this, but I would never tell her anything other than I'm proud of her and know she's gonna make a success out of her life. Still sometimes just knowing that she's not a baby anymore is real tough to handle.