Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Pop Bottles ... or just smile... Whatever You Choose!




I'm sharing this b/c you all know what I've been through here at my job. It's not fun talking to sick people all day everyday. So on the occasion that someone goes out of their way to thank you - in this place??? its a SHOCK... and you must celebrate it... so pop bottles and check out the note in the picture that I received in the mail today at my job addressed to me :)



YAAAAAAAAAAAY! Praise Jesus! This surely made.my.day!!!!!

Monday, May 4, 2009

Only Made it To Day #29

Day #23

We are nursing a bruised womb
A miscarriage caused by our won hands
The death I died every day
On my own was not enough
Every piece of us had to go
Now I find myself wallowing
In a cold play song
Dancing off beat to Cannon in D
Humming amazing grace
Over Thelonious Monk confused chords
Brutally banging my head on
Base boards to believe it
Tear soaked blood
Bloody with guilt
Guilt torn heart
Heart pumping gasoline
Gasoline soaked hands
Hands gripping neck
Neck, throat, fire
Dying a slow death
Me, you and this baby
Surely you feel these flames
Surely you feel the ooze of this blood
Surely you hear the banging of my head
On these base boards
And the humming of amazing grace
You surely hear those
Thelonious Monk chords
Bangs clangs and tings
Surely you see me dancing off beat
Surely you see me wallowing
Cannon in D
Cold play
Death everyday
Another day of dying
We have killed this child
That was growing in me
That was dying in me
And finally you seem to feel it
This is what death feels like
Welcome


Day #24
In the morning the poems come
In the mourning the poems stop
I have always known what it
Feels like to grieve
But I played and wrestled and
Swam and jumped fences
And fought and knee skinned
And bike fell
And train track skipped
And dog chased
And ran from dogs
And tic tac toe’d
And twi-li-li’d
And kissed th blk boy and the Spanish boy
And convinced the white boy
That jumping back was the best idea
For him because
I’d get the color boy to beat his behind
And hide and seeked
And hide and went and got it
And sang
And dodged
And got sun tanned
And ate ice cream
And chased the ice cream truck
And shot the icre cream man
With a bee bee gun
And loved Sheaunte and hated Dawn
And hated Sheaunte and loved Dawn
And then got hated by Sheaunte and Dawn
While they loved each other
And not me
And tree climbed
And rock skipped
And fire works launched
And got my behind beat everyday
For doing it all without limits
And sometimes w/out permission
Because I didn’t care
I loved life
I loved living
And I knew it would require my life
To get the poems to come in the morning
B/c they always seem to stop in the mourning

Day #25
I have found we young
Poets sing the same songs of
Nikki and Jesus


Day #26
He has weaved the bass clef into my scalp
Unbraided all treble from my hair
Only leaving and amplified ding in my ear
From his cymbals
He symbolizes truth
So he strums gospel tunes
In purple hues
That take away my blues
And jazz pats on his 4 string
Rock sings his 5 string
Church claps his 6 string
Until my eyes are closed
And the hum of his A minor chord
Leads me into the heavens
His song is heavenly
He is the remedy
Neither of us are afraid of
Sounds in the dark
So we keep our eyes closed
And two step together
To the beat
Never knowing where
The music is taking us
Just trusting that its
Taking us there together


Day #27
Sometimes I question the one set of fingerprints theory
I am too much like Emma Jane
Ces yeuz
Le nex
Une bouche
Les Oreilles
I have seen
I have smelt
I have tasted
I have heard
Possibly even touched all of the same things as she

My grandmother recently ahs been quieted by her health
It’s the reason I have so much to say
What she can not say
I will say for her
All of her prayers and “take me to the waters”
Her I know I been changed’s
And her aw naws at bad news
Her mmm mmm mmphs and her I love yous
I will load them all onto my tongue and
Chew them for the rest of my life
Until they permeate from my skin
And become even more of who I am

I will retell her stories and tell the ones she has kept secret
I will rock and moan
Switch and purse my lips
Raise my children and yours
Quote scripture hand on hip
& frequent belts for chastisement

I will be uncontrollable
Bold
Heroic
Unafraid
Vigilant
&brave
And all at the same time I will be none of these things
&I won’t wait to be 85 to be this audacious
It started long ago for me
And it just gets worse from here
Really
I’m speaking quick wit & sharp tongue for both of us
Me and my grand mother
Ces yeux
Le nez
Une bouche
Les Oreilles
But especially our hands
With these fingerprints
That they say aren’t the same
But I hope our impact is

Day #28
I wonder if they think of me
The way I think of them
Catch me in a deep stare
Eyes slightly slanted
Hands on hip in a daze
Pondering and unaware
Concerned only with the things
Of my life
I know what it feels like
To day dream
I know what it feels like to day mare
Watch people
See them eyes empty
Mind racing
I wonder of them
What their days are like
What brings them joy
How often do they experience hell
And selfishly
I wonder if they ever think of me

Day #29
I go to my church
Frequently to hear the word
But I rarely church

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Day 18-22 (Bankhead Bounce Emoticon)

Day #18
Girl with that darn mic
Your panty line was showing
Till you slipped them off


Day #19
I swear to you I am writing this poem
In a bar
w/ live music
strippers
drunk birthday boys
posing as 38 year old men
and Joel Olsteen is currently
preaching a sermon
on sacrifice
on the big screen over the bar
I couldn’t make this up

I can’t say I didn’t ask to live
The kind of life where my
Days aren’t full of monotony

But I’m confident I did not ask for this…
Take me home.


Day #20
If you call my phone
Asking me a dumb question
I will BOOM on you


Day #21
I would love desperately to poem you away
Similar to how I poem’d you to stay
But I swore to God and my new love
That I had written my final love poem to you
I hope they both forgive me
b/c apparently… here I go again


Day #22
He knows how far the east is from the west
From nail pierced hand to nail pierced hand

When is the last time that you died on a cross for me
And even if you did have the audacity to love me that much
When is the last time that you rose from a grave for me

I’m walking away
from this old tainted
Desperate
Dazed
Crazy love
Slowly
But Surely

Slowly
But surely
Crazy love is gone
Dazed love is gone
Desperate
Strange
tainted love
Gone

You are not God
I guess you never said you were
I made you this big
Slowly but surely I am remembering

Friday, April 17, 2009

Day 16 & Day 17

**Note about day 16... I really want to like this poem... and I think in time I will - just a first draft obviously**

Day 16 (April 16, 2009)

As if he couldn't be more latin
his parents named him
Jose Jesus Reymundo Rodriquez
I am not making this up
I had nothing to do with this
he plants flowers
in front of my building
cuts the grass
weeds the yard
fertilizes the lawn
I wonder if he is happy
and I'm glad to stop my wondering
when I see his name tatoo'd on the side
of his trick
I am sure now that he
makes more than me
mambo and salsa swell his tongue
his language is bold and daring
he struggles and misses
many syllables
but he never misses the wild dandelions
that we once thought were beautiful flowers
as children we wondered
how could a yellow petaled plant
be considered a weed
I am confident he agrees
we ppl of color
in our many shades and tones
our hues of blue
our hands full of tingling and feeling
we observe one another intense
mostly in silence
Jose Jesus Reymundo Rodriquez
taken by my shapely hips
and me moved to jealousy by his native words
I wish to know him better
feel as proud of him as i would if he were my brother
know no boundaries or barriers
between black and brown
corn bread and tortilla
swahilli and spanish
Africa and Mexico
Trinidad and Ecuador
I gave birth to him too
I am sure
I walk almost conceited with pride
that he plants the flowers
in front of my building
these bright reds and yellows and greens
remind me of home
we nvr speak
but I always smile at him
nod my head and thank God
that my brown child is giving back to this earth
walk into my house
and water my sweet potatoe plant and my greens
I am making grow in the city
Hey... what can I say?
He get it from his momma

Day 17 (April 17, 2009)
Today I found out where Outtie 5000 derived from
And because of that I will brag to be way more hip hop than you.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

All These Days 9-15

Day#9 (Aprill 9, 2009)
Those guitar strums
are Skate World remnants
strobe lights and fluttered heart beats
I can smell his fear
white boy music doesn't exist
I am as black as black can get
but something about
those guitar strums
and sycopated dings on high hats
reminds me of Skate World
the last skate when
you are 13 years old
and you know your mother
is on her way so this is
his last chance to ask you
to hold hands
this is for the magic a strobe light creates
and for the halelujah of the dark shadow
these lights give at the same time
a moment caught in teh memory of my
13 year old mind
when he saw me
lights flashing and flickering off my
bronzed prepubescent face
and knowingly skated by to
dance with Tanesha instead
Thank goodness for faint lights
and thank goodness for revenge
even if it is 13 years later
cause I hear Tenesha doesn't even like boys anymoer...
I hope when he found out there was a slight strum of guitars
and a strobe light
and a loosely screwed wheel on skates @ Skate World
and a freshly waxed floor
to harden the fall
forcing him to know what it feels like to get your heart broken
to the sound of rock and roll


Day#10 (April 10, 2009)
Blk Grl is my call
I can't save Fifinas life
she must save her own

Day #11 (April 11, 2009)
I figure if it was easy to stop
loving him
then it wasn't
ove in the first place
However... [apparently]
It was real.

Day #12 (April 12, 2009)
I don't need a text
to remind me that the christ
died so I can live

Day#13 (April 13, 2009)
Pardon me white lady
but Ebony is an extremely common name
it is not different or strange or unique or exotic
or any of the above
Stop it.

Day #14 (April 14, 2009)
For some reason
you seem to think
you are in control
but after all these years
I know what it looks like
for a man to treat me right
so if you want to speak to me
in the future
you had better step lightly
and be humble
b/c @ this point
only the kissing of my behind
will get you anywhere
and since the man in my life
treats me just fine
I aint pressed to have no extra
lips pressed against my behind
It might be big enough
for two sets
but that woud be uncouth
and really unnecessary
Boom!

Day #15 (April 15, 2009)
I am a blk grl
I frequent pursed lips
and eye rolls
hands on hips
and right foot slightly extended
patting far frmo attempting
to perpetuate a stereotype
I'm just a blk grl
and I live daily on
(at the bare minimum) 98%
of my blk grl power
Yes. I am a super hero
named at birth EbonyJanice
when I walk you can hear music
gospel, hip hop, jazz, r&b
when I talk it sounds like beat boxing
and loud bass, hand claps and foot stomps
I dream in many languages
b/c I do not know my own
Mostly I speak in unknown tongues
I am confident that I will go to heaven
and still be this audacious
I believe in Forever
and I remember forever too
my spirit is familiar with much
hence the reason for
my frequent pursed lips and
need to BOOM
I have felt both the stings of slavery
and the regard of my royalty
quite the paradox
I am purple and twirling
smiling and dancing
sweet tea drinking and happy
I eat friend chicken and watermellon
b/c they are delicious snacks
not b/c I'm blk
But I am a blk grl
I can do everything
and I make no apologies for this
nappy haired, thick lips, high hips & all
Blk Grl
And obviously I wouldn't trade this for all the
money in the world
and thats the truth [rolls eyes]
Shoot...

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

National Poetry Month Days 5-7

#5
What an audacious monster
of a “man” you must be
To sit back and watch me
Love you for 4 ½ years
Unrestricted-love unreturned
Prior to my deciding
To act like I had a piece of sense
Even if its really just “acting”
And not even real sense
By getting me a man
That actually has some sense
Only to have you finally decide
You do love me
And even now
You still haven’t decided
To accompany your love
With some sense
Or even acting like you have some sense
So I am convinced
That you aren’t human
And I wouldn’t be stretching
Even a bit by calling you a lunatic

#6
Lately:
I really am very similar to the bag of clothes in my bedroom corner marked “soiled” I tend to build up uncontrollable out of nowhere before I find me spilling and busting at the seams wanting cleansing

I pray less lately for others, me, you, Aids victims in Africa, those people in Italy killed in the earthquake, the little girl whose body was found in pieces in a suitcase
I frequent accepting responsibility for the ills that happen around me because I know I personally can request a thing in prayer and it shall be

Peace
Safety
Miraculous Healing
Amen

But lately I am quiet and similar to the bag of clothes in my bedroom corner marked “soiled” my heart is heavy burdened, built up uncontrollable till I’m spilling over and busting at the seams wanting clean//wanting free – I lay prostrate in prayer - fold creases into my hands, knees, eye lids, each piece by piece and promise it won’t take as long next time to come for wash again

#7
Don’t call me no more
My boyfriend is always here
He wants to punch you

Friday, April 3, 2009

National Poetry Month Days 1-3

I've decided to participate in this challenge for poets to write 30 poems a day for 30 days (of April which is National Poetry Month). Even if I dont post these poems everday consecutively I will be writing. Everyday. So far this is what has come: ENJOY!




Poem #1
For Morehouse

I do not disagree with him.
But I do disagree...



Poem #2
Kensington Station Apartments

We are going tomorrow
to the hood
with the full intentions
of changing the lives
of black girls forever
but more likely than not
I will be more changed
than any of teh young black girls
under the sound of my voice
and I think this is how it should be


Poem #3
Dear Customer Service Callers

Dear Keppra&Keppra XR patients, doctors, nurses, pharmacists, etc.
It would be a good idea
for you to behave yourself
because today a pharmacist from
New Jersey worked my nerves
and I put him on hold while I faxed what he needed
then went to the loo-to do-#2