i fell in love with the thought of you
lived among the pauses
inhaled during commas
released after periods

i caught the kiss you blew my way
felt it warm my cheek
then gently removed it
placed it a glass box
with crystal ribbons
added it to my curio cabinet
of curiousities
right next to your pillow talk
and corner of your heart
kept in a wooden box
you had diligently carved
for its safekeeping

locked tight without a key
i never had the answer
but i feel it still sometimes
when my mind is quiet
sweet nothings escape
through intended pinholes
lapping at my earlobes
until childish giggles emerge from my throat

beckoning purity to return to its origin

the two dance across my soft curves

spinning 'round and 'round

only to be carried lovingly

back through iron keyholes

where the solid sound of a beat could be heard

We All Want To Feel Someone Is Listening

he is already a man beyond his years
though his baby face embraces his young age
of 14
he fights desperately not to become yet another statistic
i pray statistics don't find him
i also pray he will one day catch the first thing smoking
out of there,
like the one he watches daily cross his side of town
still he will never forget his roots
will one day return to plant seeds
this i pray
he sits at the end of a long table
casually engaging in conversations around him
he knows without a doubt he is more than his peers
but still alone
because he might as well been talking in the wind
but the wind carried his words to my ears
played sweet melodies across my earlobes
before i threw open the windows to my mind
for he is a poet
struggling with this world he will have to fight daily
just because he was born a beautiful black child
just because his favorite artist at this age is Thelonious Monk
just because he carries a pen, a folder with dog-eared looseleaf paper,
and all of his written work with him everywhere he goes
just because he said to me slightly above a whisper,
"I really appreciate your work, its hard out here for a black man like myself..."
he held his head down...
"and if you haven't noticed, no one really wants to listen to me"
i fought back tears,
the way he looked at me convinced me he saw them anyway
"baby, i do. i hear you. you matter more than you will ever know. don't ever stop writing. i will keep your words within my mind for safekeeping...until we meet again."
he cocked his head to the side, and smiled
we were instantly connected through time
held conversations in ancient languages without a word spoken
recited poetry written with charcoal tipped sticks on cavern walls
between a smile and an understanding
he watched me closely as i left
and i watched him sit a lil straighter
he pulled his pen out from behind his ear
began to write again
as if his life depended on it.
...i guess it does

i told a tree outside...
" you better bow when he walks by"

the eyes are the windows to the soul, they say
so i turn my gaze from God
and look into the eyes of heaven
on the brink of hell
darker than the secrets left behind

nightmares cast shadows on walls
into corners of memories
warrior tendencies fall upon deaf ears
but i still see
just below your surface
past the self mutilations
and keloid scars

marks left behind for someone
anyone
to find you
to shout to the world
I AM HERE
but evil lurks still
in backs of throats
stealing life before words
ever spoken

through cracked mirrors
and broken sillouettes
shards of yesterday
embed deep within
squeeze any part
to splinter true reflections

eyes cannot hide
what the tongue attempts to do
tear soaked carpets because
pillows refuse to hold another drop
refuses to be held over your face
refuses to cut off life

so breathe

breathe again

now once more

let the heat burn
feel what its like
to stand on the brink of hell
flames tickling your toes
stare into the demon's eyes
inhale the brimstone
remember
and smile...

i will still search for you
digging my fingers into your transperancy
past atrophying muscle
and diseased heart chambers
scratching the blackness behind your eyes
with chipped nails

just so you can see what i see
and simply love it enough
to love yourself again

Most Days It Feels Real Good

Flava In Your Ear...yeah yeah baby, we won. Ma and Pops finally got to see me in action. smile. they're was some really great work up on that stage. the love from the Austin Slam Team has been beautiful and very supportive. feels like one team, not 2. quite impressed with Chucky from Ft. Worth, he is one of those poet's who simply just defies logic! Chris Lee, my baby's daddy :), can just rip your heart out sometimes, and my baby Ebony...do the damn thang girl.
Congratulations Jono for winning the Make It Wet Spit Fest! The next Spit Fest is in October, if you haven't been to one yet check it out, 'cause it is always a hot show/slam. Love should be very proud of her baby. it all starts with a dream right? BFran's Poetic House Party once again was INSANE!
We hadn't had one in a minute, and it was long overdue, but worth the wait for sure. Let's see....57 DIFFERENT POETS graced his living room carpet, Saturday night...not including repeat poets. the energy is always good in his house, and it shows. needless to say the poetry finally tapered off around 4:30 am Sunday morning, but of course the fun still ensued. about 20 poets found a spot to rest there heads, but uh no!! thanks to the lovely boys (and nicole) from Dallas!! it was like lil kids who couldn't go to sleep, so they wouldn't let anyone else sleep either...too funny, and we laughed so hard most of the morning...poor Element, still don't think he can breathe right!

sidenote: we have lost one of our great venues here down south. Free Verse Fridays @ the Continental Cafe in SA...the mic fell forever silent friday night.

Our beloved Tweetie (and his brisket) was noticeably absent from the house party, please send prayers his way even if you don't know him personally.

Every party, there has always been that one memorable moment. most times its some drunk ass peeing in a chair, getting thrown into an oven (seriously), but this time it was a connection of love...a new additon to our neo soul family. her name is Rockie. i think i have a bit of a crush on her.(geez) smile. besides her obvious physical beauty, she is beauty personified inside as well, and a passionate true poet. we first met her in Corpus (also a member of their team). She has been yearning for a connection with her own...seems it is lacking in Corpus...searching for a place to call home and the need for 'family'...not to say she doesn't have it with her team...but you know. what she experienced over the weekend was overwhelming for her--in a good way.
the need for connection and identity is a such a deep seeded craving. understood.
we got ya baby, we got ya!
like i said...most days...like saturday...it feels real good
and those are the days i try to remember the most.

screams heard in the forethought
of a splintered mind
a crescendo of echoes
fade into the afterthought
tucked
again
neatly away
within corners of a smile
the edges becoming heavy
so grandmother comes at night
collecting diamonds left on pillows
threading tear ducts close
a sweet whisper finding its way
through dream catchers
"don't forget where you come from"
--------------
i wrote this thinking of my grandmother, which i do frequently...but moreso this time of year since her birthday is coming up. its been awhile since she has been physically gone from this world...but i know she is always with me...reminding me...still teaching me.
i know she is proud of what i am doing now
she was a helluva woman
wish ya could of met her

it felt really good having my babygirl with me last night at Neo...though far from being a baby, she is MY baby. We butt heads a lot, but she will always be my daughter and i will always be her mother. she decided life would be better not living with her immediate family, so she has ventured out into the real world. i worry about her constantly, but know she must find out on her own. she misses home, though not ready for home rules. i miss her more than she knows. she finally got a job. no school yet, but said she will try to go back to Job corps in the fall. i'm crossing my fingers. my babygirl, always been head strong. i just want the best for her, but realize sadly i can't do that for her...she has to see what's best for herself. *sigh*

i can be so oversensitive to my environment at times. whether its people, feelings, my surroundings, or the 'other' world speaking to me wanting to be seen/heard.
i have always been this way.
sometimes it is quite helpful...has saved my life on more than one occassion...paying attention to the signs and the voices. i have seen things happen before it comes to be, and have seen things from the past thru inanimate objects. i don't say lifeless objects because my belief is everything has a soul, and carries imprints of life with it through time.
one reason i have a fascination with thrift and antique stores. but sometimes the stories are too much and i must leave. dang i sound really wierd now that i'm rereading this...so be it...what else is new. lol
i remember my father asking me at a very young age, like 6 or 7, about people he came in contact with and what i thought...i mean at that age all i knew was they are nice daddy or they are bad daddy. and he would listen to me.
my grandmother and great grandmother on my father's side had the same intuition, and my mother was once a practicing witch (sometimes she is still a witch, but under different context lol)
i like this side of me, and i want to explore more of it...fine tune it per say. i believe this 6th sense resides in us all, its just whether or not we choose to listen.
its my oversensitivity to people that drives me nuts! i have got to work on it, and not take things so personally. have to come to grips with sometimes people just don't like you for no reason at all...not fair, but it is what it is...and i have got to be cool with that. stop trying to bend over backwards to please and be likeable.(feels like highschool bs anyway- trying to befriend all the bullies) realize they are just as fucked up as you are, and the only person i can control is myself right, angel?
right.
working on trusting that first feeling.
working on listening to the voice.
working on pleasing me

When i don't talk to Him often or stay on the path He has blessed me with, He will lovingly remind me, "Child, where ya been? Come to me not only in the bad times, but good times, too."
thank you
I recently went to a Yolanda Adams' concert which in itself was a shower of blessings, but was reminded of what God truly KEEPS US FROM.
We keep Him busy fo sho!
One point emphasized was if you really want to see His power...ask Him to show you the true nature of people around you, but be ready for what He will reveal to you. be ready for all the pain and ugliness.
I want to throw my rose colored glasses back on and return to my psuedo naivete.
He will even show you what He keeps you from in your OWN family.
hey i asked for it...
so what now?
skin grows a lil thicker
i still will love hard
just love my self harder
still believe the best in people
and hope people see the best in me as well
don't forget what i am here for
don't forget who REALLY IS IN CONTROL
and really believe the words "no weapon formed against me shall prosper"
----------------
we have a night off from practice. yeah! we have been working really hard!
everyone will actually be home this evening at a descent hour, which means i can work some of my magic in the kitchen for a change.
i love to cook, even more so for others.
yes, i am a pleaser ..both a good thing and my downfall. oh well

GO SEE IT!!

Yeah, family time....forgot what that was for a minute
Saw Pirates Of The Carribean last night...like WOW!!
be prepared for movie bootie though, its approx. 2 1/2 hours long...
rarely does a sequel superceed the original, this one won the platinum medal hands down
down side: 2 large drinks $8.50...remind me next time to bring a big purse like a use to!

a bucket of peanuts, and male bonding has never been funnier...sorry delicate flower (with thorns), don't be too mad...but they were cute.

Sometimes....

...I wish i wasn't a poet
...I don't want to feel a damn thing
...I deserve a bad day without fucking smiling thru it all
...I wish i was a bird. something really big. I would fly over you and shit in your hair and claw your beautiful eyes out with my talons. I would tear away at your flesh while you watched, but quickly spit your heart out for it tastes like poison.
...it must be said
...i say nothing at all
...i need my Grandma back, but my arms aren't long enough nor my wings strong enough
...i want to laugh til it hurts again
...i want to cry but i can't
...i cry because i no longer laugh
...i laugh to keep from crying
...i just don't make sense
...its okay
...most days its not
...like today, i need you
...i wish i didn't want u so much
...people think they know who i'm talking about
...let them think what they want
...i just don't give a damn
...like today, this is one of those days
...i just need to hide under the covers
...like now...i'm going back to bed

i roll the liquidness of your insanity
between my thumb and forefinger
watch it split
morph
come together again
like mercury drops
play with it
in the palms of my hands
feel it race across life lines
reconnect jagged lines
a bit more

your colors change often
never staying in the rainbows for long
always returning to black
having absorbed so much
there is no room
for any other shade
except for grey
and even that
is much too bright for you

i glide you
along the edges
of my hands
across fingertips
creating trails
leading to nowhere
before i throw your lucidity high
up in the air

for a moment
you had wings
for a moment
thought you would finally fly

soon felt yourself free falling
through non-existant sanity
even the ground pulled back
not wanting to feel your feet

so i caught you

on the tip of my tongue
savored you for a moment
as you eased between my lips
the warmth inside
began to meltaway the darkness

thought i heard you laughing
as you slid slowly
down my throat
for you knew
it was safer there
among the flowers
you once planted

Not Even Tide Can Wash Away Your Dirty Lil Secret

Funny what can be found in pockets while doing the laundry.....

i tried last night to love you, but my heart never showed up. silence hung heavy, like a rain soaked wool sweater draped across our shoulders. eyes never meeting. fork. spoon. food looks good. i want to be somewhere else. wonder what the kids are doing? salt shaker. our yesteryears hung its head in shame. we have become what we said we never would be-strangers. or is it we are just continuing what we have always been-safe obligations? i chose this. i know this. taken my responsibility for this. tired of trying for this. no longer want this.
but...
2 pairs of young eyes watch me. closely. very protective of their patriarchial warrior. i understand. 'cause i once was too. they do not know of his fall from grace, playing with goddesses not his own. daily, i sweep the truth under worn rugs matching the decor in our home. they see only momma's tarnished wings trying to fly from her guilded cage. their false paradise. i try to keep the rain away. push back clouds with lies. create rainbows within my hair. and sunshines within my smiles. sorta like the ones posted on the fridge. but i know you two are smarter than that...i promise this time to do better in your eyes...even if it means worshipping your golden calf.

i lay upon a bed of fear
under stars of forgiveness
watching dreams fade away
on tails of comets
smoke curls from my lips
dancing and twirling
like a ballerina on air
before fading into ethers
of what was
i draw in the air quickly
just to keep her dancing
there will be no encore tonight

refusing to let them fall

held back too long

tears start to ebb
from under toenails
look closely
through transparent skin
which has done well
in chameleon ways

i continue the dance
of yesterday
of today
right into tomorrow
desperately searching
for a copper penny
to place atop destiny's arm
of my life's record
so i can
so i can
so i can
sing a new song