Poet Mode: Within

WITHIN

The us we put into the world is not the us within
If you look deep into my heart you will see me for who I am
I’m a can do woman – ready, willing and able
I’m a fearless, take no shit sistah – try me if you wanna
I’m a curvy delight – a tease or a tigress, depending on my mood
I’m a hugging, kissing healer – telling you everything will be just fine

I’m a soft, fragile being – needing to be loved
I get a yearning feeling – of wanting to feel needed
I’m sometimes afraid – of not being heard
I feel a little unconfident – about the sway of my hips
I’m often too real – proclaiming when shit is fucked up
I’m most terrified – of not being perceived as a fearless, take-no-shit kind of sistah

I am the future colored by the pasts of those who came before,
Bred by a lineage of underground railroad and lynching survivors and . . .
running through the woods gripping my child and my bible after . . .
toiling in a field for endless days and nights and . . .
then finally being granted substandard American rights


BUT I DIGRESS, let me get back to this.

The us we put into the world is not the us within
If you looked into my heart, you’d see where love begins
Love extends beyond sight, and visual assumptions
I appear to be a strong black sistah walking strong with gumption
But what I am is a person with fears the same as you
And a desire to be loved as human, female, strong, soft, black, and beautiful

Poet Mode: No Title (from 1995)

Wild ride through the streets of DC
Two fatalities , both of them teens
The victims, the assailants, all of them my brothers
No medicine created to heal the hearts of mothers
Corner light posts lined with bears in RIP
Blood stains on the sidewalk washed away by Remy
Commemorated on T-shirts, memorialized on stone
Memories of children who never made it home
All of us affected, everyone at risk
Of premature entry into next weeks obits
What the fuck is going on, I mean really, what the fuck
I watch the morning crime reports thinking damn shits really fucked up
Mommas putting their babies out of cars on 495
20 year olds on crack, Niggas is loosing they minds
Car thefts, baby deaths, mourning every where I turn
Life is hell, so what the hell, I guess they ain’t afraid to burn
And these are the times when we take prayer out of schools
We don’t renew the DC gun ban and elect a government of fools

Poet Mode: Tears

My Tears are falling like Niagara Falls
Raining down to my chin like a thunderstorm, lightening and all
Deep thought is a mallet pounding into my head turning my eyes, ears, nose and chin a flaming red with fiery
And like Niagara Falls, this natural evolutionary expression of my rage can not be contained by human hands or words
Because at this point, there is no point

I can’t believe it has progressed to this

As hard as I try to suppress this fluid energy, they flow with triple the force and determination
No tissue or napkin or shirt cuff can conceal my emotions
They are written all over my face, painted with a salt tipped pen from the inside out
My feelings have been turned upside down for the world to see
And what do I do now
Smile
Wipe my eyes, pretend like I’m ok
Like puffy eyes, red and tear stained cheeks are normal, maybe even trendy in 2005

As much as I try to calm my face in cold water, the swelling of my most inner fears show through my glazed over, red tinged eyes
The eyes tell it all you know
And right now I wish that the people rubbing my back and saying ‘baby, what’s the matter’ could hear them yelling LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE BEFORE I START CRYING . . . AGAIN

6/27/2005

Poet Mode: Happy

HAPPY
June 6, 2007

I dream of a house on a hill
Where a moment in time stands still
Where a smile lasts a lifetime and
Laughter lasts forever

I live in a house on a row
Where a big weed grows and grows
Where an argument lasts a week and
The sting disappears never

I dream of a moment in time
Where it finally becomes mine
Where I feel it embrace my heart and
Hold me in everlasting

I live today where I am
Where reality must be a sham
Where living is in 3rd person and
Loving is . . . .

I dream of a glow
Where whoever looks at you knows
Where it pours from your soul and
Loving is . . . .

I live in hope of a dream

Happy

Poet Mode: F This

Fuck this shit, it ain’t about love
It aint at all what fairytales speak of
It aint all smiles and loving gazes
Not like the shit in Harlequin’s pages
This ain’t the life I signed up for
This can’t be my realty, I need much more

Like bed breaking sex and talks all night
And personal smiles cause shit feels right
Like fuck the movies, let’s stay home
Cause we got a fairy tale of our own
Like getting fucked up and chillin and shit
And ignoring the world, this is the shit
Like, fuck all other niggas, this is the shit
Like damn that feels good, this is the ShiiiiiiiiiT

Then back to reality, cause this is some shit

I mean, fuck it, this is my shit
So, I’ll just live with it
Cause you know, it ain’t all that bad
I don’t spend every waking moment sad
I don’t cry my eyes out each and every night
I don’t always try to get attention by picking a fight
I don’t always feel alone . . .
I don’t always feel . . . alone
I don’t feel . . .
. . . always alone
I . . . feel always alone
Damn, this is some shit.

What I'd Rather Be Doing . . .

Currently I'm employed as a Database Manager, below I have listed a few random things that I'd rather spend 8 (and more) hours of my day doing . . .

Rehabbing Furniture:
I often search through Craigslist to see what I can find in the way of something unique and well made. I often view postings for furniture and imagine myself purchasing a good piece for cheap, working hard but happy to rehab the piece and either using myself or reselling at a profit. This piece from 1940'50's almost lunged out of the screen at me as it seemed like a good piece to start with.












Doing Hair . . .
My grandmother and great-grand were both cosmetologists. I think it's in the blood.

Styling People . . .
I love picking out looks for my friends that they would have never considered. Often, I will describe a style inspiration or look that I'm going for and people don't get. But once they see, they love it. I love getting people to think out of the box when it comes to fashion - I hate plain and drab (even though it's my usual work uniform cause I'm a very busy mom and it's easy, lol).



Nothing . . .
I am very professionally ambitious and motivated, however the thought sometimes crosses my mind "what if I didn't have to be". I would wake up, get the kids off to school, take my time reading the paper and sipping my grande Cafe Americano, then head off to the gym, do some shopping, come home, do the night routine and then cap off my day with a relaxing bubble bath and glass of wine. Don't get me wrong, I know there is still work involved in all of this and I would undoubtedly be involved in many things, but it just wouldn't be the 'yes mahsta, whatever you want so I can get that check mahsta' kind of work. You feel me!

Reunion

I love the creative juice that www.shopstyle.com gets flowing within me. I could waste so much time looking thru the clothes and creating looks on this site. Alas, it was fellow blogger Trini Orisha Gyal, and her upcoming class reunion, that inspired this look. To me, this look says 'I am a classy lady, I am a professional women, I am a mom on the go, I can not be stopped - and I look fly too!'


I'm still working on this look - It's called B-Day!