Friday, December 26, 2008

poem 16/30: announcement (haiku #3)

"i love you" is not
a magic phrase to get legs
open. try again.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

poem 15/30: little crimson waves

"you know you can't get it back"
her mother's words echoed in the back of her mind
playing like an ironic soundtrack
no time for mother's wisdom
she must focus
he smiles above her
"you sure you're ready?"
she isn't, really
but his sincerity in asking
brushing the stray hairs from her face
looking directly into her eyes
makes her more ready than ever
a slow nod serves as her green light
she holds her breath to prepare
stories told to her about searing pain the first time
made her apprehensive
he assured her that he would go slow
the bass in his voice makes her thighs quiver
or was it nerves?
closed her eyes while he guided his hands over her untouched, inexperienced body
sigh of relief escapes her lips as she watched him reach for protection
each step further makes her heart pound harder
a small whimper escapes her throat
she's parted for the first time
the only thing that was hers now belongs to someone else
with each thrust making her more and more a woman
in a little girl's body
no need to regret anything
mommy already said she can't get it back.

wow! sorry, guys.

Let me first start this post by apologizing. I've been M.I.A. for a little over a while now (thanks for reminding me, Riv (o:); neglecting to comment on your posts and not even updating my own. Just to explain some of what's been going on, my best friend lost her grandmother a few days ago, a young girl I mentor lost her grandmother to cancer, after losing her father earlier this year to the same illness; and my aunt passed away last Tuesday. Not to mention the fact that I had two performances last weekend in D.C., my aunt's funeral to drum for this past Monday, and a show later that evening. Very hectic time for me and close ones around me, so this blog has been low on my priorities list. So, I apologize once again. But...I'm here to play a good game of catch up!

I haven't been posting my poetry for 30/30, but it's up to date in my journal, so what I plan to do here is go back to the last one I've posted and pick up from there. That means the poems will be posted on the days they were written (ex: poem #3/30 was written on 12/13, etc.). You'll have to go back and check them out, but I'll do us all a favor and post links to each one on this blog, since this is the most updated so far.

I won't be in town for New Years; taking a vacation with the family. I'll post pictures of where I am when I come back. But, this also means that I won't be able to finish my last few poems for my 30/30...ha! I've been thinking ahead. I kind of cheated (it's for you guys!) and wrote my last three poems; I'll type them here and they'll post on the dates they were written for. Thanks, Blogger, for that lovely "post date and time" option.

With all this said, I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays--whatever it is you celebrate--and enjoying your wrap-up of 2008. Personally, it was a little rough toward the end, but I made it through alive and in good 2009 must be the shit. LOL. Again, I won't be here on New Years (Busboys and Poets, Riv; damn you!) so I'll say Happy New Years now. Enjoy the poetry, and I'll see you all in '09!


here are the links for poems 4-14. enjoy.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

poem 14/30: another poem about you

haven't known you long
but i can write about you as if i've known you forever
you've been walking along the path of my future
waiting to meet me
it's almost as if you watched me go through pain
confusion and hurt
understood those temporaries
and did exactly the opposite
i requested one thing from you
in return you gave me the world
your world.
kisses dance on my lips
making mental soundtracks to fit every moment we've spent together
even the cheesy moments get honorable mentions
"you miss me?"
"baby, i miss you when i blink and you're right in front of me."
levels of corny only we know
serve as laugh tracks
set to cue during the dramatic/traumatic scenes
break the uncomfortable silence
things to look back on, only to look forward
i now quench for those moments
bring back the normalcy
my appetite for you is insatiable
and it's because you make it so
giving me your all
one piece at a time
leaving me something to look back and cherish
and once again
look forward to.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

poem 13/30: is it a crime?

if she could just steal some more of his time
"I know I can make him mine"
laid out a plan
walk is more seductive
speech sexy, slow
all for a man she doesn't know
trained herself to go with the flow
common sense and dignity are void and fargone
one night stand?
she could settle for that
because she knows he'll be back
just one chance is all she needs
get him hooked, reel him in
but little does she know, he won't be back again
that sparkle on his fourth finger, left hand indicates hurt to come
reality will set just as quickly as the sun
and just as sure as she is about having him after one night
he's just as sure that he's going home to his wife.

Monday, December 22, 2008

poem 12/30: big words (haiku#2)

get my attention
by using words with more than
just two syllables.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

poem 11/30: shorty

her short skirts
tight jeans
cleavage broadcasting shirts
loud moth
suggestive eyes
swaying hips
and "fuck me" pumps
do not necessarily or literally imply just that
her actions may not be an invitation
but a cry for help.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

poem 10/30: heart.beat.

a year and a half into life
you struck into my heart
from daddy's hands to my ears
we've become inseperable
my way of life and my signature
who I am
i can say anything through you
each note vibrating through chakras
reinforce the heartbeat
you flow through me then reach the hearts of others
remind them of who they are
and if i stop playing, i am no longer myself
and if you stop, the world will cease to breathe
you represent a vital organ
and while i march to my own tune
root notes always lead me back to you
dancing on polyrhythms like blood flowing through veins
some hear you and are forever changed
what's funny are the people who claim they've never seen or heard of you
or closed minds who say you're for one kind of people
but all they need to do
is unlock the furthest recesses of their mind
and they will find you
watered down through hiphop and popular music
but those who truly know you
hear you in the shortest of songs
cherish you
like the very air we breathe
and feel you
like the very stick striking the head
feeling every single drop of blood flowing through the heart.

Friday, December 19, 2008

poem 9/30: en vogue (haiku)

just because you switched
up your game does not mean that
you will get the goods.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

poem 8/30: dreams of Paris

God forbid the day I meet you is at your funeral
heard your name only one handful of times
pieced together my own vision of you
army man with a country accent
and even though you hate him, i'm sure you look like daddy
but you could be none of those things
what i am sure of
is the fact that we're blood
my oldest brother
product of a rolling stone and a young mind looking for affection in the wrong places
now a known unknown
find myself wondering if i have any nieces and nephews
living in the same city as me
missing out on play fights
real fights
and "boy" talks
you were supposed to teach me what you know about the birds and the bees
tease me when i peaked puberty
be the threatening looming presence at the seeing off of my first prom
but your mother planted a seed
and you nursed it on your own
hatred for father spawned your eventual disappearance
it is I who wants to know you
I am a product as well
not the problem
do not run from me.
there's still time
be the threatening looming presence to the man I want to marry
give the piggyback rides you owe me to your future niece and nephew
be my blood
all i need is an introduction
at least a genuine mental picture
curious to see who you look like
whose habits you've picked up
lefty or righty
blue or white collar
so many things to learn about someone who should be here
my brother
a complete stranger.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

poem 7/30: bars

i barely remember your voice
but i do remember
thick plated bullet proof glass
baritone notes busting through static filled phones
mommy just wants to hug you
wrinkles in her forehead displaying her distaste in this place
but her children need to know their blood
uncle was always in high spirits
despite the circumstances
victim of "wrong place, wrong time"
beautiful mind confined to an 8X8 cell
no windows to feed you light
designed to break your spirit
but in my young age, I already admired your strength
i was only 7, jabari was three
you loved us like you made us
told mommy not to be so hard
encouraged my banging on tables, pots and pans
critiqued my poetry, told me to keep writing
you passed your passions through the bars to us
to keep yourself alive
never got out when you were supposed to
mommy whispered to daddy while at home
you were fighting everyday
self defense
so security at its maximum was your destination
gave all of yourself to us
like you knew you were leaving soon
and when you came home, you were finally Freed a couple of years later
Jabari's too young to remember your funeral
but let mommy tell it
he acts just like you
evidence that you're still here
and i keep writing
for you, beyond the bars.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

poem 6/30: we real cool '08.

we pop shit. we
shoot quick. we
need love. we
worship drugs. we
die for fame. we
don't change. we
stay the same. we've
lost our names.
btw: Gwendolyn Brooks? Dope.

Monday, December 15, 2008

poem 5/30: untitled

i tried to write you a poem
but the words you need to hear will never make it to paper
told myself i'd just tell you later
but thoughts run wild; i watch my emotions fade like vapors
i tried to give you the world
put my life and love on a silver platter
spun the moon and stars on the tips of my fingers
showing you and the universe my devtion
only to trip and fall into your abysmal past
feeling a void because i gave you my world
but i stepped into yours and someone else was already there
i gave you my essence
i gave you me.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

poem 4/30: family reunion

"You know Man's locked up"
Laughed at the irony of that statement
Man never became a man
Came to that fork in the road and turned back when he decided to touch her with his man-child hands
Took advantage of her admiration for him
Little tomboy got a fave big cousin
Things appeared to be all good, but really wasn't
Tainting her innocence with his ignorance
He didn't know any better
Turning her childhood games into future backstories for therapy sessions
She never wants to play "house" again
Introduced her to things she shouldn't know about
Until she begins to question them on her own
Grown up roles, but neither of them is grown
Pissed off every time she went to his house to see his mother wasn't home
Didn't know what this thing was
But knew what your aim was
Showing her that she's already mentally too much for you
Man's in a Man's body
With a boy's frame of mind
She feels sorry for him
Nearly a grown ass man
Taking something he should get from his future girlfriend
Fuck buddy
From a little girl's forced touch
Then get around the family and pretend you loved her so much...
too much.
She wouldn't eat at family cookouts
One look from him would have grilled food hitting hot pavement
Reminding her of that pissy ass basement
Something she's done hard to repress
But hearing his name today reopened that hole in her chest
All she can do is continue to live
And over time find the will to forgive
She just prays no breakdown when she sees your face
And hopes his memory won't smudge out her future husband's place
Such a stain on her life she wishes to leave in the past
" know Man's out now..."
And she just laughs.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

poem 3/30: uninvited.

and he let her in
no promise of future meetings made
no strings--the way he likes
knew what
or who
he was getting into
her thick thighs and wide hips calling to be touched
he happily obliged
he infiltrated
strangers no longer so
sharing lust, sweat
never too much
she understands the unwritten rule
so when he gets right up, it's second nature to keep her cool
keeps a crooked smile
for while it was both worth their while
his life is forever changed
a friendly fuck with a face but no name
some script just flipped
but who's the master of the game?
filled her with his seed, but she's still empty
and he may feel accomplished
another day, another conquest
...he is simply a target
a pawn in the wrath of a woman scorned
carrying the burden of life and too many children unborn
no one knows her story
but those who come in contact quickly become chapters
her center touched before before
playing the same game
different day, different name
once sacred place turned into stomping ground for hungry egos
sweet secretions have become venomous
stinging the member of the members of her not so exclusive club
and he let her in.


Friday, December 12, 2008

poem 2/30; the acrostic: elementary contradictory.

He whispered the "perfect" words, and with his hands
Used the right touch
Read her mind with his body and became her one. Now,
Tattered dignity and memories remain in the wake of his fabricated love.

the "Boss" has me lost.

First thing's first:
I probably should've posted something about this album a little earlier, but it's really never too late. I deem it a classic. In my opinion, he makes up greatly for Release Therapy, which wasn't all that great. Lyricism is a plus on Theater, and of course you can expect some made-for-the-club hits, i.e. "One More Drink" feat. Mr. Autotunes himself, T-Pain.

Now, I'm okay with having featured artists on your album, but I believe that (a) they should not come with a better verse than you (Em's first verse; "Renegade" ring a bell?), but at the same time they should (b) not have a completely garbage verse, either. Everyone's favorite Boss/Correctional Officer totally misses both marks on Luda's track "Southern Gangsta". It was already my least favorite track on the album to begin with, but Rick Ross certifies it roadkill with this opening line:

"I got a letter from the government the other day//I opened it, read it//It said we were hustlers..."
No, I have not altered his line for my own sake. Dude really said that.WTF? What the hell are you talking about? I would post the song, but I'd rather not taint my post with his wackness. =/ Check out imeem and get one of the imeem wizards to pull the song up for you.
If anyone understands what he's talking about and wouldn't mind breaking it down to me, please don't hesitate to drop me a comment.
Have your own picks for wackest lines/verses? Post them here.

btw: expect 2/30 later in the day.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

And so it begins: Poem 1/30

I've decided to jump right in and start this 30/30. I wanted to further challenge my intellect by restricting myself to a theme (maybe?), but I think I'll just freewrite and up the ante on my next go round. Yes, I plan on doing this again. Talk about mental calisthenics?! If you're one of those people that gets told to "write it down" a lot, you should definitely try this out. It doesn't necessarily have to be poetry; are the rules really set in stone? Are there rules at all?
I've procrastinated enough. Here we go...

Who Will Tell Them?

that long before they were a thought in mommy and daddy's eyes
we made the Earth spin with a snap of our fingers
spun the stars from our black hands into a black sky
we are He who created above and below
we are the In Between
who will tell them
that we mastered the sciences
built pyramids from sand
the secrets of mathematics ingrained in our lands
all fell at our feet to learn what we know
multi dimensional spiritual beings with no limit to our growth
who will tell them
the black man to run the white house is only one small piece of our puzzle
one minute result of the constant struggle
surviving bondage like no other people
great leaders shot down because they preached we're all equal
who will tell them
that the whole world fears us
taking ownership of what we taught them
erased from all history books; even our potential is too powerful
mind is the rarest of gems
producing thoughts and ideas more precious than time itself
who will tell them we've been bred to be afraid of ourselves
the three fifths mentality ringing louder than freedom's bell
turned us into a word to bring us down
but your mind is too sharp; watch you turn it around
who will tell them their education is doomed for a reason
facts hidden because tapping into yourself is taboo; forbidden
tell them they have to find it on their on, awaken the warrior inside that's been sleeping too long
who will tell him that he does not have to be another statistic
that there really are more of you in college than there are in prison
tell him that he is the 2nd time Jesus has Risen
tell him men who looked like him once ran empires
mental will always grow too strong, so just for him they build jails
they don't have to be sport figures or rappers, fashion designers or actors
possibilities are endless because we birthed them
tell him his blood is of the first biologist and heart surgeon
who will tell her
that "video ho" is not her predestined titled
that what's in her will someday make her someone's idol
tell her that she is designed after Mother Earth
nurturing the world before her own birth
tell her that the tv is not a mirror
she is the creation that spawned beauty itself
but media butchers her image, take advantage of her wealth
tell her that her body is built as is for a reason
that behind her eyes lies the ability to change the very seasons
tell them
they are not only descendants but the infinite coming of greatness
it is more than our style that gives people reason to hate us
that there is no logic or honor in holding their heads down
God spoke you here, and on your head He placed a crown
tell them when they are called other than the name they were given
that person is hurting the very world that they live in
thell them they shouldnt be afraid to let anyone know who they are
their ancestor's determination brought them this far
tell them that even their pigment is a wonder
the thing that divides us all, is what also brings us back to one
black and brown skin mimicking our close relationship with the Sun
tell them not to retaliate with more hate
there's no need to bother
for them hating us is like a child hating his Father
tell them that they are Shaka, Tut, Nefitiri, Martin, Malcolm, Angela, Angelou, Biko, Selassia, Kuti, Garvey, Makeba, Huey, Cleaver, Hughes, Assata, Giovanni, Pryor, Mac, Hayes, Obama, Mother Moore, Cosby, Cochran, Ashe, Robinson, Davis, Jr., Poitier, Pittman, Parks, Till, Evers...
their history goes deeper than that of the deepest wells
tell them.
but first, we must once again tell ourselves.


Tuesday, December 9, 2008

oh, baltimore pt. 2

Well, I posted a while ago about my city and its horrible violent streak. Looks like we've done it again, and another 14 year old's life has been claimed. Sunday night (12/7), a young man was walking across the street to help a neighbor and was murdered. Someone just walked up on him, said nothing, shot him and walked away. W.T.F.
I need to get out of here.

So, you're telling me...if I go and take some fruit to my neighbor, I may never make it back to my house? Recreation centers closing down left and right, the school system sucks; there's nothing left for us to do but kill eachother. Wait. That's how it's supposed to be, right?

btw: I haven't forgotten about my 30/30, but due to recent events, i.e. life, it will be postponed until...not sure when. I'd like to be anal and actually start on the 1st of a month and continue until the 30th...we'll see. But please believe there will be poetry!

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

30/30, 20/20 and updates; oh my!

For those who enjoyed the holiday last week, stuffing yourself until your pants opened up on their own, great job.

I'm going to try and keep this brief...
Just took a look at my blog and realized that I haven't posted anything...well, a good while. I mean, my blog is titled "Oooh, Hecky Nawl; That Guhl Is Raw." for a reason, and according to the tagline I typed for the description, I'm supposed to be guiding you readers (sans seatbelt) through my random, turbulent, awesomely awesome music-filled life. However, the past few weeks for me? Not enough time in the day, not enough emotions in my mental bank or for my hormones to handle, and ultimately no time to blog unless it was something nonrelated to my stressful life--at the moment. Between work, more work, performances, personal problems and holiday time, something had to be left on the back burner. What's been going on, you ask? Allow me to bring you up to speed:

-Spent some time in Philly with the fam. My cousin is a student at UArts and she had a performance/final to put on, so everyone (check the picture) drove up to see her. I enjoyed the whole show, seeing other students pieces was pretty fun, but her piece stole the show. She really made her sister proud. Filling up half of the theater was pretty hilarious as well, all the chairs marked "Reserved for Wombwork Productions, Inc." LMAO, the families of the other students were livid.

-Thanksgiving was wonderful. Dinner at two houses? I won't complain. Didn't really eat much, but the time for family fellowship is always welcome to me. My best friend's also been in town, so I got a chance to hang out with him; and my cousin finally came home from Frostburg State University for the holiday break.

-Nu World was presented with the opportunity to perform for the Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He came to Baltimore to speak about outreach programs in the city. He was very excited to hear "music from home", as we did our very best rendition of a Miriam Makeba classic; a South African freedom song that literally translates "our mothers prayed, and because they prayed; we're still here, we're still fighting and we'll never give up the struggle for total freedom." Awkward moment: the whole event was held in a Catholic church, so after the choir sang their songs, and we applause. Weird. Very funny man, I swear. He had us (Nu World) cracking up as he practically shat on America, saying things like, "Your country is very funny, yes? What other place can you go where someone drags a man behind a truck, then elects a man of African descent as president?! Amazing!" or "First you have 700 BILLION dollars...then...poof! It's all gone! How?" I enjoyed being in his energy, he's a political icon, and now one more person I can check off of my "People I'd Like to Meet" list. This year alone I performed for the Last Poets, met Amiri Baraka, and now I can say I've performed for Desmond Tutu. Now, if I could just touch the hem of Angela Davis' garment...lmao. She's #1 on the list.

-Got some new specks. Ahhhh, yes, I'm a tad visually impaired. Only a tad, though; I'm not required to wear my glasses all the time, only during long periods at the PC and reading. I think they look pretty neat. The best part about them? F-R-E-E! Yes, I did get up at 6:30AM to make sure I got a free eye exam and free glasses. Free. My favorite word. Ha.

-And finally: Scuba Steve. Wowwwww. We've really been through it since 11/15. I've felt like I've been holding my breath for two and a half weeks, but as of today, everything is okay. Well, not okay; but better than what they've been. We've both got a lot of work to do. I won't go into details about exactly what happened, but I will say that I've matured significantly during this off time. Something from the past (read: before we were together) came back and almost kicked both our asses. Mentally? We were both screwed. A very emotional time for us both. We've even lost a few pounds due to stress. The thought of me having to let him go, and his thoughts of losing me were too much for us to handle. There's that double edged sword I was talking about. This issue was a good bulk of my sort of absence from...well, everything. I pretty much alienated myself from everyone and everything for the first few days, then gradually worked my way back as we tried our best to move along. Scuba and I are basically starting over. *sigh* But...I really believe it's all worth it.

Wow. That was nowhere near brief. LOL, sorry. Last thing, though: I've been promising and promising some poetry for you guys for a while now, and now it's time for me to shit or get off the pot. After doing some brief research in my hometown, I've come to the conclusion that no one has heard of 30 poems in 30 days. However, it won't stop me from doing my own! So after this post, the next blog you see from me will be Day1/Poem1, up until I've reached my 30 days. Thanks to Riv for posting her blog a while back and sparking my interest. Until next time...

btw: for those who have asked or are wondering...yes, the picture at the top of the blog is me. The good ole days... :o)