Thursday, February 25, 2010

I'll Rise by Ben Harper (Song)

"I'll Rise"

You may write me down in history
With your bitter twisted lies
You may trod me down in the very dirt
And still like the dust I'll rise
Does my happiness upset you
Why are you best with gloom
Cause I laugh like I've got an oil well
Pumpin' in my living room

So you may shoot me with your words
You may cut me with your eyes
And I'll rise
I'll rise
I'll rise
Out of the shacks of history's shame
Up from a past rooted in pain
I'll rise
I'll rise
I'll rise

Now did you want to see me broken
Bowed head and lowered eyes
Shoulders fallen down like tear drops
Weakened by my soulful cries

Does my confidence upset you
Don't you take it awful hard
Cause I walk like I've got a diamond mine
Breakin up in my front yard

So you may shoot me with your words
You may cut me with your eyes
And I'll rise
I'll rise
I'll rise
Out of the shacks of history's shame
Up from a past rooted in pain
I'll rise
I'll rise
I'll rise

So you may write me down in history
With your bitter twisted lies
You may trod me down in the very dirt
And still like the dust I'll rise

Does my happiness upset you
Why are you best with gloom
Cause I laugh like I've got a goldmine
Diggin' up in my living room

Now you may shoot me with your words
You may cut me with your eyes
And I'll rise
I'll rise
I'll rise
Out of the shacks of history's shame
Up from a past rooted in pain
I'll rise
I'll rise
I'll rise

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

bell hooks

Scribing and writing under the pen name bell hooks, this author, feminist and social activist has more than thirty books published. Her focused is on interlinking race, gender, and class in relation to oppression and domination. I like to consider her the female Cornel West, willing to expand minds, break limits and barriers, creating her own commitment to developing the African American psyche and agenda. Her pen name is adopted from the names of her mother and grandmother. She feels the lowercasing signifies that the substance of the book should be the importance.

Her teaching started in 1976, and since then she has taught as a variety of college and universities including: University of California, Santa Cruz , San Francisco State University, Yale University, Associate Professor of Women’s Studies and American Literature at Oberlin College in Oberlin, Ohio, and as Distinguished Lecturer of English Literature at the City College of New York.

I truly can’t remember the first bell hooks book I got my hands on. Since then, it has been a cycle of her works. Some of my favorites and most valuable reads have been: All About Love, Bone Black, Communion, Killing Rage, Remembered Rapture & Wounds of Passion (for the writer in me!), Rock My Soul, and Killing Rage.

Favorite Quotes:

I thought about how we need to make children feel that there are times in their lives when they need to be alone and quiet and to be able to accept their aloneness.

I will not have my life narrowed down. I will not bow down to somebody else's whim or to someone else's ignorance.

When we drop fear, we can draw nearer to people, we can draw nearer to the earth, we can draw nearer to all the heavenly creatures that surround us.

It's in the act of having to do things that you don't want to that you learn something about moving past the self. Past the ego.


Monday, February 22, 2010

Shine Bright.

You told me once that you used to write. Always trying to say I get my gift from you. Yet it’s puzzling how much you have never read any of my work. Still I know that you can feel the depths of my soul. Something a mother’s touch and intuition just knows. it’s one kinds of job that doesn’t come with instructions on how to maintain your emotions as your children live. As life hits, and as the struggles of your years become ours. I wonder what the thoughts are tracing paths on your mind. Whether this day is something of beauty, or something of fault. Too long have you blamed yourself for our shortcomings, which you fail to see your success. We are all breathing healthy. The years have brought us to treasure each other, and cherish even the arguments. Though we are separated by circumstance, we are unified in divine alignment. I know it burns your heart that your sun’s sit locked down by fractions of time, cell blocks, bars and mental barriers. But I also know you will find piece in their transition. And know you were always presenting us with the truth of our evils. And so you too should be reminded of your victory. It’s always easier to shed light on darkness. Than to allow light to illuminate and stand alone. Shine Bright. You always said you couldn’t wait until we left…so take advantage of this day. Just remember we are never to far away.

Happy Born Day Momma.

Dear Momma (Christmas 2008)

today is my momma's born day. we have a bday 2 weeks apart! here is a letter i sent her for christmas 2008... another current post coming later today..

Dear mom,
I’m not home for the holidays this year. But I am in reflection. Of the change and transitions. Moving back home after college felt like a huge disappointment. You never knew the woman I became to be. I fault you for keeping the mold and never getting to know the real me. And so we argue, you yell and I blame everyone else. Seems like we work better apart. When u can only give me updates and never see my pain or not see me .but over the years I have seen you stress, smile and struggle, most of all for us. Your children. Never did I want that for me. the only daughter, last chance for change in our family since my brothers led astray. Moved away to a big city despite your holding on to me and every few months I wrote my goals:
Graduate college (did that: only in the family w my B.A)
Don’t get pregnant- (I have nieces and nephews to take a baby’s place)
Be better than I left.
Find me
Find peace
Explore life
Find balance
Find stability
And in the back of my head to be better than you. In the back of my head to prove u wrong. to find my dreams not yours. but most of all be better than the struggles I seen you go through. And now faced with adversity, life: the reoccurrence of spirals, slants, car accidents, depression, confusion, panic attacks: when giving up seems easier than going on. And you have no idea how my day is...I think about you. And how I always wanted to be better....when now I aim to be you to make it through my struggles. To make it through. To be strong, determined, dedicated, hopeful and now is when I aim to be you. jus last week i told you i was going to get help and updated you on my situation your words be the strong woman I raised-keep lingering .And thank God I have someone to keep me hoping .
Merry Christmas 2008


flashback piece>>>>


Increasing self determination, esteemed sustained effort to achieve instant, immediate gratification

Knowing that my destination is controlled by my destiny to maintain motivation to accomplish such

Wishing the levels of passion inside could equate, multiply, transform to a beautiful butterfly, catalyst roaming the sky

Keeping a piece of mind within all chaos; through natural disasters Of generational curses who stalk my success, And rape my confidence To be president of my life

Trying to maintain my composure, limiting my physical interactions to mental stipulations on my own territory. But I am fighting my inability.

Attempting to regain notoriety within me to not allow compliancy, coercion, And instead win the chess game.

Increasing my stipulation to levels of the past seems difficult after cold knights, lonely nights, bookless- stuck between each space, holding my pen with nothing to say- wishing my block would erase. To let out these another world I will escape, and slowly I rise.

gliding.... I let my heart control this ink... while only my mind guides my eyes, moving faster than recognition, mental cooperation, not knowing what’s next only what’s within my imagination, a land of simplistic perfection of complex beauties achieving impossible gratification... freedom!

Freedom... one which I can only give myself. As I am trapped I the perpendiculars of society. Aim to see parallel in reality. But it deems less than desire. Yet I still expect it. Dream it. Holding fast to truth, honesty. Within MY civil system as my heart is the judge; and the court plays before me. Who is my jury....reflexion

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Oak Tree

Surrounded by so much life
Each angle falling closer to earth
The color of my skin
Some see death
I find beauty in your nakedness
Strength in each long out stretch
You branches hung my soul
Calling me closer
Silently I can hear your whispers
Imagine the stories you have hidden
The history between your circles
Years of agony,dreams,love,and change
Cycles of life
Seasonal aspirations
Sitting under you
You are mother earth reincarnated in many
Love is in the air
Flowers blooming inside each of us
And the wind chimming in my ear
You stand alone
Seeing past
The winter's snow
Cold blankets of fear and despair
Who are you but alone
Filled with rich beauty
Through all
Who will listen to your story...
Oak tree.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry


I find salvation in you
Conformed by manipulation
Human thought changed and bent
I have found forgiveness in you
Your ability to recreate out of nothing
Proving that existence alone is beauty
Your grace has guided me
Showing me truth and mercy
Life is about flexibility and freedom
You provide me with structure and discipline
Forcing creation,not yet bound by limits
Not yet bound by rules, just free to release
Eternal teacher: magnificent reflection, powerful mirror
Flipping confusion and destruction, focusing in on frustration
Perception and inflection has become everything through you
I have found balance. True internal peace
A scale to weigh my thoughts and a place to rest my emotions
Though the tipping may never be known
The value lives on

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Let Her Shine: Happy Born Day Sis: aka BlackPosImage

this is dedicated to a strong influence in my life. she helps keep me grounded in every area. i love her so much!!!! its unbelievable the bond we have.thank you for every unsaid word, expressed emotion, and laugh. enjoy your birthday sis (brittney greene aka miss

I was born alone. Stuck between two males chromosomes. Raging lion and bull. I met she. Familiar face, free spirit, beautiful smile. The epitome of a solar connection. With each breathe I can feel our energy connected. Consumed by the stars, and elevated by the sunshine. We are equally divine. Having been birthed 10 days apart, riding waves, separated for years, to grow alone... only to create powerful beauty together. She is my brothers best friend. The other end of the Ocean waves. An Eclipse of knowledge surpassing moons of ignorance. Knowledge bearer. Spoon feeding intelligence with desire, love, and hope. A magnificent spirit. Pushing reality to the bounds on the world, and redefining what real is. The new mold that doesn’t stay concrete. She is my friend. Finishing expressions with emotions, and hugging my intellect. We collide to create a masterpiece. And today is her day! Our month of movements, motionless, walking life without fear, speechless yet each word falls eloquently to the page. She is a writer, just like me. A warrior, staggering to maintain never losing foundation, she is a pillar of love. Its number one advocate. My sister. Never birth from stones far apart, we are connected. Even through silence. My soul sistah.

Happy earth day sis! Love you.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Exploring: Saul Williams

Saul Williams aka Niggy Tardust… is profound. Stuck in his own world, never silent to the realms of reality nor trapped by its limits. Having attended Morehouse for acting and philosophy and then to go on to graduate from New York University in acting, Williams has dipped in every realm: spoken word, writer, poet, father, actor, musician, speak of the mind, advocate of the heart… explore his words... and create your own interpretations.

I fell in love with s√he in college. In which he explores love, and the birth of his daughter. One of my favorite pieces:

My feminine side
With flowers

She cut the stems
And placed them gently
Down my throat

And these tu lips
Might soon eclipse
your brightest hopes

Instantly I was pulled in and had to buy everything with his name on it. (Except I have yet to buy The Seventh Octave)

,Said the shotgun to the head…an example of the new epic piece. An ongoing poem... split and altered by pages, commas, punctuation, font sizes and color. Each page connected with the next in some aspect; however each could also hold its own space in time. As the pages count down... the energy and level of connection soars. He starts the book with this introduction:

*This book is the result of a kiss. A kiss that brings symbols to life and fear-based shortcomings to their symbolic death. To be kissed by a deity is nothing short of a miracle. The mind altering/altering effects can last more than a lifetime. Here is the account of a man so ravished by a kiss that it distorts his highest and lowest frequencies of understanding into an incongruent mean of babble and brilliance. He wanders the streets disheveled and tormented by all that he sees that does not reflect her love. He is a wandering man, sort of like a modern day John the Baptist, telling of the coming of a female messiah that he has known intimately. He is the babbling man you cross the street to avoid. He is the unavoidable end before the new beginning. He is a lover in search of a greater love. SHE is ONE and many: Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction and creation; Oya, the Yoruba orisha of death and rebirth; the Holy Ghost, which is to say, the women restored to her place in the Holy Trinity. No longer ghost, no longer virgin, SHE is the mother of us all.

The Dead Emcee Scrolls: The Lost Teachings of Hip-Hop, a complement of 7 sectioned poems, and then his personal journal pieces. Williams explores the realm of possibility of having to decipher 7 scrolls that were found in a subway. He leads you on his path, lyrically and literary, while you explore how words can ride beats, and emotions can spring rhymes so eloquently. This was a big time favorite for the men in my life that write, bless the mic, and need motivation to keep words moving through them. ( a dope YouTube!!! )

•The Seventh Octave, 1998, Moore Black Press ISBN 0-9658308-1-0
•She, 1999, MTV/Pocketbooks ISBN 0-671-03977-6
•,said the shotgun to the head, 2003, MTV/Pocketbooks ISBN 0-7434-7079-6
•The Dead Emcee Scrolls, 2006, MTV/Pocketbooks ISBN 1-4165-1632-8


"Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again - the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world's greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding"
— Saul Williams (Said the Shotgun to the Head)

Monday, February 15, 2010

The Amerikkkan Life

Ahhhh... I want to say i wrote this in 2007... rewind.

The Amerikkan Life

To my brothas
My mothers
The men women
They dont scream spare me
They cry liberate me
From the daily
Struggle to survive
The Amerikkkan life

Those political prisoners
Captured due to the
Governments inabilities to compromise
To sacrifice
Power in hopes of
Some type of equality
Taking up extra space
Using their time
Enslaved by the system
When all they wanted
Was to thrive
The American life

To the hustlers
On the block
The strippers at the spot
The illegal grinds
That constantly diminish
Your body and mind
But pumps your pockets
With I hope enough
To gain determination
To have ambition
To get out one day
And defeat the struggle
The American life

To the brothas intertwined
In the fight against the man
In hopes to unite justice
The college student continuing to do
Even against all odds
The corporate
America Survivor
To the 9 to 5 divers
Swimming in trenches
Of corruption
Just in hopes of making it
In this world
The American life

For a single parent
Trying to pay the bills
Changing granny’s name to momma
Cuz kids only know what they see
Only learn what they
Parents feed
When all that is real
Breaking a sweat
To get by in
The American life

For the givers
The donators
The doers
The leaders
Who follow paths
To the know alls
Trying to maintain structure
The golden pot
The kings
The gods
Princes wifing dimes
To live out a fantasy
Of independent grinds
Of making it alone
But still stuck
In poverty
The hood
A borough that aint never gonna change
Cuz all else hasn’t
So the struggle
The fantasy
Still remains
Trying to live
The American life

This is for the fallen
Remembrance for those
Who have fought the battle
And lost it
To time
Let us pour one for those
Whose bodies survived as examples
Repeatedly depicting the
Reality of lack to overcome
Crime Money
The system
The fight still rages against Corruption
For the slain
The sick
And the lost Fighting hard with
That strong desire to end our struggle
This bull shit American life
Let me end this
Wit a trophy
For us
(Fuck them)
For our people
Who are dying to live
But struggling in the fight
For those who aint scarred
Of the truth
The 5% who understand
Those who appreciate our roots
Them dudes who know what we all need to do
Let us stand up for them
Raise our fist for them
Cuz with out their hope and dedication
No one could make it through!!
Fuck this American life

Friday, February 12, 2010

Guest Showcase: J'Aimmee aka iTmeans_iLOVE(twitter)

Twitter: iTmeans_iLOVE
Bio: Simply complex and unique. Never stumbling from the wounds of the world. Trendsetter. Urban go getter. Spreads energy to each space.

Branded by Disgrace

She was branded by disgrace
A young woman whose life didn't match her face
Whose life didn't match the face.
The façade.
She was branded by disgrace,
The back of her shoulders burned
With the marks of common fate.
Her back and her shoulders weighed down by
All God's missing grace
God missed her, so she left Him
And he, he took her.
He took her life with every blow to her face,
With every thrust below her waist,
With every tear poured out her face...
And she grew, lifeless.
She was branded with HIS disgrace.
Face and lips, no hips and lips
Hips and Fist...her face, his fist.
Bruised, broken, battered, torn
BRANDED...with his fist
And with his lips...with Disgrace.
And he left her lifeless, with just a face
A façade; a lifeless mirage.
And through all this, all she wanted to know was...
When he took her shattered innocence
For braze and barren offering
Where was God?
When, even though she was told she was beautiful,
He showed her, her beauty wasn't enough?
Where was God when his lust
Left her in shattered shreds of innocence
Shattered, shredded, innocent.
Bruised, branded, disgraced.
A lifeless body, a pretty face.
Covered by a façade
A glowing smile and bright eyes
A confident strut with her head held high.
A million questions in her mind
And she never inquired "why?"
But better yet "where?"
Through all these trials, she asked me, Where?
Where was God?
She asked me and I told her.
You see, He was right there.
Every time, He was standing right there...right here
See He was there that day
Pulling on the strings that brought up the sun in the sky
On that one beautiful morning, where for once,
She didn't have to cry.
He was the one pulling on the side of her lips,
So that even through all her strife,
She could continue to bless the world with her smile.
He was there...when somebody else chose to ask her why?
When someone else saw her cry.
When her story changed all those lives...
The whole time he was right there...
Waiting for her to open her eyes
To realize...
That, yes, she was branded by disgrace.
But only so through her life
She could brand others with His grace.

- J. A. Louis

Reflection: there is purpose in every thing. Find the meaning and purpose in your life. Aim high. Reach beyond the scope of your hands. Do expect things to come easy, and instead be willing to work for it. You are only as strong as the pillars holding you up… remember your system can be faulting if your foundation is weak. Realize that you cant do it alone… do not walk blinded.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Planning and Preparing for your GOALS

Thursdays this month my focus has been development...whether professional or life skills. Last Thursday I posted about the importance of knowing your purpose and being able to vocalize or write your mission statement. Today, I am going to keep building on this and touch on the value of walking through and writing down your goals in life. I’m sure many have heard that writing things helps to actualize them, which I too believe. In addition everything needs planning and preparation. We have desires for many things in this world. But are we always ready to receive them when they come??? How prepared are you to receive that big career boost or change, a free ride to continue your education, a soul mate, or move to a new city or state. Have you actually thought about what you would say or do if someone presented you with all your desires?

So in short why is it important to work on your goals?
• Writing them helps you think about your priorities
• Plan to accomplish
• Preparation for when the goal is achieve… Before/After.
• A reminder and point of focus…
• Find purpose in others, assistance in achieving your goals.

So let’s try this out... grab some paper... and get to thinking, writing, planning, and preparing for a successful life.

•Long term goals (10 years)
•Short-term goals (5)
•Immediate goals (6 months to a year)
•What is the most important? (3)
•What could get in my way?
o List some obstacles to accomplishing your goals
•What actions do I take to meet my goals?
o What resources will I need?
•Who can help me?
o List family members, friends, coworkers who can help you meet your goals
•When do I start?
•Write down a kickoff date for taking action, Indicate when you hope to accomplish the goal: Start date and End Date

Types of Goals
•Career Goals
o Getting a promotion
o Reach a certain professional level
o Learn a new job skill
o Complete a project in a specific amount time
•Financial Goals
o Earn certain amount of money in a specific time
o Get rid of debt
o Set up an investment plan
•Educational Goals
o Earn credits towards a degree
o Take adult education class
o Advance your education
•Health and Fitness Goals
o Work out three or four times a week
o Join a health club
o Have an annual checkup
o Quit smoking
o Eat nutritious food
•Community Involvement
o Volunteer with a specific organization
•Aim for greater Self-Understanding
o Work to become less anxious, jealous, or insecure.
o Meet new people and make new friends
o Personal self improvement goals
•Spiritual Growth
o Set aside time to think about what matters spiritually,
o What keeps you elevated, content, and stable through tough times
•Leisure Time
o Relax more
o Plan a trip
o Make time for a hobby
o Make time for self

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

burning desire...

There is a burn in my soul. Silently I succumb to my bodies desire to release. a burn in my soul to let all the wounds, emotions, spirals of thoughts, and consciousness exhale. The itch supersedes any real life priority, expectation, or circumstance. It simply is the continuation of each breath. Moments of time captures in frames, second by second… I explode, having lost pieces of myself. Yet gained something even more valuable. Trembling, shaking with confusion, I no longer want to feel the need. Addicted to the concept of letting each letter roll of my tongue, drip down my heart and dive into my chi, only to infect every inch. An addict. Without movement, without expression…without visual thought. I believe I would perish. Soak into the concrete of every limit, every rule, every law created to redefine the meaning of life. I would crumble, into piece so small I would never be able to identify myself. It seems for with my attempts to catalog my presence, it simply only furthers my questioning. My desire to get free from addiction, only entices exploration. A wonder so great, and powerful, must be stopped. Calculating each move, I want to end this craving for more. Yet it’s strength increases exponentially. Constantly reaching a new high. Facing days alone, seeking block, and withdrawal. Profound blessings always come home. Thus the burn continues. Waking me in my sleep. Scratching at the doors of anxious creation and this is why I write.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Khalil Gibran

Born January 6, 1883, Khalil Gibran was a Lebanese American artist, poet, painter, and writer. His literary career developed after immigrating to the United States. Known for his 1923 book, The Prophet, a series of philosophical essays writing in prose. Gibran’s presence was a gift to my life and writings. After soaking myself in The Prophet, I can’t recall a time that I didn’t use his writings as a point of reflection, inspiration, and balance. His words so eloquently places, align not only the most subtle of emotions, but confirm the most important thing: everything has meaning. The story of his life, his love, his mediums of expression and intimacy are profound. Gibran reaffirms that expression at all levels is essential for growth.

His work can be found in the Telfair Museum of Art in Savannah, Georgia and University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Library. In addition there are memorials and buildings dedicated to him in Canada, Boston, Brooklyn, D.C, and of course internationally where his final resting place has become Lebanon.

And I will close with this…The words written next to Gibran's grave are "a word I want to see written on my grave: I am alive like you, and I am standing beside you. Close your eyes and look around, you will see me in front of you ...."

I just recently… printed several copies of The Prophet… and mailed them to my brother and his inmate “friends”… it’s that timeless.


Monday, February 8, 2010


Enjoy this piece I love… wrote about a special friend that I didn’t want to lose... 2008. Rewind in motion. Peace. (I know it is long... but trust me it’s worth the read)

A commitment of friendship. Golden days built on sunshine smiles and hope for change leads me searching for confirmation. I see beauty in the seconds we spend together and the hours I long for u. this separation created by my imagination yet fueled by the miles between us, leaving me questioning.

I yearn for a commitment of friendship. I see humanity in your eyes and hunger in your hopes; I taste loneliness in your kisses. It’s something about this... I can't put my finger to it. The world I have created for u, u don't live in. I find myself taking rockets to planets far away... streaming. Only to realize it is only me on the moon searching for growth. And you are flying Saturn's around me.

Quiet times of silent cries and lost breathes leaves my mind puzzled with agony. Wondering why your actions get to me. But I still come back. Having no choice but to have faith in u, because I trust myself, the self I see in your soul that provokes me. Engulfs me, intrigues me.

Wondering if the facade I create will disappear as these days do... and my departure comes to. And I find myself... hearing commitment of friendship. Asking for such would be demanding loyalty to a stranger... or my bank information to Uncle Lenny with the habit... and yet I type each word... expecting insanity.

It's like the conversations ended when the hugs began, and those paused with the music beats from your heart. And ****, who am I to push that **** to the back or the side or the front, who am I to refuse the art, and masturbate to ideals of words being reality's confirmation of balance.

Turning time backwards to build on what should have been now would only seem troublesome. And yet I seek the solidification of all my confusion. Pondering on how future visits will be labeled and connections defined, I want to seal the moment of interest with friendship. Kiss away the emotions of… it was good then but maybe it's not good now, or I am sorry I over stepped my place only to find me enjoying your touch…and that sorry only meant what??

And I laugh to myself and such demands I wish to ask. I laugh because as I know the self I see in you... my initial point of thought would be wrapped around why and how... or what…now?. Why would u give such with out allowing you to really give all? I have noticed that the small amounts of sunlight that's shined from your windows are the same ruining your warm dark nights. Locking yourself in such solitude only provokes retreat. And yet I find strength in your push away. Limited strength.

And how... how can u lend your insides to someone destitute for separation, designed for the same solitary confinement you are, and find peace in the situation. I do. Find peace in u. that is. Or simply in the thought that the person I have wanted to know... I have come to. Whether that is what I wanted it to be, or should I say the whether it is the person I expected to meet, it is how I desired. Wanting intellectual connection through unsaid words, unwritten thoughts, simple hugs and goodbyes. The goodbyes that u are all too fond of hearing. And fail to say at separation.

And what of it all... why not just let things fade into existence and exist as is... or come as be... and melt with the sunshine coming up, and soften with the moons glaze. Why not just ignore all these mixed words and chopped emotions... and just live as you did before me. Or as u do now... with me... on the edge of question... failing to see or hear things I mention... like those speaking to me as I type this. My heart writes this. And I can't stop expressing this.

I feel like time cost more than gas now and days … and I find myself selling mine to only wish for yours. Or spending mine waiting on yours. Either or… your presence is lacking these past … beats… and who am I to question this almost there, once was there, will be there.. Kind of man. Feeling that what I have wished to invest doesn't measure to my capabilities, if only I were given some opportunity... which is why I seek a commitment of sun ship.

Some…unwritten, unspoken, invisible seal of connection that allows these barriers to halt for minutes. To fall for conversations... Crumble for hugs. True, deep, spiritual hugs. From day one I have been pulled away from u by the arms that hug me and any hopes of such optimism has been spoken false by the mind I admire in you... And yet my urge has been to revoke such insanity. And push for faith of knowing the person I am, is the real person I want you to see, not the images and stories, and long nights…that I have created.

But of course, time changes everything... Including rules and regulations of sun ships. So I just aim for confirmation that you will give the time needed in order to see the sun in me, that I have searched for in you... since day one. Circling back to my point of existence... Friendship. Such confusing Aquarius' characteristics leaves me stuck in the mirror writing this... re-reading each sentence with the pretense... knowing that it will never be sent... And u will not know my inner thoughts.

Just hellos, hugs, and good byes.
Just hugs, hello, and good byes.
Just hello, hi... I am leaving... good bye

today is my born day

Today is my birthday! 2010 has been a year of focus and constant reflection. My investments in myself have definitely been showing in these last few months. January was a long month, it seemed like my days at work would never end. And yet every day I find something to laugh about, debate about, and question with rational. I think ima play it low key this birthday. i really miss my brothers. their presence and spirit are in transition and i must except that. I really need to get some touch ups on my tats by Melvin Todd at City of Ink (check his blog to… its bananas, or oranges if you prefer those.) And add to my back… hopefully I can do both soon… And I really want to just go bowling and crack jokes with a gang of folks. Another day, another dollar. Thankful for my freedom. My family. My insight. im thankful to have friends that remind me of my worht when i sometime forget. lol. its soo much going on in reality.. i seem to get lost in thew daze of my dreams... thank u for reading this year.. and being apart of my valleys and mountains..

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Personal Mission Statement

Personal Mission Statement

The other day I sat in a training on developing your personal mission statement. Whether it is one sentence, three paragraphs or a one page essay. It is crucial for not only professional development, but personal growth that one takes the time to invest in a personal mission statement. Now, your statement should change as you grow as a person... and as your interest and goals change… so please make sure you do one every 6 months to a year at least. It will help you focus, tune in on your life, and really access whether your actions are aligned with your goals.

Mission Statement: formal short written statement of the purpose of an organization, that should help guide, spell out it overall goal, and provide a sense of direction, and path for decision making.

YOUR mission statement should include your purpose, inputs, outcomes, and what will be obtained. Think about how you want to brand yourself. What perception does other have of you? And what is the perception you want them to have? Where is the reality with in both? What are your values, what is important for your stability and grounding in life? Combine all these aspects into something eloquent, portraying nothing but what you posses and aim to accomplish. Learn to manipulate perception with words, and reality... Allow others to mold an image that will keep you thriving and thus that you can sustain.

I will post mine soon... stay tuned... I have several for various purposes...

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

I have enough faith to lend.. do you??

So I was going to post on something else today.. but for now.. I am just going to write from the heart. What do you value? If everything was snatched away from you… what would you ask god to give back?

I don’t remember a time without friends, because it never really mattered to me, I always had my brothers. There were my friends and equally my enemies on bad days. I guess you can say I was far beyond a tomboy growing up. Everything they grew out of slowly found its way in my closet. I remember many fun days exploring the woods nearby, wandering off for hours with out anyone knowing, to come home in trouble. But mom always gave me the freedom I needed to develop into this beautiful soul. (thank god). I never had a curfew, rules, or limits, just simply… make sure the brothers knew who I was with and where.

Over the years, my business was never my business, which help regulate the things I did and the people I socialized with. My little brother is one year and almost 6 months apart from me. We fought everyday growing up, about little things.. one time he got mad because I wouldn’t let him cook something after mom’s told me he broke a glass pan. But yet no matter how mad my brother was with me, he never hesitated to be by my side, defend me, or simply correct me when I was wrong. And my older brother, the natural born genius, seemed to be good at anything he put his mind to. He can manipulate any situation to benefit himself... except lately. Time has caught up to both of them.

I found myself this weekend listening to my older brother, Esso, cd… real hard. reading his letters from prison seems to help bring all these memories alive. Help put my goals, and desires for my family and self in perspective. They are never too far away. Just yesterday my younger brother turned himself in, to let time tick away at his brain. Over and over… I used to joke with my mother that I don’t get enough attention because I am on the “right” path. And yet more and more as I reflect on these last months... I now am starting to believe... their path has been “correct” for them.

Greed, jealousy, love, confusion, desire... all conflicted with misguidance leads to a dead end or a u-turn. As everything was slowly snatched away from both of them… slowly I can see their growth. Slowly I can see their appreciation. Slowly I can see them hurting. That seems to be enough for me these days. The memories. The moments. The fact that they may be better inside there, then in a different type of box, buried beneath my walking footsteps. That keeps me. And my writings will only confirm that things are changing. Now its time for me to stick by their side….

They have sacrificed so much for me to be me. To be grounded in strong principles. To be strong and determined. To take their examples and never duplicate them. To understand what trust is, and how loyalty is a luxury. They have dedicated themselves to seeing me do well in school, without a doubt that I would fail. Who am I to not sacrifice anything for them? I have enough faith to lend. do you?

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Poetry Is NOT a Luxury

Audre Lorde

Teach Em Tuesday… I was introduced to Audre Lorde’s writings my freshman year of college. Exploring the realms of the world…. The unconditional moves that we make in life that are dedicated to self growth and development.. put her in my path. Zami… I remember reading that book like 3 times.. and every time finding something new to connect with. A new question to ask myself… and those around me. As my studies developed so did my need to research my likes… which put me on to Poetry is Not a Luxury essay. Now, whenever I need a reminder of why I was blessed with this gift to move my fingertips in such a way that puts emotions in frames for history that plants images with each stroke… I read this essay. Don’t hesitate to experience this pleasure with me…

Poetry Is NOT a Luxury: Audre Lorde

The Quality of Light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives. It is within this light that we form those ideas by which we pursue our magic and make it realized. This is poetry as illumination, for it is through peotry that we give name to those ideas which are - until the poem - nameless and formless, about to be birthed, but already felt. That distillation of experience from which true poetry springs births thought as dreams births concepts, as feeling births idea, as knowldege births (precedes) understanding...

Monday, February 1, 2010

Externally Wounded

My posts are about to start being a little more theme organized. Today I wanted to post a strong piece. A reflective piece. I wrote this sometime in 2008, I worked at the Carlos Museum at Emory... got a chance to help with a lot exhibits, and reflect on a lot of history. A lot of open wounds that we as people continue to hold on to… so heal with me...

Externally Wounded

I was born
Bloody from oppression
Lack of freedom to the womb
Who are you that was born healthy?
Foreign to the country.
Their country.
Field at the hands of the enslaved
Take away kind
Take away color
The mentality of destruction.
Selfish Empowerment at the hands of humanity

I was created
with ropes around my neck
They already set aside my noose
Gestation purgatory
hell’s heaven
yet the afterlife seems like bliss
They must have known
I would fight for justice
so they prepared to combat my strength

limitless, bound by hope and freedom
They must have known
the power of true knowledge
yet within
Their education, their country
I was born.
Walking backward on fear
And looking away from weakness
Yes, they must have known our people would
Create the strong
Be the mighty
Despite our being
Born into misery on foreign kinds
Now becoming foreign homes
And culture lost in trips in boats
Lost in trips on boats tamed by whips
Whips that hit at the core of soul
Dehumanizing hope
And rationalizing power and greed
Willie lynch them
Generational divides
Between cultural misprints and misreads
Power structures
Left generations to die.

And me.
Born into the ills of the world
Molded, crafted, from first breath
The chosen one to lead
Those blinded
soul cultivated
Speech manipulated
By the blood of these people
Our people
My people
And my birth was celebrated
With another number
In the army for freedom
Already wounded by history
Already slain by history
Bloody still from oppression
ready to fight.
With only my soul.
Open, branded with freedom on forearm
Reading manuscripts of pass explorations on faith
against this unjust fairytale
Of America’s dreams
It’s creating my blueprint.
I am attempting to regain dignity
In our conception. Our presence.
Our essence of being.

There are no battle wounds on
The battle field for the new
Leaving behind Garvey
Malcolm and Fannie
For a pause
A breath, fresh air, cleansed
By all our blood deaths, and past births scorn
Fighting from wounds they have started
But we have yet to finish. Understood/
We need to finish
Open books
Pens awaiting touch
Paper, ink, awaiting history
To be used to document this new battle
The change in this country
Formulated off greed and hatred
Yet its came to be known for its
Ability to keep everlasting dreams
While culture and history
Was stolen, thus depleted.
So I rise.
I am born
to create infinites
To believe in the limitless
Based foundations on faith
Positive yet realistic premises
That all karma is not good:

Stolen silence
and they
Will have their share
And the light will shine
Reborn with my ancestors
Rebirth of my future
No more wounds.
No more bloodshed
No more misery.
Soul, purity, vision
New world order-divine
Truth, with faith in heart
Hope in veins, knowledge in mind
I write the future to claim
No more wounds.
Change is in vision.
Vision is clear.
Practice is in action.
Action is near.
Let go
Of these wounds