Wednesday, November 9, 2011

People vs. Ms. Glory Bell Dean

Everybody’s got a particular way of seein’ a thing and judging it to be right or wrong or wrong or right according to what they know to be the truth. How they mama raised them, where they was brought up, they struggles and they own particular blessings and lessons. Aint just no one way to do it right. Lotta people caint see through a thing the way I can. I always did have extra wisdom more than what most come with. I guess it’s a blessing and a curse at the very same time.

I was born and brought up right here in The Village. She wasn’t, but I was. Right here. Now I just moved into this house about a year ago, but I came up just two blocks over. My mama schooled me on cookin’ and book learnin’ everyday right in that kitchen. She passed away oh fifteen years ago. It been that long? I guess it have. Me and her would shol have a real good laugh at what’s goin’ on if she was here. I will tell you that.

Little Miss Ann come callin’ me one morning. I calls her Fassy Annie ‘cause she got kinda a little priss about herself. She aint from here. I’m from here, but she aint. She got a lotta proper in her speakin’ and she always wearin’ them suit kinda clothes with her shirt tucked in and pulled out just a little and gotta little cuff in her pants. Oh she thank she is the cutest thang goin’ on! Always around here click click clickin’ in her heels. Who wear heels alla time that mean any good to anybody? Nobody that’s who.

“Excuse me, Ms. Dean, I was wondering if I could meet with you tomorrow at noon so that we could discuss a few things?” What do she thank I wanna discuss with her? Here she is tryin’ to kick me and my kids out onto the street and she wanna discuss with me? I tell her she can come over at noon, two, three, fo five six, don’t make no difference to me ‘cause I done said all I have to say. “Well ok, I’ll see you at noon sharp. You have a blessed day.” Have a blessed day. What do she know about havin’ a blessed day and how can she tell it to me when she is tryin’ to put me out? I guess I just don’t know about peoples. And she is supposed to be a preacher. My mama always did tell me to watch out for womens who was preachers. It aint the way God meant for it to be. Don’t ask me, just read yo Bible all the way through. It’s shol in there.

Well she come over the next morning clickin’ up my walkway with them prissy clothes on switchin’ her tail. Oh I will tell you. “Good morning, Ms. Dean. How are you doing today?” Yes she did ask me that.

“Well I guess I’m doing just fine for an old lady with nine children who is about to be kicked out her house onto the cold streets by a young preacher gal who got herself a husband and only two kids and a house to live in. Yeah, just fine.”

“That’s what I need to discuss with you Ms. Dean. May I sit please?" I didn’t say yes and I didn’t say no but she don’t know ‘cause she shol didn’t wait around for no answer. Just sat right on down there. Come to think of it, I think she even dusted off the chair ‘fore she sit in it. “Ms. Dean, I’m not out to do you or your children any harm. I really want the best for you, but I would like for you to clearly see my side of this. I rented this house to my Uncle Topper and he invited you to move in.”

“Thas right, Topper, God rest his beloved, righteous soul invited me to move in. Invited! You and yo family ack like I forced my way in like a thief in the night.”

“Well, ma’am when he passed away six months ago what did you expect? Did you think that you could just stay in my house rent free?”

“Would you just stop it with all that rent free?! I told you that I would start payin’ you some money soon as I could. I looked you right in your face and told you.”

“But you never completed the application I sent you, and you never paid me any money.”

“Because I told you that’s just too much money to be askin’ from somebody that got nine kids. I don’t know what kinda mother you think I am, but I gotta think about my kids, don’t I? They did teach you about that at preachin’ school didn’t they?”

“Let’s just stay focused here, please? I certainly understand that you have children, but I’m asking you to understand that getting money from my properties that I rent out is how I take care of my children. This is just business for me."

Now when she said that I felt my pressure risin’. I sure did. She could tell it too ‘cause she started getting up right then and headin’ to the door. She know better. She shol aint completely crazy.

“Ma’am I have already filed the papers to have you officially evicted. I’m sorry that it had to be this way”

“Yeah right, you sorry about kickin’ me and my nine kids out.

She was good and out the door by the time I told her where she could go with her papers. I don’t care nothin’ about no papers. I only care about what’s gon happen to me and my kids and now here it is almost November and ‘bout to be rainin’ real good. Lady preachers, I’ll tell you. Just then she stop clickin’ on the walkway and turn around. “You know, Ms. Dean, I wasn’t going to say anything but since you insist on being really nasty with me throughout this whole process, I will give you some words of advice.” Words of advice? For me? I know this young gal aint talkin’ to me. “Perhaps you should be more concerned with yourself than with your children who are all grown except for you sixteen years old twins. They are all living here with you. Don’t you think they should be on their own or at least working so that they can help you out?”

“Looka here Missy Fassy Annie, you don’t know what it is to be me. My son Marvin done broke his two legs in a car accident. I’m his mother and I gotta take care of him. Who else gon do it? You gon do it?"

“Well couldn’t he go and get some kind of public assistance?”

“Public assistance? Them people don’t be helpin’ nobody. The only thing they tryin’ to offer him is some funky ole two hundred fifty dollars. What he gon do with two hundred fifty dollars? Then he gotta go down there every month and get it. How he supposed to do that, huh? Then William and Barry both been to jail and it aint they faults that folks don’t hire folks that’s been to jail. Alla my children got situations to be figured around. You think you got my whole life worked out don’t you? But you don’t really know nothin’. Every time I turn around seem like the good Lord just testing me. Seem like He just don’t want me to have nothin’ and nobody. He took my mama when I wasn’t nowhere near ready for her to go. Took my youngest baby Pearl when she wasn’t doin’ nothin’ to nobody , and what somebody wanna come run up behind her stealin’ her pocketbook and stabbin’ her in the heart for I just don’ know? Every time I look up and then down He takin’ one and another of my boys to jail for no good reason except they just tryin’ to make it in this world. He even took away Topper. And I know Topper wasn’t noways mines but he took one look at me and shol gave me and my kids someplace to live and now look what happen once again, he got tooken from me. And now you.”

Now I shol didn’t mean for Miss Fassy to see me breakin’ down like but sometimes life just gets real hard and the stuff that’s been building up in yo chest come out. You don’t’ never know when it’s gon happen it just do is all.

Everybody always wanna see something fixed and all worked out but it don’t be sometimes. It just be what it is.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Sugar's Baby (in loving memory of Baby Mary)

Finally! Seem like I been waitin’ forever and a day just to tell my story. I got a story to tell too. I guess you say this better be a good one huh? Well, it ain nothin’ that’s what it is. Iss a story about my nothin’. I couldn’ ax for nothin’ better than nothin’ with every and all the things I been through.

This is a picture of my Mercy. She sure was one pretty one wasn’ she? I didn’ have a camera so I just drew a picture of her. It ain all the way right on because I’m not a professional artist or nothin’ like that, but you can still tell how preddy she was right? I know it. She was only three days when she went on and left. I had her right here in this house. Right here. My sister helped me deliver her. We were in my own room on my own bed. Buford was fightin’ overseas and couldn’ be here. But he was here. In his own quiet way. All my brothers and sisters came and waited in the livinroom for the baby to come. All of them, and me of course, and Mama. Daddy wasn’ here because it was Sunday and he had to preach night service. It wasn’ nothin’ that was ever gon keep him from night service. He didn’ even miss it the Sunday after he passed. He said the Lord told him he was gon take him away and to get the service together. So he wrote it down on a piece of paper and had my oldest living brother Theodore read it to the crowd while his body was layin’ right there.

I laid down on the bed after my water broke and Happy came in and took over. I juss did everything she say. She said push and I pushed. She said breathe and thass what I did too. I guess it took about ten hours, but after it was over I didn’ even remember the time. What time? I just held her in my arms rockin' back and forth. Rockin’ and singin’ to her. I knew she was gon be a girl because Happy been dreamin’ ‘bout spiders . Happy even knew what the girl was gon look like and what she had come here to do. New babies always come to see Happy. They always do. Happy even tole me what to name her. Mercy. I pretty much do whadever Happy tell me and it so happen that I like that name too. Mercy.

After Mercy came through, everybody came into the room with us and took turns holdin’ her and kissin' all over her. Everybody except Rufus. Rufus didn’ touch babies. Ever since his own boy Booty passed on in his arms he stayed away from babies. It wasn’ his fault or nothin’ like that. The angels got ready for Booty to come home thass all. He came in the room though. Sat over in the corner wantin’ to smile. Rufus never did smile much either. He wanted to though. So there was Marvin, JuniorBoy, Theodore, Rufus, Happy, BabyGirl, Sister, Brother, Ruth, Amos, Paul, Simon, Ezra, Joseph and David. Esther, Nehemiah, and Leviticus had passed on by then. I was the baby.

I guess that was the happiest day of my whole life. Holdin’ Mercy in my arms all night. I didn’ even want to go to sleep. Happy told me to sleep when the baby was sleep so I could be well rested for her feedin’. I loved feedin’ my baby. Seem like she knew just how to do it. Even better than I did. Mercy would wrap her little biddy lips around my nipple and juss go at it. All the way till she was full all the way up. Seem like she would drink all the milk from one breast and move herself over to the next.

Happy tole me to go out Tuesday evening to get some fresh air. I didn’t want no fresh air, I just wanted to stay inside and kiss over mercy. I did what she told me to do though. I went in the backyard and sat on the swing Amos had built. That was my dream place. I could stay out there all day and never know what time it was. I would swing on that swing and dream up some good ole dreams. That day I dreamed that Buford could be with us and see Mercy. He wasn’ gon be able to come until the end of the week. Seem like that was takin’ forever. I stopped daydreamin’ long enough to hear Mama and Daddy in my room singin’. They didn’ never sing together. They was barely in the same room together. Daddy was always in the backroom workin’ on his sermon for the next Sunday. Thass what babies do though. They bring folks together. After while I was tired of swingin’ and dreamin’ and I wanted to feed my baby.

I went in the house and Daddy walked out as I was comin’ in. He didn’ say nothin’. But then he barely did say nothin'. I picked up Mercy and there she was just as beautiful as ever. It just wasn’t no baby born in this world as beautiful as mines. Mama heard me say that one time and she tole me don’ never say that again ‘cause it was a disrespect to Baby Jesus. I guess so.

Happy tole me to go on and lay down and take a nap. I tole her I didn’ feel like takin’ no nap. I wanted to hold Mercy. Even if Mercy was sleepin' I just wanted to hold her and look at her while she slept. I could tell Happy didn’t want me to hold my own baby but she really couldn’t say nothin’. She was my baby, not hers. She and Mama left the room not sayin’ nothin' and I did what I wanted to do. I kinda started thinkin’ that maybe Happy was just a little bit jealous of me havin' my very own baby ‘cause she was the only one of us that didn’ never have one yet.

I held Mercy for a real long time and she never did cry or fidget or nothin'. She just laid there. After awhile Rufus walk in and just took Mercy right out of my arms. Didn’t say nothin’, just took her and held her. I didn’t say nothin’ ‘cause it ain like Rufus to even hold a baby. I started to think about all the miracles Mercy was bringin’ to the family already. Mama and Daddy singin' together. Bein’ in the same room. Rufus pickin' up and holdin’ a baby. He put his lips to her cheeks and started to cry. I did too. I guess he was rememberin' Booty.

It look like Happy was right after all about me layin’ down ‘cause I shol did get real real sleepy after that. I laid on down and took a nap. Guess I was even more tired than I thought I was because it was early the next mornin’ when I woke up. I didn’ see Mercy so I went to see who was huggin’ and kissin’ all over her. Seem like I couldn’ find nobody. Then I heard that old piano playin' in the livinroom and I couldn’ race in there fast enough? Didn’ nobody play that piano and make it sound like that except for Buford. I stood there watchin' and listenin' to him. There he really was. So handsome. He looked at me and tole me to come over and sit on the bench with him while he play.

“Where everybody at?” I don’ know why I axed him like he should know.

“They out back getting ready. You gotta go get ready too.”

“Get ready for what? I ain goin’ nowhere. Come on Baby I got to show you yo very own baby girl. She the most beautiful baby ever been born in the world except for Baby Jesus. Where she at?” Then I went in Mama and Daddy 's room and there she was. Sleepin’ like an angel. Somebody had got her all dressed for me. She had on all white with a little bonnet. I picked her up like I always do but she felt…heavy. The kinda heavy that just a few days caint to do nobody. But what did I really know about babies? I kissed her and her skin felt like a doll skin. “She so soft. Buford, aint she just pretty?”

Buford looked at her but he didn’ wanna hold her. Then Rufus came in and took her from me again. “Mercy gon on, Sugar. Get dressed and come on out back with us. “

“Gon on? What you talkin’?” I knew. But I didn’ know. Because I didn’ want to know. Then I heard Mama and Daddy and all my livin’ brothers and sisters in the far end of the backyard singin’ and knew for sure. Mercy had her white dress on so I put my white dress on too. Buford had on his uniform and we walked out together. My Mercy didn’ have no shoes on so I didn’t put none on either.

“And we will all be together on that great gettin’ up mornin’…” They were all there finishin’ up the song. Daddy was holdin’ her over the hole about to pray. I didn’ wanna pray. I didn’ close my or nothin’ neither. I just looked at my Mercy one more time.

Morning Clear

I told Jermaine not to go to that party in The Jungle. The brothas in The Jungle and the brothas in The Village have been feudin’ over two years now. About what? About nothin’. They don’t have nothin’ else to do I guess. It’s all so silly to me. The clothes, the guns, the colors. Jermaine said nothin’ was gon happen but the way I had been scratchin’ on my elbows three days in a row, I knew what I was talkin’ about. Jermaine always told me to stop with all that nonsense. But I know what I know. Had it been just two days itchin’ or went well into four or some other even number, then maybe not, but three? I know what I know.

Here everything is goin’ on so good and Jermaine is goin’ off to play football in college and then some professional team and make us a whole lotta mon ey…then this. He was drivin’ home from the party and Cedric and Bishop and MarcusRufus were all in the car with him. A car pulled up beside them and shot at Jermaine’s car then somebody from Jermaine’s car shot back. They say it was Jermaine but it wasn’t Jermaine at all. Jermaine doesn’t even have a gun and he wouldn’t do anything like that if he did. Ask me, it was MarcusRufus but he’s too scared to say anything and so are the other ones that were in the car. The boy in the other car died right there even before the amalamce got to him.

So now Maine’s in jail. After all the good he’s been don’ all these years. You can’t find one person that will say one bad thing about Jermaine and now they’re talkin’ about not letting him out of that jail. He didn’t do it though. He didn’t. The tops of my toes started itchin’ just three and a half hours after I went down to see him in that place. I looked at him right between his eyes. That’s where you hafta look when you wanna know of the real whole truth is comin’ out or not. I looked at him and that little spot didn’t twitch or nothn’. I didn’t blink. I just looked . It didn’t! Not one single time! Even if I was blind I would have known he wasn’t lyin’ to me because I just know Jermaine. But now this. His trial is due two weeks from now so we just gotta wait. Wait and see how long my toes gon itch.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Life

There are always wounds that won't close
Words that can't be taken back
You can put honey on top
Still there is oleander underneath

Everything is as it should be
Still
'Cause what artist could stand sweet tea all the time
All the time?
What could she paint with only pink
Only pink?

Sunday, October 2, 2011

A poem to the African statue on top of the bookcase

I understand sista
Was just like you
Placed on pedestal
Unwanted not ready
Frozen locked into
Someone else's
Ideas of who I should be
His dream
Her religiosity

I get it
Bald head
Bare chest
Long skirt
Hiding
Reaching for your individuality
Trust me dear
It comes
It comes in the reaching

Comes in the living the very every day
Keep living
Head high
Back strong

They don't know you
Like I do
All eyes on you
Judging pointing fingers
How do you serve God
When do you pray
Telling you what words are right to say

Keep standing Queen
I hate that sometimes
Queen
Don't you

You didn't ask for the rise
You worked hard and it
Was given to you
I am just freewriting

Don't mind me
I am just happy to
See you

Being still
Getting to know yourself
In the quiet
Next to the light

Troy Anthony Davis

My heart is so heavy with this. I am sad for all of us. I am sad for those who rejoice in this man's death. It hurts deeply that we would kill a man with no evidence. Justice should look different from this. Justice should be sure. If it will not be fair, as its name suggests, it should at least be sure. I ache for you who felt like this is someone else's problem. I am sorry for those of you who feel like the battle is over.

I am not ready to write this poem
this free write
this free style
this sad story

about us
and Georgia
and death
and this is about all of us
whether we see ourselves in him or not
whether we believe in the system or not

Troy Anthony Davis
Troy Anthony Davis
no matter how many times you say his name
his body is dead

it is hard to believe in a system like this
killing a man under the law
lack of evidence
and truth
and trust

color lines and class lines
and lines I can't see
you wouldn't do this to your own
you wouldn't
not like this
not like this

not without absolute
not without knowing

Freewrite about the high school girl stabbed to death by her high school boyfriend

watching the news this hurts this freewrite hurts to write she was only in high school he was only in high school she was too young to die too young to be in a relationship where she would be stabbed to death by her boyfriend too much too much and what is going on

emotions are heavy and no one can watch this without feeling something no one can she is dead and she was stabbed and what happened what happened there are so many questions and where are the answers

Can't turn away from the news but there is too much too sad to watch

i am too old or too emotional or too sensitive or too hormonal or too much too something for the news tonight and i cant turn away and i dont have the energy to write a real poem so this freewrite is all that you get and all i will give myself and one story after the next is heavier than the last

one high school girl is stabbed to death by her high school boyfriend and i feel sorry for them both yes him too yes his family too and this is a lot then another woman is on the freeway and her truck turns over and catches fire and people rush out and put the fire out on her burning body with the shirts off of their backs and she lived but her nine year old daughter is dead trapped in the truck and who can hear that after the girl was stabbed to death

then a high school cheerleader died at a game just dropped dead and why and nobody knows and what can we do about all of this

i cant turn away because i might miss one more thing and i hope that there are no more things tonight but there are always more things

and now it doesnt matter that the weatherman says that sunday will be beautiful and couldnt he have found another word because what about the parents of the dead cheerleader and she will not think tomorrow is beautiful because she has a funeral to prepare for and she didnt count on this

and it is not the weathermans fault but isnt it easier when it is someones fault and thank God for words and blogs and poetry even though this isnt much of a poem just words ok just words instead of tears about the dead cheerleader and girl stabbed by her boyfriend and who knows what else there is that they are not telling us about

and suddenly i am so sensitive to everything and why and when did this happen and is this what happens when your period stops and where there was blood now there are all of these tears and softspots in your heart for people you dont know and cravings for two tacos for one dollar at jack in the box

and there arent people you dont know because they are all me and i am all of them and tv is stupid and thank the joy of life for not having to make this entry of whatever it is make sense to you

you get it or you dont you feel it or you wont and now they are talking about saving the sea lion on the street so maybe that means that there are no more dead cheerleaders or stabbed high school girls but then they mention two cops that were killed and why did they talk about the cops after the sea lion and shouldnt the cops matter more than a sea lion caught on the street and how did he get there anyway

5335 are the lottery numbers if you care at all about the lottery in california

#maybeillneverunderstand

Friends

Me and him never was really all that close
Guess cos I never was really all that cute
But Talanda
She was more
Been friends 60 years now and I won't try to
Splain her kinda special
But that what I called her
More

Cos she was more than the better what
Thought they was something round there
Only thang
She thought bein more meant
She had to put up with bottom

So quite natural like
She married the biggest asshole she could find
Who fucked up real life with bullshit on the daily
I guess on the other side of thangs he was more too
Hell...he was the most

Yeah I did everything I could to stop that weddin
Cos I just knew
Hell...a monkey knew

Yeah I was one playerhatin, cock blockin,
Jealous at the same time
Protectin best friend

I know what you thankin

Here anotha story about anotha brotha don
Don anotha sista wrong
Not this time...not from me

Yeah he had everything to do with the
Technical parts of her death
But dammit now she did it to herself
May as well gon call a lie a lie and let the livin live
What I always says

I told her time over time

Talanda a womans gotta love herself

Enough to love herself all by herself
If she got to

You gotta go
Cos yous a dead woman in this house

Every time I tell her she just look at me cross
And tell me shame on me for not
Showin family respect
See I never did tell nobody but Talanda
But me and him is first cousins on my daddy side
But that don't never no mind to me

Woman is thicker than blood

Always has been

Besides...Talanda was my friend
My very good friend

Now I need yall to scuse me
But I had to tell yall that
Before I could begin this story right

I saw her blood all over me before he even shot her

For years she put up with senseless beatins
And name callins
Some gamblins
And cheatins was a given cos it was the time we lived in
Time we livin in now
So quite right he was a liar too
To this day I'll never know why he bothered with that
The truth was right there in his drawers
And she washed them out every night for
Forty and nine years
But habit is habit I guess

I was sittin right there where you are
He was over there about ten feet from us
And Talanda was standin above me to my left
Course the room was facin a different way

She and I had been in the house alone at first
She was still prancing around in the dress she
Bought that day

I didn't too much care for it
But I was glad to see her proud
With her head up finally
Some strength about herself

Talanda was a tall woman about 5'9"
Thin too about 125
Cute little shape though
Lil ole waise and ok breasts and hips for a
Woman our age
Course she never did have no kids she was
Allowed to keep

The dress was red
Not really blood red

But I bet it usta be when it was new
In good shape though

It had small small blue and yellow flowers or
Somethin all over it
A long dress
With red buttons goin all the way down
Cept the one at the waist didn't match
Not by design though
Like somebody did best they could to
Replace it fore they passed it on

It had short sleeves
A swoop neck collar
An elastic band on the back
Rayon?
Rayon.

Yes indeed...she was somebody new in that dress
Somebody I didn't even know
And I knowed her a long time

She bought the dress from a second hand store
And I like to believe that the woman who
Owned it first
Was some kinda kin to her
And was sending her some kinda message
Some kinda strength through the dress

Me...I was just sittin there drinkin wine

I keeps me a short dog in my purse you know

Then he come in pushin right past us like he
High offa something
Walk straight to the room mumblin
Something loud don't nobody know

The woman I usta know would be shakin in
Her slippers by now
But this new Talanda with the dress...

Didn't pay him a bit a mind
And I told you
I had a little ripple in me

So I starts laughin at him
And what I do that for

I shol wish she had left him like I told her
Like she knew she wanted to
Just scared is all

Once I even offered her five thousand dollars
Of my own funeral money
Because I will have me a very nice funeral
With a fine cherry wood casket
And plenty of spensive wine to go around you know

I offered her the money to jus go
Go somewhere far away
Somewhere and have a better life for the both us
I shol wish she took it

He come home marchin in the room with all
His man on
And goes over and slaps Talanda in the face
Real hard too

I have told you that
Talanda was my very good friend
But I spent almost my whole life in the
Middle of her and him

You can't see it but
Right here under my right breast where he
Cut me once
Tryin to kill her

For a while I thought I had done something
Honorable like
But aint kno honor in riskin yo own life
For a woman looking to sit on the death train anyway
Leastways aint looking to stop it for coming

And I gots kids!
Um ummmmmmmmmmm
I told her after that
That as the last time
And like my daddy says

I keeps my word like I keeps my money

I kept right on laughin too

He slapped her again
This time she look at me
Like I'm the one crazy
Like I'm the one spent my life up under
Somebody call me ugly
And do me wrong

Come to think of it
I kinda got mad at ther for looking at me that way
And I started to get up and get in both they faces
But I didn't
I sought right down there and didn't say a word

You would think that would be enough
Then from nowhere he is holdin a gun to her head
Looking straight at me and says

Laugh again and I'll kill yo friend

And dancing wit it too
Like its some kinda jump rope song
I just didn't know which to do
Until I looked at Talanda in that dress

I thought about the woman who was her
Great grandmother
Who maybe usta own the dress

Holdin her real strong and real proud

And I thought...one day he is gonna die
And it woull shol be nice if he meets her in
That other world
While she is wearin that dress
So she could whip his natural ass good

Then I looks up at him
And I laughs the meanest coldbloodnest
Laugh I could muster

I laughed for what she was gon do to him one day
And if she was gonna die
Cos everybody is
Then she was gonna die in that dress
I would see to it

Like I have already told you
Talanda was my good friend

And I laughed and laughed
Laughed right through the gunshot
Laughed while she fell slow in my lap
I didn't stop laughin
I laughed when he dropped the gun
I laughed when he walked out the house

I carried her bloody body to my car
Drove her to my house
And buried her in my own backyard

And every year on September the twenty third
I sits on his porch with a candle all lits up
And every hear when his new wife askes
What I'm doin
I looks up at the sky and says sadly and
Happy at the same time

I'm laughin

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Take us back

it was the moaning mostly
the whispered guttural base
escaped pursed lips and Sunday pink lipstick
that groan from underneath belly
granted go ahead to
say it sistah!
preach pastah!

hallelujah shouts from peppermint breath
knocked cracked leather black pumps
holding swollen ankles on wooden floors
tight fists
closed eyes
tears falling slow

bread of heaven, bread of heaven
feed me till I want no more

I remember you, Grandmama
we honor you, Auntie

negro women not hooked on simple words
like fair, justice, right
negro women who could out walk a lie on broken toes
courageous women who got a prayer through breathing a breath
deeper than the last

we come from these women
spread noses, wide feet
carry the world shoulders like theirs
lest we forget and think we carried ourselves

those are our mothers
with backwoods grammar and perfect memory

we need you now, Grandmama
our fine homes are poisen
without your wrinkled fingers
folded for breakfast prayer

there was something about
your Jesus, your John Kennedy, your Martin King
glued to dusty wood mantle
over stale candy and crystal glass bowl

your God who had the whole world in His hands in His hands
was too big to argue love, death, resurrection

Big Mama, we call on you now
forgive us please our education
our money
our everything we think we know
too good for your pork chop, your hymn book, your hot comb

put your feet in our laps, great warrior
let us massage your boiled blood
and blistered backs
we are listening, queen
all the time we heard your songs
but not really

let witch hazel leak between your fingers
rub our temples
sing your songs again
we are wiser now
those spirituals we ignored
sing them to us again
see mother? see?
our arms are not smooth like before
we have our own battle wounds now
we can hear you now
sing with you now

take us back
take us back
fo we can be baptized
again

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The dance of quiet space

there are women in my head
bold church hat wearing soldiers
connected to Source
and all Her creations
connected by promise

women who are clear
that beauty is more than looking good
deeper than smelling like roses and jasmine
more tedious than press n curls and pedicures

these women
these earth warriors
make life look easy
these seeing women
with word from the Lord
these big boned women
bumped from the pulpit
excused from his counsels
made small in the gospel

these big footed women
more dangerous than their fears
using their voices
as weapon as sheild as balm

these straight talkin' women
chocolate of every hue
change the tapes in my head
when i replay the sore spots of my past
longer than the lesson

they lead me, these humming women
to new language
new perspective
other stories

they dress me in their reds, their blues
sing me in their arethas
their big mama thortons
their Jesus keep me near Thy cross
scarves from their grandmothers
prayers from their closets

i am ready

i hear these women of God
whispering in my blood flow
see them translucent on the streets
behind the babies
comforting the homeless
between their breasts

i dance with them
when i am weak
they stand my legs
stregthen my tongue
still my spirit
quicken my gait
steady my breath
remind me
to listen

Questions

what will it matter
a hundred years from now
if women poets, writers, preachers
are not talking about
what matters to women
what matters to the world

what will be the difference
in the way the world relates to women
the difference in what we feel
our bodies, our spirit
in how we treat our children
our teachers, our political and spiritual leaders

will our voices have made a difference

will our kindness have mattered
will our silence have proven to be best choice
will what we didn't say be the death of us

what will our great strengths have been
what are we saying with our words, our actions
what are we saying and agreeing to
about ourselves

what are our boundaries
who are we allowing to cross them
and why
how are we spending our
time, money, energy

what will our last words be
and to whom

what kinds of lives are we living
what questions are we asking
and to whom

what are our hobbies, our outlets
what does the body of our work say
about us

Before session one

parked across the street
in the mall parking on
a rainy day in front of
sephora

because i am two hours
early for session one
and am tempted to spend
this money on make up

and sephora is always
having some kind of sale
and it is a problem that
i am weighing my health
against a tube of
lipstick and face powder

and isnt it ironic that i
am tempted with make up

as if i need another covering
to pretend that all of this
is ok

Psy chic 101

i was on the bus stop on
crenshaw and wilshire
when a young woman pulled
in front of me and stopped
at the red light

she told me that she would
give me a free reading because
i had some strong energy

i told her
baby you dont even
have enough time

Thank you

because I am laughing again
drinking wine again
for the fun again

because woman talk is easy with you
remembering is easy with you

thank you for stories and cheese
and olives and yesterday slide shows
made clearer
set free

thank you for
conversations created over
braids being set free
let loose
let go

for connections and
the truth
finally
the truth

Release

there are easier friends to have than i
i suppose
more comfortable women to be around
i guess
there is always a younger booty
flatter stomach
more money
better job out there
i reckon

but hearts like mine come few
i know

i will not take on your load of fear and blame
i will find the freedom i need to make peace
with whats so right now

there is too much talk about
what i dont have
cant do
the ecomony and who will be president next

scarcity is a big lie you know
and so i will let you and the others in your ear
live it by yourselves

i was tired anyway
of juggling ponies
and swallowing fireswords
only to your side eyeing
and teetering of your hand
to suggest my missing the mark again

it would be too uncomplicated
for me to play your victim now
i am older than that
i am bigger than you

i was broken when we met
running from some yesterday
and needed a soft place to land
for a time i thought you were that place

and you pretended to be

but the wind from all that running
left me deaf
to red flags waving
and sirens shreeking

i told Spirit i was grown
and i saw what i wanted to see

and She let me

and you did too

so here i am
declaring myself
the source of my own problem
not just you
the yesterdays i ran from
before

i am every liar, cheater, abuser, thief
who has ever sat at my table
drank water from my cup
kissed me between my thighs

and i delete myself
from my molecular structure
and when i forget
the delete button
will be there
again

Daddy

when the phone rang early like that
i already knew
it was mama and she was cryin
then i knew for sure

"hes...hes..."
he dead huh
cause why put her through
sayin all the words

"you ok?"

yeah im ok

but my daddy was dead
and ask me
i wasnt finished needin a daddy yet
grown as i am and all, but still...
wasnt finished needin some man to say
he was always gon love me and
mean it for real

i called him to tell him
my daddy was dead
and first thing he ax was
did i want him to come over
course i want him to come over
and i said so too
but the quiet lasted too long
so i said no

no you stay there
im ok by myself

i hoped he would know i was lyin
since i had known so many of his

but knowin a lie only matter
if you feel like doin somethin about it

i flew back home
and went straight to his room
called tascha fore i even got on the plane

dont let nobody take his gun
i want that gun
thats my gun

i went straight to the room headin for the closet
but stopped at the bed

next to the bed was a picture of me
taped to the wall
wasnt till right then i knew
it would never be the same again
all grown up or not

i walked to the store and stood in line
and why was the store open anyway
didnt they know my daddy was dead
why the world was planes in the air
and kids at the park
wasnt nothin on the news
about him bein dead

wasnt nobody gon never have my picture
taped next to they side of the bed
my only sister got a husband
so how would she know what that feel like
aquiah got a daddy
so how do she know
she dont
they dont

maybe it aint just me
but right now it is
and thats what matter

tammy say dont be feelin so sorry
for myself
i tell her
this is my space to find
love and peace and the freedom i need to be
and anybody dont
give me room to feel how i wanna feel
in my own space should just go

they should just go
and take they jackets with em

Still haiku

something about the
quiet late night that reminds
me to always remember

My bad haiku

remember when i
said i would always love you
i dont anymore

Freedom haiku

my name is Jaha
Zainabu and I was
sleeping with evil

For Colored Girls

my mom
my sister
me
my nine year old niece
we were there
in line for the 12:50 show
long beach
to see the movie

i saw the play
too long ago
wonder what tyler gon do
what he think he know about
ntozake shange
one of my favorite poets

we walk in and theatre filled
black women
young girls
hip chicks
colored girls

zayikah was there with her daughter kashima
we reach through locks
hug necks and see ourselves
in each others gray temples

i was there up on that screen
i am those issues
those fears
i am that beauty
that fire

that eagerness to love
that rock around my heart

that mouth
that shut up oh please shut up mouth

that silence
that speak up oh say something right now silence

i sat there
no popcorn no soda
closed my eyes
when he dropped the babies

i know that dedication to foolishness
gave him excuses he never deserved
i got them shoulders too
them carry the world shoulders
always gotta mama somebody

got that forgive him
take him back too many times
no good
dont trust myself enough

that was me up there
takin myself back
letting him go
him go
him go
reconnecting myself to myself
myself to myself

we clap during the credits
when we hear nina simone sing
i wear all the colors
as i step into the restroom
hear colored girls confess their issues
black women
long line
we dont mind

all colored girls
we ask each other
how you like the movie
the movie
we dont ask what movie

the movie
we all know

we are those colored girls
reconnecting ourselves to ourselves
ourselves to each other
ourselves to ourselves

Love after time

Sometimes it’s in the I love yous not said
The noises you make that drive me mad
During sex
Over food
While sleeping
It’s the comfortable familiar of a fart
Uncensored
Not apologized for
Because a fart between lovers is
Not nothing
But something
That says
Welcome to the inside
Of who I am
The good the bad
But lovers know that there is no good no bad
Just love that gets closer and bigger
And comes this close to
Swallowing the other in
Bitsy pieces at a time

Sometimes I am uncomfortable and afraid
But then who is not
Sometimes I want to run far away from this
Whatever it is
Because caring about you takes too much time
(this is an old poem)
Too much energy
And it’s too much hard
To not love you
When you fart

Trees

The leaves are changing colors
Green red orange yellow brown
I stand at my window
I cannot stop staring

The leaves are not this color
In Los Angeles
Not this color
Not in the jungle
Not on Adams or Crenshaw
Not on Pico or LaBrea

But right here right now
They are red orange yellow
I stand in front of my mirror
I am changing colors

I have become a tree
A Georgia tree
There are spots of gray at my temples
Brown on my teeth
Charcoal under my eyes
Red clay in my toes
Green in my eyes
Breeze on my tongue

I have become a tree
Where birds nest
And fly away
Where dogs piss
And make their mark
Where God whispers
The angels gather

It is raining now
And that is ok
Because I am a tree
We are made to stand tall through rain
Changing colors
Housing squirrels

It is raining now
And that is ok
The sun will shine
And I will still be a tree

A taller tree
Shading lovers
Forgiving the fearful

I was not this color in Los Angeles
Not in the jungle
Not on Adams or Pico
Not on Western or Slauson
And not on Degnan

And I am still the same tree
Taller
Older
Deeper
More colorful tree

What a wonder

You are wonderful
speaking softly to me
in the middle of the night
when i thought i would never sleep
You took away every worry
melted each concern

what wonderful grace
on my journey throughout the day
always a way where i could see no way
i rest and walk assured now
knowing that we are never separated

i applaud You
glorify and magnify
the Is ness of You
only You
always You

You remember to remind me
that i am made of You
my words are not big enough to describe You
not grand enough to sing Your name
I know You
You know me
You breathe Your life in me

I meditate in You
live my life in You

Your judgments

Being a feminist does not mean man hater and a black power fist does not mean white hater.

The thing about writing

Is to sit in the seat
One comfortable for you
I am best at the Lavenderia
On Pico
Just before noon

Something about Los Angeles, Pico, the smell of detergent, noon
That is when my stories come
You find your own
But find them

The thing about writing
Is to tell the truth
Even / especially when it
Doesn’t make you look good
There is no truth about any human being
Without the ugly of it somewhere

The thing about writing is
The story
Spin
Soak
Rinse
Dry

And so what about your looking good anyway
When there is
The story
The tapestry of lines and letters
Words that form
World

Something we can hold on to
Grow from
Re member
Remember
Add soap to and
Wear again

Give me something I can
Connect to
And tell someone else to help her heal
Him heal
What good is your story if it only massages
Your ego / your pocket
So what about yourself

There are others in the world you know
Loving / living / breathing / taking up space on this planet too
You know

Painting, writing, washing
Trying to make ourselves new

I don’t care about your erotic poetry
I don’t want you to make me moan all night
I don’t want to bend in positions
That make me scream for you
Calling your name
So what about your name

I want you to feed me words
Real words I can remember and love
Wrap up in and sop my ugliest tears

Words that don’t wash out

In laundry, on Pico, before noon

She dance

and dont even care if they watchin
cause she dance just for the groove
just cause
God gave her two shoes

if you knew better
then you would dance too

Seasons change

Spring
Your lips next to mine
Your stories made me laugh
I let myself cry
Let myself let go
Let you

Winter
With my poetry
With my words
My music
Myself
Again

I like this me
Too
Again

Writer's prayer

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
Somebody please spell check my blog

Amen

My poetry

my poetry is los angeles
traffic jams and cars goin'
too fast over speed bumps
old school chevys and
crenshaw blvd on sunday nights

about poetry houses
the world stage
da poetry lounge
mic and dim lights
my poetry is jazz in leimert park
5th st dicks
chamomile tea, the moon, and microwaved tv dinners

my poetry is red wine and always
so good food at nailah's
and we let it all out

210 bus
pico
venice beach
pawn shops
gangsta rap

sistas talkin loud
say hell naw and mean it too
brothas hustlin on both sides
of the law
and we eatin the best way we can

my poetry is therapy
like in the middle of the night
i know i can say it all in
a stanza
a page
a chapbook

like the old folks say
it's better out than in
and this is how i get mine out

frustrations
fears
fantasies
prayers
desires
dreams

my journals know it all
they know it all

Out

getting it all out is the most good i
can do for myself
all out in bitsy pieces at a time
slowly in the wee hours of dark
one stanza at a time
word by word i release
stories
lies
pains
joys

paragraph by paragraph
i let go
to make room
for love
to make room
for me

New

sunday morning phone call
breakfast at cj's
walk on venice beach
drive down the 405
stories about you
stories about me
back into the city
taking it slow
slow

Writing day

it's writing day
my hand is getting cramped
my fingers sore
but i am not finished

there is more inside my head
more memories
more thoughts
more musings
even more songs to share

the music stopped
all of those cds
all of those songs
the music just stopped

and that is ok
because it's writing day
and i wasn't writing to the music anyway

only to the cacaphony
of poems in my head
the dreams while i sleep
the sound the merlot makes
sneaking down my throat
into my stomach
connecting with bread
with cheese

Their nobody's business love

He sold drugs
People bought and used them
He loved her
She loved him too
He cheated
She cheated

She sold sex
People bought it
She wanted him
He wanted her

Two bedroom apartment in the city
One room for their stuff
One room for their love

He sold drugs
She sold sex
Together

Later
It got to be
More complicated
Than that

Dead stories

if you know, then you already know
if you don't know, then you don't need to know
unless you need to know, and most likely you don't

(dedicated to stories of my past that do not serve the good of the world)

School ways

I am not ready to write a poem
about children being shot in schools
on playgrounds with teachers
by other students

never prepared for evening reports
flashing bodies, laying babies
crying fathers
broken circles

this is not easy

there aren't enough candles
with pictures of Jesus and Mary
to illuminate my understanding

I am a poet
this is my job

Report the news

Hearfelt

I've grown up from then
from the girl who couldn't see past
her own hurt feelings
past her broken ness

I'm bigger than before
wiser than my yesterday
I am new from mistakes I made

My heart is bigger now
See?
There is so much room for love inside of me
I have no coversation for
What you did
What I said
What you took
How I left

There is only now
This moment
This path I'm on
This foot in front of me
This one
in front of this one
in front of this one again

Over and over until
I have covered the planet
with every essence of love
I have to give

This breathing is better
Don't you think?

Seeing love everywhere today

speaking love
to you
about you
to me
about me

seeing love
in you
all of you
in me
all of me

all day

This new chapter

this is the next chapter of the journey
the next foot in front of the other
inhale new air
let go fears

create my world
from nothing
from no past
no yesterday

create my world
from creation

there is art all around
photos of this world
this whole world
stories about this world
poems
films
documentaries about this world
this whole world

I am still standing
I am standing new

two feet
God's feet
there is no place that I can be that God is not
no place that God has never been

new now
this chapeter of the journey

Seems like

people act out in our lives
according to our core conversations about them
our inner conversations about relationships
keep creating our relationships
keep destroying our relationships

if what we say
in the deep recesses of our minds
is that men lie, cheat, leave
then why are we surprised each time

if we keep telling ourselves
that women are
greedy, selfish, takers
why are we angry
again

what are we saying
about ourselves
right now
to show up in someone else's life
tomorrow

Because we don't

ask for what we want
give away what we think we need
care
love
forgive
remember
forget
let go
hold on
lift up
connect

On love

I wonder sometimes about love
The easy and hurdles
The where and how comes
Baggage and free space
I remember
I remember it all
I'm still standing
I'm still strong

He said. She said.

He: $.)(!!!!!!!!!$!!!!$$$!!!!!!!

She: Your hatred of me is killing you.

Those preaching women

Those preaching women
Dangerous in their courage
Standing in the face of no agreement
Speaking to an audience of turned heads and whispered mouths

Those preaching women
Praying and baking and reading and fighting

Those remembering women
With backs straight and heads high
Twisted fingers and ashy knees

Those beautiful women
Locks and afros
Blondes and browns
Blacks and reds

Those chocolate of many hued women
Those moving women
Still in the middle of the night
Listening to God's voice
Knowing Her tenor
Swinging to His alto

Those old young women
Wise and words
Building and tearing down bridges
Breaking and repairing bones
Filling the space of broken circles

Those mothers and friends
Aunties and big mammas
Sisters and teachers

Those prophesying women
With word from the Lord
Those scary women
Who know good when they see it
Smell a lie when they taste it
Call a foul when they feel one
Conjure blessing when they need one

These are our beloved preaching praying loving women
Whether we love them or not
Listen or not
Care or not

These are our women always praying
Always connecting
These are our women
Holding life for us
To be

Los Angeles

Chicken asada con verde sauce
Hawthorne
Sunday
Number 40 Metro bus to the end of the line
Taco trucks and flowers for sale on the corner
Cold sodas by the can
No water no ice with that
Six tables small space
Meat stand and market to the right
We all familia

The English speaking Mexican brother
Helps me explain
I want aluminum foil to wrap what's left of my burrito

"It was good"
I rub my stomach
"Too big"
I spread my hands as if I am measuring an infant baby

"Ohhh"
She laughs and hands me the foil
She she smiles at me and thanks me for coming
As if I am visiting another country

"Bye bye" she waves again

As I opened the door to leave
I felt like maybe I was in another country
Burrito as big as a baby
Smiling server who was happy I came
Said bye bye when I left

Now love

When I am not my highest self
I forget to remember you beautiful
I am caught up sometimes
In the in the human of my life

And you are always there
Breathing through the it with me
I never thought of it like this before
Never been mellifluous like this before

You inspire me to be my favorite me
The me I most adore

So remind me lover please
Sometimes when I forget
That you are only here to love me
And I to love you back like that

And why don't you forget?
you always seem connected
To the you you came to be

You are just wind like that, I guess
Better than I will be, I suppose

This is the grown love I was looking for back then
When I ask myself where you been
I remember that you could not show up in my space before
Because I hadnt been who I was looking for
Before

Hot water

In all of the world right now
my favorite place to be is
the Korean spa downtown

Normally I would mention the name and location
because I like specifics in my poetry
but there are no friends
I want to join me here
by accident or intention

When I am here
I am here alone
There are Korean women next to me
watching their Korean shows on the flat screens

They are there
But tey are not at the same time
I come often so they are use to me
To them perhaps
I am here
and I am not at the same time

Mostly I love to go late at night
or early in the morning
when it is quiet
and the water is too hot for most people
but not for me

Well, for me too
but I can get comfortable in hot water
It's a skill I developed early in life
my therapist said

I get used to hot water
It's what has me stay in relationships
longer than I should

The water is scalding
and I am wading around
with Negro spirituals in my head

Until I look up one day
and my skin is crawling off my body
Then I know it's time to go

I sit in the hot tub for as long
as I can stand it
get out and relax in the chairs just above
watch the steam float off my body

I should be able to resist saying
I let off steam
I can't
I am the same corny third grade girl
I always was

Shower time again
I let the hot water hit my back
hard

Dry off and go into the sauna
The steam is good for my skin
I think
Steam is good for my dreams
I think

I can't handle the sauna as long
as I can the hot tub
but I stay as long as I can

Shower again
Wash away the sweat and steam

I get my water my notebook my pencils my ipad
Go to the rest area
where there are the biggest
most comfortable softest most reclinable
lazyboys ever

I begin a new story new prose
The wi fi is free and sometimes
I browse the internet
mostly I write

I don't know if it's the
sweat the steam all the showers
the hot hot water
but I love what's coming out of me
and into my journals

Well, I don't love it all
but there is freedom in the release
freedom in telling the stories

The abortion the miscarriage the breakup
The marriage in my early twenties
to a man too full of rage to listen
to anything outside the nonsense of
his own revolution
and so was I
so we fit
until the water got too hot

My son my nephew and niece
My mother my sister my friends
God
the balance of my life

Poetry art the busses and trains
The planes the clubs
the diners the wine
the music the kiss the rain

It all comes out in the hot tub
the sauna the shower

I do love my life
looking back on all of it
I wouldn't choose to be anyone but me

I love hanging out with myself
Knowing and loving me more every day

I know hot now when I feel it
I don't need another relationship
that makes my skin crawl

I have let off enough steam
Dreamed enough good dreams
to recognize
too hot from far away
and not to go near

In my room

There is a queen sized bed
Gray carpet with white paint
The repairman spilled in the corner
The landlord may or may not replace it

A red and beige cover
I pretend is a rug
Wood chest of drawers
Holding my clothes
On top of it sits my makeup and jewelry

There is a dark wook bookcase
Holding my books
Pictures of my son
Nephew and niece
My mother
My father's obituary

My journals of dreams and
Everyone I need to forgive

There is no door on my closet
I like it that way

My shoes are lined up perfectly
Coats and sweaters hanginig
Art supplies on the top shelf
Laundry basket on the floor

There is a dresser
With more clothes and winter scarves
On top of it
A mirror
A rock I found somewhere years ago
It follows me everywhere now
A painting of a beautiful woman
With a yellow flower in her hair
And words on her chest that read
Pray until something happens

Stories outside

I sleep with my window open
Even when it's cold
I like to hear the sounds
The noise outside
Stories beneath me

When I saw the place the first time
The landlord said
It's usually real quiet
Just like this

That's ok
I told him
I'll take it anyway

Write now

Stories stories everywhere
Nothing more to say

Shopping

He said he wanted to take me shopping
I jumped in the car
'Cause I do want a few things
I told him

Where ever you wanna go
He said

Thank you
Go straight and turn left at the light

Right here?

Yeah, right here

Ohhhhh, yeaaaa baby!

I know, right!
Where you going?
No, the art supply store
NEXT to Victoria's Secrets

Amil about Shaka

Naw, it got all messed up. You didn't hear? No, he aint there no more, he locked up. Yep. You know he was homeless for like six months or some shit like that right? Yep. No, he wan't stayin' with her. She just let him take a shower sometime. He was sleepin' downtown somewhere. I dropped him off down there three fo times maself.

He started messin' 'round with Olivia and then she let him move in with her. She shoulda known that was gon go bad. Everybody else could see it I don't know why she caint. Some women so desperate to have a man they don't be thinkin' straight.

You know Melvin was trippin'. His mama messin' 'round with a man he know aint no good for her. But he know she grown an' aint nothin' he can really do about it. You caint tell her nothin'. You know how yall women is.

Melvin come by one night and they was arguin' and Melvin say it look like Shaka was gon hit Olivia. Even Olivia say he wasn't finna hit her but Melvin see what he see you know. Ax me, Shaka whatn't gon hit her. Melvin just want a reason to start somethin' with em.

But he say to this day he saw him step up on her and was gon hit her.Iss kinda a coincidence though, don't you thank? The minute Melvin come in that's when Shaka was gon hit her? I don't know. Don't nobody know but them three.

Anyway, then Shak and Melvin git into it and Melvin git all pissed off at Olivia 'cause she yellin' at him and tellin' him to git out they house and mind his own business. Course that don't do nothin' but make Melvin act even crazier 'cause his mama choose this dude over him.

Shak say Melvin was the one that was finna hit Olivia so he went and got his gun out the garage. He say he tole Melvin to juss leave so it won't be no more mess. Melivin slammin' shit on the floor an' pullin' pictures down off the wall. Shak and Olivia screamin' at him to leave, then he threw a vase that almost hit Liv in the head. Then Shaka shot him. Course the police come out and Shak had warrants and shit.

Melvin better be glad it was Shak, 'cause I wouldna juss hurt em. Iss all messed up. Shak still in jail and Melvin layin' up in the hospital eatin' jello or some shit and Olivia by herself again.

Johnny had green eyes (from journal entry 3-22-94)

jane and johnny was the cutest couple on the westside
that's where i lived
janes brother worked at the corner store an' he usta give us free stuff
sometimes like noworlaters and sunflower seeds and pickels

jane and johnny always was holdin'hands an when everybody
was around he would kiss her on the lips and hit her on the butt an' laugh
i know she was mad but she aint never said nothin'
all us knew johnny had his faults but all us knew that
beyond all them was the johnny loved jane

what none of us includin' jane aint never been really able to sit right with was that
johnny had green eyes

he was the coolest boy in school the baaadest dresser
he could play basketball an' he had a little smarts too
but johnny had them damn green eyes
that nobody could stand

johnny didn't hang around with none of the other boys our age
'cause they still played tetherball an' blocked off the streets
on summer saturdays to have relay races
an' the girls was cheerleadin' on granddaddy's grass
johnny hung around with his brothers n nim
but jane knew all the cheers and she could shake it to the east
and shake it to the west
better n any us cold
but johnny had green eyes

then one saturday mornin' after angelas slumber party
we all was eatin' grits and eggs and angela's mama an' auntie
was in the room whisperin'
then her mama came out fake smilin' with tears in her eyes
she said she read some sorrowful news in the paper this morning
she said whycome all these kids gots ta carry these guns
an' where they gitten 'em from anyway
an' she tole us if she every caught us wit' one she would
beat our tales with it

the she tole us they found johnny and janes body in the park
and johnny was holdin' a pistol
all us was sad but aint none of us cried
seem like we knew somethin' the grown folk aint know

paper said that johnny shot jane and then pulled the trigger on himself
but all us knew whatnt no gun what killed jane
it was johnny's green eyes

(4-30-11 Glad I found this poem because it was a real experience and I would like to edit it -greatly- and use it again)

Excerpt from my novella THE NIKEL

Chapter 2

The melodic sound of the rain early early that morning fell on the trees, the roof, against the window, made Obrey think of the rabbit. The crackling thunder brought the desire for warm strong arms around her body and the smell of the empty merlot glass at the side of her bed made it even more tempting. Unlike the strong arms, the pink rabbit was always there. Always. Whether she was moody or not, shaved her legs and armpits and painted her nails or not, had done fifty sit ups the night before or not. It called from the cherry wood nightstand with three deep drawers and a lock that held her journals, secrets, bills, prayers, sketches, receipts, taxes, taxes! She rolled over and pulled open the top drawer and wondered where her favorite vibrator could be, then remembered that she threw it away with the box of silk and cotton scarves Amad had given her. On birthdays, Christmases, New Years Days, apology days, just because days.

She was angry and he would pay. She couldn't remember what the fight was about that day. Or was it a fight? No. It wasn't a fight. Not a fight at all. It was a message. Clear, straight from the trees. Stop fucking with him. Of course messages from Spirit had never come so crass before and maybe this was not from above after all. Still, she would momentairly obey. Who needed him? Red ones, blue ones, white ones. Not the white ones. The white ones too. They were her favorite of all the scarves he had given her because they reminded her of her mother. But they had to go in the box and even the rabbit. Yes, even the rabbit because this was serious and she needed to teach him a lesson. Obrey needed to show him that she didn't want him. Needed to show herself. But that was then. And on that night when she wasn't angry anymore, but missed him in her bed, wanted him there, wanted to talk, wanted to talk and not talk and make up, the rabbit was gone too.

Deja

my niece lives basketball
softball
soccer

she loves to play
in a crowd of Mexican boys
she is the brown shinned
black girl whizzing by
with ball at foot

braided black hair
small mouse face
holding brown wide eyes
eager to know

are we there yet

star of every show
pink tights
cloth boots
bows and head bands
belts and bell bottoms

she dance to whatever tune you play
aint got no shame about it
no matter the crowd

breathes beyond the fear
at any fight
stands a foot under her brother
but taller than any tree you name

long legs
hoop dreams

Deja is a river

racing through
grades
sports plays
Sundays

she spins, turns and skates
grass
flowers
houses
birds
she swoop through the street so fast

Deja is the sun

laughing at the wind
crying with the worms

park
beach
school
church
home
sky
thunder
unicorn
fairy

this world is small
Deja can hold this globe
betwen the space
in her teeth

we better hope
she don't bite down one day

we can learn something from Deja

how to play
when to cry
why to laugh
always to forgive

loving to be

Sad face me

Norway
Amy Winehouse
guns
hate
art
gone
same
breath
crying
help
me
swim

The day I saw a man haint

She went down there anyways. I tole her not to go. With all the mangos spread over the floor like they was she shoulda undastood like I undastood but she say aint no haint gon tell her who to love and be happy with and who not to.

Ax me a haint know more than me an' her both know put together. I saw him when he slapped the lemons on the ground and the mangos fell. Yes you heard me right. It was a him! And I saw him with my own eyes. I tole Mama an' she tole me to come on in an' take a cold shower an' rub blessed oil on my body so don' nothin' happen to me.

You know it's true don't you? If you see a woman haint with long hair and a hat on then she just comin' to explain a dream to you that you cain't undastan' or she gon tell you some good numbers or special colors to paint your front door or something that's kinda good.

If she don't have no hat on and she got short hair then it mean that somebody is tryina do you harm an' she a tell you who it is and what to do.

Carole Ann say she saw a haint one time that was a woman who had one long pigtail and one short one and she was wearin' paints and no shirt but I don' believe that. Mama say Carole Ann family always was a fib.

But now if you see a man haint then you gotta listen to everything he say and do it word for word. Then you gotta go home and take a shower and smooth yoself in blessed oil to help you remember or something will happen to you. Don't nobody know for sure if it's something bad or super bad because everybody always do like the man haint say.

Man haints don't usually show theyselfs but if anybody see one then they real real lucky. I saw one. He didn't come to see me. But I saw him just the same. Me and Lacy Grace was runnin' 'round Mr. Peter's market. We was just runnin', runnin', runnin'. He tole us to stop all that runnin' but we didn't pay him no mind.

Me and Lacy Grace both had turned ten the month before that. She say now that she was two numbers she could wear some grown up lipstick on her face and have a boyfriend if she want to. Her mama didn't say so, but she say so. Lee Robert ax her to come over past the field and meet him by the big trees and give him a kiss since she was old enough to wear lipstick.

I tole her Lee Robert don' know nothin' about tellin' her to meet him nowhere and he just turn ten years old four months before us hisself. She say Lee Robert tole her he love her in Sunday School an' she was gon sneak off an' give him a kiss in the field.

Everybody know that a kiss in the field is badder than a kiss behind the school or the church but she say she wanna field kiss with Lee Robert. Say she was gon leave when we left the market.

That's when we saw the man haint. Only us saw him look straight at Lacy Grace and point his long skinny fingers an' say she bet not go lookin' for no field kiss an' take her tail straight home. Then he slapped the pile of lemons but it was the mangos that fell. Mr. Peters was standin' right there lookin' straight through the man haint but he thought it was me and Lacy Grace knocked 'em all down with our foolishness. But it wasn't our foolishness at all. It was the tall man haint with no hat and no hair. Mr. Peters didn't believe us. He said we both was a fib 'cause ain no man haint gon waste his time comin' way down to see two fasstail girls.

Lacy Grace ran outta there fast as she could and I look Mr. Peters in the face an' I tell him I wasn' no fass girl an' we did too see a man haint. Lacy Grace was already gon toward the field and I took off too. To take my shower and tell Mama.

Blue and Hannah

Hannah is sitting on the pillows spread in the corner of the hard wood floor with her back against the pillow against the beige wall. Long day at work. Long shower after. She is waiting. With vodka and tuna on wheat, light mayo. Onions. Celery. Black 'n' mild on the coffee table in front of her. Daring her to reconnect. Love Jones dvd. Nia Long, Larenz Tate. Vodka.

She sleeps through the scene when Bill Bellamy tells Nia to walk home, 'cause that's nobody's favorite part. Blue's timing is always right. Step, step, step, step sixteen more times then key. Open door.

"There she is."

"Hey you."

Blue is a clock. Jacket off. Close door. Lock door. Shoes. Deep breath. Blue doesn't move with hurry in his feet. But he gets there. Down next to her. Puts her head in the palm of his hand. His chin is the cieling she has been waiting for all day.

"Can we talk?" He has that voice. That voice that swallows time.

"Want me to turn the movie off?"

"No. Not talk talk. Just...say words."