Saturday, April 2, 2011

Anais Nin #GoogleHer

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

If all of us acted in unison as I act individually there would be no wars and no poverty. I have made myself personally responsible for the fate of every human being who has come my way.

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death

Monday, March 21, 2011

spiritual warfare

"sometimes the girl who's always been there for everyone else needs someone to be there for her."

so i peeped this quote on twitter a little while ago. & as corny & clichéd as it is, i ALMOST RT'd it. but i realized that i would just be subtweeting myself in doing so. 
which only magnifies the truth in it.

i've been that girl. for a long time. it's draining dawg. but sometimes you get so locked into that mindset that you refuse to let people that love you take care of you. it's a rough place to be. it's like you're so compassionate towards everyone but yourself. the part of your heart concerned with your own well being is hardened. & you don't even realize that you HAVE to take care of yourself if you want to continue giving yourself to others. 

today a series of thoughts i had been marinating on for quite some time culminated into the most comforting of realizations. i realized that i had never been surrounded by so much God in the form of friends ever in my life. small circle that it is, my friends are constantly praying for me. & because they're so in tune to God, they sometimes know i'm in need before i acknowledge the fact myself. they spoil me. & i pity those who lack similar relationships. see ecclesiastes 4:10.

real friends pray. for you & with you. 

countless times they've prayed for me whenever i needed it from tests to interviews to nervousness before shows to overall random bad days, etc. 
& as if i'm not already amazed by that, there have been times where they've prayed for me without me asking. God would put me on their mind or in their spirit & they would stop & pray for me or message me with encouraging words. that's the most amazing thing i've ever heard of, let alone experienced.

there's something about a friend willing to go to war with you but it's another thing entirely when a friend goes to war for you in your stead. when a friend prays for you, they are engaging in spiritual warfare on your behalf, for your soul. & i'm still really trippin about God putting my life on on the minds of my friends. like for you to pray for me or encourage me before i even know i need it, before i even feel the void... it blows my mind because, like i said in my last post, for a long time i felt like God's favor operated by way of what a person did or didn't deserve. yeah i was dumb. but it's like... God had you thinking of me, of all people??? like who am i that you care for me that much? i'll never know. all i can do is shrug it off because comprehension of such a thing is unattainable.

the other day i mentioned  on twitter that we as people are good at having our friends' backs physically. we're always ready to fight & cut & kill for our brother. but part of being my brother's keeper to me means being there spiritually as well. fighting & cutting & killing for them in the spiritual realm is so much more important i feel. 

so i'm overwhelmed. & mad grateful for friends that fight for me when i don't even realize my spirit is on the brink of war. for friends that remind me that my emotions & thoughts are mine. remind me that i have ownership & dominion over them. that i can pick & choose, that i decide how i feel. mad grateful for friends who are concerned with my life outside of this physical world. 

i encourage you to find solace in meaningful relationships. not just numbers. quality over quantity. demand more from your life even if it means you have to change some things or people you're used to. it's amazingly refreshing, trust me. do right by yourself & make room for God to bring some spiritual warriors your way.   

random realization #4892

my faith & i don't have a very good track record.
i've spent a good deal of my life afraid to pursue things that i knew in my heart i wanted. for a long time i didn't understand God's favor on my life-- why He would see fit to bless me, why He would give me the desires of my heart. i was operating heavily in the mindset that miracles & other seemingly epic things couldn't happen to me-- why should they? what about me deserved good things? more often than not i wouldn't even bother to 'waste my time'  believing for the things that i longed for. i was that insecure in my faith. & God help me if i did go out on a limb and believe Him for something & then not get it? now i can chalk it up to my will not being in line with His but then... then i was just too through-- no more asking & believing, i'll just take whatever He gives me. & of course the ups & downs of school & life & relationships & breakups only fueled this fear, this belief that i wasn't deserving not only of good things, but of good things that last. in fact, relationships played a huge part in this. it seemed like it took sooo long for a good thing to 'happen upon me' & then just when i was getting used to it, it ended. i'd watched everybody around me come into seemingly good things & so logically i wanted to hold on to mine forever. my faith was so nonexistent that i actually feared that loved had escaped me for the first and last time. so from then on out i was scared of being let down, i was scared of the risk it took-- i was living with zero expectancy & now i see that that's definitely not how he wants us to live. i had to get out of the mindset of ME deciding what i did & didn't deserve & get into operating in His favor.
& this JUST happened maybe in the last year or so. the real challenge came when i was faced with this whole poetry thing-- i reached a point where i had to either stepped into & accept or reject the calling i no doubt felt. more insecurity came because i understood the weight & caliber of such a calling-- i felt inadequate as ever. & i still do sometimes as a matter of fact. but it's a daily activity, a daily realization that i'm actually conceited to think that all this is really about me & what i can do & what i deserve-- i realize that this is about the God in me, taking into account my flaws, faults, imperfections, bad habits, insecurity & all the things that make me NOT God. every insecurity i've ever felt in my walk of faith has been a lack of trust in God... now that i really think about it, that's all it is. but what a huge deal it is, was & is trying to become. i have got to step my faith game up in all areas of my life. "if it can happen to anybody, it can happen to me. if it can happen anywhere, it can happen here. & if it can happen at any time, it can happen now." there's no doubting God's favor on my life. & i have to make myself operate in it, daily effort that it is, it's so necessary.
but that's wasn't my intention for this post lol
i intended to say that i'm scared again. but this time for the opposite reason. after all that time spent living with no expectancy i see that things are starting to turn around now that i've changed my faith. now that i'm aligning my will with His, not only are the things i want coming into view, i'm also realizing that the things i want are stemming from what He wants for me. so now these things are becoming real. & i'm afraid because i can actually see these things i was so afraid to ask God for or that i was neither prepared nor ready for before. now i see them on this road that i'm on. God is doing amazing things in my life, He's put amazing people in it-- my life right now is like nothing i've ever seen in spite of everything that i could mention that i'm not exactly happy with or in control of-- God is still good. & He has been this whole time regardless of my own past perceptions.
so yes, i'm afraid. i'm scared.
but i'm thinking maybe... maybe it's just more of a pleasant apprehension :)

Friday, March 18, 2011

a word to the poets

so lowkey prior to the diverse verses meeting the other day, i had been thinking about the group pretty heavily already. i wanted to encourage them some kind of way.  i wanted them to realize what lie in them. & coincidentally we ended up just kinda kickin it with the discussion we had.  i was forced to speak as usual lol but i couldn't get the meeting out of my head-- what was said & the great deal of insight that we got a taste of in that room that night. so here's what i wish i would have said had fear not gripped my heart lol

"inhale/ receive -- exhale/ let go. make sure you're breathing effectively. both literally & metaphorically."
i wanted to first thank the poets. your choosing to write is a simultaneous choice to answer the call on your life. it's clear that you all are gifted & there's no shame in me saying that yes, it's from God.  you've all been blessed with an amazing voice & not only that, you've chosen to use it. accepting the gift is the hardest part. believe me, i fought accepting myself as a writer for the longest time because i felt inadequate.  & even still, i came into this thing with those same feelings of inadequacy which resulted in me carrying this gift like more of a burden rather than a blessing. but i don't see that in you all. the weight of whatever is in your hand is all in how you choose to carry that thing.  

the mantel of a poet/ writer/ griot/ bard/ storyteller/ preacher/ minister/ evangelist/ messenger is indeed a heavy one. so first i want to commend you & thank you for choosing to carry it in the first place. every time you write, every time you spit-- you are answering the call. & secondly i want to encourage you & even charge you to practice the art of breathing.  it is a necessity especially in this sort of calling. there are two facets of breathing-- the inhale & exhale.  i know a lot of the time, we messengers tend to be givers & focus on giving only.  & i'm theee most guilty of that-- we're so used to having a word for everyone else that we forget to apply the message to our own lives. we exhale so much & give so much of ourselves that our lungs collapse & we become drained because we choose not to inhale.  we miss what God has for our own lives because we're so used to providing for others.  so we need to make a conscious effort to inhale in the sense of staying tuned to what God has for us even in our own writing.

exhaling is also important, not only in the sense of sending out a message but also in the sense that we need to expel waste from our hearts & minds. i know personally i'm guilty of ignoring my own thoughts, feelings, stresses all in the name of being a messenger but that is probably the most unhealthy thing we can do for ourselves & for those we try to reach.  when i write or speak about the things that are bothering me or causing me pain, they become real. we know there is great power in the tongue & so sometimes if i don't speak about an issue i'm having it makes it all the more easy to act like it doesn't exist. which is not good lol by any stretch. so with the help of the people around me who love me, i'm working on taking care of myself emotionally so that i can better take care of others. 
so. pretty sure i just lost track of what i was saying.
so. God is love. rev run. 

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

me & pat

so pat & i did this exercise one night #PAUSE. anyheaux lol we did a kinda freestyle poem where we just went in from wherever the other left off via text message & this is what we came up with. it's us alternating & i start off. catch it lol 

me: I loved you in ways you didn't know you deserved

him: I remember how your smile fixed puzzles, putting my heart together was pure practice

me: You had a smile like a nursery rhyme. The warm of my mother’s skin, the seams of my favorite shirt. Between the home in your eyes & the heaven in your heart, I’ve never felt closer to God.

him: The first time I heard your voice my soul exhaled, stripped naked and rested. I felt home.

I was garden of eden naked in the cool of the day. Your love rested on me like warm rays of a God smile, I was well done & unashamed in His eyes.

Unashamed because in your eyes my heart saw its reflection for the first time. And any insecurity was wiped away within a dark brown lens

In your eyes I saw the love my heart deserved all along. A love once blurred by the regret of distance and time. You windshield wiped me back into existence.

I was resurrected into someone just as naïve as before. Knowing there was no need in learning lessons that won’t be put into practice. So that I wouldn’t toe this pool but that I would cannon ball into it.

You took me back to before. When love was as easy as folded notes & answer choices. Black & white like yes or no but since then I’ve discovered a thousand or so alternate pronunciations & definitions. There isn’t just one way to spell out this thing we have but I guess synonyms aren’t so bad after all.  

The protagonist to my story, the muse to my life, taking me higher as the inspiration to a destination that I am blind foldedly following the sound of your presence. The song that plays my worries favorite lullabye and my soul’s theme music.

My heart lies in the symphony of your smile. We have a certain frequency about us that reminds me of life’s purpose, reminds me why I’m doing this. While love is action to some, you & I have made our dwelling in His most imperative of commandments. We love with intention only, with reason & legitimacy & an intimacy that can only be described as 2 puzzle pieces finally discovering where they truly fit in. find comfort in my curvature. & malleable martyr that I am, I will mold to your whim. Let’s be gods & earths again, forge a new me around your ribs that will start this world over again & I will gladly be all the love you never knew you needed.

That's why i love you in ways you didn't know you deserved. because it was how He wrote it. and how he wanted me to be blessed.

attraversiamo l'un l'altro

so i wrote this over the break & the homie mojo hit me up ironically talkin about she had this floetry type idea. #wordup. so she ever so angelically sung jill scott's 'he loves me' while i spit this here. p.s. ignore the numbers & whatnot, they're just cues to myself lol

[[3:13 total to spit]]

[1:32] I love the way your voice tastes when you are smiling.

Love the way you let your words drip with sweet sincerity-- The fruit of your lips, these subjects & predicates are ripe tonight so what’s in a name?

Bring your lips to mine; say it one more time & I bet I can tell you.

Bring your forearm to the small of my back, arrest my body to your own & remind my ribs what it feels like to be a part of you again.

Kiss me on my neck & remind me how fine I am.

See it’s so easy to forget sometimes. I bet eve wishes adam would have kissed her just one more time to make her aware of how fine, how blessed she was before that serpent came to trick her. See these snakes be tryna trick me all up & down the boulevards, tryna convince me I’m missin something that they think they got
But I keep the taste of your words on the tip of my tongue so when I lick my lips to respond I’m reminded of your smile.

[[2:34—instrumental gets breathy, airy]]

Dab the cool of your breath onto the nape of my neck so when the breeze blows just so, your affirmations of amor resemble tempting tongue & teeth in the spaces where my neck & ears meet. Shadow me like an eager intern. Allow your presence to linger on the brink of annoyance—I know you want my job. & believe me, I want you to have it, see I’m tired of taking care of myself, of carrying myself, of being strong all the time
Allow my lips to memorize the form of yours & fill my lungs with words you haven’t even gotten a chance to say see I don’t even know you yet.

But when I’m tempted by these devils wrapped in snakeskin & latex I feel your warmth behind me. Idk what you look or sound like but I know your warmth.

It’s served as a comforter on many a cold night & I know the taste of your voice—a spoonful of sugar to chase even the most bitter of medicinal liquids. You’ve given me the closest of intimacies untainted by messy lust & undue trust

I know I’m a melancholy poet but baby I ain’t really tryna break your heart this time around. See the music’s just right & this rain against my window got me feelin like maybe God dropped the perfect beat for us tonight on purpose

The only thing confusing about this thing we have here is the tangled mess of limbs, this web we weave of where does mine end & yours begin. I’ve always been a skin baby. & I think I recognize the taste of your voice behind that smile in your eyes so come over here. Attraversiamo l’un l’altro. Let’s cross over each other tonight. Bring me that warmth I recall so fondly from perhaps another life, breathe that brown sugar lullaby onto my collarbone this time & remind me just how fine I am… Before it’s too late.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

acquisitions in the near future

1. ipod touch-- i know i'm all the late. shuddup.
2. i'm tryna get tatt'd yo!
3. an old school record player. & records of course.
4. some beats by dre headphones
5. derrick rose. yeah. i'm serious.

... to be continued...

Thursday, March 3, 2011

katrina, the levees broke. part two.

i'm really not much of an extrovert.  i'm a leo/virgo cusp baby so in short, my life doesn't make sense lol i look at both of these signs and i'm pretty much divided straight down the middle.  but lately i find myself relating more to the virgo in me as far as keeping my emotions to myself and things like that.  i'm realizing that i thrive in intimacy.  i feel most comfortable being me in small groups of people, even more when it's a one on one interaction IF we're close. otherwise it's just awkward lol but anyway i've been realizing lately that there's a certain discomfort i feel within groups of people. like even 5 to 6 people depending on who they are.  i literally feel myself pull back and take on the position of the observer.  more often than not, i feel like the more people there are, the more drained i feel.  and this isn't always the case but it has been for the most part.  i don't know what it is or how to better explain it but i can't take too many personalities in at once, it's overwhelming to me.  and i don't know if it's the third eye poet thing and being sensitive to the different vibes different people put out or what but it makes me feel so socially awkward sometimes.  like i feel like i suck at making friends and interacting with people and things like that. it's weird, i know lol but i try so hard to be extroverted and interactive and things and sometimes it works. in fact, a lot of the time, i can pull it off but it's not me usually. maybe it's the performer in me.  who knows.  it's strange though. awkward.  i want to be able to thrive comfortably in both spheres but i haven't gotten there yet.  not quite comfortable in myself yet i guess.
but anyway, i'm rambling.  what i meant to get at with this post is that oddly enough 9 times out of 10, i don't like being alone.  my thoughts become idle, and because i'm a writer, they tend to take me places i don't want to go.  and i know what they say about an idle mind but i haven't mastered control of my thoughts just yet.  as mentioned before, i let this third eye torment me sometimes. almost like i see too much.  i feel too much.  and so i have to make this daily, hourly, moment by moment effort to dedicate my subconscious thinking space to God because i can't handle this here bro.  it's a heavy thing not to be able to trust yourself with your own thoughts dawg.  so not only pray for us writers, pray for all those with any spirit of discernment or sensitivity to the heart of man.  because it's warfare everyday.

katrina, the levees broke. part one.

welp, it has been confirmed-- i am not completely crazy. well at least in this sense-- earlier in our DV meeting, me & prince had a brief sidebar about the burden of being a poet & trying to move through life with this third eye or sixth sense if you will. first and foremost, it's heavy. i mean it's both a blessing and, i won't call it a curse but it's not for the weak hearted. there's a certain sensitivity to the world around you that comes from being a poet.  & sometimes it's so hard to tune into yourself when there are so many other demands on your heart.  & it doesn't even have to be intentional pulling from you or people using you; it's just like a shadow or a thickness in the air you can feel when someone else is hurting or grieving.  it's hard to describe and even harder to carry this calling.  it's almost like having to be responsible and in tune to the welfare of all those around you and so in that... awareness, it gets so easy to lose yourself and your own sense of well being.  it's rough bro.  it's a balancing act to say the least.  and i'm far from steadying the two sides.  in fact, i doubt i'll ever master such a thing; all i can do is keep my mind right and pray i can keep a good hold on God's peace.  the kind that passes all my meager understanding.
in this season i'm learning to take time for me.  to be responsible for me.  be accountable for my own emotions as well as a reservoir for others'.  and in carrying another's burden i absolutely have to be more careful about making it my own so much so that i put more energy towards it than they do.  or that i let it take me over entirely.
lately i've been ignoring myself.  and i haven't been happy.  i've been holding too much the wrong way.  it's put a strain on my heart, my mind and my emotions.  i need to start taking heed to my own words & recognize that sometimes God speaks through ME to ME.  & mad gratitude to the kid boogie for helping me see that.  more often than not i become so comfortable in the discomfort of being on the giving end that i don't receive what God has for me in my own writing.  sometimes i need this third eye to see myself better.  i'm tired of letting this 'gift' torment me.  it's not of God.  demons torment.  i need this writing to take on its angelic form in me again.

Monday, February 28, 2011

'For Colored Girls'

This poem is for adam’s rib/ protectors of life and of the heart of man/ this is for all those years. For colored and light skin and insecure and chocolate and thick girls and too much and not enough and seen but not heard/ this is for you. This is for me.  This is for us.

This is for light skinned girls/ when men assumed that because of your lack of hue, you were see through, a shallow body of water without depth or dimension/ this is for you/ the blue eyed blondes of the black community, I heard light skin is fair skin, but who referees these race games when color complexes cause us to question fair play/ this is for you

This is for the insecure girl who brings countless men into her womb only for them to pull out as boys/ she is unaware that it’s not really about sex, not about being wanted/ she’s just unconsciously trying to raise the boys she births into the men her father could never be/ baby this is for you/ a slave to everyone’s consciousness but her own/ she teeters on schizophrenia simply because she does not recognize her own voice among the many/ be still and listen and see and know that all you must hold onto is you/ this is for you

This is for chocolate girls/ when soap and water and steel wool rubbed vigorously was not enough to remove the unclean negative connotation they said was your skin/ this is for you/ for the victims of those “dark as night” “jokes” because I promise/ not a simile exists for the darkness of lynchings in the night/ there is no metaphor for the contrast between the fire of a burning cross in the foreground of a tar baby midnight sky/ this is for you

This is for the thick girls/ stallions/ thick legs, thicker shells who are sick and tired of getting superficially chose by dudes who synonymize curves with heauxs—pump ya breaks/ her body is holy/ her womb a fertile river estuary, every curve a bend in the great river Jordan/ if only you were invited to swim in its waters/ you are not dirty enough to be purified by her rushing currents- step in unworthily  and you will drown/ lungs fill quickly with the thickest of liquids, quench your thirst with this elixir/ no one woman should have all this power but baby know that you do/ this is for you. For all of you.

so this is for the black women.  Then and now.  who have ever questioned God's love-- His intention, His direction, His presence—I offer this poem to you as some sort of meager reparations for a lifetime of perpetual misunderstanding and misinterpretation. For those times when we couldn’t comprehend the divinity within ourselves let alone live in a way that summoned the rest of this world to do so. See this is a dedication & a call to action. See we are human. So nothing human can be alien to us. We’ve seen the assata shakurs, the michelle obamas, the sojourners, the audre lordes, the maya angelous, Shirley chisolms and angela davis’s. We’ve seen IT happen. there is no excuse for this mediocrity we dwell in. change has come, greatness has been achieved so this if for you. Colored girl. Black woman. Stop waiting for someone to honor you. & honor the divinity within yourself. 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

breathing & breaking...

that's the theme for tonight.
closed eyes.
good music. maybe a slow, heartbreaking ballad. or better, a levee breaking worship song. a serenade unto the Father.
a compilation of worry, fear & doubt exchanged for faith, prayer & trust.
a complete surrender.
all the while tuning into Him & Him only.
i need You now.

Monday, February 21, 2011

i support this #2

i support people finding their passions & doing what makes them genuinely happy, what brings them joy.  because logic to me is-- if i'm happy & doing what i love to do, what i'm passionate about, then i'm going to encourage you to do the same. perpetuating a cycle of purpose & joy. but maybe that's just me. 

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Tribute to Black Arts/ Dedication Piece

Dedicated to the lives Nicolis Williams, Eric McWhorter & Kashief Cross

the hardest part about having a music box heart is deciding which melodies to play/ i long to hold 16 gigs and play every weeping willow ballad ever written, every riff and run of travailing prayer in your garden of gethsemane/ when you asked God to take the pain away, to remove this cup from your hands, i heard you/ and, if i could, i would take every cup from your hand/ take them back like shots of hard liquor, if it meant it would keep you from stumbling through this life in a drunken stupor of struggle/ let me be your drinking buddy/ i will match you shot for shot, treble clefts & half notes of sorrow until my heart is just as full, if not, overflowing-- i was created for this here—the other day, my heart wept for the lives of 3 young men I never had the pleasure of knowing in this life.  They were friends of my sisters’.  I could tell the caliber of men they were by the weight of their tears, I wanted so badly to mend their hearts, to apply pressure to their wounded spirits, hold them until they healed-- I am my sisters’ keeper.  It is my job to unrealistically want to fix everything that was ever broken in them, everything that ever made them feel less than what they were called to be-- we were created to love each other.  Created to build one another up but we don’t.  & therein lies our weakness as a people.  We are too strong in and of ourselves to love ourselves wholly.  We don’t love the skin we’re in & so consequently we find it hard to love those that look just like us.  Because we don’t love ourselves, we women shoot poison darts of jealousy & pride from our eyes then criticize our men for shooting physical bullets of lead & tin not realizing that the loss of trust & esteem between ourselves is synonymous with the loss of a physical life. We play this dark skin light skin game & then quickly blame the man for oppressin us. C’mon here, look at this-- Look at this pot callin this kettle black… We cut ourselves off from each other so easily & insist on doing bad all by ourselves but we just cutting off our own arms & legs.  All this hate is is self-mutilation & so we walk around society crippled, walkin through this life with a limp & sway  tryna get a handout from ppl that look nothing like us. See somewhere along the line somebody told us we weren’t beautiful. Somewhere along the line somebody told us we weren’t capable. They told us we weren’t worthy, told us we were lazy & ignorant & stupid & somewhere along that same line we started to believe them… & somewhere along that line it became our truth… & we began to tell ourselves that untrue truth… & we began to tell others this untrue truth on some “I aint neva gon be nothin & you aint neva gon be nothing either” type foolishness & we believe these lies.

But no… love hasn’t always been this unfamiliar to us, no sir… we have always excelled in love before we got to this place.  If not for love 400 years of slavery would have wiped us out. If not for love we wouldn’t have made it through civil rights sufferings & movements & protests & the fight is still young so where did it go? When they turned those fire hoses on us 40 and 50 years ago did it dilute our hearts? Did it water down our spirits? Did they beat it out of us? Or is this our own doing?  Are we beating it out of ourselves? Do we ciphen a little love out every time we stick a needle into our arms? do we lose it a little every time we sell a dime bag to our brother? Do we draw a little out every time we kill one of our own? Does it seep from our pores just a little every time we think hate towards a brother or sister we’ve never met?  How did we get to this place here? At this point we can blame no other but ourselves. Can I submit to you that this self-hatred & self-loathing we try so hard to cling to is the very thing that is killing us? We are a suicidal people, are we not? I heard somebody say one day that if you want different results you have to change your method of operations, heard em say that the insanity lies in doing the same thing & expecting something different to come about see if we know better then logically we should do better so why don’t we?  We deserve so much more than we allow ourselves. There are too many us dying today for us to wait until tmrw-- We’ve got to love on our brothers & sisters while they are yet able to receive it. Cain killed his brother out of a coldhearted ignorance that allowed him no remorse. Even colder was the attitude of sin that allowed him to make such an inquiry—am I my brother’s keeper?...  & sadly the apple hasn’t fallen very far from the tree.  We are a people desperately in need of reconstruction. Desperately in need of a de-evolution from this barbaric practice of hatred.  Go home & kiss your mother, hug your father, raise our sons more like we raise our daughters- like love is not taboo, tell your brother you love him, hold each other accountable, forgive us of our wrongdoings, & then look in the mirror & wrap your arms around yourself, allow God to smile on us again, let love glow warm on this brown skin of ours. baby can’t  nobody love us like we love ourselves… so if we not gon keep us, I ask you, who will?

GospelFest piece

There is something to be learned from the raw identity of an unedited poem… Something to be said of a newborn covered in afterbirth & insides like an inverted secret that speaks of innocence & of a master’s love & of Lord I’m available, use me-- God has a thing for unfinished pieces… for imperfect beings, for broken vessels & the like so in a world that thrives on excess & too much, there is a God that operates in the counterculture of knowing you are not enough.
She’d been absent for some time... A freelance writer squandering her inherited gift on those undeserving of her words. She was too loose with her anointing. Too reckless with her heart; she’d let too many wade into her waters unworthily & it’d begun to leave a ring around her river jordan insides/ she was a prodigal daughter caught between the world & her father’s home, frozen in time only by her own coldhearted refusal to forgive herself/ she couldn’t see how God could extract the venom that coursed through her veins more naturally than her own blood/ couldn’t see how her past could be immediately reconciled in exchange for a future with him/ not realizing that trying to fathom the heart of God is like trying to fathom gravity… like trying to understand the reason why the stars don’t rain down on us like the wrath of God  on the unjust/ baby you can’t hide behind the mediocrity of your past life forever… /can’t hide behind this gift & chalk it up to your own talent/ at some point you have to step into your role, dive into your calling no matter how hard or unattractive it may be/ no matter how unpopular it may make you & in spite of what they may say, trust me you are worthy to be used/ your transgression can be your testimony if you would only step forward to the witness stand/ I know your heart is heavy… lungs filled with the thick humidity of regret & fear, breath cut short by high altitudes/ but only because you put yourself on too high a pedestal to let God use you/ really who do you think you are?.../ how arrogant do you have to be to believe that your past is insurmountable?/ I understand your pain & how it weighs so heavily  on your soul but how dare you have the audacity to remain stagnant, to regress even, to blatantly refuse to move forward? How dare you deny God the pleasure of blessing your life? After all he’s done for you… you have the nerve to take up residence in the quicksand of grudge & doubt/ I know you’ve found comfort in this immobility… sought solace in this stagnation…/ but just as Jesus called out to Jairus’s daughter—I call out to you & your dormant spirit “talitha koum”… “my child… get up”/ Wash your face & straighten your back/ Break loose the glares & words & fear that held you for so long/ take up your bed & walk/ Shake the dust & debris of bitterness & guilt & failure & heartbreak & death & unbelief/ brush this dirt off of your boots & let the wind carry these burdens where it may-- this heaviness is not of God/I know you’ve been hurt/ I know you’ve been cast-off & handed down but you have to understand that brokenness is not the end of life/ see you can’t build up what hasn’t been broken, the master cannot finish a work that is already done/the people cannot relate to perfection-- He cannot get into a closed heart & so sometimes it has to shatter for his light to reach into those dark places/ move forward into the light & see just how beautiful your broken is…  tear down your walls/ let yourself fracture & fissure & come undone. See God has a thing for unfinished pieces/ your “not enough” is just enough for him, trust me on this one. .. take it from the girl who was so coldhearted she used to bleed venom… my child you are worthy to be used… so I charge you tonight… to get up. What God has for you is indeed for you, in spite of you. Stop trying to complete yourself, before you finish yourself. & remember, God is able to move most freely, in those of us who have already been broken in. 

Thursday, February 3, 2011

random realization #2985

the big difference between social work majors & other majors is that we DO alot.  it's not really a major you can delve into the books and study for.  as opposed to other majors that involve studying and memorization.
it reminds me of the story of when Jesus was at Mary's house & long story short, He said sometimes we just need to sit & study the Master & His work rather than always going out to DO His work. Reflect-- Act-- Reflect. you can't spend too much time in either one because you risk the two extremes-- becoming stagnant in reflection & not doing enough or doing too much. sometimes we get so caught up in doing that we end up being uninformed because we don't take time to learn & study.
p.s. this-- scripture included was apart of our devotion time in social work policy class. that i'm still in right now lol
peace, love & light babies :)

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

A Prayer Before the Journey

God I know in all that I have going on in my personal life, You have a message for someone.  Be it for me or for whomever, I just want to make sure that the people I will inevitably reach, both consciously & indirectly, receive all that You have for them regardless of me. I want to take this time of  quiet & reflection, of writing & listening, of hearkening to Your voice, & tune into You & Your people.  Help me to see the need, give me the words that someone needs to hear.  I pray that my life contributes only in a vessel like manner & that You help me to use my experiences for Your glory & for Your work.  But  please do not allow me to be distracted by these experiences; make the things in my life a light & not a fog around the vision You have for these pieces I'm about to go in on.  Help me to release the issues of my life to You daily & in doing so, know that You have it all under control-- what You have for me is indeed for me.  When I am tempted to hide behind my words, help me to be transparent.  At the same time, remind me of my ego-- this is for Your glory only, not for my own personal benefit or gain outside of getting free.   I pray for understanding & for awareness.  Help me to see what You see in spite of my own reality & in doing so encourage others to do the same.  I pray for Your constant anointing as I embark on these two projects.  Speak through me.  Breathe through me.  I give myself away so You can use me.  Guide my hands, my heart & my mind.  I love you.
In Your Son's name I pray,

Friday, January 14, 2011

what i had learned today #2

so a friend of mine who will remain nameless instigated a learning spree today on the twidder, KNOWING that my attention deficit disorder in combination with my thirst, yeah i said it-- THIRST for knowledge would take me over the edge. & so here is what i had learned today on the topic of egyptian mythology & whatnot.
*in a series of tweets to said instigator & all who follow the kid. in the order in which they occurred. 

"thoth was often considered to be the heart & tongue of the sun god, ra." poets are the heart & tongue of the Son/God, Yah.

he was also scribe of the gods. #expletives. you make me learn kid. stop lol

ohhh myyyy geeez. & his wife is the concept of truth. efff.

"others say that Thoth created himself through the power of language." so... he SPOKE himself into existence... cool. #imHooked

"He is also the great counselor and the other gods frequently went to him for advice." #Thoth

"his totem animal is the baboon, a nocturnal animal that goes to sleep only after greeting the new day." #Thoth

"He was considered the heart and tongue of Ra as well as the means by which Ra's will was translated into speech." #Thoth

"He, too, was a measurer and [[recorder of time]], as was Seshat."#Thoth

all forms of writing + the measurement of time... that's what dude was responsible for. that's fuggin epic dawg. #Thoth

"After Isis gathered together the pieces of Osiris' dismembered body, he gave her the words to resurrect him so she could be impregnated...
"... and bring forth Horus." #Thoth

"Similar to God speaking the words to create the heavens and Earth in Judeo-Christian mythology, Thoth, being the god who always speaks...
"the words that fulfill the wishes of Ra, spoke the words that created the heavens and Earth in Egyptian mythology." #Thoth

"Thoth... was also considered to have been the scribe of the underworld..." ... a writer's life is a dark one. #kanyeshrug

the name thoth means "thought" & "time"


needless to say, i'm really feelin this dude here. i'll probably expound & whatnot later. 

Thursday, January 13, 2011

google Soren Kierkegaard

he was a Danish philosopher who understood us poets very well & is responsible for one of my favorite quotes:
[[A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music... and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: "Sing for us soon again;" that is as much as to say, "May new sufferings torment your soul."]] 
and also for this quote here:

"God is not like a human being; it is not important for God to have visible evidence so that he can see if his cause has been victorious or not; he sees in secret just as well. Moreover, it is so far from being the case that you should help God to learn anew that it is rather he who will help you to learn anew, so that you are weaned from the worldly point of view that insists on visible evidence. (...) A decision in the external sphere is what Christianity does not want; (...) rather it wants to test the individual’s faith."

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

What I Had l Learned #nStuff

mmk so if you don't already know, i'm a social work major. and last semester i had to take a class we call practice I. in this class we learned different skill & thangs to use when working one on one with clients to make them feel comfortable, to make breakthroughs, figure out exactly what they need/ what the problem is & so on & so forth yadda yadda yadda. so anyways, today was our first day in practice II & we were sittin around kickin it eatin animal crackers talking about what we learned/ realized in practice I & something kinda hit me.

i realized i had been using some of the skills somewhat unconsciously, even before i knew what they were. a couple in particular though-- containment & reaching into silences. when one on one with a client, containment is knowing how to conduct yourself should a client begin to cry or break down or anything like that. the heart of a social worker wants to immediately jump in with tissues & hug & wipe tears & things but in all actuality these actions could inhibit the person's breakthrough. a lot of times we want to come in & rescue when really the client just needs us to walk them through that time and actually allow them to break.

in and around this time we also practice reaching into silence. it's asking those still soft questions when it gets quiet. it is deciphering what those silences mean. it is looking for the things that are going unsaid. ain't a whole lot to say about this one lol but tact is very important, silence is something you really have to feel your way around because timing & they way you go about it is everything.

in all this reflection i realized that i had been doing these things before i even knew that they were actual social work skills. i used to do this to my friends all the time, i do it now, i did it last night. & i must say it's lowkey kinda cool because for me it's almost like confirmation that this is what i'm supposed. like this is what's already in me to be. it's crazy to think about it yo.

but yeah. i was just thinking about that today lol random epiphanies just come to me sometimes.

anywho. God is Love,
Rev Run

BOOM BYE YOW! whoop there it is

I wonder if they know how beautiful they are in this moment. Through the tears & heart ache & that angry hurt that only manifests itself in hot tears & cool words. When all of life is up against them, this is when they are most beautiful. When they band together in struggle it’s like a brilliant mosaic, a four way intersection of four women, 20 years of life behind them, God knows what ahead of them. All they have is each other, here and now in this moment. This is for my strengths. They guard my heart when the threat of loneliness comes to lay siege to my soul. They carry the weight of their individual worlds on their shoulders like atlas but when we’re together they still manage to shrug a little dirt off. my sisters. You have a way about you that makes me want to tell you everything. I have no line of defense strong enough to keep your love in check & I wouldn’t dare deploy it if I did. We are a paradox of hearts, you gird me up with this vulnerable vigor whenever our paths meet. It is phylicia rashad having coffee with michelle Obama. & asata shakur. It is a mary j & lauryn hill duet . it’s a little willow & sojourner. It is rosa parks & zora neale Hurston & nikki Giovanni & ntozake shange.  You are my colored girls. Who turned to loving each other when the world said our thick hair and thicker hips were insufficient and too much but never ever enough. Baby this is for you.

To my pookie. I did not know your cousin. but I saw a reflection of the phenomenal woman she was in your tears. & from what I could see there is so much of her in you still. Your heart is a vice grip, your love a strength that holds your family together. I know being a protector comes so easily but if ever you forget what it feels like to be the held instead of the holder, just come out of your room, hook a left and I’ll be asleep on your couch as usual. Come shake the ish outa me & tell me some story that I’ll laugh my hindparts off about simply because you are the one telling it to me. Pookie don’t you ever let nobody else speak for you. They just eff up the details & they’ll be nowhere near as passionate about your life as you are so keep that pedophile smile that goes perfectly with your kevin hart epiphanies & set up an evening fuh yaself… because you will always be my favorite story teller.

To my mojo.  I remember the day you called me crying. I prayed that morning would not catch you mourning this lost love, that the sun would not tease you & come up until you were ready to smile again. I prayed that what was to come would be better than what’s been. you kept telling me to go back to sleep. & I kept telling you no. when I told you I would be there whenever I meant it wholeheartedly. But as broken as you were at the time I could see why you thought I might leave so for the record, I’ll repeat myself. Whenever. You need anything. I will stop everything to be by your side.  & I wish I had some good ol country down home Monroe, LA metaphor to seal the deal but sadly I’m just not as cool as you so know this—any time you talmbout goin on a fugg shii up spree my nigga it’s nothing. Food stamps just rolled over today & between the four of us we got 5 jobs—we’ont have to take this shii!

To my boogie. The hardest part about having this music box heart of mine is trying to decide which melody to play. I’m not a musician but I have an ear for good music so when I hear you trying to force a smile from your heart I know something is off key in your life. Baby I promise you, it’s okay to break sometimes. See as far as people go, being broken doesn’t make you any less significant, it just means that maybe your heart’s wealth went unrealized in the past. I respect those cracks & crevices to be battle scars & lessons learned. So remember, whether or not you are worthy of this is not up to you to decipher. you will always be my byungajamonetalysiaharissjoshbennetninaruff poem. So keep these words in your heart in case you ever forget who you are & out of its abundance, let your mouth speak these things into being.

To you all. I pray that God redeems all the time & love, heart & light you ‘ve invested in those that never learned the rules of proper reciprocity & I’m overwhelmed with gratitude to Him for allowing me to be involved in the blessings that are your lives intertwined with mine. I’m sorry if you’ve ever caught me staring but there is an enigmatic splendor that burns through your skin& in an otherwise dull world filled with so many anchorless relations but no steadfast relationship, it’s kinda of hard to ignore. I’m sorry for every time I ever hugged you a little too long, a little too tight. I was just trying to reach inside of your heart & bring its desires to life. Let them take in their first breaths, see I have a naïve faith that just can’t seem to understand why soldiers like you shouldn’t have every good thing you deserve. So I’m sorry for those times, when my love was too hard or too heavy—I was just trying to love the hell out of your lives so forgive me if I have sinned. but I’m thinkin God might let me pass on this one.

So in conclusion, thank you. For letting me hold your tears and your hearts. Thank you. For bringing me in & reading me the stories of your lives reflected in those tears, the life in your blood. Thank you for being my lifelines. My sisters. Thank you for being love to me. & in doing so helping me believe in it again. 

Addendum: & to all those who have ever had a problem with my sisters, to those of who you got beef right now at this very moment or are even thinkin about startin drama for any reason… run & get done up kiddo. Step to my sisters in an unwholesome fashion & you will ever so cordially be invited to meet the dysfunctional part of me that still can’t figure out why the hell I’m in social work anyways. I swear that girl hates everybody. Idk about catching a grenade or anything, I’m too quick for that. But if you do happen to qualify for any of the above discrepancies I will gladly ensure that you catch these hands in a timely manner that is most appropriate & expeditiously convenient for both of us. Sincerely, management J

Saturday, January 8, 2011

tweets from @JazmineBEaPoet. all too true.

  1. *read them from the last one up, don't act like you ain't never twitStalked nobody & had to scroll down to the beginning of the rant/ quote/ conversation#OkGoJazmineBEaPoet A nod and a smile will suffice. Save us both from awkward conformist conversation. Keep on walking. It's cool..
  2. Jazmine WilliamsJazmineBEaPoet Turn around and say "terrible. My mom is sick, I don't know how I'll pay the rent, and my man just left me." And watch them run.
  3. Jazmine WilliamsJazmineBEaPoet They want/expect you to answer with "I'm great, and yourself?" Not due to accuracy. But consistency.
  4. Jazmine WilliamsJazmineBEaPoet Bgklbndf! I hate that "how are you?" Is a universal conversation starter. People don't REALLY care about the answer.
  5. Jazmine WilliamsJazmineBEaPoet "How are you?" -- Eh. If breathing qualifies me as blessed.. then you can consider me that.