Poised on the Precipice

5am and I’m soaking in the too short tub Again

Me and Kem and My thoughts

Swishing swirling like waves

I watched today in the Chesapeake bay.

Summer almost half gone.

feeling unsettled anxious afraid?

Poised on the precipice of something/somewhere.

Exciting/ unknown

Unknowable/ Unrealized

Writing taking flight.

Book deal.
Blog.
Canada sponsorship.
Offer for lecturer @ Univ.
in the fall.

Everything you hoped for

and more baby girl

So why don’t I sleep?

Why

Am I and

my Twitter

insomniac comrads

doing yoga sleep moves

at 3am.

Where is the great love

I wished for

Chanted for

Prayed to Allah/God for.

Friends mostly male

Listen distractedly

They don’t know what

it means to be Black,

Female, 60+, in these Times

Even the select few

the Circle

I have let into

My Secret World

Don’t really comprehend Me

Girlfriends I don’t have many

Concerned with menopause

Failing health weight gain

Why are all the men in prison or way down Low

Gurl you are blessed what you complaining for?

I reply yes I know

and pour

another glass of Wine

Is this what 60 plus is really for.

Memories/regrets/ half lives lived.

Wanna be happy

Wanna Really smile.

We women wear the mask that

Hides and smiles.

Tired of frowning fretting brooding raging

Eating my feelings at 3am

Good black still cracks and gets fat.

You’re so funny

Can make everyone laugh

The tears of a clown are just that

So talented

so thin

look at that Smile

…Got good genes

even the physician scribes.

Ask Robin Williams,Anthony Bourdain, Phyllis Hyman, Donnie Hathaway Gerald Levert

Lt. Steven Nettles…thank you for your service/Your UnwaveringFriendship

All gone before their time

How does it feel to have a graveyard

For a friend?

Bath water so warm

murmurs hush.

Be still.

Peace
Be still.

The one you seek has yet to be born.

Guess I’ll see you next lifetime

…may Be a Butterfly.

(Love and Light!)

MISSING ME…

pexels-photo-954299
Photo by Joshua T on Pexels.com

Have You Ever…

Heard a voice so distinctive the vibrations reached your very Being and literally touched your soul/life force

Have You Ever…

Looked into a face, a mirror reflection of you and saw the same Smile, the same  Joy, the same Laughter, Longing and Pain

Have You Ever…

Desired that sweet sweet passion that only His hands, His lips, His tongue can bring

Have You Ever…

Waited patiently/impatiently for the phone to ring, the text to bing, signally the beginning/end of your day

Have You Ever…

Dressed and undressed…Black shoes? Red? High heels? Low? Anticipating his Eyes caressing your curves and nodding approvingly

Have You Ever…

Wished that minutes so precious and few would rush by like a Bullet train hurtling you into His waiting arms

Have You Ever…

Touched Your Self the way he touches you…probing, searching, searing, softly releasing his explosive Treasure inside you

Have You Ever…

Prayed to the Creator thanking HIM/HER for crafting the other half of you

Have You Ever…

Laughed so loud so hard so long at the exact same time even though you were hundreds of miles apart

Have You Ever…

Looked up into the silent morning sky watching the clouds drift/ dance slowly by wondering  if HE was viewing that same sky

Have You Ever…

Cried beautiful silent tears listening to his powerful words

Have You Ever, Have You Ever, I Say, Have You Ever

Been in Love

 

 

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised… Or Posted on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook

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WE interrupt this broadcast to bring you an important message!

The Revolution will NOT be televised

or posted on Instagram

or Facebook

or snap chat

or twitter.

Brother Gil Scott sounded the alarm

Malcolm and Martin were already gone

Huey and Fred and countless unnamed Panthers have led the charge

For  dignity

community

free food

brotherhood /sisterhood

A Voice

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

The Community of Brothers Behind Bars

serving time

for victimless crimes

must be freed

Instituitions of Higher Learning

must replace crack dens,

measuring grams,

driving while black,

killing of our boys and men

Wake up! Wake up!

Social media is not real

it is a Medium

designed by the 10percent

for control of the 90

Anesthetizing Our Youth

Dulling Their Brilliant Minds

Gaming Gaming does Not Rule

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

We have already lost too much Time

Vietnam /PTSD /Homelessness /Brother can you spare me a Dime

Visiting your baby daddy in Lockup has become a Thing

Abusing your Queen has become a Thing

Shooting Sperm in Many Women has become a new sport

fatherless children the result

Wake Up !Wake Up!

We Need You

You are the hope

the light

the Original rib

To get to the Future

We Have to Look to the Past

WE Were the kings /the pyramid builders/ the mathematicians/the blood transfusion inventor

…the doctors…the lawyers

And Soldiers who helped SAVE our Native American chiefs

Do you know Your History /Her Story ?

Anthony Benjamin Tyrone Rashad Khalif Isaiah Testimony Derrick Jason Sean…

You are the fruit we have borne

Do not ripen on the Vine

Countless numbers are Already Gone

YOU are OUR Future

Our Kings /Warriors /Griots /Musicians

Rulers of  Obama Nation

The REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED

But Will Be Brought To you

Live and …In LIVING COLOR .

Hey, leave me a brief comment and forward this on to 1 Brother you know…let’s get this party uh Revolution started..right?

(100 things I ❤️ About Montreal will continue next week)

As Always,Thank you for reading my Words and please feel free to Comment/Share/ Follow … just like you did in Kindergarten 😌

Love and Light!

In a Reminiscing Mood

This is one of my Favorite Spoken Word posts. Written on the occasion of missing someone no longer in my Life. It’s the stuff that Love songs a la Luther, Kem, Levert, Donny H spring from. Fueled by that 3rd glass of Pinot in the quiet early dawn. 🎶Yesterday …Love WAS such an easy game to play… 

Liberal Lin

1401803393017

The World yawns, stretches and braces for a New Day

Birds chirp their morning Anthem.

Leaves unfurl

Grass shakes off its dew

And I lie here sleepless, thinking of you.

Missing the voice that cradles my heart.

Soothes and calms my fears.

Whispers gently, trust me

I will Not let you go

I get you.

Missing the Smile that twinkles

those gray/brown eyes

Deepening the dimples

bringing out the impish boy hiding inside.

Missing the Hands that heal the wounded

Pray to the Creator

And catch hold of mine

Carefully guiding me beside not behind.

Missing the Mind, lightning quick

complex, collecting, processing, storing

Zoom zoom on multiple tracks

Yet carving out some

cerebral space for me.

Missing the pet names

A language shared only by us.

Missing the passion

The volcano erupting, bubbling over

Spreading its fiery furnace over My land.

Missing my smile, my lightness, my glow

That touches all…

View original post 44 more words

In a Reminiscing Mood

1401803393017

The World yawns, stretches and braces for a New Day

Birds chirp their morning Anthem.

Leaves unfurl

Grass shakes off its dew

And I lie here sleepless, thinking of you.

Missing the voice that cradles my heart.

Soothes and calms my fears.

Whispers gently, trust me

I will Not let you go

I get you.

Missing the Smile that twinkles

those gray/brown eyes

Deepening the dimples

bringing out the impish boy hiding inside.

Missing the Hands that heal the wounded

Pray to the Creator

And catch hold of mine

Carefully guiding me beside not behind.

Missing the Mind, lightning quick

complex, collecting, processing, storing

Zoom zoom on multiple tracks

Yet always carving out some

cerebral space for me.

Missing the pet names, silent looks

A language shared only by us.

Missing the passion

The volcano erupting, bubbling over

Spreading its fiery furnace over My land.

Missing my smile, my lightness, my glow

That touches all who knowingly Know.

Missing the love songs and mixed tapes

dedicated By you

And hours spent going through my

collection to

Find the perfect response for you.

Missing the kitchen. The back forty. The Farmers’ Market.

The half watched DVDs. The Lake. The Woods.

Damn, I am Missing You.

 

 

 

 

 

 

SPOKEN WORD

1406038038668  I like the way that sounds…the feeling that it arouses in me when I hear that phrase–Spoken Word. It’s different from poetry with its meters and rhymes, iambic pentameter, structure, form. Roses are red/violets are blue.  It reminds me of blues/jazz/ playing late at night in some darkened room, shades drawn, voices hushed. Spoken Word.

The biggest problem I see with you/me is Time

Or should I say the lack thereof

I know it’s only been 2 months

And there are things you must do

But understand

I am not

Content to be alone

To face minuteless days/clock-watching nights

Of solitude/boredom/loneliness

In fact, I have had about

All the loneliness With a man

These past 5 years

That I can stand.

I deserve more

Need more

Want more.

You said it yourself

The last time

We entered Paradise.

When I was 20 I used to

Play this game

With my friend Pam

Called Isyoutheone?

Hanging out in bars, malls, jazz spots, bowling alleys

Searching each strange new face

For some sign

Of compatibility.

20 years later

The game ceases to

amuse me

I am a love song

Searching for lyrics.

Needing someone who

Unselfishly understands my needs

Whose first thought

Upon awakening

And giving thanks to the Creator

Is of ME.

And when life

Requires separation

I understand.

We are given

So little time

Why waste it.

When there are so

Many things/Places/Feelings/Thoughts

To Share…Together.

I really don’t relish

Doing this alone

In my

40th year

It is really no fun

And sooooo unnatural

And if having you

Wanting you

Means that I will

Still be alone

Then

Perhaps I am better off

Without You.

 

THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD: A Search for Self

Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board.  Some come in with the tide.  Others sail forever on the horizon…That is the life of man.

Now women forget all those things they don’t want to remember and remember everything they don’t want to forget.  The dream is the truth.

And so the novel opens.  The storyteller begins to weave the tale starting at the end and bringing us back circuitously to the beginning

Janie, dressed in muddy overalls and weary from her journey relates her story to friend Pheoby.  This sharing of her tale is not only an affirmation, but evokes the age old practice of sharing or confessional which has now evolved into the Talk Show. (think Oprah, Ellen, Steve Harvey)

Janie saw her life “like a great tree in leaf with the things suffered, things enjoyed, things done and undone. Dawn and doom was in the branches”.

We learn that Janie’s journey of self has taken her through three marriages and many struggles.  Walker notes that Eyes is generally thought of as a love story, but its theme, she believes, is Janie’s search for identity which finally takes shape when she throws off the images thrust upon her because she is both black and a woman in a society where neither is allowed to exist naturally and freely.

Literature is replete with stories of this search for identity. The Bildungsroman is a novel that traces the development of character from childhood to adulthood, through a quest for identity that leads the protagonist to maturity.

The story of Siddhartha often comes to mind when I think of the protagonist of Eyes. Like Siddhartha, Janie’s world is full of natural images that symbolize the role of nature in the character’s quest for a better understanding of self.

In trying to decide whether marriage to Logan Killicks and his oft mentioned thirty acres was the answer, Jane was back and forth to the pear tree…continuously wondering and thinking.

She looked to the horizon for answers.  And she soon realized that marriage to the lackluster Mr. Killicks, despite his financial security was not her idea of love. Nanny, however, thinks that marrying Mr. Killicks will be the answer. She tells, Janie.. The ni**er woman is de mule uh de world so far as Ah can see.  Ah been prayin fuh it tuh be different wid you.

But Janie realizes marriage to Mr. Killicks is not the answer. Ah wants things sweet wid mah marriage lak when you sit under a pear tree and think. She ends the marriage when she hurries out the front gate and turned South.  Zora writes, Janie’s first dream was dead, so she became a woman.

Janie’s second husband, the domineering, boastful Joe Starks from in and around Georgy represented newness and change. Janie knew that Joe did not represent sun up and pollen and blooming trees, but he spoke for far horizon.  To Janie, this represented another rung on the ladder of self fulfillment.

Marriage to Mayor Starks, however, proved to be demoralizing as Janie realized that he wanted her to play the role of the submissive wife keeping her thoughts and opinions to herself…Mah wife don’t know nothing ’bout no speech-making, he tells a crowd.  Ah never married her for nothing lak dat.  She’s uh woman and her place is in de home.

After twenty years, the marriage ends with Joe dying from a longterm  illness, during which he refused to see Janie.  Finally, Janie confronts Joe on his death bed..All dis bowin’ down, all dis obedience under yo’ voice-dat ain’t why Ah rushed off down de road tuh fund out about you.

At Joe’s funeral, Janie ...starched and ironed her face and came set in.  She sent her face to Joe’s funeral but herself went rollicking with the springtime across the world.  Janie’s journey for self discovery continues.

It is here that Zora’s fictional life and real life seem to intersect (this often happens in a novel).  Zora meets and falls in love with the real love of her life.  He was tall, dark brown, magnificiently built with a beautifully modeled back head…And he was an Alpha man. However, Zora notes, she did not fall in love with him because of looks..he had a fine mind and that intrigued me.

He was a man who wanted to do for her...But nothing, she writes..must be in my life but himself.  Zora’s career and fierce independence began to interfere with their relationship. Finally, Zora found escape from the struggle to maintain her ‘self’ in the relationship in the form of a Guggenheim Fellowship.  For two years she was to study/research out of the country.  Eyes was published in 1937 while she was in the Caribbean . She wrote it in only seven weeks.  This was my chance to release him and fight myself free from my obsession.  So I pitched in to work hard on my research to smother my feeling.  

Similarly, Janie’s love affair with Vergible Tea Cakes Woods, an easy going laborer, ten years her junior, represents her fulfillment in a union.  Tea Cakes teaches Janie ...de maiden language all over.  He is man enough to treat her as an equal and they spend their days traveling from job to job working the land, in unison with nature. The novel ends on a bittersweet note as Janie’s dream fades into reality and she realizes the journey one must travel to distinguish role from self.

Many literary critics say that Eyes is the quintessential love story. However, like Zora’s own real life, Eyes is also a story of survival and realization of self. In her autobiography, Zora writes…Be that as it may, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I have loved and been loved by the perfect man.  If I never hear of love again, I have known the real thing.

And in true tongue-in-cheek Zora fashion, quips: But pay no attention to what I say about love..it may not mean a thing…Just because my mouth opens up like a prayer book, it does not just have to flap like a Bible.

Love. Life. Identity. Illusion. Reality. Dream. Truth. Roles. Self. Nature. Struggle.  Their Eyes Were Watching God is all this and so much more…just turn the pages.