A New Community

I have big plans for this year.
I plan to come into my own.

I plan to have a space of my own.

I’m tired of renting out other people’s space…invading world’s that aren’t my own….world’s where I’m not welcome. I’m going to be free to be me and establish my own beloved community. A private party. With nobody there but me, my angels and my guitar singing “Baby look how far we’ve come”. No more disguises. No more masks. Just me. Naked. Complete. And I’ll let you out of the jail that I put you in. And pardon all death sentences. You’re free to go. I forgive you. You’re free to go. No more room for mental prisoners. I am bound. To the law of love. I am bound. To the one above. And I will discover the me that I’ve been to afraid to see. Me…Me! Naked. Complete. Everyday I’ll grow another 5 inches and hover above misconceptions and all deceptions that I believed.
Every.
Day.
Every.
Day.
Every.
Day.
I’ll be brand new. Because I’m not afraid anymore. I am not ashamed anymore. There is no one to blame anymore.

Yeah.

I have big plans for this year. I plan to come into my own. Find myself a new home. Sing myself a new song.

Sleepwalking

I’m having trouble sleeping. I keep thinking. Trying so hard to discover meaning in my emptiness. What is supposed to be a quiet threat
Is loud contemplation Loud Contemplation and I keep thinking trying to discover meaning in the emptiness
Convincing myself that maybe God’s just starting from scratch
Rebuking the enemy – Maybe it’s another one of his attacks
But then again maybe this feeling
Is just something that I lack
And my mind wants rest
But it can’t sleep
It’s trying to discover meaning through all of my thinking
Something that I do best
Thinking my way through all of life’s tests
I WISH!......................
I…pray
That God would just have his way
But I can’t let go
Of MY thinking
Of MY reasoning
It’ MY meaning!

Perfection

What woman can say no to a 6 foot 4, 250 pound hunk of steel? Literally. And a gifted one too. He can see through just about anything. He’s a great listener in the fact that he hears what’s going on all over the world. Oh and not to mention, he flies too traveling at the speed of light. He’s gorgeous and every woman in the world vies for the opportunity to be his damsel in distress. Save meeeeeeeee! But as a serial monogamist, he vows his love for only one and stays faithful to just the mere hope of what is a non-existent relationship. But he wins every battle yet still makes it just in time to save her in her time of need. He’s more than words, but he’s a man of action. Making the headline news daily, his pictures are male model flawless. His moderate temperament keeps him calm and collective. His confidence is sexy and it’s superior given the fact that he doesn’t die unless he’s scourged in kryptonite which is the least likely thing to be found at the grocery store. He is always there. He is always willing.
He…is…perfection. He…is…superman. He…is…not real.

Yo' Foot is on My Neck

My sistas. We all livin in solidarity.
No one able to feel the black girls pain, but the black girl.
No one able to rejoice in the black girls celebrations than the black girl.
No one able to understand the black girl…like the black girl.
And no one able to bring the black girl down, better than…the black girl.
“Sista yo’ foot is on my neck”
Yo’ foot is on my neck
When yesterday you were my best friend and today you wanna hate and can’t congratulate me in my accomplishments.
Yo’ foot is on my neck.
With your exclusive parties and upscale shindigs- no I didn’t get the e-mail.
Yo’ foot is on my neck
Staying up late nights and listening to me crying and then turning your back on me in the times when I was dying
Yo’ foot is on my neck
Competing with me for what? For first place? When the black girl is already at the bottom of the totem pole of the human race?
Yo’ foot is on my neck
Mentoring me with that tough love. Yet pulling away in the blink of an eye when the going got rough.
Yo’ foot is on my damn neck
When you saw me on the ground. And walking by so thoughtlessly with out so much as turning around…
To say, “You okay?”
Warning me against the vipers that would attack yet for some strange reason I’m pulling a knife out of my own back and it’s from you…sista.
Yo’ foot is on my neck.
When you say what you don’t really mean
making covenantal bonds with me and breaking them in between all those words…
those empty empty words…
that don’t mean nothing, when your actions were what was really heard…the loudest.

And to your dismay Solidarity and Disparity make no room for me in False Charity.
So I must go.
To find solidarity within me in hopes that one day you will join with me and we can walk in peace, but until then I can’t wait and watch you slay me.

Always a 3, Sometimes a 2, But Never a 1

Iverson always wanted to be a point. So I heard. He says that he’s the least selfish player. So I heard. But what happens when you mix one big ego with another big ego? It’s like a chemical combustion. Someone’s going to have to back down, or something’s going to blow. I’m not sure if newfound homie-G Carmelo Anthony can hold against veteran round the way boy Allen Iverson. A.I’s got about 8 years on Anthony. I mean, it was A.I. who started the whole braiding hair thing in the NBA. He’s quite the trend setter. And not to mention he has about a dozen more tattoos than Anthony as well. Hmmmm, do you think those things could mean something?…..probably not. But my point is this, if they want to form any sort of understanding and solidarity as a team, they should just give in and start calling A.I., Uncle Iverson. Let him have the ball and run the show.
He’s not quite Jason Kidd, but hey, who is?
He can feed the ball into the post and let Anthony stay down low.
He’s not quite Steve Nash, but hey, who is?
He can stay on the perimeter and only score when the balls kicked out.
He’s not quite Tony Parker, but hey, who is?
We’ll have to see how this whole thing works out because…I guess he’s just not quite a point guard, but hey, who is?

There's Ebonee

When the going is good…there’s Ebonee.
When the going gets bad…there’s Ebonee.
When I feel like being alone and don’t want to be bothered by anyone (including Ebonee)…there’s Ebonee.
When I am so mad that I could stand to never see her again…there’s Ebonee.
When I’m ready to quit and throw in the towel…there’s Ebonee.
And after over 12 years I can look at my life now…and here’s Ebonee.

Aren’t we glad for the Ebonee’s in our lives?

Nobody's Have Gifts Too

Ashlee's a Dancer..and a good one too!

The Nobody's

Oh no, sorry, we didn’t get the invitation.
No, we weren’t invited to read the scripture at your service.
Oh and as far as making it on the “list”, I’m sure we were at the bottom…or rather,
never made it in the first place.
Yes, we are “the nobody’s”.
the people you love to hate.

the people you love to overlook.
the people you love to forget about.
“the nobody’s”
Neglecting to capitalize our T’s.
and you're Obsessing with our needs
Obsessing like a disease
Envied crossbreeds of the nobody’s conscience
it’s nonsense
that “the nobody’s” were really on your guest list in the first place.

Quote of the Week

"The truth is many women never know who they are because the pursuit of life and things is more important than the pursuit for self."
Kai Gibson