"The 'F' Word"

Who am I, to call her oppressed?
How do I know that all she has
isn’t all she wants?
That all she is
isn’t all she every wanted to be?
Dreams change.
She is the center of her world,
so to hell with ours –
filled with wrongs we can’t seem to right.
Within her range, she affects change.
Improvement.
Enlightenment.
Revolution.
I come home every day,
leaving the world outside my door
exactly the way I found it.
But in a single day, she
has formed an opinion,
changed a mind, laid a foundation…
she has labored at love
and bore much fruit.
In her world, nobody’s hungry.
So to hell with ours.

Thinking about family (a micro-retro-post)

After letting passengers off and allowing fresh riders to come on board, the train pulls out of the station. The sudden jerk causes even experienced riders to wobble a bit. Teresa turns to her uncle.

ME:
Being short has its advantages when you ride the subway. I don't sway as much when we pull off - lower center of gravity.

UNCLE:
Yeah, but you've got everybody's armpits in your face.

SCENE

There is no more a Leggard response than that.

"Rubble"

The air is so thick,
and no step is a safe one.
There are ghosts passing
on either side, but even they
are not weightless.
Wait less.
Move more.
Can’t stay covered in the ashes.
Have to find ________.*
Torn and tattered,
bruised and bloodied,
heads are swimming.
The only parts that feel clean
are the tear track marks.
Salt water makes the skin raise up—
Pagliaccis are everywhere.

*yes, that's a blank. this is only a draft, after all.

Addendum

(i know i'm not writing a bunch, but these aren't throw-away posts.)

After reading Cowgirl's comment, I started thinking about the familiar.

Have you ever heard or saw something for the first time, but you still recognized it somehow? That happens to me from time to time. I remember experiences I've never had - long for a time (past, future) that I can't really lay claim to.

For the song "Summertime" (see last post), Jazzy Jeff sampled this gem from Kool & the Gang. It makes me nostalgic for something, but I don't know what. Maybe I have hidden memories? Maybe I've been here before...



You can't tell me this doesn't feel delicious on the eardrums.
(Well, you could, but I wouldn't believe you.)

Take a listen and mellow out. Happy Friday.

Once more for the road

So long, Summer. It was pretty touch-and-go for a minute there anyway, huh? I figure this is a proper send off, and any excuse to play the feel-good classic by DJ Jazzy Jeff and Fresh Prince is fine by me.

Until next time...

The Fear

"When you want what you want more than you fear what you want, you will have it." - Alan Cohen

I want to talk about fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, guilt for being afraid – all of that.

This space gives me leave to articulate whatever I please, no matter how profound or mundane. People read it if they want to and click to a different space if they don’t. I don’t really divulge, so I have very little on the line here. It's not particularly therapeutic because I am not willing to be completely raw and vulnerable in this space. Hell, there are very few spaces in even the 3D realm where I’ll take that risk…

Wait, I’m wandering…

Okay, so this space allows me to put my thoughts out there, but as a writer (I have the nerve to claim that again) sharing this way isn’t enough. What’s so special about something everyone can do? Or, as Groucho Marx (as retold by Woody Allen) put it, “I would never want to be part of a club that would have someone like me for a member”. I’ll never be a writer if all I do is blog. (Which is not to say that writers don't blog, but not all bloggers are writers, dig?)

If I really want to test my mettle, I have to submit my thoughts to someone who can turn them/me down. I need a door closed in my face, so that I can a) get creative and find an open window or b) get angry and break that shit down. So many success stories hit a turning point when the protagonist has nothing left to lose. Those of us who have little more than nothing may hold onto our scraps so tightly that we can’t reach for anything else…

Here lies the body of Teresa. She played it safe…

And there are copouts, so many copouts that I could distract myself for the rest of my breathing days with other things that “need to get done”. But I know that I am never more alive and full than when I’m scribbling in a damn near blind fury or performing. I know this. So what do I do with this information? I don’t know yet, but I can bet it starts where fear stops.

Just a thought...

"Dreams"

Unrealistic,
but that still doesn't make me
want it any less.

About Face

Dear Break-outs,

This is how it works. I vow to wear virtually no make-up and not to pick. In exchange, you happen very seldom – only a few pimples at a time – and in a singular area on my face. I let you run your course, using only a mild astringent, and then you leave me be. WTF, Breakouts? This was not part of the deal.

Aggravated & Self-Conscious,
Teresa
**

Dear Teresa,

You don’t own me.
I do what I want.
(RHASBERRY!)

That’s “Miss Break-outs” to You,
Miss Break-outs
**

Dear Break-outs,

Do I really have to get reinforcements?
Because I will. Don’t make me do it.

Teresa
**

Dear Teresa,

Empty threats. You can’t just up a change the skin regiment all willy-nilly! That’s not even your style – gimme a break! What’chew gone do now, punk? Bust a move!

B
**

Dear B,

Please leave sooner than later. Uncle.

Teresa
**

T,

I’ll think about it. (Chump.)

At the End of the Rainbow

Last Friday, Reading Rainbow aired its last episode in a 26-year run, and it feels a little like I lost a friend. I grew up with this show; the likes of it and Sesame Street and Mr. Rodger’s Neighborhood (to a lesser degree) swirl together in my nostalgia to create this rose-colored childhood memory.* I think on that time now as a golden age in children’s television programming, where leaving your young ones in front of the TV could actually be a good thing.

Now I can’t recall specific episodes, but like the NPR article states, everybody knows that soulful yet accessible theme song and those familiar three notes that followed the oral book reports. (“But you don’t have to take my word for it!) And if I recall correctly, there was great diversity in the children cast on that show; at the very least I remember thinking that I could be one of those kids.

In an NPR segment, Reading Rainbow is credited with teaching children why to read, rather than how. And as the focus has shifted from comprehension to phonics, “research shows” that children may benefit more from gaining skills like spelling and grammar than content. That makes my Humanities heart bleed. It’s like the difference between teaching children to read to expand their thinking and teaching them to read to follow instructions. Children are maturing much faster and becoming more savvy all the time, and I think the why is more important now than ever.

We need something composed of complete sentences and full thoughts to compete with the flash-bang! of texting, twitter and other malformed incarnations of language. I’m not so parochial as to want to eschew all new rhetoric and language conventions, but we not only speak with this language – we think in it. And I fear the more we shortcut and abbreviate ourselves, the more we shrink our thoughts and ultimately narrow our own minds.

I’m sure this makes me sound like some stodgy English teacher or librarian, but I think this is a great loss. I hadn’t watched Reading Rainbow in many years, but I’m still sad to see it go – and the era along with it.

* I would be remiss not to give Fraggle Rock and Zoobilee Zoo honorable mention.


(image from here.)

20-Something [Social] Life Cycle

- subcultural rebirth

- clique gestation/ interpersonal maturation

- technological disenchantment

- psychoanalytic introspection

- existential crisis

- burst into flame

- repeat




Is it really that serious? Of course not... and absolutely.

Ramadan Reflections

(because, clearly, i'm a sucker for alliteration.)
**

Yesterday, I overheard someone say, “I’m starving.”

Really? Really?

It was the 3rd day of Ramadan, and my body was still adjusting. I wasn't walking around sad-faced and pitiful; my stomach didn't even growl too much. And I didn’t intend to indulge such dramatics. For one, it’s not becoming, and for two – it isn’t necessary.

However, hearing that hyperbolic turn of phrase (for surely she wasn’t serious) actually made me grateful for the fast. Through it, I will recognize hunger, but it will confirm that I know nothing of starvation. That’s one of the benefits of Ramadan; Muslims get closer to the experience of the unfortunate. Hopefully, it will not only make us more diligent in our compassion but more thankful for our bounty.

Ameen.

Ramadan Mubarak

The Islamic month of fasting began last night at sundown.

It makes me feel especially connected to Muslims across the world.

And I think the President feels connected too. Very cool.

A Peculiar Kind of Optimisim

An excerpt from a recent conversation with one of my sisters:


"I have good news!"

"What?"

"I went to the doctor today and found out that I have poison ivy."

"You're stupid."

"I thought there was a parasite living under the surface of my skin."

"Well, in that case."

Dude. 3 Years.

A few days ago, HomeBoy & I celebrated our 3 year wedding anniversary (it sounds so stodgy when I say it that way). He wrote me this amazing message that made me cry the second time I read it (the first time I was too busy trippin' because other folks could see it).

What a beautiful soul.
What a blessed life.
I don't want to ramble,
but I believe Ingrid Michaelson said it best.


PS - We went to this delicious Italian restaurant. Ever had really good canneloni? It will change your life.

An Exercise in Nostalgia

You know, senior yearbook quotes can reveal a lot about a person.

In my high school, the seniors had the most detailed portion of the yearbook. Unlike the under classmen who had all of their images squeezed onto a double page spread like so many sardines, our photos were laid out three per page, so we could include a list of all our extracurricular activities, our signatures and a quote of our own choosing.

People pulled activities out the woodwork. I’m convinced some even made them up. My own list wasn’t very robust, as I worked all through high school. But the most interesting part wasn’t the list of extracurrculars; it wasn’t even the highly stylized signatures of the senior girls – complete with hearts and smiley faces, ad nauseum. The most interesting thing about the senior section was the quotes.

Being several years removed from high school, I’ve gone back to peruse my yearbook on occasion. I’ll read a few of the handwritten messages; then I make a B-line for the senior section to see who’s quotes exemplify their high school selves, and who’s quotes were foreshadowing the people they would become. Of course, I have not kept in touch with everyone from my graduating class, so maybe the quotes just fit my memories of them. At any rate, here are some of my favorites:

• "...in my pants" -Original
• "Nothing left to do but smile smile smile" -Grateful Dead
• "I get by with a little help from m y friends.
• I get high with a little help from my friends." - The Beatles
• "Carpe Diem"
• "Insanity, think of it as a survival kit." - Anonymous
• "We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep." - The Tempest
• "I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again." - F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise
• "When I know who I am, then I'll be free." - Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
• "Four years of Academic [our high school]...'And still I rise" - Partially Original/ Maya Angelou
• "Deaf people can do anything except hear" - Original (and from a hearing-impaired student. awesome in my opinion.)
• "College is for girls who don't want to marry the first idiot they meet and push out his illegitimate children." - Original
• "I wish they would only take me as I am." -Vincent Van Gogh
• "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." - Unknown
• "Nitwit blubber oddment tweak." (I believe this is take from Harry Potter)
• "My heart took delight in all my work, and this was the reward for all my labor." - Ecclesiastes 2:10
• "Both tears and sweat are salty, but render a different result. Tears will get you sympathy, sweat will get you change." - Jesse Jackson
• "We all go a little mad sometimes." - Norman Bates, Psycho
• "If I could say a few good words...I'd be a better public speaker." - Homer Simpson
• "The difficulty is not to die for a friend but to find a fried to die for." - Anonymous
• "Silence, here I am. Here I am -silent" - Nirvana
• "Verily, when Allah intends a thing, His command is 'Be!' and it is! So glory to Him in whose hands in the dominion of all things: and to Allah is the final return." - Al Qur'an

I could have included more, but I don't want to transcribe the words of my entire senior class. Like I said, I haven't kept in touch enough to know if any of these quotes have proven to been ironic or prophetic, but I hope we have a reunion because I would love to know.

"Peacetime"

[edited to add]

I like technology most when it helps me do something timeless – like create poetry.

While watching The Good Shepherd the other night, I saw a scene in which the main character and his love interest were dancing at a night club and the band leader interrupted the music to share the news that France and England had just declared war on Germany. “But please continue dancing and enjoying our music,” he said, “I’ll update you as information comes in.” The protagonist’s love interest held him closer – tighter – for as long as she could. And continue to dance they did.

Even after I turned off the movie and went to bed, I couldn’t get that scene out of my mind. I didn’t want to get up and grab my notebook, but there’s a memo app on my BB. So I opened a new memo, and wrote the following: (tentatively titled, “Peacetime”)


Hold me close;
we’re on the brink of war.

Let’s keep dancing.
Soon enough there will be no music,
and we will ration smiles.

But tonight we can pretend
that our hearts are light, our spirits free.

And the only bloody Marys
are the ones served with Sunday brunches.
Not the ones with futures and families.
Not the ones named for the mother of Jesus.
**

I question the line breaks.

Are you talking to me?

As I rushed through the halls at work yesterday morning, a building maintenance gentleman with a huge cart stopped short right beside me. Then I stopped. He said, "ladies first", and I almost tripped standing still. "Thank you," I said. As I scurried the rest of the way back to my desk, I had a flurry of feelings and thoughts. I’ll try to illustrate them:


“Ladies first” => was he being facetious? => Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I a Woman” => I wasn’t offended => it seemed genuine => race/class/gender (minus class in this instance) => should I have insisted that he go first? he was pushing a heavy load… => (so am I – Rimshot!) => is this chivalry or decency? => is there a difference? => was taking his cue an anti-feminist act? => maybe he wasn’t in a rush? => when did I become a lady? => woman, yes. lady? I don’t know => it was a nice gesture, at any rate => sometimes a cigar is just a cigar => I don’t smoke


Yep. That's pretty much the inside of my head at any given moment.

poetic license...

Yippie – n.  a term used to describe the young and upwardly mobile who despite their education, professional careers and relatively affluent lifestyles persist in expanding consciousness through nonconformist, unconventional and free-spirited behavior; a cross between a “yuppie” and a “hippie”; ex. It’s good that she’s buying local and handmade items, but that yippie spends way too much!

Happy Birthday, Bighead

Dear HomeBoy,

I know you don’t really celebrate your birthday, and that’s fine by me.  But I do.  So, how can I satisfy my need to recognize and your request to keep it quiet?  I think a post will do the trick.  Here it goes…

 

“Twenty-Eight Endearing Things About You”

28.  You look like a child when you’re sleeping – totally unassuming and peaceful.

27.  Your search for humor is relentless, and you always share your findings with me. (Whether I find them funny or not – that’s a different story ;)

26.  My friends love you, and my family respects you.

25.  You’re a rather good impersonator; your Nas and Mos Def are pretty good, but your Elijah Muhammad is the best. 

24.  However, your impersonation of my dad still leaves much to be desired – keep working on it. ;)

23.  Your competitive edge is pretty funny.  Phase Ten has never had such an intense interpretation before you started playing, I’m sure.

22.  You love your friends and family with steadfastness and intensity.  I admire that.

21.  You introduced me to Aesop Rock, L’Roneous and Aqua Teen Hunger Force.  How can I ever repay you?

20.  WWJD – What Would Jay Do?  If I'd had you as a math tutor, maybe I'd remember a few things.

19.  I love to see you and your sisters together; you have a beautiful relationship.

18.  You don’t buy me flowers, you bring me ginger snaps.

17.  When you get into a hobby, you REALLY get into it.  RC Cars, boxing, MMA and jiu-jitsu… need I say more?

16.  You are the reason I know anything at all about the UFC, and I really do listen!  BJ Penn, Royce and Roger and all the Gracies, Tap Out, Affliction, Sherdog, arm bar, triangle choke, oma plata – see?

15.  You may single-handedly keep afloat the protein powder industry.

14.  I see a tree limb, a doorway, a set of monkey bars; you see a pull-up opportunity.

13.  Somehow scaring me as I walk into dark rooms or turn corners is still funny after all this time… to you.

12.  You, in a most beautifully articulate manner, defended feminism to my father.  While I observed in absolute silence with a smile that could rival the Cheshire Cat.

11.  Your pragmatism and frugality can be irksome – they also come in great handy.

10.  You research EVERYTHING, from laptops to what’s the best method for making coffee.  (I love our French press, by the way.  Thank you.)

9.  You’ve relinquished any creative control in the interior design of our home, but you help me carry out the ideas.

8.  After only 3 years, you’ve nearly mastered the art of dishwashing. ;)

7.  You are kind to all animals, and even pet the strays.

6.  You have high school memories of me from before I even really knew who you were.

5.  You never hold me back from anything I want to do.

4.  You make me question myself, which ultimately results in a stronger resolve or a clarified perspective.

3.  You were a soldier, and you are a scholar.

2.  You’ve pondered a multitude of ways to embarrass our future children.

1.  You are who you are all the time.

Ways to Keep Busy While the Power's Out (in the morning)

(Besides the obvious - gutter!)

- Call the electric company and report it, of course.

- Wash dishes by window light.

- Make shadow puppets.

- Wonder if I should have spent that extra $$ on a backup generator instead of interior paint.

- Listen to the rain fall & remember when that used to be a soothing sound.

- Count all the things in the refrigerator that could spoil. Do this in my mind, of course; don't open the fridge and let what little chill is left escape.

- Write a letter, like they did in Olden Days. If I really want an authentic experience, tie my letter to the foot of a pigeon.

- Write my blog post by hand and laugh hysterically at the irony.

- Marvel at my dependence on modern amenities.

- Meditate on gratitude. My situation is only an inconvenience - a discomfort at the most - and it's temporary.

- Be Still. (Seriously, when was the last time I did that?)