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Sunday, October 6, 2013

Adventures in Poetry

I wrote this poem awhile ago, but it felt so fitting to where my heart is today. 



most days

the line between lover and liar

is a tightrope strung between

my heart and  yours

a bible that sits on the night stand

and reminder that i haven’t prayed in years

i still want to pastor when i grow up

be an attorney

maybe a poet

want to frame your picture in mahagony

invite my brothers to share a meal

sometimes

you are not family enough

sometimes

your smile is a circle of light

any halo would dream of becoming

your open door a gate of pearls

and i forget to miss heaven

most days

i settle myself a circus performer

faith in my left hand

love songs in the right

the weight of both a death wish on days

i try to give one release

i cannot imagine an altar so holy

to turn away an open hand

i cannot tell you

how it hurts to believe in a God

that does not love me as i am

 

Friday, August 30, 2013

Adventures in Teaching

So.

If you haven't peeped the recent news cycles - the great state of North Carolina, is currently dedicating itself to the creation of the worst education system in these United States. The decision to appropriate funds to creating opportunities for parents to get their children out of public schools, instead of using those funds to making public schools better - is nothing if not a testament to the fact that our governor cares...almost nothing about North Carolina's children. He also cares nothing about the people who give their lives to educating those children - making the choice to continue our 6  year pay freeze (while citing the need for a "living wage" when he raised salaries for his staff); taking the cap of class size restrictions (when research shows that after 17, students start making smaller gains in the classroom); and I could go on...but a certain level of rage begins to build when I list all of the ways in which my governor told me that my profession is worthless.

Not the point of this post.

The most potentially harmful creation of this educational climate, is the rise in competitiveness among teachers. Let's be honest - if the only possible shot you have at getting a decent pay boost comes through your students excelling on a norm-referenced standardized test, that means that you have a better chance at making money if the teacher next door has a less-than stellar year. Veteran teachers are less willing to give novices the sorts of classroom management strategies that will make a learning environment possible; novice teachers are less willing to share innovative techniques geared towards educating an always changing population of students; and the administrators in any given building are more likely to make knee-jerk reactions (in terms of room-assignment, scheduling, and the like) based on year-to-year changes in test scores which can lead to even greater levels of resentment between colleagues.

But we're teachers....we love the children....we're supposed to rise above and work tireless hours, and help each other, and bla, bla , bla....but when I'm begging my friends for extra cash so I can buy supplies for my classroom - all the while praying that my car engine holds on until December when (hopefully) I get a little testing bonus and can afford to get my car serviced...it feels like it may be time to consider other economic opportunities.

Sorry. Again. Not the point of this post.

The point is this: It's no secret that teachers are under paid, over worked, and under appreciated - it would be nice if schools were able to provide an environment where we could still lean on each other for support.

Peace Be

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Adventures in Moving

So.

It's no secret that I haven't posted anything in quite some time, but I promise I haven't been purposely trying to neglect you...just been crazy busy. And to that end...I have a new virtual stomping ground. You can check me out over at lumplestiltzken.com for all things related to performing and teaching. More than likely I'll keep this blog up and running in the off chance that I'll be sharing something personal, and if that doesn't happen I'll definitely continue to post my 30/30s here.


Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Adventures in Writing

So.

I woke up with the "intention" of working on the geometry review for my babies to work on today while I finalized grading, but I cannot get Marty McConnell's book out of my head. I cannot tell you why Wine for a Shotgun is amazing; I just know that it is. And I will tell you that I was skeptical. After thoroughly wowing me with the "saints to pop culture icons" series (special shout out to Saint Catherine of Sienna to Mary Kate Olsen), I was admittedly less wowed when I read the first few in the tarot inspired series....in a very "come on poet - I know that we all see the world differently....but please see it less differently" kind of way. But something about the collection is the first thing my mind went to at 2:30 this morning.

That to say - I love reading poetry. I love noticing what other writers do; I love watching them evolve - seeing what they do well. Good work of course, usually sparks and idea or two that I will run with at a later date (e.g. the notion for "Whitney Houston to Blue Ivy" piece came from Catherine to Mary...which you really should have read by now). Rarely reading/hearing another poet will compel me to rethink what I do...how I do it....do it better.

Excited to see what the words will do next.

Peace Be

Monday, May 20, 2013

Adventures in Depression

i was going to write a post about this, but sometimes other people say things so much better than i can.

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2013/05/depression-part-two.html

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Adventures in Terrorism

So.

I don't think I intended for it to be a "thing", but for the second NaPoWriMo in a row, I have thrown many of the new pieces into a chapbook of sorts. Woo! Last year's project, {}At First Sight, was a a compilation of the not-quite love poems that came tumbling out during the month of April, and this year's project, Terrorism and Other Topics for Tea, is the result of the many pseudo-political pieces that I wrote last month or performed last season. I'm actually really excited about this newer endeavor, especially on the heels of a conversation I had with Lamar Jordan during the opening reception to LTAB.

I know that all 6 of my dedicated readers are just waiting to get their very own copy of the project - so I will definitely let you guys know how to make that happen, when it happens.


Peace Be

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo le Fin

So.

Another April has come and gone, and I finished 7 poems shy of the 30 poems goal. Oh well. I can be ok with that. Highlights of the project:


  • Wrote 2 poems that I'm exceedingly proud of 
  • Wrote 4 or 5 rough drafts of poems that I'll become exceedingly proud of at some point
  • Got through the first run of LTAB GSO relatively unscathed (which I may or may not post about later)
  • Started thinking about a temporary switch to back to fiction (which may or may not be about some short story prizes I heard about recently, that you actually have to have short stories to enter - go figure)
Hope the month went well for you guys. 

Peace Be

Monday, April 29, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 23/30

in the end
we always call in question the beginning
on bad days
i’m sure even God regrets
that whole
“let there be”
and the two of us
made in His image it seems
are no different
me
a bundle of questions
as to where the fall began
you
not raindance enough
to wipe the slate clean
in the beginning
was the word
and the word
has always been love
but words alone are never enough
to hold their weight in water
in the beginning
we try not to anticipate the end
on good days
i’m sure even God believes
that we all
will find redemption
i find it hard to sleep at night
i fear you nightmare of my face
i fear your subconscious will only call up memories of bad days
but in the beginning
the two of us wrong were still our own kind of beautiful
a thing with holding on to
even in the end

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 22/30


i need a vagina to destroy

~Friend and fellow poet, trying to convey his level of frustration at organizing a poetry slam



even the sweetest among us
can dr.jekyl into cyanide
a slip of tongue like razor gash
across a boy’s intention
i believed
you were a poet
but it seems
you are a man
and as such
i guess will do
what men are apt to do
which is to say
will do what any one of us can do

which is to say
i did not know the mr. hyde
you kept shackled in the closet
whipped into submission with your well placed words
how fitting
that your unveiling was a word misspoken
between friends
so frustrated
the only thing you could say
was that on the wrong day
you could be a rapist

i wonder
if hyde justified his behavior
with all the good he knew jekyll would do
the karmic scale set even enough
to nullify any remorse
a priest
who also molests little boys
a wife beater
who serves as a deacon at church
a poet
who needs a vagina to destroy
as soon as the poetry slam is over

i wonder
do we performers take pseudonyms
to be the namesake of our righteousness
the dr.jekylls to the hydes who appear
whenever we put away our pens
the poetic persona a meager mask
for the monsters that we are
sometimes horrific
even in the eyes of those
who we know love us most

i wonder
when jekyll finally broke beneath the weight of being hyde
when did he decide to explain it all away
did he believe that the lack of evil intent
would somehow hold him blameless
do we believe
that we are only responsible for
the words we say on stage

even the sweetest among us
is a coin flip away
from exposing the bitter of real in our bellies
a bad day spark igniting the flame
we hide away at night
dr. jekyll
a brilliant beast of a man
above a quiet torture
i do not expect of you perfection
we are all at some points profane
but mr.hyde
you are a poet
please careful
of what you say

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 21/30


when i grow up
i’ll be the kind of girl
that does not hurt other people
not on purpose
not with a sucker punch
saying something about being whole now
i will finish what i start
think twice before beginning
go back to not making promises
until i know that i can keep them
i will do more with this heart
than beat
and  break
do more with with this love than weep
when i get older
i will be the woman
you always told me i could be

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 20/30


So. Apparently we've reached the portion of the month where I write pretty awful, crazy poems...with no real relevance to anyone except me and a person who will never actually read the poems.....but nevertheless. Um...gonna be avalanching out my insides for the next couple pieces...so be prepared for that - or if you'd like, you can just rejoin me around #23 or so for better poetry.

for the waffle house
parking lot
walmart
sunrise
first kiss
butterscotch
bitter and sweet
for the phone call
car ride
bar hop
night crawl
slow dance music
soft and offbeat
for the after
and dizzy
silver
and calm
promise and break
the startle and sting
for the memories to come
that will be haunting
for having nothing to offer
but a poem
and an apology

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 19/30


someday
someone will have the misfortune
of seeing me kind
and gentle hearted
their love an open handshake
to center in my palm
i will tell them
the human heart is the size of a fist
and i am more sucker punch than soul mate, love
i am no one
to go all in with

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 18/30

So this particular piece is a cleave poem (that's right - i'm messing around with forms). The idea - it's three poems in one: the left column is a poem, the right column is a poem, and then if you read the whole thing left to right like normal, it's another poem. I don't know that this particular cleave poem is any good, but it was....pretty friggin' difficult to put together.


i dreamt of you

last night
under the stars

holding the moon between your fingers
the night a velvet blanket

you said
between the two of us

nothing is impossible
i said

i swear
i wish

i believed you
that we were awake

eyes open
without pretense

hand over heart
i promised

giving in to that illusion
to love you this much

then
in the morning

it was over

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 17/30


what you cannot say

is that there is still
a race problem in the country
that say
a dark skinned Saudi man
was sought for the injure
of a fragile country’s rebounding psyche
that no one would blame you
for beating up a frightened Pakistani boy
because all those Arabs look alike
like niggers
and the spics
and even if he didn't do this
one day
he’ll probably become a terrorist
what with him being a Muslim and all
and that’s not at the same
as religious intolerance
it’s just that the Christians have never killed people
not in the name of God
and you cannot say
when it turns out not be
a dark skinned Saudi man
that it wasn't a comfort to realize
he was in fact a foreigner
which is not the same at all
as being xenophobic
it is only making sure that people remain fair
you cannot go blaming a group of people
for the actions of two unstable men
what kind of world with this be
if we judged a person by the color of his skin
because that is racist
and we don’t put up with that sort of thing
not here

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 16/30


only the heartbroken know what it means
to witness the world in bittersweet, love
i wanted to call you today
watched a relationship fold into comfort
at the corner of a coffee shop
two lovers entwined in listening
as easy as a handshake
forgot how walking away from you
was the same as being free
knew you were the only one who would understand
why your number is still in my phone
how i keep track of how many times i’ve ignored
your still persistent calling
and i love you
the same way i have learned to love
those early childhood spankings
for all the things they taught
if not the way they felt
even if it always felt home
i have uprooted a life before,
love
i will never answer my phone
please
don’t stop calling

Adventures in NaPoWrimo 15/30


i am so American
when i heard of the bombs going off in Boston
i thought of the trip i’d taken just two weeks before
then to my older brother who used to lived there once
then to a few former friends who proclaimed they were on vacation
then to the score i would get on the poem i would write analyzing the tragedy
then to the 170 wounded
then the 2 deceased
in that order
without any grief

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 14/30


when people tell me act my age
i never know how to respond

when i was twelve years old
i was so unapologetic about what i believed in
i refused to sit near a muslim boy at lunch
afraid that the prayer he said over his food
would somehow offend my god
at twenty-five
i was certain the same god didn’t know my name

thirteen years ago
i had my first pregnancy scare
this week
i teach girls to protect themselves

when i was six
i was certain that writing was my calling
at twenty-seven
i believe the same thing

they say age is nothing but a number
age 21: the legal drinking age
age 7: downing my very first beer
16: driver’s license
19: drove my father to the emergency room; swore never to drive again

i felt my most mature at age ten i think
maybe at seventeen

i want to act my age
just maybe not this one

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 13/30


This poem is proof that if you are getting an idea as you are falling asleep, you should try to scribble it down or give up on it completely. Otherwise, you inflict this kind of...bla....on your dedicated (6?) readers.

and maybe i don’t thank you enough
for the ways you helped me turn out right
spend too much energy
counting down the ways you got it wrong
but i still laugh like you
repeat my stories
hold the room with an ice cold stare
i got a thing for a jazz
a bigger thing for musicians
i lean into the microphone to get a point across
step back a little when i need the crowd to think
and there is always a crowd
even if it’s just your voice in my head on repeat
i aim to please

for a daddy’s girl who’s more disappointment
than she knows what to do with
it gets hard to carve a space for the leftover love to go
but this i do
and do well
because your baby has learned to be the best
in spite of
to wear your name on my chest
and i am grateful for that

in small ways
that normally go without mention

Monday, April 15, 2013

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 12/30


girl how long you been going natural?

most folks with naturals look like they just don’t care

that natural look ain’t for everyone

i would go natural, but i got that african hair

I.
the verb ‘to go’
means to journey from one place to another
the slow and steady of travel and pace
the swapping of one hair texture for the next
like a 21st century transatlantic trade

II.
to enslave an entire people
you better come with more than a whip and chain
your power is not in a lash to the back
but in anything you can strip away
take his language
and his religion
break down his traditions at the root
make him see in anything unlike himself
the definition of something beautiful

III.
why you all turned up at the lip
when you the one artificial

IV.
a chemical straightener
permeates the hair to strip its protein at the root
in this way
we continue to teach ourselves
that to be broken down is beautiful

V.
i been natural for ten years now
it is safe to say i live here
i do not travel back to any place
that nature never intended

VI.
the back to africa movement began in the 1800s
as a simple wish for people to return to a kind of home
it met with majority Black opposition
believing Africa to be
less than the America they came from

VII.
the journey from chemical to not
is more than anything you do with your hair
it is building back what’s been taken away
to settle complete into your own space

VIII.
the word natural
means to be marked by freedom from affectation or constraint
to declare your own concept of beauty
to walk in restoration