i don't know what he did
beyond smile
but I'm stuck now
finger flippin through the index of
there'll never be another for me
to imagine the brilliant possibility
not of a lifetime
for we have lived
before there was any we
just the next time
there'll be a next time
to be in his company
cuz, i've learned, loved, and lost
enough to know
to count blessings in single digits
so today
i'm smiling brighter
because I believe he is
today
i'm falling cuz i feel like it
feel like I got wingspan enough
to catch myself
and because I'd lose points with him
if I didn't
i have no explaination
for the way time works
the perfect timing of floodgates opening
just when I've become man enough to cry
and sometimes this current joy is such that
I have no other option:
grab the pillows
hold them against my beating heart
and dream that this feeling will stay
and him too
such sweet syncopation
like the undiscovered harmonies we find
in songs we sentimentally share
that all the sudden sound different
such easy listening
and perhaps the greatest joy we've known
is waiting for our courage to be shown
so I'm here
chest stuck out
willing to go to war
in order to keep feeling
this feeling
this brilliant possibility
so check it...
i'll continue to bask in the glow
of this gem I've found
til it loses it's shine
even then I'll spit shine and refine
for time is the good counsel of wine
and I've willed this joy in heart and mind
during heart-hurts and romantic decline
when I could not find the will to be kind
especially to myself
so unready for the good loving
of anyone else
but that was yesterday
and today,
i'll remind this man in whatever ways i can
that this is worth the wait,
these perfect imperfections
piecing this puzzle together
and i'll continue to remind myself
that this feels so good
because I've longed for it so
because my eyes long for tears of joy
because they river down my face
and the pain, the wait, make sense
the hurt, the loneliness I remember
so that I can forget it
all the sudden, make sense
and if in just a few short days
his smile can make me brave enough to say
I wanna be stronger than past pain
stripped down and bare
unscripted and adoring like anyone who sees
these eyes on him
then it is nothing short of a miracle
that has patiently been waiting
for the right time
to reveal itself to me
no, I am no longer afraid to see
this brilliant possibility
Sunday, July 17, 2005
the healers
(for zaki, aunt everlean, ivah, marcus and countless others)
i pray that we remember
the lessons we were taught by healers
when the time comes
for them to be healed
for I know black womyn
so fierce in their loving
that it burdens the body
the excesses of their love
bleed beyond their poetry
beyond the kitchen scents they conjure up
beyond the hugging they do with eyes
like when they start to miss you
before you leave
so i am saying a prayer
for these womyn who weep sometimes in silence
that some of the courage they'll need
to get past these uncertain diagnoses
these little lumps
that threaten to spread
that lurk like doubt does in our heads
until carved out
when we sometimes
have to carve out space
between the rock and hard space
i pray our prayers will be enough
to heal healers.
yes, I hope for the leap of faith
that those who love the healers must take
to get beyond these hurdles
be strong for womyn who've shown
nothing but strength
then we can grant them permission to be
scared, weak, afriad
because we are stong enough
not to be
for their sake
because we believe in miracles
blessed as holy water
sacred as olive oil
on pentecostal foreheads
because we were taught well by womyn
who dare to envision our safety
so fiercely
they make it so
yes, i pray that we remember
the lessons we were taught by healers
when the time comes
for them to be healed
i pray that we remember
the lessons we were taught by healers
when the time comes
for them to be healed
for I know black womyn
so fierce in their loving
that it burdens the body
the excesses of their love
bleed beyond their poetry
beyond the kitchen scents they conjure up
beyond the hugging they do with eyes
like when they start to miss you
before you leave
so i am saying a prayer
for these womyn who weep sometimes in silence
that some of the courage they'll need
to get past these uncertain diagnoses
these little lumps
that threaten to spread
that lurk like doubt does in our heads
until carved out
when we sometimes
have to carve out space
between the rock and hard space
i pray our prayers will be enough
to heal healers.
yes, I hope for the leap of faith
that those who love the healers must take
to get beyond these hurdles
be strong for womyn who've shown
nothing but strength
then we can grant them permission to be
scared, weak, afriad
because we are stong enough
not to be
for their sake
because we believe in miracles
blessed as holy water
sacred as olive oil
on pentecostal foreheads
because we were taught well by womyn
who dare to envision our safety
so fiercely
they make it so
yes, i pray that we remember
the lessons we were taught by healers
when the time comes
for them to be healed
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Ever crushed on somebody so hard it hurt....?
I met someone this weekend and there's a pain in my chest that won't go away. I always seem to get stuck there, only to get cold feet or see a red flag, whichever comes first. at present, I'm just hoping to hear from him again today.
so I never reported back about the shows in Chicago. Much love there... I did a Black Pride Conference Workshop, a poetry SLAM (judge and performer), a park festival, and brought my "Front Porch" event to Chicago's Spoken Word Cafe. Time with my boy Ernest (ATL) was nice, though I sense at this point that he has interpreted it differently. I suppose it's better to sort this kind of thing out early in the exploration rather than later. no hard feelings. we are who we be; and I've no apologies about being me. He's a good guy. I'm happy for the time there we shared.
Also hung out with some okayplayers "in the life" in Chi:
www.okayplayer.com
ahmsofunky, sonjevity, tyler madison, unique1ne, and some other fly peeps from Lalah Hathaway's PANK room, like Dreadlock, DMoSoul, Controversy, and NewKeith. I'm so fortunate to meet some of the people I do... and, more than this, have them respect the legacy I'm building, word by word.
so then i returned to DC...and it's sort of weird. I started a new job teaching at Cesar Chavez High School for Public Policy it seems hours after I returned from Chi (July 4th, bombs bursting in air, and ain't I proud to be an American?! yeah, yeah, yeah).
The school seems pretty cool:
www.cesarchavezhs.org
It's a professional shift in many ways, but it's where my heart is. It's also a pay cut, but I really enjoy it. I don't think i would have accepted any of the jobs I've had if it was only about money. I'm glad for people like us with "madd" ability but who sometimes choose unpaved paths where lost souls require our guidance to build their bridges and pathways. It ain't a breeze. I've been having some difficulty adjusting to the early mornings, because I'm a night owl (6+ years of graduate school will do that)... so it's terribly hard for me to go to bed early... I stress about not being sleepy and then that makes it worse. But I'm excited about greeting the students and opening their minds and hearts to especially their own brilliance. My sense is that the expectations for these students are low; and I honestly have some (racialized) concerns about that... but I push my students, and most of them are really rising to the challenge or exceeding it. I think they know that I'm fun guy, but expect a lot. It's a good place for me now.
It's funny how just a week into teaching the word "fag" flies out of somebody's mouth, and you're in that position of bursting the closet door at school. I didn't "come out", I just offered a lesson on the origins of the term and the bigotry that compliments it. My students don't know I'm gay (unless they're reading my blog or website. LOL) and there's been plenty of evidence of this: "Mr. West... you're such a sensitive, good guy. The womyn must be crazy about you." Mr. West "that's cool that you don't hate gay people". Lil man felt horrible and apologized to the class. He didn't mean any harm. Some would have sent him to the detention with no real engagement of the incognizance of his slip; and the word was targeted at no one.
Yes, it's Mr. West. The tough-guy, sensitive teacher with the bleeding he-art. The womyn are crazy about me... and so are lots of the guys. LOL. I'm sure I'll cross that bridge soon. I'm a better teacher when I'm "out", but don't care to "prompt" the conversation or make it an "issue" worthy of discussion. It's simply a fact of who I am... and if and when the right conversation arrives, I'll deal with it appropriately and professionally.
so my birthday was actually Wednesday (almost a week ago), and because people knew I was celebrating it at the July Front Porch (July 7th), it turned out to be a rather depressing and uneventful day. I waited at home for somebody to actually call and drag me out of the house (a movie, a drink, somethin).... and no one did... at least no one who I expected or wanted to call. Sometimes I can be oddly passive/aggressive about my desire for good/loving company. My Oakland people know this, so a few good hours with no contact and them nukkas gone be banging on my door. LOL. I miss that. I miss being missed with that level of urgency.
Lately I've been wanting more substantive, quality contact.... or prefer to be alone altogether. I like my time alone.... but the relationship bugg is biting as strong as ever. I desire the consistency of a voice that I believe has my best interests at heart... and without condition. I'm open to that now... but once and again i meet a cutie, and the red flag goes a waving.... and I run back inside my shell and say.... "oh, hells no!" I don't want anything (again) if it doesn't feel good. Why do people who want to be involved thrive on things like guilt, manipulation, shame, and drama? Sorry... it's just not the way I wanna do things anymore. I believe that things can be happy, supportive, communicative, and with mutual understanding and trust in people's intentions (even or especially where words or actions fail..... because they almost always do... and I want a love that respects my intentions).
so..... in other, mushy, platonic-friend news, my boy Derrick Stubberfield had a little birthday gathering for me on Saturday (July 9th). It's nice to spend time around people who you don't necessarily see as often as you'd like, but whose friendship purely shows evidence of its rootedness. We could have been at a mall in Durham as college boyz, were it not for my amassing frame and daddy embellishments. D. hasn't changed a bit... and that's a good thing. It was good that Cenzo and Chad came through... and another special someone too, though I was honestly faced with the uncomfortable reality that some affections I have will always remain unrequited. I wondered what that does to the heart, if you hang on for too long. Is it like Hughes' dream deferred? I want wine these days, not raisins. I want the sweet stuff that is the reward of my time, patience, and integrity; not the quick fix sweetness the armored knight provides-- his fleeting presence a mere reminder of the perverse inadequacy of his absence. I want the stuff that sticks and that I think about all day... and that gives me focus in both work and play. I want the perfect timing the cosmos will provide, when I'll ask him out for a simple meal... and give in to the ghosts of the poems I romance... and open up enough to ask "can I see, speak, share some air with you tomorrow, or the next day? can I call you to say goodnight or good morning?".... And when it happens I think I'll cry... and be okay about that.
the thought alone, nearly brings me to tears. cuz it's been years... and I've been through some shit i haven't had the courage to talk about. and some who I've loved the most might suggest that I didn't love hard at all...
nonetheless, there's somethign about this present, this cancerian season that is giving me courage to imagine I have wings for this jump...
and fall.
ya'll will all know when I have. I have never been able to keep good love a secret. and I've been quiet, except for the muse of a possibility here or there, for too long.
it's time. and I'm claiming it to the universe.
so I never reported back about the shows in Chicago. Much love there... I did a Black Pride Conference Workshop, a poetry SLAM (judge and performer), a park festival, and brought my "Front Porch" event to Chicago's Spoken Word Cafe. Time with my boy Ernest (ATL) was nice, though I sense at this point that he has interpreted it differently. I suppose it's better to sort this kind of thing out early in the exploration rather than later. no hard feelings. we are who we be; and I've no apologies about being me. He's a good guy. I'm happy for the time there we shared.
Also hung out with some okayplayers "in the life" in Chi:
www.okayplayer.com
ahmsofunky, sonjevity, tyler madison, unique1ne, and some other fly peeps from Lalah Hathaway's PANK room, like Dreadlock, DMoSoul, Controversy, and NewKeith. I'm so fortunate to meet some of the people I do... and, more than this, have them respect the legacy I'm building, word by word.
so then i returned to DC...and it's sort of weird. I started a new job teaching at Cesar Chavez High School for Public Policy it seems hours after I returned from Chi (July 4th, bombs bursting in air, and ain't I proud to be an American?! yeah, yeah, yeah).
The school seems pretty cool:
www.cesarchavezhs.org
It's a professional shift in many ways, but it's where my heart is. It's also a pay cut, but I really enjoy it. I don't think i would have accepted any of the jobs I've had if it was only about money. I'm glad for people like us with "madd" ability but who sometimes choose unpaved paths where lost souls require our guidance to build their bridges and pathways. It ain't a breeze. I've been having some difficulty adjusting to the early mornings, because I'm a night owl (6+ years of graduate school will do that)... so it's terribly hard for me to go to bed early... I stress about not being sleepy and then that makes it worse. But I'm excited about greeting the students and opening their minds and hearts to especially their own brilliance. My sense is that the expectations for these students are low; and I honestly have some (racialized) concerns about that... but I push my students, and most of them are really rising to the challenge or exceeding it. I think they know that I'm fun guy, but expect a lot. It's a good place for me now.
It's funny how just a week into teaching the word "fag" flies out of somebody's mouth, and you're in that position of bursting the closet door at school. I didn't "come out", I just offered a lesson on the origins of the term and the bigotry that compliments it. My students don't know I'm gay (unless they're reading my blog or website. LOL) and there's been plenty of evidence of this: "Mr. West... you're such a sensitive, good guy. The womyn must be crazy about you." Mr. West "that's cool that you don't hate gay people". Lil man felt horrible and apologized to the class. He didn't mean any harm. Some would have sent him to the detention with no real engagement of the incognizance of his slip; and the word was targeted at no one.
Yes, it's Mr. West. The tough-guy, sensitive teacher with the bleeding he-art. The womyn are crazy about me... and so are lots of the guys. LOL. I'm sure I'll cross that bridge soon. I'm a better teacher when I'm "out", but don't care to "prompt" the conversation or make it an "issue" worthy of discussion. It's simply a fact of who I am... and if and when the right conversation arrives, I'll deal with it appropriately and professionally.
so my birthday was actually Wednesday (almost a week ago), and because people knew I was celebrating it at the July Front Porch (July 7th), it turned out to be a rather depressing and uneventful day. I waited at home for somebody to actually call and drag me out of the house (a movie, a drink, somethin).... and no one did... at least no one who I expected or wanted to call. Sometimes I can be oddly passive/aggressive about my desire for good/loving company. My Oakland people know this, so a few good hours with no contact and them nukkas gone be banging on my door. LOL. I miss that. I miss being missed with that level of urgency.
Lately I've been wanting more substantive, quality contact.... or prefer to be alone altogether. I like my time alone.... but the relationship bugg is biting as strong as ever. I desire the consistency of a voice that I believe has my best interests at heart... and without condition. I'm open to that now... but once and again i meet a cutie, and the red flag goes a waving.... and I run back inside my shell and say.... "oh, hells no!" I don't want anything (again) if it doesn't feel good. Why do people who want to be involved thrive on things like guilt, manipulation, shame, and drama? Sorry... it's just not the way I wanna do things anymore. I believe that things can be happy, supportive, communicative, and with mutual understanding and trust in people's intentions (even or especially where words or actions fail..... because they almost always do... and I want a love that respects my intentions).
so..... in other, mushy, platonic-friend news, my boy Derrick Stubberfield had a little birthday gathering for me on Saturday (July 9th). It's nice to spend time around people who you don't necessarily see as often as you'd like, but whose friendship purely shows evidence of its rootedness. We could have been at a mall in Durham as college boyz, were it not for my amassing frame and daddy embellishments. D. hasn't changed a bit... and that's a good thing. It was good that Cenzo and Chad came through... and another special someone too, though I was honestly faced with the uncomfortable reality that some affections I have will always remain unrequited. I wondered what that does to the heart, if you hang on for too long. Is it like Hughes' dream deferred? I want wine these days, not raisins. I want the sweet stuff that is the reward of my time, patience, and integrity; not the quick fix sweetness the armored knight provides-- his fleeting presence a mere reminder of the perverse inadequacy of his absence. I want the stuff that sticks and that I think about all day... and that gives me focus in both work and play. I want the perfect timing the cosmos will provide, when I'll ask him out for a simple meal... and give in to the ghosts of the poems I romance... and open up enough to ask "can I see, speak, share some air with you tomorrow, or the next day? can I call you to say goodnight or good morning?".... And when it happens I think I'll cry... and be okay about that.
the thought alone, nearly brings me to tears. cuz it's been years... and I've been through some shit i haven't had the courage to talk about. and some who I've loved the most might suggest that I didn't love hard at all...
nonetheless, there's somethign about this present, this cancerian season that is giving me courage to imagine I have wings for this jump...
and fall.
ya'll will all know when I have. I have never been able to keep good love a secret. and I've been quiet, except for the muse of a possibility here or there, for too long.
it's time. and I'm claiming it to the universe.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
So I turned 33 today!
not sure how I feel. mostly good. wrote something playful:
33 is numerical matrix miracle
afterglow post-sex bedsheet material
almost as seductively spiritual
as lexicon diaries i scan for d'lyricals
my nukkas suggest that sheddin th cynicals
provides half a chance romance to dance
flipped versatile as my b-boy stance
banji realness to house beatz: now prance!
open corner-kissed by cupid's shadow dance
a rise in the pants upon his suggestive glance
i'm just a flirt, there's no need to advance
heart's been safer feeling that feeling I've banned
cupid's a crunk ass nukka, no bow and arrow
just a heart transplant for reddirter's sorrow
my third eye remains keenly aware of this tension
hopes that someday I live to embrace my redemption
yes I want the wedding the cake and the kids
yes I want due props for my reddirt biz
Osun tells me that if I hold out and just LIVE
I'll receive all the he-art, I so freely give
a keystyle for friendz who inspire my smile,
know the source of my pain is real, not a style
and who'll help me to 66, cherished memories filed
i plan to get there, stay near me a while...
Love ALL Ya'll NUKKAS!
33 is numerical matrix miracle
afterglow post-sex bedsheet material
almost as seductively spiritual
as lexicon diaries i scan for d'lyricals
my nukkas suggest that sheddin th cynicals
provides half a chance romance to dance
flipped versatile as my b-boy stance
banji realness to house beatz: now prance!
open corner-kissed by cupid's shadow dance
a rise in the pants upon his suggestive glance
i'm just a flirt, there's no need to advance
heart's been safer feeling that feeling I've banned
cupid's a crunk ass nukka, no bow and arrow
just a heart transplant for reddirter's sorrow
my third eye remains keenly aware of this tension
hopes that someday I live to embrace my redemption
yes I want the wedding the cake and the kids
yes I want due props for my reddirt biz
Osun tells me that if I hold out and just LIVE
I'll receive all the he-art, I so freely give
a keystyle for friendz who inspire my smile,
know the source of my pain is real, not a style
and who'll help me to 66, cherished memories filed
i plan to get there, stay near me a while...
Love ALL Ya'll NUKKAS!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
