The Bus Driver

It was a hot muggy august afternoon. As the bus pulled up, a cloud of red dust swirled around her. She hated that red dust. It always clung to her shoes and clothing staining it a rusty mud color that proved impossible to clean. The doors of the bus creaked open and she stared blankly at the bus driver, hoping that it was the right bus. The woman read her puzzled look and barked in a low voice "Olive branch middle school?" The frightened girl answered "yes". As she began to make her first step onto the bus the woman barked again "yes, WHAT?" The girls face looked even more puzzled than before and she stood there frozen frantically searching her brain for the "what" in question. Offended, the bus driver barked again "Yes ma'am." and glared at the girl as if she wanted to slap her right off the bus steps. "Yes ma'am" the girl repeated as she stepped onto the bus feeling as if the bus driver had just asked her to speak Chinese. It seemed strange to her, and she felt strange that she hadn't known better. She was in Olive Branch, Mississippi now, but her demeanor still screamed Yankee mulatto, even when her thick Midwestern accent didn't give it away. She sat down on the bus in a lone seat, unsure of what the rest of the day would bring.

An Ode To Chicago

Chicago birthed me
The land where my feet touched the earth
Me as a child in a city so wild
It never would desert me
With its skyscrapers
And landscapers
The city of risk takers
Money makers
City of dreams
Where we dress mean
And we walk meaner
And if you've seen her
You know she's the king
But I was taken from her
Warm embrace
To a new place
And I hardly remember
It was hot and dry and
I didn't know why
But I came right back
To your skyline
Then there was the time
I went to your neighbor
for a different flavor
it was terribly dry
So back we came
Into your arms again
And quenched my thirst
Where I drank first
My favorite urban wine
There was the place
Deep in the south
We found ourselves calling
Home for a while
I never smiled I was
Not alive
My life belonged
To the city I longed
I've left you again
My old friend
Off to somewhere new
To pursue
Those dreams that started wild
You watered them
And nurtured them
Beneath your skyline
Time after time
Cradled me in the arms
Your charms
Stay with me evermore
A chitown girl
At heart
With the world at her door

The Sea and the Desert

With her head down
She sat and pondered
Twirled her hair between her fingers
Her eyes fixed on nothing
And the thoughts began flooding her
As the water rose
She felt she would go under
So she reaches her hand across
To the place that made
Those thoughts quiet
As if she had pulled
A rough blanket over them
They were now a dull roar
As her fingers glided
Like so many times before
So sensitive
To every discovery
Each one was a stone
On a path that took her
Far, far away
From the rising waters
To a desert sand
Whose scorching heat
And harsh winds
Gave her only temporary relief
Until her thirst overcame her
And once more into the water
She had to plunge
She longed never to visit the desert
She longed to build a boat
That would carry her
Upon her sea
To a land with green pastures
Tall majestic mountains
With the streams and rivers
That may rush through her land
But could never swallow her
So she began to build
And when the water would rise
She picked up another plank
And kept building
And when she felt herself
Reaching for the desert
She swallowed the bitter sea water
Knowing one day she could drink
Of the fresh flowing waters of her stream
So she kept building
Because no matter how oppressive the waves
She could swim
The desert left her with nothing
Sucked her dry and left her a shell
So she kept building
In hopes of never again returning
To that desolate place
In fear that the sea
Would carry her away
She keeps building
For with each piece she builds
A little more of her was lifted
Out of the water
And onto the boat
And she rested
With each plank
She kept building

Little Sticky Note

A table full of
bright yellow sticky notes
lined with scribbled half sentences
scratched out and filled in
smudged blue fingers
rapidly peel away
the sticky thoughts
folding them gently
tucked away for
late night storms
and scattered release
when no one is around
when the shadows dance
upon the face of time
my face
it hides
between these lines
every word
shatters into a million
little pieces
bringing hope
fear
love
here on these notes
I write history
I write my story
I write eternity

Make It

Verse 1
This is the story of a girl
Born too soon into this world
On the first of the year
It only caused her mama tears
They said we're sorry ma'am
But we've done all we can
Your baby girl is fighting
But her body just can't take it
We're afraid that she just doesn't have the strength

Chorus
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it

Verse 2
Fast forward a couple of years 
She so little with such big fears
From her daddy disowned
So her mama had to do it alone
But when he'd come around
He'd only beat her down
Her daddy didn't want her
And she could never shake it
With the love from her mama she was just gonna have 

Chorus
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it

Verse 3
Forward a couple years more
She is feelin so insecure
She doesn't know her worth
Always feelin used and hurt
By people that she trusted
Now her heart is busted
But no one wants a damaged girl 
So she had to fake it
She thought if she did maybe she could find a way

Chorus
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it

(Special Verse 4)
Now it's not enough
Now she acts so tough
But in her eyes you'll see
That girl who wished to be
Loved and protected
Not left and rejected
She's staring right back at me...

Verse 5
Now she's all grown up
She's found a better love
Cuz god gave her a gift
He gave her a voice to lift
The heartache and sorrow
The fears of tomorrow
Now she knows her worth
And she'll never forsake it
She learned to love herself and now she's got the strength

Chorus
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it
To make it, to make it

Just me

All my life
I thought I knew everything about myself
I thought I could hide
The things I didn't like
Thought it was better to be someone else

I pushed aside
What I thought was holding me down
But I was wrong
It was me all along
You were the one to show me how

It was tough at first

tried to resist it

tried to play the same old part

you wasn't with it

tried to act like i knew

but you knew better

and I swear I'll never forget ya

if i live
to be a hundred and ten
i'd do it all over again
if one day
I gotta say goodbye to you
baby it could never undo
if this life
tells us that we gotta part
just know that you got my heart
cuz you let me be
just me, just me

Now I try
to be myself in everything i do
say how i feel
and keep it real
cuz when I do no way can i disappoint you

I tried to hide
you taught me how to seek
I tried to cover up
You showed the underneath
I was stubborn
but I guess I taught you patience
And I thank you for waiting

if i live
to be a hundred and ten

i'd do it all over again

if one day  

I gotta say goodbye to you

baby it could never undo

if this life

tells us that we gotta part

just know that you got my heart

cuz you let me be

just me, just me

I tried so hard to be perfect
but what i didn't see
perfect was there all along
because i'm always perfect at being imperfectly me

if i live

to be a hundred and ten 

i'd do it all over again

if one day  

I gotta say goodbye to you

baby it could never undo

if this life

tells us that we gotta part

just know that you got my heart

cuz you let me be

just me, just me

Strange Love

Every word misspoken
Every promise broken
Times where I thought I had failed myself
They say love yourself
And all will be right
happy, bright
but it's a strange, strange love

You say you're gonna win
until you do it again
why can't you love yourself right
be happy, be bright
it will all be alright
when you find that strange, strange love

read all the books
and stop in the mirror
look at yourself
while your turnin around
they say you're not happy
well how could you be
when your smile looks more like a frown
don't you know that strange, strange love
can turn it all around?

if we were meant to know
i guess we'd never grow
you hope it doesn't haunt your whole life
so be happy, be bright
you're doin alright
keep chasin that strange, strange love

Upon The Wind

On my branch I clung real tight
in hopes that i might stay
My twig it started seperatin'
I feared I'd drift away
Oh where would the wild wind blow me?
How far off would I stray?
I didn't wanna leave
But it had to be this way

The wind it took me up so high

I thought I'd never fall

And times I fell so low 

I thought I'd finally seen it all

My tree it gave me safety
From the pourin rain and thunder
But now I've grown too big for it
And was therefore torn asunder

A little leaf upon the wind
Like a grain upon the sand
may seem so awfully small
when you take the world at hand
and though I fly upon the wind
sometimes unable to see
I must never forget that one leaf
has what it takes to become a tree

Perfect

from crooked to straight
now it's perfect
we appreciate
because it's perfect
but perhaps it was more beautiful
when it was not quite right before
you move it to the left
not satisfied
you move it to the right
and still you find
it still is not where you want it to be

so you fix it til it's perfect
but now do you observe it?
do you notice it as you pass on by?
no longer, now it's perfect
it needs no further work
it has become no matter now
but now it's perfect.

The Dream

The roar of the crowd dulled down to an anticipatory silence. You could feel the impatience hang in the air like the smoke of the city hangs motionless in a summer heat wave. She stepped up to the microphone and at first, it seemed the room was bare; but once she strained her eyes past the spotlights she could see thousands of faces peering up at her in amazement, their eyes fixed, their ears open. They were intently listening for that note they knew so well, for the drum beat that would send their souls spinning and make the hair on the back of their neck stand in sweet satisfaction. She was ready. She had been practicing all day. Going over it in her head in order to preserve her voice, making sure it was beautiful, emotional, perfect. She drew in a breath as the band took their places, she knew she had to start everything. Her first notes were A Capella and they had to be dead on. No pitch pipe, no reminder, just the mastery of her mind. Her pulse quickened and her cheeks began to twitch as they always did when she was nervous, but she appeared calm and collected as her heart jumped waiting to be released. She didn't know what was going to happen next, her two feet seemed cemented to the stage. She needed to let go to be set free. To release the moment and become fearless. And as she exhaled the note washed over the entire stage spilling over the audience and as it hit their ears they stood and cheered. It was their favorite song.

What is beauty?

is it natural
or is it created
are we born with it
or do we develop it
can it be all these things?


questions to ponder for the day

carpe diem

seize the day
hold it in your hands
like a piece of clay
mold every minute
they tick away
never to be had again

so quickly the clock spins
while all day we wait
lament our former sins
and tremble at our fate
but oh this minute
is never to be had again

some melodies just drive you insane until you put the words to them

I'm more likely to remember you by lyrics
than by what you said
sometimes I'd rather watch a movie 
Than go out and party instead
Some days I feel like a mess
And I want to hide away
Some days I feel like a princess
And everythings ok

You wanna know about me?
Sometimes I laugh too loud
But I'll do my best to make you laugh louder
You wanna know about me?
I'm not just black and white
I'm every shade inbetween and every color

I forget at least one thing a day
My purse, my keys, my coat, my way
Don't ask directions I'm probably lost myself
But I'll remember your favorite song
And yes I'll dance all night long
in heels no less, and a dress
and I'll be singing all the way home

You wanna know about me?
sometimes the rain falls hard on me
but I let my smile always be my umbrella
You wanna know about me?
I hate romantic movies
but still dream of that handsome charming fella

Sometimes I'm wrong
I make mistakes
Still not sure how to play the game
I just want to be myself

Some days are bad but most are good
My heart is big
and if I could
I'd sing my heart out
Every single day

You wanna know about me?
Well if you have a moment
Let me show you things that you didn't see 
You wanna know about me?
The ride is never boring
so buckle up and take a ride with me

So buckle up
I'm gonna set you free...

Hair

Tight curls knotted underneath
from the weight and scorching heat
get flattened on the oppressive plates
or fried in stinking liquid fates
long and glossy
watch it move
evoking words like "silky smooth"
born from tangled nappy messes
know we have our lovely tresses
so thank you Motions and Ogilvie
you've delivered us from cruelty
from afro puffs and kinky twists
not here, no nappiness exists
just glue it, fuse it, braid it in
and let the pain begin
we rose with slavery upon or backs
only to be a slave to tracks

The Google Art Project

The Google Art Project is this great new idea that Google has launched that allows you to tour and view artwork in museums and galleries around the world. You can walk through them as if you were really there or zoom in to see Van Gogh's brush strokes. I will be looking at many of the pieces here and any interesting ones I find I'd like to include in this blog, I encourage you all to take a look!

The Beginning

"Mommy, why don't I look like you?" the girl looked up at her mother with a puzzling look as if she had just discovered the phenomenon. "Honey, you look just like me, see." Her mother held her up to the mirror and brushed away her tangled curls. She pressed her cheek up against her daughters, as if the closer she got the more apparent the similarities would be. "You have my nose, and we have the same cheeks" pinching the girls cheeks, she evoked a stubborn grin. "And look, you even have my smile." The little girl's grin soon wilted into frustration for she was not satisfied with her mother's evidence. "No mommy, I have swirly hair. You have hair like my Barbie" Now her mother saw that her five year old was asking a much more complicated question. She understood she was different, the way a green apple sticks out in a basket of red ones. The little girl had not been exposed to many biracial children, at least not in a way that she could grasp at such a young age. She herself was not aware of her own mixed heritage. At five brown is brown, no matter how it got that way. She understood that babies came from mommy and daddy, but to explain the genetics involved in the baby's appearance to a five year old would be futile. So her mother pacified her with her usual answers until she was old enough to understand how. Of course, this question could not be answered by the simple fact that white mixed with black makes brown. It didn't explain why she felt different and why that difference felt wrong.

In Between

I am caught 

Somewhere between polo shirts

And white t's

between dinner parties

and backyard barbecues

But those things are common

I am caught

Somewhere between french braids

and cornrows

between Frank Sinatra

and Tupac Shakur

But those things are trivial

I am caught

Somewhere between affirmative action

and negative reaction

between your curiosity

and your accusation

But those things are questionable

I am caught

between not enough

and just enough

between your love

and your fear

But those things are imaginary

So why then, would I feel offense?

I am in between

When you speak ill of my brothers and sisters

Surely you don't mean me,

only those who look like me