Hear me, please.

I want to speak to you in words you understand
Your language.
Let me find your frequency,
Hitting scan all day till you reply.
What combination of knobs and levers.
Will broadcast my soul directly into your airwaves
If I were to whisper in your ear would you hear me in your dreams?
Or am I just the black noise bouncing off the tin roof.
WHY WON'T YOU HEAR ME!?
Respectfully...

Learning Something New

When was the last completely new thing you learned. Was it hard for you to keep on task trying or was there something else pushing you forward? Was it putting a roof over your head or just getting out of a situation you didn’t want to be in? What was the hardest part for you?

I’m trying to find the space in myself to do this. It’s incredibly hard and I sometimes just feel like my brain isn’t up to the task… But I have to be I want to prove I can do this because I don’t want to be where I’m at forever. I need more than this. I want more than this. I feel more trapped than ever and that I can’t get the break I need.

So I’m learning to code and it’s so far from my wheelhouse but, I’m trying harder than I probably ever did at school. It just feels like I’m slamming my head against a brick wall waiting for the things to come together and some of it is, slowly. But I think this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Harder than writing a book, harder than telling my truth, harder than just getting out of bed.

I feel like a lot of what I’ve been doing, though difficult, hasn’t been beat your brain bloody difficult. Other people have done it so I can learn. I just don’t know that I’ll ever be as good as I want to be at anything I try. And a part of me just feels like I’m too old for this. That my brain doesn’t work like it used to, sucking up tidbits of knowledge like a vacuum so I could show everyone how smart I was for a few minutes. These past few weeks have been exhausting for more than one reason but, I’m glad to be doing this. I’m glad to be learning even if it’s been a thing right now.


Hey Readers, why not name the hardest thing you had to do in the comments. Something that really made you dig deep. I think if we share when things don’t come easy for us the hard things become a little easier because it’s not just us who feel like it was difficult. I want this job and I will do what I can to get it. Even if it takes a lot out of me.

Black Culture Month Part 2

I actually did it. I followed through and wrote a part two. Now that probably isn’t surprising for you guys but, if I’m honest my drafts are an absolute mess. I’m going to jump right in with  my next couple of pics.

This YouTube video made me consider what Blackness is as a concept. Maybe I was a bit ignorant when I considered only African Americans as Black. Black is British, French, and anywhere else our people are in the world. I was reluctant to count them amoung  because many of them seemed to be reluctant to count themselves among us. Seperating ourselves and gatekeeping really ruins our collective power in the world.

Cynthia Erivo’s self-hate tweets were classist, discriminatory, and White Supremacist. I don’t want to go over the whole thing but, it started with people getting up in arms about a Black British Woman playing the part of arguably one Black Histories greastest heroes, Harriet Tubman. Sitting there watching the movie with my mother, Super Hero Harriet Tubman was terrible. Please don’t pay to watch that movie. I’m not saying pirate it but, if you happen to find it lying around… Watch the movie, that made me question everything I knew about Mrs. Tubman and not in a good way

Now this book took me on a wild, contemporary, contemplative ride in the most urban of fantasies. With bit of plot there was cojent comentary on something to do with race, economics, immigration, you name it, if it was about the social justice of our world today then this book spoke on it, and well.

N. K. Jemsin might become one of my favorite writers, weaving in ideas that make your brain itch in the best way. The characters she gave in We Are The City Now are of viewpoints I haven’t heard yet. From an ederly, lesbian native woman, to a Middle-aged Black ex-rapper, a plus-sized, Immigrant woman and a Black, Queer sex worker expierencing homelessness. These characters were interesting in not just who they are but, in the diversity of lived expierences. It was a breath of fresh air and gives me the idea that my characters should be more distinct. I want more diverse characters in all types of fiction, so everyone can be seen.

While I don’t agree with everything that MelinaPendulum brings up in her video, I think it’s important to think critically of the things we love and for me that’s Brigerton. She speaks on the diversity, colorism, and that scene. I hope Brigerton fixes some of the problems in their next season. MelinaPendulum is great her takes are whip smart and continue to be one of the many places I go to to hear other Black people speak on pop culture.

Training school for Negro Girls scoured my soul. It was stomach churning, wild ride. Multiple times I felt a despair and defeat that was a different flavor than the one I was used to. I had to put it down many times just to make it through this collection. If this is how it feels to be a Black Woman… Then I have learned a bit of humility.

I say all of this not to deter you but, so you know what you’re getting into. This is well written and the kind of art and writing I only hope I can achieve. This work echoes with emotion and a matter-of-factness that gets to heart of what Camille Acker is trying to say. I hope if you choose to check it out you’ll have as challenging a time as I had.

There are others I haven’t gotten to but, these are some of the ones that have impacted me the most. The Black voice is beautiful and poingnant. We’re seeing it in more places and finally seeing a finally see the diversity of opininions and that we are in no way a monolith.

I might go back into more depth into some of the things I covered here. I haven’t gotten to Malcom and Marie or Black Judas yet and I know those are gonna be bomb. Maybe that’s how I’ll finish everything out.


I don’t own any of these pictures. All images hold original copyright, no copyright infringement meant.

A New Destination

What do you do when someone puts into words a fantasy you didn’t know you’d long for? I mean everything else around you is just so complicated and this seems so right your breath catches. Is this what affairs are made of. Can two unattached people have an affair?

Have you ever wanted something so much you felt guilty? Like you were somehow cheating on all your dreams, things you used to want. Now you’re typing this and you can’t forget the words they said… Were you just settling for a life you thought you wanted?

Maybe it’s a pattern for me. Is it weird that I knew I wanted to write books in elementary school when someone else wrote one? Maybe I only wanted something because I watched someone else enjoying it. While that might be how it started, I know writing was made for me. Finishing a page makes me happy in ways I didn’t know I could be. The closer I get to completing a project the better I feel about my abilities. Now if only I could finish something.

Okay readers, I hope the start of your week goes well and your tax returns come swiftly. My friend is starting a new job and I’m so proud of her. It’s just nice to see that her hard work is finally being realized in the major way it should be.

Uncomfortable

Over the weekend, I did something that made me feel uncomfortable. It scooped my stomach out because I thought it was the right move. I believed that sacrificing my comfort was worth it to make someone else happy. And the worst part is I don’t know if it did.

I wonder sometimes why we do the things we do. Like why do we roll over our gut feelings and instincts to try and make people happy? I mean is it cause it makes us happy? I believe that answer is no. I think the reason we do this is because we can’t stand the tension. I think our fear of even a bit of tension in our lives leads us to do self-destructive things.

I don’t mean things like punching walls or cutting ourselves. Even those are symptoms of a problem built up over time. I mean self-destructive like refusing to apologize or leaving a bad situation. We try so hard to keep that tension inside that it ruptures our insides when if we had released it much earlier it would have been much less a problem than we probably made it out to be.

Now I’m not saying to steamroll over someone else’s feelings but, maybe what you think is a big deal isn’t real. Maybe you should trust your relationships with those people you care about to bear that bit of tension. Maybe they’ll surprise you by understanding and the people who don’t weren’t worth all that much worry anyway. I know that’s easier said than done, throwing out your bad relationships but, I will tell you that they lift so much weight and anxiety from your shoulders.

So good luck out there, Readers, dealing with your uncomfortable feelings but, maybe you have a better way of dealing with them than I do. I knew this was probably going to be a lot for me going in and I just didn’t listen to myself. Hopefully, you all are better listeners. Has anything made you uncomfortable recently? Maybe comment on this blog, get that feeling out. It’s quiet over here no many people listening but, you and me.

Wren

Wandering,

Wondering,

Wonderland Wren.

Has left the Earth,

And returned again

Waring,

Wearing,

Wrathful Wren

Fears no more

And yields even less

Worrying,

Waiting,

Warm-hearted Wren

No longer will shrink,
Won’t even try

Wading,

Waxing,

Willful Wren

Soars in on wings,

of ambition and desire

Winging,

Wringing,

Witty Wren

Don’t let them catch you

Whatever you do

Wandering,

Wondering,

Wonderland Wren

Has left the Earth,
And returned again.

A Poem About Unfettered Benevolence

I could have written my rage on the page

Dragged you in metaphor and smilie

Damned you in with grammar

and well constructed lines

But, I’m better than that

I’m not that guy

I wouldn’t do that

I won’t write an open letter,

listing all of your faults

Or compose poetry to your misdeeds

Tearing you down in couplets

Slamming you with soliloquy

Play you like a playwright

However, I’m a benevolent master of the written word

I won’t shame you here…

just know that I could

Hey this was meant to be a kind of funny tongue and cheek thing, I hope you like it while I finish up a few of my longer blog posts and maybe even debut a short story. Hope your week goes well damn, hope my does too.

Clippings of Conversation

I still remember your “Hey”s and sighs
I recite your dreams
Sing your tears
Can’t forget your heartbeat
And cadence
But I only hear clippings of conversations

I remember my rage
My angst
Your sweet toxin
Our Warmth
Hours of my life swallowed up in perfect lips
Only loose thoughts reach out

I remember pain and loss
Moving forward
Death
Mass annihilation
Bounding betrayals
But I only have clippings of conversations

Our time blurred
I am not the same man
But I wonder would you love me
Would your kisses taste the same
Even with just clippings
I have more than you

Is or Was

I have given much thought to the idea that people who leave us, don’t always leave us. Maybe we think about them less; Or morn the people they’d become. But, we don’t forget the things they loved, the ideas they had. We even keep their saved games. So is was, right?

Like green was his favorite color or her smile was as bright as the sun. I want to choose is. I don’t know if that would still be true. If they were still alive maybe they’d be sick of the things they used to love. But, I want to say Green is his favorite color and He has a soft spot for monkey. She was first person to say she liked my hair long and she taught me so many things with a smile that was so filled with the joie de vivre.

All I’m saying is sometimes it feels better to say is instead of was and I’m giving you the power to choose. I’m not super spiritual myself but, think they things they showed us and taught us aren’t gone so maybe that means they aren’t either. I find comfort in being a web of expeirences touched by others. Our lives are passion projects and those people who touch our lives are the florishing sheet that goes over our grand design.

Live well, readers. Maybe meditate on this for a bit. Tell me about your choice: Is or Was and give me a like or check out some of the other things I’ve written.

Despiration vol. 1

Where do you put your work in

Where does your heart go

I just want to hear you say something

Maybe this is what I was missing before

I wanna hear more than I love you

more than I want you

Do you really know me

or just the parts I show you

please just see me

I’m right here in front of you