Sorry to disappoint... no poetry here tonight.

...but there is some reflection and introspection. I'm feeling some kinda way, and thinking about some really touchy things right now. I'm in that frame of mind that Alise would call "moodtrospective" and not really liking it.

See, sometimes in life, you can know the source of your angst (I hate that word, but couldn't pull a more appropriate one outta my arse at the moment). You can know the source, but still not be able to change it. Even if you wanna. Even if you know it would be for the best. Sometimes you can almost see the change, and still not be able to make the change. So in the mean time...

Suffer the consequences of being stuck in your moodtrospective rut.

I know there is some change coming in my future. And I know some kinda way doesn't last forever. Even if I'm not sure how I'm gonna make it happen. And even if I'm not sure when.

Acceptance

Acceptance is all that I ask,

and the best gift I have to give.

It is the air that I breathe

and food to my spirit,

the freedom to be who I am,

the liberty to live

without pretending.

I have come too far,

and lived too long,

and I am too tired

to play make believe,

for anyone.

I don't have the reserves any more.

Don't ask me

to put on a costume,

don a mask,

act in a play

just to provide you a comfort zone.

If who I am makes you uncomfortable,

I apologize,

but I will not change.

I will not lie.

I will not make believe.

This is who I am.

Accept me,

and I will give you acceptance

in kind.

I will love you

for your flaws.

I will find humor

in your quirks,

and humility

in your triumphs.

When you are weak,

I will help you to stand.

When you are silent,

I will listen to what you leave unsaid.

When you are pensive,

I will respect your mind.

And I promise...

I will not force you

to play a role,

pretend a life,

invent a persona

more palatable to me.

I will accept you for who you are,

by loving you as who I am.

For this, my best gift,

Acceptance is all I ask.

road trip with erykah

I've been working on this poem for a little while now, and was having trouble with it after the second stanza. So, I did what you have probably come to expect of me, and I ran it past Alise... my poetry guru. *waves to Alise*

Her words of wisdom were let it find the flow, and the rest would ride its own wave in... and tonight, it did.

Check out Alise's blog coz she's the business!

Black Woman Lost & Found

Road Trip With Erykah

Shifting into drive, and rollin' out

Miles stretching out before me like a promise.

My travelling companions on the pre-dawn highway...

my over-taxed,

overflowing,

over-active

mind

And Erykah's voice.

The sun rises to my left and

waves away the dusky purple shadow

of night's last sigh.

"Honayyyyyy...... you're soooo sweet"

the lyric coincides with the gilding of a new day.

Note by note and mile by mile

driving the pain away,

leaving Thought along the road,

let that raggedy hitch hiker fend for herself.

Lyrics, fluid from my speakers,

flood my mind.

Rising like the tide

to wash away the memories

and burdens.

In this solitude with Erykah's voice,

I am finding a small, quiet place.

It is mine.

And the miles roll on under my tires.

I am farther from home,

closer to where I am going,

and not wanting to get there.

Yearning for the journey,

not the destination.

It is mine.

Like silk ribbon through slack fingers,

the notes slip through my brain.

Caressing away the tense expectation

of resistance yet to come.

For now, the music says,

let this be enough.

Let go.

Yes...

Let this ride last a little longer,

safe and alone in my capsule of sound,

wheels turning...

and delivering me away....

Even if it is temporary,

it will be enough,

and...

it is mine.

before and after times

This is something I worked on today and wasn't sure if I was ready to post. But after I ran it past Alise n got a little feedback, I decided what the hell...

Now, baby, you know I'm into you.

And there's not a thing wrong with it

when intimacy and physical are in union.

In other words, Love, the sex is that shit...

but...

yes, there's a but...

That's not what I crave.

It ain't sex that makes me sleepless

for days and days,

causes me to be distracted,

althought I am attracted

to your package

and your performance don't ever make me mad...

What really makes me hold on

steal one last embrace before you go on

your way, and about your day,

is the before and after time.

It's in the way you look at me with knowing,

and your intentions show in

your eyes.

The touches as we pass in the kitchen,

and in "Baby can you scratch my back?"

When "we" is more than you and I.

And it resides in the warmth of the bed when,

bodies touching and spent,

you stroke my face and arms,

shoulders and back and thighs,

hands visiting the soft places

in the small of my back

and the nape of my neck.

Quiet voices, bedroom voices in flickering light.

Small talk, and "I love you"

and the tv reflecting in your eyes...

and your eyes on me.

"What?"

"Can't I just look at you, baby?"

And you do.

Until sleep takes us both into the night.

It's this,

the before and after time.

No, don't get me wrong, man.

Your sex... is more than just alright.

But the lovemaking!

That happens in the before and after time.

But maybe I over think things....

Sometimes

I have to roll things around in my mind...

Like a snowball in reverse

melting away the extraneous

the extra layers on the outside

to get to what's on the inside,

at the center of things.

Sometimes

I have to peel back the layers of wrapping

pull off the ribbons and

discard the packaging

get to the plain truth

of what's inside the box

at the heart of things.

Sometimes

I find it takes some time

to discover what I really feel

to find the core

the central truth

the source.

Sometimes

I don't always know what I think

caught in torrents of feeling and impulse

and I don't want to proceed

until I'm sure of my course.

Sometimes

my mind is a busy place to be

with all the analytical activites

but always,

it's good to get to the root cause.

puzzling

Where do we go from today?

How do we fit together now?

Puzzle pieces falling into place,

Start with the edges and work our way in.

Start with the frame and watch the picture take shape,

because we don't have the box top to show us

what the final result will look like.

Frustrating to put it together

without a guide.

Holding a piece that seems like it doesn't fit anywhere.

Obsessed with that piece, unable to move on

until we know

where it goes

Because it must fit somewhere.

The pieces are all here.

But what does the final picture look like?

some questions...

Where does it come from?

This I'll show you attitude,

this cuttin' off my nose to spite my face...

Where does it get me?

Doing silly things at you,

that only hurt me in the end...

Where do I come by this urge?

Being outrageous and whatnot,

all out of character to prove...

What?

Thoughts that make me profoundly

uncomfortable in my own skin...

Behavior that makes me want to hide my face...

Words that spew like bile

out of anger...

That don't form themselves well in my mouth

or my mind....

And lastly...

how do I make it go away?

The Priority List

You love me, do ya?

I don't doubt that you do.

but these nights and days alone waiting on you

get older and colder with each one that passes

You need me, do ya?

I believe that you do.

but how much? and why? when I spend

all this time at home on my own, lonely

You got me on lock, do ya?

well..... only because I choose.

but you're not the only one who can see

there's something here to be valued

So a suggestion, while you're on the road,

rollin the wheels to go spin those wheels,

maybe I deserve a bump up.

Maybe you better check how you're handlin' business

at home

maybe it's time to take the road that leads to the door

that opens on me.

And maybe you need to rearrange those priorities a little.

I know what you're working for, and I share the dream.

but when you achieve it, it could be without me.

Coz I ain't even on the list.

The bouncer won't even let me in...

metaphorically...

And see....

I'm not even asking to be number one.

I just wanna make the list.

Just want you to show that love,

Just let me know you want me there,

waiting to open the door that opens on me.

Keeping the porch light on.

Is that club gonna hold you when you're lonely?

Is that turntable gonna listen when you got something to say?

Is that promoter gonna give a damn when the world is weighing heavy?

Coz I am.

If you let me.

Just put me on the list.

Make the door that opens on me

the next stop on your itinerary.

I've put in my time waiting, wishing, wondering, wanting.

I've paid the dues in minutes, hours and days.

I've put patience past its limit,

I've given you all the support and love and trust I can extend.

You've exceeded your credit,

time to make a deposit.

Just put me on the list.

No poetry.... just some stuff I thunked....

The sweetest sound in the world... "Mama, I love you." Said for no good reason.

The ugliest sound in the world... the sound of suctioning respiratory secretions (there's a reason I'm a nurse and not a respiratory therapist!).

The easiest thing in the world for me to do.... fall asleep in church!

The hardest thing in the world for me to do.... make my brain shut up so I can fall asleep at night.

The thing I wish I did better.... parent.

The thing I think I do pretty well.... parent.

The reason for this post... coz I can't make my brain shut up so I can fall asleep!

Legs Like Lead

They started at 4 am and carried me down the stairs.

At 6 am they carried me out the door.

At 20 til 7 they carried me in another door.

Then they moved me about my day.

To one place where I gave nourishment,

and another where I gave hope,

and another where I gave healing,

and another where I shared grief,

and another where I gathered information,

and another where I helped,

and countless others where I did countless things,

and they did not stop,

because there was no time to stop.

And then it was 20 til 7 again--

how did that happen?

And they carried me to a chair.

And I told someone else about my day,

the things given, and done, and shared, and learned,

so they could take the next leg of the race...

and they carried me out the door,

and in another door,

and now my leaden legs are carrying me up the stairs,

to slumber,

so they can race again tomorrow.

*crafted after a long, busy day.... any one relate?*

a little too much

did i give myself a little too soon

and of myself a little too much?

if i did, it's too late now.

no do overs, no givesies-takesies, no reneging now.

it's a done deal.

you inhabit my heart and live in my mind,

like a parasite or a symbiant

and the more i love, the more you thrive

and the more i die a little inside

when the return on investment is overbalanced to your benefit

when the give is one sided and the take is all you

it's what it is, and what i am

and who you are, and what we've become

This is really raw....mostly just emotional vomit...sorry folks for the poor composure. I'm just tired, stressed and in a strange relationship space. Thoughts?

peace n blessings,

amy

Anger

Because I couldn't be there

Because no one else was

Because it happened

There is anger

Because he didn't say it

Because my rock dissolved

Because he failed me

I feel anger

Because it doesn't solve it

Because it's no one's fault

Because it just exhausts me

I leave anger

Our Colors

our colors

sometimes i wonder about you
and me
and us

sometimes it feels like i never had another home
and sometimes if feels like i don't know what home is
or where

sometimes is most times, really
when i wonder about colors
and cultures
and families
and friends
and trends
and what if

and i make myself crazy
until my heart can hear yours
and i don't care who thinks what
or says what
or how they look at us
or if they turn away from us
or if they speak
or if they don't
or any of that

i just know that i feel what i feel
know what i know
believe what i believe
accept what i accept
understand what i understand
and love whom i love

ac apr 3, 01

The Birth of a Blog

Ok, so here's the thing, because of Miss Alise over at Black Woman Lost & Found I have rediscovered my love for writing poetry. Now, I don't claim to be a great poet. But dammit, I try. So the format of this blog will probably evolve over time. But for now, I'm just gonna post something I wrote years ago, and I would love for anyone who reads to respond with poetry of their own, comments, critiques, stories or just random impressions.... I love random!

inevitable intangible


trying to believe in what i can't see
hard for me

trying to have faith in what i feel
you feel

you feelin' me?

can you climb to my vista?
see what i see?

how hard it is for me?
to forget what i can't see
trust what i feel
accept what you tell me?

how do you prove it's there
when it's intangible?
demonstrate its existence
when it's invisible?

how do you know what it is
when you can't
measure, examine, define?

especially when
(like me)
you've been so wrong before?

yet, i'm sure.
yes, i'm sure.

and you?
i know what i have,
do you?
can you name it?
lay claim to it?
call it by name?

is it in your nature
to nurture such a thing?
to watch it grow
and change?

possibly have your
world rearranged?

are you sure?

ac apr 17. 01