Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Depression is like menstrual cramps. You are happy and feel good the day after the last day because you are not bleeding and hurting but you know in the back of your being that free aint free. That the cramps will come again. The clouds will form. You just have to feel good while you feel good. And love that. Like really love that. You just have to know that the love you give yourself while you feel good will do you some good when you have no energy to love yourself like you should during the storm.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Venela Flagg and I went to see Wyatt Underwood today. He's in a nursing facility which means that he's too well to be in a hospital but not well enough to go home. It was good to see him. Send him your love and prayers and let him know how much we miss him and Linda. Also, he said to let everyone know that he's doing "better than awful." Actually he looks good. Smiling that smile and laughing. Send him some love.

Monday, May 8, 2017

Today I am not depressed. Not lost under a mound of covers and life too demanding wondering if I will have will enough to survive. Not longing for death or poison or pills or gun. God please bless my soul.
Today I am at the beach. Walking on this overcast day. I sipped the sun through a straw. The sadness may return but today I am here. I am enough. A freckled freak show. A beautiful. Today I am a palm tree. A flower. A flame.
Today I am thankful for those who held my head ...when I couldn't lift it to sky. For those who prayed for me when I could not breathe for myself. For the calls the words the love. Today I am a butterfly. A glass of Merlot. Today I am rent paid. A Christmas tree. A new red journal. A pen. I am car washed and floor cleaned. I am dishes put away. Don't come for me. You are not ready. I am a poet.
Today I am Tupac and Mahalia Jackson. I am the blues. Bless this bipolar heart. Bless this lithium this lorazapam this prozac.
Today I am a wish. A ready. A still. A story. A flicker. Pray saints. Hold your hands my way. That should the clouds form again I will live to see another day.
Today I am a whisper. A kiss. A tongue. Today I am a breast being sucked. A haircut. A pedicure. Today I am a green light. A hoodrat a queen. Today I am black thongs and matching shoes. Today I am in these streets trying to function. Today you can't tell me nothin'. Wipe your shoes before you come past my door.
There are days I doubt I will see the next but today I am a forever. A tattoo. I am a knowing. A rock. A river.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

It's 9:27pm and I am at home. The past few weeks have been hard for me. Hard for me to...deal...with almost anything. Hard to get in the shower, hard to get out of the car when I get home, hard to get out of bed, hard to care about a lot of things. I have been managing work and doing a pretty good job of that, though I don't know how and it does take a lot out of me. Working with my client and teaching my weekly class and everything I do in between. It got so bad for me last week I went to Exodus to check myself into the hospital. I just got to see a psychiatrist on duty and she just doubled my Latuda meds. I didn't even get the Rx filled. I'll wait to see my doctor on the fifth and see what she says. I do think I need to be in the hospital for a while. I just don't really have the time. That and psych wards are scary.  That's my story. That was my experience the last time I was there. It did help me though. I'm leaving for Colorado this weekend so I won't make any decisions about going into the hospital until I return anyway.

But I'm managing. I give myself that. I give myself brownie points for doing the smallest things. Points for taking a shower. Points for getting out of the car when I park at home in under an hour. Sometimes I don't make it. But then sometimes I do.

I'm looking forward to going to WomanPreach this weekend because I always feel empowered when I'm there. Praying for a good time and that God uses me to speak the words God would have me speak. Here am I, Lord, use me.

This depression hit me pretty hard this time. I'm hoping for and easy lift. That the clouds separate and I see lovely blue skies again. I am believing this will happen soon.  At least I am believing it will happen.

Gonna get some notes together for the show this weekend. Wish me love.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

When a woman whispers a prayer for you
When she folds the thought of you
Into her clasped knuckles
When a woman closes her eyes
And sets your face next to her list
Of loves and blessings and questions
Know that this is the best pome she will create

When a woman offers her breath as tithe
She is giving the story of her life
May she ever be protected in your hands
Hold her humble like the sky holds the clouds
This is your blessing

When a woman knows her scripture is sacrosanct on your tongue
You have earned a friend bigger than the moon
Stronger than a lion
This is your portion
This love
This kind of ease

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

I'm so easily irritated and overwhelmed today.

A poem a week for 2017 - for week 8 - Black trans sisters

I will say your name
Your whisper of a name
Leaves me breathless
I will call you a girl
A woman
A prayer a poet a breath
I will see you

You did not deserve this death
This dragon life
Killed for the audacity to be yourself

We owe you a life
We owe you a flood
Your life mattered
The way you left this world mattered
And says something about the horror
Of who we are

I will say your name
Ciara McElveen
Chyna Gibson
Keke Collier
Mesha Caldwell
Jamie Lee Wounded Arrow
Jojo Striker
There were others before you
May your ghosts be at rest
May we be strong enough to kill only
The weakness of hate in ourselves
I will pronounce all the syllables of your name
Know you like my blood
Like you
Are me

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

A poem a week for 2017 - for week 7 - For the love

just loving myself / just being so good to me / cause I deserve some good just like you do too / over here breathing / just in and out letting go what don't do me no more good / sitting here singing songs to myself and writing some too / my hand on my belly / going up and down like a rollercoaster / loving myself / all by myself so I can love you too / so I can give all this so good good lovin to somebody else if they want it / if not I'll just go on my way / my love is good enough for me

just watching the clouds / one look like my face / look like / look like a family reunion / way they come together to make a storm / ain't life grand / ain't it so good / don't bad things happen right on time then go away when they should

releasing / just letting it go / watching these tears fall to my feet / my ugly toes so pretty to me now / all of me so good to me now / take off my shoes run olive oil between my toes / don't it feel good / don't I deserve it / don't you too
It's 5:05 pm and I am at home. I am taking some self care actions by just being quiet and alone and in touch with my feelings. I'm much better today. Yesterday I was filled with anxiety. Had a headache and crazy panic attacks. I read something on Facebook the other day that described my anxiety so well. It said something like "Anxiety is feeling like you have to solve all your problems right now." That's how I felt. Thankfully with the sun came the ability to separate everything I was worrying about and break the mountain down into ant hills. Some things I even realized weren't even worth my time and worry. I'm glad because I need the space in my head for other things. Like art and mothering and life and work and love.

Right now I am getting ready to go to Chicago. I leave in the morning and will be there for the weekend. I'm going to another Womanpreach event. I am so honored to be the artist in residence for that organization. That's another post though. What's on my mind right now is a poem I am trying to write about all of the transgender women being killed across the country. I've read about I think seven so far. One is too many. They are women of color and killed by our brothers. It makes me sick. How can you call yourself "conscious" and "woke" and still be a homophobe? You can't that's how. The poem hasn't formed yet but I'm working on it. I want to read it Friday at the show in Chicago. Right now it's called Chyna Doll Dupree Gibson is the fifth transgender woman killed in 2017 - Say her name. I know it's a long title but that's what it is right now. Gonna get back to work.

Love yourselves.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Writers read.
I took my mom to the hospital the other day because she fell and hurt her back. Falling is no joke. She fell out of bed. I had to call the ambulance and they helped me get her in the car. They didn't take her because they wouldn't take her to the hospital she wanted to go to. We were at the hospital for a couple of hours then my sister joined us. She was at Deja's game earlier but of course kept up with us by phone. When she arrived I sat for a moment and gave thanks that the three of us were able to be together. That Roshann and I still have our mother with us. No one knows the day nor the hour. So many folks are dying that we know and we are together. It's not lost on me.
It's 11:56pm and I am at home. I had a beautiful day today. I love Mondays. Mondays I have my class at CLI at USC. We had a good class tonight. I don't have anything new and terrific for this post tonight. I'm behind like two weeks on my poem a week for 2017 project. I'll make it up before I leave for Chicago next later this week. I had a dream last night that I recited this bad ass poem. I loved it. It was fire. So much so that in the dream I said to myself to post it in my blog. In my dream I did. I reached down and turned on my computer and typed the whole thing. The dream was so real I actually thought I typed it in here, but no, it was just a dream. All of it. Oh well.