Dear Jaha

Seriously, don't post anything else on this blog tonight. Really, edit the photos you need to edit and go to sleep.

Love (usually)
me

My perfect place

When I am stressed, which lately has been more often then I'm comfortable with, I go to a place in my head that calms me down. I have many places. My favorite place, my perfect place, I call it, is my son and I going for a long drive. Sometimes I am driving and he is on a computer in the passengers seat and sometimes he is driving. Though he cannot drive yet. But it's my perfect place where whatever I want is possible. Whatever I want.

We are in a Ford Expedition. Blue. I don't have a Ford Expedition but that's where we always are. There is always music. Daylight. Clear sky. Light traffic. He doesn't want to listen to music anymore but the comedy station instead. He finds the station. We laugh all the way down the road. He turns the radio down and says, "Mom, guess what..."

Daddy

when the phone rang early like that
i already knew
it was mama and she was cryin
then i knew for sure

"hes...hes..."
he dead huh
cause why put her through
sayin all the words

"you ok?"

yeah im ok

but my daddy was dead
and ask me
i wasnt finished needin a daddy yet
grown as i am and all, but still...
wasnt finished needin some man to say
he was always gon love me and
mean it for real

i called him to tell him
my daddy was dead
and first thing he ax was
did i want him to come over
course i want him to come over
and i said so too
but the quiet lasted too long
so i said no

no you stay there
im ok by myself

i hoped he would know i was lyin
since i had known so many of his

but knowin a lie only matter
if you feel like doin somethin about it

i flew back home
and went straight to his room
called tascha fore i even got on the plane

dont let nobody take his gun
i want that gun
thats my gun

i went straight to the room headin for the closet
but stopped at the bed

next to the bed was a picture of me
taped to the wall
wasnt till right then i knew
it would never be the same again
all grown up or not

i walked to the store and stood in line
and why was the store open anyway
didnt they know my daddy was dead
why the world was planes in the air
and kids at the park
wasnt nothin on the news
about him bein dead

wasnt nobody gon never have my picture
taped next to they side of the bed
my only sister got a husband
so how would she know what that feel like
aquiah got a daddy
so how do she know
she dont
they dont

maybe it aint just me
but right now it is
and thats what matter

tammy say dont be feelin so sorry
for myself
i tell her
this is my space to find
love and peace and the freedom i need to be
and anybody dont
give me room to feel how i wanna feel
in my own space should just go

they should just go
and take they jackets with em

Release

there are easier friends to have than i
i suppose
more comfortable women to be around
i guess
there is always a younger booty
flatter stomach
more money
better job out there
i reckon

but hearts like mine come few
i know

i will not take on your load of fear and blame
i will find the freedom i need to make peace
with whats so right now

there is too much talk about
what i dont have
cant do
the ecomony and who will be president next

scarcity is a big lie you know
and so i will let you and the others in your ear
live it by yourselves

i was tired anyway
of juggling ponies
and swallowing fireswords
only to your side eyeing
and teetering of your hand
to suggest my missing the mark again

it would be too uncomplicated
for me to play your victim now
i am older than that
i am bigger than you

i was broken when we met
running from some yesterday
and needed a soft place to land
for a time i thought you were that place

and you pretended to be

but the wind from all that running
left me deaf
to red flags waving
and sirens shreeking

i told Spirit i was grown
and i saw what i wanted to see

and She let me

and you did too

so here i am
declaring myself
the source of my own problem
not just you
the yesterdays i ran from
before

i am every liar, cheater, abuser, thief
who has ever sat at my table
drank water from my cup
kissed me between my thighs

and i delete myself
from my molecular structure
and when i forget
the delete button
will be there
again

Dear Uraeus

Write it out. Write it all out. Everything that makes you laugh, hurt, cry, happy, write it out. Write it all out.

Mom

Dear Uraeus

Only call people friends who love, respect, honor, celebrate, cherish you. ALL OTHERS are just people you know.

Mom

RED STORIES

Thank you all for coming out to my one woman show, RED STORIES last night. I had a wonderful time sharing with all of you. Thank you Lucy Florence for letting us be in the space. I'm looking forward to coming back next month. I'll keep you all posted on the dates. Also, please check out my website at www.jahazainabu.com. You can check out the events page to view upcoming shows. See you all soon!

Me with me part 4

* Morning again.

J* Yeah, early morning.

* What are you doing?

J* I put a dvd in my computer and I'm working on my show for Saturday.

* No you're not you're typing this blog.

(We laugh.)

J* True. But before that I was working on the show.

* What's there to add?

J* Not really add, just kinda put together. The show is still a puzzle and each piece works but I keep changing where I want what where. A part of me feels like this will go on until I'm actually on stage.

* Do you usually go through all this before a show?

J* Umm, I have my process but no, it doesn't look like this always.

* So why the change for this show?

J* I think because it's going to be a more personal show. A lot of me. Me. I tell a lot of stories about other folks and...

* Really, other folks?

J* Well, ok, sometimes I just say they are about other folks but really they are me. But this time there is a lot of me. Admittedly me.

* That's not that new though. You've done that before.

J* Yeah.

* So what else is new?

J* There will be a lot of people who have never seen me perform before. Either have never seen me or haven't seen me in a long time. I'm a little nervous about that. I don't know why. But I am a bit.

* You know how I feel about the phrase I don't know.

J* I do hide behind "I don't know" a lot. You're right. It's my way of being lazy. "I don't know" is a good way for me to not do the work in my head and work through whatever I'm saying I don't know about.

* So do the work.

J* I'm nervous because the show comes at a time when I'm doing a lot of work on myself. No matter how much I try to hide behind a character, the really sore spots of me will show through.

* They always do.

J* Yeah, but this time on purpose. Artists are weird.

* I was going to say that.

J* We put ourselves in positions to show our weaknesses.

* Why?

J* To get stronger. To help other people get stronger. One time I asked V. Kali why artists go through so much...stuff. She said to me "because you'll tell it."

* You tell that story a lot.

J* When I need to hear it.

(Pause.)

* You there.

J* I'm here.

* What are you doin' now?

J* I think I'm gonna check my facebook again and go to sleep.

* Already?

J* Yeah, I'm getting a headache and I have to get up early.

* Why?

J* The headache or get up early?

* Both.

J* The headache probably because I had such a cold the last couple of days and I drank some whisky to dry out the mucus. It worked and I had a good nap but...

And I'm getting up early because I need to catch the train to Long Beach to meet my mother in the morning and then I have a lot to do at the theatre.

* Get some rest. Love you.

J* Love you too.

New rules

I'm only dealing with people who love, celebrate and hold me dear. Jokes are real. Jokes are not funny when they hurt, make me uncomfortable, put me down. Thanks Venus.

J

Dear Uraeus #24

I love you. I thank God for you. I am always next to you. God is always next to you.

Mom

Getting ready for tonight

It's been a long day. 6:47 and I need to be leaving for the show tonight. While I would love a long nap, more prep time, a hot hot did I say hot bath, a glass of red wine and a chicken salad before the show most of those things aren't going to happen. The shower will happen. The nap will not.

Dear God, please bless this show tonight. I don't know who will be there but You do. Use me, Father to say what You would have me to say. Bless me, Mother with wisdom and grace. Thank You Awesome God for being everything I need.

Dear Mom

There are no words for the blessing you are to me. The blessing you are to the world. Thank you for sharing you so generously. For your wisdom, for your love. For everything.

Robin

Thank You God

for life
my son
my family
this moment
my friends
music
poetry
bills
my home
lessons
blessings
books
food
wine
laughter
fun
tears
all of my senses
my mother
justin beiber (because my niece loves him so much and I'm just glad to see her happy)
beauty
health
happiness
freedom
You

Performance tonight

I'm the featured poet tonight at the 27th St. Bakery at 4308 Crenshaw Blvd. at 7p. Come out! And while you're there get your ticket from me for my show on Saturday night RED STORIES. The event tonight is FREE.

Knowing

God is always in control.

Dear Uraeus #23

A friend of mine told me last night not to be around people that didn't celebrate me. By celebrate, meaning honor, respect, value. This life can throw enough punches that we begin to believe that the blows are normal. We almost get used to it. They are not normal.

You are a growing young man and are beginning to see your own path. On your journey remember, be honored, be respected, be valued, or be out.

Mom

Because

You assume that I am weak because I have been more than kind to you. More than generous. You assumed wrong.

You are afraid. Very afraid. You are envious and jealous. I am sad for you. But this is not about you. You won't use your voice because you lost it somewhere. Somewhere way back there. So far back I don't even remember it. Do you? The universe knows everything.

Dear Uraeus #22

There is a time to be quiet and a time to speak out. Wisdom is knowing the difference. When it is time to be quiet it takes strength to keep your mouth closed. When it is time to speak out it takes courage. You have them all.

Mom

Dear God

You shol know how to work it out!

Thank You God

for the answers that come in the quiet.
for friends and family to laugh and share with.
for blessing me with love all around.
for protecting me from every weapon meant to harm me.
for revealing Yourself all around and through me.
for being everywhere I am.
for living within me.
for Your hand of love, guidance and protection on my son.
for love.

RED STORIES

RED STORIES is my new one woman show and it starts Saturday, October 30 at Lucy Florence Coffee House in Leimert Park. There is a photography slide show at 6 and the show begins at 7. The tickets are $20 and that includes a copy of my book THE CORNERS OF MY SHAPING.

Now, what is RED STORIES? This show features me performing poetry, comedy, drama and sharing thoughts focused on healing and finding ways to let go of old stories that keep us bound. RED STORIES focuses on going through the process of it. It? Yeah, the its that land in our laps. The its we think are too big for us to hold. Often it seems we either get swallowed in drama of it or we skip straight to "It's all good" and sweep the stress we don't know how to deal with right back into the deep parts of ourselves. RED STORIES focuses on us using our voices. Calling the foul. Giving praise. Loving ourselves.

How can you get tickets? Well, you can paypal me at jahazainabuphotography@yahoo.com, go to Lucy Florence in Leimert Park and pick them up, or you can get tickets the evening of the show. Let me tell you though, the theatre only seats 52 and some tickets have already been sold.

I do hope I see you next Saturday. Until then, love you.

Recap:

Who: JAHA ZAINABU

What: RED STORIES a one woman show

When: Saturday, October 30, 2010

What time: photography slide show at 6, show at 7

How much: $20 includes copy of THE CORNERS OF MY SHAPING

Where: LUCY FLORENCE COFFEE HOUSE 3351 W. 43rd St., Los Angeles, CA 90008

Why: Because isn't it time?

Dear God

You got this, right?

Thank you

because I am laughing again
drinking wine again
for the fun again

because woman talk is easy with you
remembering is easy with you

thank you for stories and cheese
and olives and yesterday slide shows
made clearer
set free

thank you for
conversations created over
braids being set free
let loose
let go

for connections and
the truth
finally
the truth

Dear Whoever you are

You are respectfully named Whoever you are because I don't remember your name. Your name doesn't even matter to me. You don't know me. That sentences is key. I am an artist. I am a storyteller. One of the tools I use to tell stories with is my camera.

Yesterday I posted some pictures on facebook. The pictures are a story of my short time in Memphis where I worked, praised, talked, shared, cried with a group of women ministers. I posted what I think are beautiful pictures. And what I think matters because it is afterall, my facebook page, my story, not yours. There were two pictures in particular that I especially liked. One was of a woman who is very dear to me, Valerie Bridgeman, in the pulpit at a church in Mississippi. My focus was not on her though, it was on the father and son in the pew in front of me. Rev. Bridgeman is fuzzy in the photo but the backs of the father and son are clear. How they were listening to her. How that young man was in church on a Saturday night with his father, listening. I loved that moment. I love the story I made up about that moment. I don't honestly know if they are father and son. Perhaps uncle and nephew, neighbor and friend, cousins, could even have been brothers. I don't know. But they were there and I caught that moment.

Another photo, of the 89 I posted is of a woman, Abigail, who was dancing during one of the services in Memphis. She was so graceful. Clad in her dancing gear, long flowing skirt and the rest. Beautiful. I took many pictures of her, as you saw. One of the ones that I loved is the picture I caught of her as she wizzed by me. In the photo she looked as if she is wizzing. Blurry but you can still make out who she is and what she is doing.

Why this post? Why this letter to you? Why are you Whoever you are? Well, because you chose to send me a message telling me not to post blurry pictures because potential clients want to see my best work. Are you one of my potential clients? Have you ever purchased a photo from me? Have you ever booked a photo session from me? Have you ever bought one of my books, been to any of my shows? Better, have you ever said "nice job" to me on a photo? I don't think so.

Let me express my art and tell my story how I want to. I am pretty sure that I am not the only woman whose art you try to direct and maybe they don't want to tell you, but I will. Back off. I don't know you. Tell your own story. Post your own clear pictures.

I guess you are saying, "wow, all of this from one simple message?" Well, yeah. Yes and no because I am not just responding to you. I am responding to ex friends, ex lovers, ex passserbyers who found it necessary to put their two cents in where it wasn't asked for or welcomed. So, for all of the times I didn't use my voice before, I say again... POST YOUR OWN CLEAR PICTURES.

Dear Uraeus #21

Use your voice. I don't care if you are right or wrong. I don't really know what that is anyway. I care that you have an opinion that is yours and that you will say it. Words matter. Use your powers for good.

Mom

Dear Rev. Dr. Renita Weems

I will begin this letter to you first by mentioning how I first came to experience you. It was at the WomanPreach Academy this month in Memphis. You were on skype and a group of women sat and listened to and asked questions of you. Even when the technology failed us, we gathererd ourselves and sat around the telephone and continued the conversation on speaker phone. You touched my life. I am posting this letter to you on my blog and will not recapture the conversation or give your bio to those reading this who may not know you. I will say here though, that reading your blog at somethingwithin.com is a good way to get to know what you are about.

Now, thank you for being a woman who speaks up and encourages women to use our voices. Thank you for using yours so powerfully. And by powerfully, and this is to the readers of my blog, I don't mean that you need to shout. I thank you for speaking clearly about where you stand. Often I find women afraid to make statements that may not be popular in our society. Our society of women, of church, of black folk.

Before I heard you in Memphis I heard of you from Rev. Dr. Valerie Bridgeman who does not often should me or others on anything but when she said you SHOULD hear her and know who she is, well, let's just say I'm no fool. Valerie Bridgeman (again for the readers) is also a very powerful woman. A woman who uses her voice and does not shake when she does. A woman who stands for justice and the empowerment of women. As you do Mrs. Weems.

The intent of this... letter is to express how great an impact you had on me in the hour or so we spent on the phone. Yes, I said we, because that's what it was for me. Though you didn't hear my voice or even know me, I was there with you. Also the intent of this is to introduce to some who may frequent my blog and may not know of you (and Valerie Bridgeman).

Thank you again and I am enjoying your blog. I read it almost every night. Please keep posting, writing, sharing yourself with the world.

Jaha Zainabu

Happy Friday

Good morning beautiful people. I am up early as usual enjoying the quiet of the day, the quiet of my mind, the peace of this moment. I am thankful to God for love all around me, for friends, family, art. I am preparing myself to unfold into this day, to walk, to paint, to take pictures and then to work. Be love today. Love who you are, appreciate the moment, cherish the love around you. Be thankful for the sky above you and for each breath. Enjoy you.

Dear Uraeus #20

Be still and know.
Breathe.
Be.

Mom

She

She is walking around with more anger than she knows how to carry. She is too used to this weight. She smiles and she dances and she sings. Because that's what good girls do.

psy chic 101

i was on the bus stop on
crenshaw and wilshire
when a young woman pulled
in front of me and stopped
at the red light

she told me that she would
give me a free reading because
i had some strong energy

i told her
baby you dont even
have enough time

Before session one

parked across the street
in the mall parking on
a rainy day in front of
sephora

because i am two hours
early for session one
and am tempted to spend
this money on make up

and sephora is always
having some kind of sale
and it is a problem that
i am weighing my health
against a tube of
lipstick and face powder

and isnt it ironic that i
am tempted with make up

as if i need another covering
to pretend that all of this
is ok

Dear rain

Take off your shoes and spend some time.

Uraeus

your deep voice
your beautiful dark skin
wonderful you
proud of you
good grades
tall and strong
kind and loving
so intelligent
so giving
respectful
creative
deep thinker
free spirit
gifted
poetic
artistic
talented
young
growing
black
man

100 of what / who brings me peace

001. a clean home
002. rain
003. a good book
004. prayer
005. my son
006. hugging my son
007. going to see good comedy
008. spending time with my family
009. watching a movie with my mother
010. spending time with my friends
011. long drives
012. going to the movies
013. painting
014. writing
015. blogging
016. watching law and order late nights
017. sushi
018. dancing
019. herbal tea
020. nick @ nite
021. good conversations
022. performing poetry
023. reading my stories
024. reading j. california coopers work
025. reading toni morrisons work
026. laughing with charisse tucker
027. watching criminal minds on lauras couch
028. merlot
029. art shows
030. going to plays
031. getting dressed up
032. putting on makeup
033. playing with zolah
034. holding za'yn
035. organizing my home
036. making lists
037. paying my bills
038. skating
039. watching in the heat of the night
040. going for long walks
041. listening to thunder
042. taking pictures
043. long bus rides
044. spending time in oakland
045. sight seeing
046. spending time with deja
047. spending time with reuben
048. sex
049. writing in my journal
050. a good massage
051. swimming
052. listening to a good sermon
053. going to st. pauls in philadelphia
054. going to the beach
055. cheese
056. eggs
057. bread
058. the color red
059. talking to valerie bridgeman
060. listening to good music
061. seeing my friends succeed
062. watching my friends perform
063. listening to nailahs beautiful anyway
064. going to festivals in leimert park
065. depositing money in my account
066. going to home depot
067. buying plants
068. buying flowers
069. buying paint
070. painting murals
071. going to thrift stores
072. going to book stores
073. going to libraries
074. seeing rainbows
075. love
075. traveling
076. sunny days
077. listening to good poetry
078. organizing photos
079. watching children play
080. hearing old people laugh
081. looking at photos by gordon parks
082. looking at photos by annie leibvoitz
083. looking at the photos on venus bernardos website
084. hot baths with bath salts
085. styling my hair
086. getting pedicures
087. laughing
088. walking around the mall
089. sitting quietly
090. reading Bible stories
091. going to concerts
092. listening to india arie
093. wearing platform shoes
094. watching court / law / police dramas
095. being happy
096. working on my website
097. talking to alisha
098. chillin with aquiah
099. being still
100. learning more about photography

questions

what will it matter
a hundred years from now
if women poets, writers, preachers
are not talking about
what matters to women
what matters to the world

what will be the difference
in the way the world relates to women
the difference in what we feel
our bodies, our spirit
in how we treat our children
our teachers, our political and spiritual leaders

will our voices have made a difference

will our kindness have mattered
will our silence have proven to be best choice
will what we didn't say be the death of us

what will our great strengths have been
what are we saying with our words, our actions
what are we saying and agreeing to
about ourselves

what are our boundaries
who are we allowing to cross them
and why
how are we spending our
time, money, energy

what will our last words be
and to whom

what kinds of lives are we living
what questions are we asking
and to whom

what are our hobbies, our outlets
what does the body of our work say
about us

Dear Uraeus #19

All ways loving you.

Mom

freestyle poem on creating spaces for today

finding balance between
words for my journal and words for the world
why the balance
why not all words for the world
protecting myself
from myself
from my anger
from rage

against you
not all of you
but you
you know who you are
the psychopath reading this right now
living more lives / lies than you can keep up

you

finding space today for loving myself
finding space for art
thank You Mother/Father God that there is always space for art
thank You that there is always space for Spirit
thank You for mornings like this
waking up to Your whisper in my ear
its all going to be fine
everythings all right
feel all of it
write about it all

I hear you Mother

the dance of quiet space

there are women in my head
bold church hat wearing soldiers
connected to Source
and all Her creations
connected by promise

women who are clear
that beauty is more than looking good
deeper than smelling like roses and jasmine
more tedious than press n curls and pedicures

these women
these earth warriors
make life look easy
these seeing women
with word from the Lord
these big boned women
bumped from the pulpit
excused from his counsels
made small in the gospel

these big footed women
more dangerous than their fears
using their voices
as weapon as sheild as balm

these straight talkin' women
chocolate of every hue
change the tapes in my head
when i replay the sore spots of my past
longer than the lesson

they lead me, these humming women
to new language
new perspective
other stories

they dress me in their reds, their blues
sing me in their arethas
their big mama thortons
their Jesus keep me near Thy cross
scarves from their grandmothers
prayers from their closets

i am ready

i hear these women of God
whispering in my blood flow
see them translucent on the streets
behind the babies
comforting the homeless
between their breasts

i dance with them
when i am weak
they stand my legs
stregthen my tongue
still my spirit
quicken my gait
steady my breath
remind me
to listen

Quotes from Rev. Dr. Renita Weems

1. I never wanted to be a small living, small loving, small thinking woman.
2. Religion has a way of making you small.
3. Religion becomes our way to escape the world, not engage the world.
4. I chose the route to be unconventional and ask unconventional questions.
5. Your preaching will only be as strong as your life.

The please God bargain (short story by Jaha Zainabu)

The trip to Ocho Rios was business and had been planned for three months. I didn't say anything to Gina until a month ago because she always gets so nervous when I leave her for more than a day. Gina is my older sister by two years and even when we were little girls I always had to take care of her in some way or another.

Daddy died and we didn't have much family so we stayed with Uncle Bennie until I went away to college. What I do that for? She told me that if I left and went all the way to Louisiana it would kill her. I left and stayed gone for a year and it didn't kill her, but it got bad. Nobody could control Gina. The sex, drugs, drinking. But mostly it was the drugs. I went to meetings with her, saved up and put her in rehab and did everything I could to support her. Secretly though, I was angry that her problems have always controlled my life. Angry at God, my dad for dying, Uncle Bennie, myself. Angry at everyone. For the last five years though, it's been ok. Well, predictable. She's even been attending meetings by herself. But when I leave for more than a day, we all get nervous.

We talked about it last week and she said she would be ok. Four nights ago though, the night before I left, she called me at work and asked me to go to a meeting with her. I had to work and couldn't go. She didn't come home till eleven and I could tell she had been crying, but she wasn't high.

The next morning she was standing above my bed, then started jumping and screaming and telling me that if I really loved her I would stay.

I snapped! I got up in her face and screamed on her like I aint never before. Then left. What I do that for?

God, let her be ok. Please let her be ok. I promise I'll go to meetings with her every day. I haven't heard from her since I left. I keep calling, but nothing. Uncle Bennie hasn't seen her, nobody we know has. Whatever You need me to do, God, I'll do. Just let her be ok. I'm on my way back home now and sitting in this airport is driving me crazy. God, please.

Take us back

it was the moaning mostly
the whispered gutteral base
escaped pursed lips and sunday pink lipstick
that groan from underneath belly
granted go ahead to
say it sistah!
preach pastah!

hallelujah shouts from peppermint breath
knocked cracked leather black pumps
holding swollen ankles on wooden floors
with tight fist grabbing air
closed eyes and tears falling slow

bread of heaven, bread of heaven
feed me till i want no more

i remember you, grandmama
we honor you, auntie

negro women not hooked on simple words
like fair, justice, right
negro women who could out walk a lie on broken toes
courageous women who got a prayer through breathing a breath
deeper than the last

we came from these women
spread noses, wide feet
carry the world shoulders like theirs
lest we forget and think we carried ourselves

those are our mothers
with backwoods grammar and perfect memory
we have come into new names
they called themselves negro

we need you now, grandmama
our fine homes are poison
without your wrinkled fingers
folded over breakfast prayer

there was something about
your Jesus, your John Kennedy, your Martin King
glued to dusty wood mantle
over stale candy and crystal glass bowl

your God who had the whole world in His hands in His hands
was too big to argue love, death, resurrection

big mama, we call on you now
forgive us please our education
our money
our everything we think we know
too good for your pork chop, your hymn book, your hot comb

put your feet in our laps, great warrior
let us massage your boiled blood
and blistered backs
we are listening, queen
all the time we heard your songs
but not really

let witch hazel leak between your fingers
rub our temples
sing your songs again
we are wiser now
those spirituals we ignored
sing them to us again
see mother? see?
our arms are not smooth like before
we have our own battle wounds now
we can hear you now
sing with you now

take us back
take us back
fo we can be baptized
again

You 4

I am tired of protecting men who use the church as their playground. For money, for women, for power, for fame. I am tired. I am angry. And I get to be. I am tired of being nice. Nice is NOT woman's work. I am tired of watching women believe men like you. I am disgusted that I did. Sex addiction is sex addiction. The desire and the unwillingness to control it does not end because you spend time in South Africa. Do you know the AIDS stats?

It bothers me that you stand in the pulpit and tell your jokes and then juggle more women than God only knows. And God does know. But what about us? AAAAAlllll of the women you juggled and lied to. Lied about. Paraded in front of the others as "friends."

I am confused, even about this post. What it will do to you, your reputation, your feelings, me? And why? Why do we do that? Protect the feelings of our abusers. It is abuse by the way. To leave my bed and get into hers, and then hers. It is abuse by the way. To run your business in the name of God. To collect money in His name.

I go back and forth about whether or not this is right. Putting it out this way. You know, "vengeance is mine saith the Lord." But this is not vengeance dear. This is love. Vengeance would have been me slashing your tires (like I wanted to), busting your windows, denting your fancy rims. But I restrained. I am older than that. When I pray for the hungry to be fed and then walk by a hungry person and don't feed him the sandwich in my bag, what was my prayer for? To pass the buck? When I pray for justice and then say nothing about allll of the women you are having sex with and letting them believe that they are the only ones and climbing out of their beds and into another pulpit, then what are my prayers for? I am being kind in this post. You know I am. We were fooled. We ignored the scratch behind our ear that was only Mother Spirit telling us to "let this one pass." We stayed.

Remember when you told me your ex was crazy? Crazy because she sent me a message warning me about you. I didn't listen. I didn't want to. I wanted to believe she was crazy too. So when I called to give your new one a similar message, is that who I was? Your new crazy? My prayers for her. For you too.

There is no way you will be able to keep up this kind of life. No matter how long it has been. This post doesn't even scratch the surface of what I know. And I do. I know.

My prayers for all of the ones who know about you and watched me love you and said nothing. My prayers for all of the women believing you. For all of the congregations spending their money on you. My prayers for you. My prayers for me.

Jaha Zainabu

You 3

"musta thought I was gonna go out like a chump. Like a sucka or somethin'." Pharcyde

You 2 (w.b.)

there are easier friends to have than i
i suppose
more comfortable women to be around
i guess
there is always a younger booty
flatter stomach
more money
better job out there
i reckon

but hearts like mine come few
i know

i will not take on your load
of fear and blame
i will find the freedom i need
to make peace with whats so right now

there is too much talk about
what i dont have
wont do
the economy
who will be president next

scarcity is a big lie you know
and so i will let you
and the others in your ear
live it by yourselves

i was tired anyway
of juggling ponies
and swallowing fireswords
only to your side eyeing and teetering of your hand
to suggest my missing the mark again

it would be too uncomplicated
for me to play your victim now
i am older than that
i am bigger than you

i was broken when we met
running from some yesterday
and needed a soft place to land
for a time i thought you were that place

and you pretended to be

but the wind from all that running
left me deaf
to red flags waving
and sirens shreeking

i told Spirit i was grown
and i saw what i wanted to see
and She let me

and you did too

so here i am
declaring myself
the source of my own problem
not just you
the yesterdays i ran from
before

you see, i am every liar
cheater, abuser, thief
who has ever sat at my table
drank water from my cup
kissed me between my thighs
how else could you enter my space
except some lesson for me to learn
about life
about love
about the possibility of me
and so i delete myself
from my molecular structure
and when i forget
the delete button
will be there again

You (w.b.)

I read a quote once that said "how you do anything is how you do everything." That would explain it I guess. How you could misrepresent yourself to me and also do it to the churches you work for. Wow. They should know though. Don't you think? About who you really are.

the flow

having a great and productive day today. doing work on RED STORIES, my new one woman show. looking forward to it. look out for more info.