A poem a day for 2013 - day 151 - On the day

I went to a funeral today
Heard all these kind words
And wondered about my own memorial
With my finite self
Wondered what words
What tales
What lies
What truths
What secrets
What stories

If you say anything
Please say I cared
Say I loved
Say your name was important in my mouth
Call out the names of babies missing
Killed
Abused
Women torn
Broken
Men beaten
Lost
Please remember me in your search
For justice
For healing
For connecting

Say a poem
About fingers feeding the hungry
Bring shoes for some stranger's feet
Throw my ashes in the wind
And dance
Hug a neck you never knew
Call your mother
Visit your father
Spoil your children
Kiss your brother
Rub your sister's back

Remember me with your feet
Your food
Your water down an old woman's throat
Your balm dripping wet and cold and sting
Down a man's back
Like storm

Remember me with your be
Your am
Your moments
Still and small and precious

Early

7:54am. Starbucks.

Therapy day. Thankfully.

A poem a day for 2013 - day 150 - Roller coaster. Roller coaster.

I am always questioning my emotions
Wondering if the tears mean the elevator is dropping
Again
If the loud fast speech is the beginning of a balloon ride
Too high
While balloons are fun
Who doesn't want a balloon ride
High in the sky every now and then
But sometimes it's just time to go home
And eat soup
Drink tea
Sleep

Happy birthday, Roshann

Sending birthday love to my sister, Dr. Roshann Williams. I love you!

Neat

I keep my living quarters pretty neat to a fault. And by fault I mean I can be pretty fucking irritating about it. My brain starts screaming when things in my room are out of place. Then there are the other days. Days like today when I cannot fold the laundry. I cannot make up my bed. I cannot line my shoes. I just cannot. And my brain is still screaming for impeccable order. But my body cannot deliver. I did well getting dressed, brushing my teeth and getting to work five minutes late.

Please note

If I share news with you that I am excited about and the first and / or only thing you have to say is something negative, then I'm going to stop sharing my news with you. I'm very funny like that.

Here, dear

Facebook break

3:33am. Home.

Of course I'm up at this time. Had a few rough moments last night. More than a few, but I was and am determined not to sink into the mud. I did not go out. I came home and went to bed. Not to sleep. Sleep took a while. I needed quiet. And food. And water.

Still didn't finish the writing assignment due tomorrow but hey, there's still today, right?

I made the decision to get off of Facebook for a period. I don't know how long. But for now for sure. I keep getting so triggered by super depressing articles and even more depressing comments. I saw an article yesterday about two black teens in Chicago who were killed, strangled by four white teenagers who invited them to a party. The invitation was a joke. They just wanted them there to kill them. Why? Well because two of the white teens had a fetish for having sex with a corpse. Sooo.... The article goes into how the teens had sex on top of the bodies of these boys. These black boys. Our babies. Our growing men. I. Just. Couldn't. That was too much. I'm just one of those people who feel everything. I just do.

I couldn't and can't even imagine what the parents, friends and families are going through right now. The loved ones on both sides, the victims and the abusers. It's too easy to just say, as the comments have said, that they, the abusers, are just "possessed by the devil." Possessed by the devil means that there are not people in the world who choose this kind of wickedness. And there are!

The shit never fucking ends! The stories get worse and worse. I write a poem and say cute little words and call out names of the dead. And in the end they are still dead and I can't get their voices and faces and stories out of my head. I have become a cemetery. Holding all these bodies. Sinking lower and lower with the bodies I write about. Bodies and unjustly imprisoned men and women and the abuse and misunderstanding of the mentally abused. And dot dot dot. I had to tap out at sex on top of strangled black teens.

I'm still posting my poems every day but I'll just be posting them here on this blog. If anyone wants to read them, they will be here. I'm not even posting my photos on FB right now. I just can't even log on to it. Maybe I'll post advertisements for Red Stories near the end of the month, but that's about it. At least for now. There is good in the world and good on Facebook too. Just...I need a break. That's all.

A poem a day for 2013 - day 149 - Sigh

There are no words 

For the ice I am 

After reading about

Four white teens

(Two boys two girls)

Luring two black male teens

To a party

To strangle them

To death

And have sex

Over their dead bodies

Because two white teens

Had a fetish 

Maybe tomorrow

I will breathe

Not today though

Not today

Errands

2:12pm. Work.

Had a bit of running around to do this morning. Dropped off photos in Long Beach at my sister's school. Dropped off other photos from the prom party I shot on Saturday in Long Beach. In traffic back to Los Angeles. Stopped home for a minute to eat two cups of yogurt then headed to work. I'm sleepy. Not from the day really, just because.

I have a writing project I've known about for three weeks due Friday and I need to get it cleaned up tonight. As much as I want to A. Go to the opening of Donny's one man show and / or B. Go to see Joshua feature at The World Stage, I need to finish this assignment so I can get paid. And I need to get paid.

Side note. These hot flashes are kicking my ass. They are.

I'm looking forward to spending time with my son who will complete his sophomore year of high school tomorrow. So proud of him.

Shooting a funeral on Friday in Los Angeles, family portraits in Long Beach Saturday morning and a show in Malibu Saturday night. Cool.

I'm staying in the moment. I get pretty overwhelmed when I get too far ahead of myself. And I feel myself headed there. ***Calming down now***

No big news. Just free writing. Just checking in.

P.S. The funeral I'm shooting Friday is V. Kali's mother. Rest in love and peace Ms. Connie.

A poem a day

I'm not even halfway through my project A poem a day for 2013. I'm sticking with it. I haven't missed one day. I like that.

Release

11:46pm. Home.

I have nothing I want to say in this free write tonight. Not really. Just felt like watching my fingers move and form words that might be trapped in my head before going to bed. I'm a bit tired. Work was pleasant for the most part. Still trying to generate more photography clients and thankfully it is building. The best part about being a photographer is reminding people how beautiful they are. Reminding myself how wonderful nature and my surroundings are. Beauty in the simple simple things. Hands clapping. Grass minding its own business. Trees thinking and standing tall. Water being water. All of it.

The room is quiet now. I need quiet. It's almost quiet in my head even. That's not always.

I have a full day tomorrow. Night to all of you. Whoever you are.

A poem a day for 2013 - day 148 - When

I remember ponytails and the red Tupperware container 

That held rubber bands and barrettes

I remember hating to be dressed like my little sister who is four years my junior

I wore a frown cross my forehead so much 

Ms. Magee, my kindergarten teacher told me it would become a permanent part of my face

I remember inquisitive was my first favorite word

I remember being afraid

Afraid of dogs

Afraid of men

Afraid of being skinny and girl

I remember Marcus pulled a gun on Tara and me when we were walking home from school

We were all sixth grade babies

I remember wondering how he got a gun

I remember being too afraid to tell

I was too afraid to tell too many things

I remember my mother picking her Afro in the bathroom

My pretty mother

I remember my father washing his car on the front lawn

I remember him sending me to the corner store with a note

Instructing the cashier to give me a pound of hog head cheese and zig zags

I remember coming home with hog head cheese and zig zags

I remember Ms. Marquez, my fifth grade teacher was always mean to Joney C.

I remember when Joney's mother died

I didn't understand how mothers could die with children still in school 

In seventh grade my friend Alicia died 

And no one told us why

Alicia, with her brown eyes and puffy ponytails

I remember going with my grandmother to so many funerals at the church

To this day I hate chicken

I hate soggy cereal and wet hair in the sink

I love how freely I can use the word hate

I remember when I felt guilty about not loving everything

I hate things

I love things

I choose

I remember not being able to choose

I remember all the times I didn't choose myself

I remember when I finally did

Choose

Me

A poem a day for 2013 - day 147 - For Arria Wright

I witch my words like prayer
And spell you home
You are not a missing
Not you
Not you
You are a found
You are a home
You are a safe
We see you well
The we in your world is bigger than you know
We are your mother's we
Your father's
We are the we of your aunts cousins friends
We pray you home
Your worries lifted
Your fears away
Breathe, baby
Baby, breathe

A poem a day for 2013 - day 146 - Ohh be bop

Remember when I wrote that poem about the way you drum me to sleep
Then we woke up and I grits and eggs with you so Mississippi
And afterward we moonshine so sloppy
Doo wap so shoo be doo
Who could ever sing so free again

A poem a day for 2013 - day 145 - Goodnight

I am thankful
And tired
And feet and body worn
From loving my life whole
Today

A poem a day for 2013 - day 144 - Dear Uraeus

Your love
Your hello
Your I love you
All of your words
Steady my pulse
Rest my head
Through night

Pheona Glenann from Burn Notice

"People get hurt and things get complicated no matter what you do."

My horoscope today

Your Horoscope for May 24, 2013 First Name: jaha Edit birth information Sun Sign: Virgo Date of Birth: September 3, 1969 E-mail Address: jahasart@yahoo.com Today • Tomorrow • This Week • This Month Virgo, you don't have to be at everyone's beck and call all the time. This is exhausting, and you lose contact with yourself. You should try to take some time out today. Take a good look at your life to see where you're going. Go for a walk or take a long bubble bath. Things will be much clearer after a relaxing day of reflection.

A poem a day for 2013 - day 143 - Gratitude

I am thankful today for life
For all of the ways it is complicated
I am thankful for the anteneas that grow from my head
And wrap round sky water fire valley
I am thankful for feeling it all
For being live to tell about it
I am thankful for the holes I fall into
So deep
Then the morning come and I am thankful again
For touch
For one more day
Even if one more day
Friends
I am thankful for love ones who
Stretch praying fingers toward my way
When I will not fold my own
For my mother
For her fight for my smile
My air
My son
For his be
My sister
Aunts uncles
Cousins
For hugs I rest my head in so easy
Pocket for my tears
I am thankful for happy
For simple
For song
Butter
Fly
For nothing
For all of my nothing
God give me every
Day

Feautre

9:29am. Home.

Thankful for the few hours of sleep I had this morning. Really thankful. Loving the sun shining through my window. Looking forward to my feature tonight in the valley at The Bakery Lounge. Going to work today. This is a good day. It is. It is.

Dream. Elevator. Cycle.

4:07am. Home.

I had a dream night before last that I was on the twenty-second floor in an elevator. I pushed the button and the elevator fell. Fast. I haven't come out of that dream yet. I'm falling. Fast. Emotionally I'm all over the place and still trying to maintain some sense of normalcy. I know I'm off though. Again. It's part of the cycle. I'm so tired of it. Been trying to control thi thing with diet and exercise. I think it's helping in the sense that I don't seem to have episodes as often or as severely. They come though. They do. The inability to sleep. The depression. The paranoia. The stuff. It's been a coup,e of days and I'm not expecting it to last long. Despite this junk, I'm such an optimist. Kinda. Mostly I can't function properly with this heavy and I'm determined to function properly. And by properly I mean with a clear head. This moment is not easy though. Yesterday was not easy. Today will be better. Today will be better. It just will be.

A poem a day for 2013 - day 142 - Soundtrack to my together

I find breath

Long drives

Full tank

Pacific Coast Highway

Malibu

Easy traffic

Breeze

Roots

Rakim

Guru

Lyte

Latifah

La Havas

Badu

My shoulders fall

Inhale deepens

Long walks

Sand

Water

Shells

Adele

Winehouse

Mvula

Hathaway

Nikon

Red sky

Blue

Gray

Birds

Old churches

Tall buildings

Stairs

Sunflower lined pathways

Alleys

Sade

Green

Aretha

Wonder

Kissing couples

Strangers on bus stops

Art on walls

Poetry on sidewalks

Windows

Stop signs

Initials carved in bark

Alone

I need alone

With my whole self

Trees

I need trees

Willow

Palm 

Whispering leaves

Wiping 'way

Clouds

I need water

Wet running over my head

Heat on my back

Moon

I need moon

Rub my cheek my chin

Till I sleep

Mahalia 

Clarence Carter

Johnnie Guitar

Chamomile

Peppermint

Jasmine

Nina

Gil

Gregory Porter

Sleep

I need sleep

Please

Please sleep

All the way through sleep

Anita

Winans

Cleveland

Poetry

Prayer

Drum

Bass

Covers to my nose

Pillows under my neck

Lilies

Tangerines

Soup

I need soup

And song

And words

Words so touch

Reach

So forgive

Grab

Melodies so wrap 'round my gut

Well me to the 

Day

A poem a day for 2013 - day 141 - Dear Uraeus

I believe in you

I believe you will find your way

To articulate the questions of your heart

You will find the answers

The answers will be more questions

And you will walk down roads

In search of whys and wheres

You will build bridges

You will separate yourself 

And find your way back again

You will follow the stars

You

I believe you will head in cloud

You will feet on ground

You will conquer and lose

You will give away and fly over 

You will win and forgive

You will forget and accept

You will live

You will love

You will art

You will laugh

Journey

Travel

Fly

Believe

Read

You will know

You will cherish the ways you are different 

You will know that you are the same

You will show us that we are all one

We are only one

You will path

You will forward

You will remember

Dance

I hope you dance

I wish you dance

I wish you free and kick and spin

Happy

I wish you happy

You will happy

I speak you happy

You will moment

You will know the precious of minutes

Seconds

Time

I wish you time

You will time

You will health

You will wealth

You will books

You will water

Land 

Dirt

See

You will see 

You will see through

Beyond

Before

You will action

You will hero

You will kind

Create

I wish you create

You will hold

I wish you hold

Hold knowing

I am always with you

Hold knowing 

I am proud of you

Hold knowing my love

Hold getting that you are known

By me

From the brilliant mind of Wil Gafney

The lessons of Job, recently a question on my final exam, are not academic. Why did Job's children die in a collapsed house during a storm? Where was God and what was he doing? The horrifying answer is that God was playing games with Job's life and the lives of his children. But Job has this crazy faith, that there is more to God than he can see or understand. And he wants to understand. So he goes looking for God to give him a piece of his mind and to get some answers. Job sues God. (Lots of technical, legal terminology in Hebrew.) God responds to the summons and blows Job's mind in another storm. And this is where things get tricky. God never explains himself leaving me and many other readers frustrated with the text. But something happens between God and Job. God yields to Job. God admits that Job is right. What has happened to him was not fair. God acceptance of Job's charges invite us to rage against God, to God as well. And that sappy happy clappy happy-ever-after-ending misses the point: New children can't replace lost children and money doesn't erase or comfort grief. But having a God who hears, listens and responds - even if he is inscrutable and his ways arbitrary is a comfort in the Iron Age and perhaps even now.