New Day - Stream of Consciousness #2

new morning/ fresh thoughts/ letting go/ letting God work it all out/ He all ways does/ always all ways/ faith/ faith/ prayer/ with love/ in love/ sun/ son/ freedom/ the world is Gods and so it is mine too

Be Good to Women Day

In celebration of Be Good to Women Day I celebrate you, the readers of this blog, the founders and contributors. Thank you for honoring yourselves, the women in your lives and women all over.

I will say that as a daughter, sister, aunt, mother, woman and human being I am grateful for a day such as this, however the celebration is bittersweet. Do your own research on the statistics of abuse against women. Research the internet, look into the faces of women in your churches (yes, your church too), schools, neighborhoods and even more sadly, your homes. Be Good to Women Day, Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day should sound as weird as National Blood Flowing through Veins Day and Blinking Day. But I won’t preach. No, I am a poet, an artist, a mother who has seen too many sad, broken, abused, lonely women and has been every one. But I am one of the special ones because I know that abuse does not define me. I am not first name Victim last name Zainabu. In fact, my name doesn’t matter at all. All you need to know about me is that I am God’s daughter. This…knowing was the key to my healing. Because of whose I am I am whole. I am complete.

So how should you celebrate Be Good to Women Day? Well, you create that. I will suggest this, be the change you want to see in your mother’s life for all women, all of the time. And when you forget, remember. And be that again.

God holds the hearts of women
In a special place I feel
The benevolent eye that watches the sparrow
Watches us
I know

Still the conversations of victim, defeat and not enough show up
Harmoniously, in whispers, often, today
We understand, as if understanding were cure
Through long work shifts, sore feet and bills due
We are hopeful inside closets where we cry
On the lawn chairs where we laugh about the nothing
About everything

We know we are enough
Still we are big girls longing jump rope and tetherball at recess

We are strong
We are our mothers our grandmothers
We are words and rainbows
Rivers and results

I stand in front of my mirror
Full breasts
Hips that carried my son
A belly that rested his head

Still the not enough shows up

And sometimes I listen
But then sometimes
I don’t

Be Good to Women Day. Be good to all women. I am every woman and so are you. If I am not well then neither are you. If I have eaten and you are hungry then none of us are well. Be Good to Women every Day.

begoodtowomen.com

Dear Uraeus #18

I am thankful
for you
for your strength
for your wisdom and humor beyond your years
because you are a warrior
for your freedom
for your depth
for your love
because God lives in you

I speak with the ancestors about you
The spirits are in love with you too
Grandmother Omega laughs with you in your sleep
Grandfather Therman plays chess with you
Grandmother Georgia Bell sings to you
Grandpa Richard walks to school with you
Uncle Bubba guides you at the crossroads
Aunt Mary dances with you

The angels are always camped around you
God is always with you

Today I wish you love and laughter
Silliness with security
I wish you the wisdom to know time and place for fun and work
Feel the fingers of all of us who love you massaging your shoulders
Know that you are loved
Know that you are love

Mom

for w.b.

quicksand and breakups
backs and forths
tears forgiveness and love
always love
through it all

lies and rainbows
butterflies and beetles
we are both guilty
of love
of fear
of hurting
on purpose
hurting because we hurt

we are the bad guys
the good guys

there was always love
through it all
all ways love

you are the cloud
the cotton
heartaches are forgotten and
you are my soft place to land

New Day - Stream of Consciousness

because life is always changing and staying the same
and changing back again
because love is always around hanging around
always right under my nose
always right in my face hiding its face
and showing its light
and i can see clearly now the rain has gone

and i can hear Gods voice always clearly clearly
every morning without fail we speak
God and i
we chat and i am at peace
so much peace and i have happiness beyond measure
happiness that cannot be understood
unless you know God and Gods mercy like i do
i am safe in His arms

i am happy letting love have its way
finally its way with God at the head
and no turning back now

i am at peace in praise knowing my position with God
with father
with mother
spirit
love
light

Dear Uraeus #17 Stream of Consciousness

because you are always all ways on my mind/ loving you/ keep tapping into your destiny/ keep minding your mind/ keep finding your center/ remember to breathe/ breathe/ connect and keep reconnecting yourself to yourself/ your power/ love/ remember to love/ remember to love when you forget/ when you forget to love/ because you are always on my mind/ reconnect yourself to your peace/ they/ they/ the nameless faceless theys will try to knock you off your peace because they cannot find their own/ your peace/ your peace/ your peace piece of this pie/ piece of this world/ this love/ dont mind me/ i am just working/ loving/ thinking/ all the time thinking about you/ freeing my mind/ this is how i center myself/ through prayer/ through love/ through writing/ poems/ letters/ to you/ you/ always you/ this stream of consciousness writing/ about you/ about you/ just letting my thoughts pour/ about you/ your smile/ your voice/ my son/ my sun/ my love/ light/ warrior/ champion/ freedom/ brightness/ about you/ letting my thoughts pour/ they/ they/ the nameless faceless theys will whisper what they whisper because they are afraid/ afraid/ to speak out loud/ out loud/ and you know i love you and that is whats important/ what you know/ what you know/ what you and i hold together in our hearts/ together/ one/ heart/ beating/ knowing/ loving/ mother/ son/ family/ freedom/

what we know what we do

more than anatomy
sit down with any woman
listen
absent the filters
what you think you know
she will tell you
much more

ritual of exploring hidden quiet
mysteries resolved in water
dark, dense, space
forbidden and required
our space

the everything we know
trusting dreams
friending visions
knowing no separation
between us and Goddess
us and Spirit

we know
don’t say all the time
but we all ways know
he is lying
she is afraid
tomorrow will come

this will pass
the last embrace
we know it all

it’s the lotioning of legs after shower
after bath
after sex
after prayer

secret way we caress our breasts
fondle the nipple
when we are alone
the whole world of what we do
when we are alone

The thing about writing

Is to sit in the seat
One comfortable for you
I am best at the Lavenderia
On Pico
Just before noon

Something about Los Angeles, Pico, the smell of detergent, noon
That is when my stories come
You find your own
But find them

The thing about writing
Is to tell the truth
Even / especially when it
Doesn’t make you look good
There is no truth about any human being
Without the ugly of it somewhere

And so what about your looking good
The thing about writing is
The story
Spinning
Soak
Rinse
Dry

And so what about your looking good anyway
When there is
The story
The tapestry of lines and letters
Words that form
World

Something we can hold on to
Grow from
Re member
Remember
Add soap to and
Wear again

Give me something I can
Connect to
And tell someone else to help her heal
Him heal
What good is your story if it only massages
Your ego / your pocket
So what
So what about you all by yourself
So what about yourself

There are others in the world you know
Loving / living / breathing / taking up space on this planet too
You know

Painting, writing, washing
Trying to make ourselves new

I don’t care about your erotic poetry
I don’t want you to make me moan all night
I don’t want to bend in positions
That make me scream for you
Calling your name
So what about your name

Enough with your style, your voice, your sexy
I want you to feed me words
Real words I can remember and love
And hold like ugly
Words I can wrap up in
Words that don’t wash out

In laundry, on Pico, before noon

Where we write

We are not confined to desks
On carpeted or wooden floors
With our backs to windows
Or facing the sun
Desks holding dictionary, thesaurus, black or blue bic pens
Matching lamps from JC Penney, Goodwill, Ikea
We write in the world
Church pews, red lights, emergency rooms, laundry mats

We have no conversation for
No time to write
There is always time
Especially when there is not
There is time to write
When there is time to pee, to eat, to sneeze, for sex
We know that we are not fully who we are
When we are not creating
Unwinding the messy of some story, poem, essay

We remember and connect ourselves
Again to ourselves
Through characters we create, kill off, build up
Through stanzas and paragraphs
Sentences and letter by letter
We reach beyond the limits of what we know
Of whom we think we are
Beyond the noise in our heads

Tea with Atlanta McBride #2

Good morning. I hope you had a real good Thanksgiving Day. I know I did. Gon an' have a seat anywhere. If you want some tea, I already have some hot water on the stove. I was about to make me some right now. You sure? Ok.

I gotta say now, it’s just weird to me that you keep comin’ over here wantin’ to know my stories about my life when it’s people with much more goin’ on than me. I aint never really won no awards or nothin’, but you keep comin’, I keep tellin’, what I care?

I guess what come to mind today, since you don’t never seem to care what I talk about is me and Prince. I know a lot of my stories have something to do with a man. And most of them in my stories don’t never seem to be much good. But in their own way, they was all some good. People mostly tell the bad part of a story because that’s what’s still stuck in their minds, ‘cause that part aint all the way smoothed out yet. It’s like our brains is some kinda garbage disposal or somethin’. You take a big ole pot and fill it up with your life and pour it down the garbage disposal and turn it on. What you find is the parts that went on real easy and the parts that didn’t go so easy but you got ‘em all worked out for yourself. Them parts just go down real good. But the parts that still aint all the way right with you, even though you think they are, just get stuck in the drain and make the noise in your mind. Like a spoon that gets stuck, keeps going Wrenk! Wrenk! Wrenk! ‘Till you pull it up and straighten it out.

Well, I met Prince on the streets. It’s funny how we met because I’m the one always sayin’ that I wouldn’t never meet up with no man on the street. I just never thought it was proper for a lady. Don’t you look at me like I don’t know what’s proper for a lady or not. You just never do know what you gettin’ when you meet somebody on the street. It’s better to meet somebody in the church or a bar or a school or something like that. That way you kinda know a little about what they into from the beginning. On the street, you don’t know. Well, I was driving along and came up to a red light. Who should pull up next to me but this real handsome lookin’ man. He was like what they would call regal. Had a deep thick accent. He look like Prince Charming. He even drove a white car. Like he was comin’ up on a white horse or somethin’. That’s why I call him Prince. Oh boy, I can hear it loud now. Wrenk! Wrenk! Wrenk! I may get through this and I may not. Anyway, he pulled up beside me and my window was already rolled all the way down and maybe so was his or he rolled it down just to talk to me real quick. He asked me in that thick mustard voice of his if he could have my phone number and get to know me. I just gave him my number nice and slow so he didn’t forget it. Sure enough he had called me by the time I got home. And that’s how that started.

I called him back the same day and he wanted to come and visit me but I knew that was too soon for somebody to be comin’ over to my house. I don’t too much like bringin’ men around Tanisha. She was about six goin’ on seven then. And smart as a whip. Smart, smart, smart. Well, I was paintin’ a lot back then and I was real good at it. Still am really. I was also still sellin’ my purses but not all the time. Things seem to go in cycles for me. I was sellin’ my art pretty good and so I mostly focused on that hustle. I had got this man over on the other side of town to let me use his shop to have an art show. The show was less than six days away so I invited Prince. We didn’t see each other before then but we talked every day. He was from Nigeria and would tell me about his home, his family back in Nigeria and London and his work over at the Salvation Army. He was somethin’ else.

Well, he showed up at my art show just like I believed he would. We went out to Larry’s after that to get something to eat. Red flags was waving away in my head like crazy but did I listen? No. We don’t always have to learn the hard way, but sometimes we do. He walked me out to my car and pulled out a cigarette and I knew for sure we wasn’t supposed to be together. I can’t stand those stinky things. How you gon be with a man when him and his clothes smell like smoke all the time? You, can’t that’s how. Well, we look over what we wanna look over don’t we? We sure do. It turned out cigarettes wasn’t all he was smokin’. Yeah, after he moved in it got a whole lot stronger than cigarettes.

I believe I’ll have some more tea. What about you? You know, come to think of it, we just gon have to pick this up later on after all ‘cause it’s just too loud in here in my head. I don’t know if you can hear it or not, but it’s sure loud to me. Too loud.

Tea with Atlanta McBride #1

Tea with Atlanta stories by Jaha Zainabu

Call me what you wanna call me but all I knew was I wasn’t gon look my baby girl in the face and not know where we was gon stay the night. Not me. Not never. I had friends who made a game of twenty-four hour diners, laundry mats and spending the daytime at parks and beaches. No way. No how. What’s a kiss anyway? What’s a hug when you really break it down? A place to stay that’s what. And so we moved in. Me and Tanisha.

She had her very own room and was warm and safe and happy and both of us ate every night. And what’s the use of stories like these and why do folks care anyway and mine aint nothin’ special. All people wanna do is make some kinda case where aint no case really to be made. It happens every day, why look at me? But if you wanna know I’ll tell you. What I care if you know or if you don’t? So ok, here it go.

Me and Tanisha was livin’ over by the Park and things was goin’ ok. Ok like not too bad not too exciting, nothin’ to complain about or nothin’ like that you know. I was rentin’ a room from Janie for four hundred dollars a month and I could afford that well enough on my hustle. I sold stuff. Whatever stuff. Clothes, purses, art, some earrings I useta make. I should go back to makin’ earrings. I was real good at it. They useta call me the earring lady you know. I didn’t make that up. Somebody else did. I woulda come up with somethin’ way more clever than that, but somebody called me that and it stuck.

Anyway, Tanisha was only three years old. And it’s true what they say. Time sure does fly by real fast. You gotta cherish those moments when they real little like that ‘cause you don’t get ‘em back you know.

I met him at a coffee shop not far from the apartment and he bought me some peppermint tea and I sat on down and drank it real slow. Tanisha was with her daddy that night. Or my mama. I don’t remember which one that night but I was walkin’ around by myself tryina figure things out ‘cause I knew I couldn’t just keep goin’ on sellin’ earrings and stuff no matter how good I was at it. I had bigger plans than that. Bigger plans than to be rentin’ a room from Janie and everything like that. Mr. Walker bought me some tea and some more tea. The next week he did too. After a few weeks it got to be that’s what we did on Friday nights. Meet at the coffee shop and drink tea. I take Tanisha down to my mama’s and she always happy to see her when the week end and I gon over to the coffee shop. To drink tea.

I found out the hard way that Janie had been sellin’ dope out of the apartment and I just couldn’t have my baby around that kinda mess. If her daddy found out, he would try to take her from me for sure and never let me see her again and I just couldn’t have that. I came home from tea one night and Janie was sittin’ on the couch lookin’ like she had been cryin’. I’m thinkin’ it was one of her boyfriends dumped her again and wondered why she wasn’t use to it it happen so much. But she tell me that BigBaby come by and wanted more than what she could pay for and call herself just gon take it. Well, she did take it. BigBaby a pretty big girl and it didn’t take much to push her way into the apartment. She took all the stuff, my purses I was sellin’, Janie’s grandmama’s silver chains and my money I was savin’ up to get me and Tanisha our own place, plus the rent for next month. Seventeen hundred dollars of my cash money.

Mama didn't really have no room and plus I didn’t want her to know all of what was goin’ on. I didn't really want her to think she was gon have to help me out all the time. My whole life helping me, helping me, helping me like I ain't got no kinda way to help myself. No. Anyway, Mr. Walker said we could just move in with him ‘till I get on my own two feet and so that’s what we did.

We moved out to Carson with Mr. Walker. He was renting a two-bedroom house that he told me he owned. I didn't find out that he was renting until one day I got home before he did and found a three day pay or quit notice taped to the door. But I guess that’s another story. Anyway, we lived walking distance from the mall and the bus lines. That worked for me because my Ford Escort was dying a slow death fast. He was a sweet enough guy I guess. Was real good to Tanisha. He had six grown daughters of his own who was all back east so I guess that’s why he knew how to treat Tanisha so good. As for me, he treated me all right too. I guess. Things don’t never come without a price though. Especially things like gettin’ a place for you and your three about to turn four year old daughter to stay for free. Things like that don’t never come cheap at all.

I knew that I had to hustle harder than I had ever before because no way was I gonna be some old man’s prisoner. Nice guy or not. Free rent or not. I knew I needed my very own money and sooner than later, my very own place to stay. My very own place with Tanisha. Just like I thought, things sure did pick up with my sales. I would go out to a little thrift store in Corona on the weekends and buy fancy purses for only a dollar or two, sometimes three or four, and I would sell them for twenty, maybe even thirty. I thought Mr. Walker would be proud of me makin’ my own money. Thought he’d be glad to know that I wasn’t just tryina take advantage of him and everything like that. Seem like he got madder and madder the more money I made. He didn't like it at all when he found out I was makin’ more in two weeks than he did on his social security check for a whole two months. The more I made, the more I had to pay. Mr. Walker never would take no money rent though. That’s ok. I said to myself all the time. That’s ok. Just two more months maybe three and I would have enough for a place of my own with Tanisha. Just me and her.

After my car broke all the way down I knew I had to come up with a hustle on top of my hustle. I couldn't keep going down to Corona no more ‘cause Mr. Walker wouldn't let me use his car to get down there unless he went too and that was out of the question. It seemed like everything I did he wanted to do too. Which woulda worked fine if we made any kinda team. But he was always competing with me. Tellin’ me I didn't know what I was doin’, down talkin’ me in front of my customers, tellin’ me I should just give him my bags and he would sell them for me ‘cause he knew he could get a better deal and he would give me twenty percent. No thank you. I would borrow my cousin’s car once a month and get down there and sell them on my own, that’s what.

Paying rent. Paying rent. Paying rent. Every night after I put Tanisha to bed. Paying rent. Free rent. I was tired. Real tired of free rent. On top of free rent he started talkin’ down to me all the time. Even when nobody was around. Out of the blue. It would seem like things was goin’ ok then he would just come in the room and tell me that wasn't nobody gon ever love me like him or treat me like him. That I should be glad that somebody would put up with a dark, fat girl like me with nappy hair and had a baby with nappy hair too. I never said anything. Just looked at him and felt sorry for him. I wasn't no fat girl. Thick. In all the right places thick. But wasn't no fat girl in no kinda way. There was plenty of men lookin’ at me who wanted me real bad. I wasn't lookin’ for no man though in the situation I was in. No way. No how. When I got me a man again it was gon be when I was in my own place with Tanisha. When I had my own car. When I had my own money. I felt real sorry for him ‘cause I could see through all them insults and everything like that. He was old and couldn't hide from me no more. I wasn't some young girl he had been buyin’ tea for on Friday nights no more. I was in his house and I knew that he wasn't some rich retired play writer. He was an old man living on the little bit that social security paid. He had some government job a long time ago and had retired.

He didn't have an Italian mother or a South African father. He had a fair skinned mother with two black parents and a black American father born and raised in Mobile, Alabama. Mobile. Alabama.

He knew that I was on my way out and did everything he thought of to keep me there. Except he never seemed to think of just being good to me. I asked him one morning after free rent if I could just money rent the extra bedroom and he could just do what he wanted to do. Even have some other young girl in there payin’ free rent. Way I looked at it it was a win for everybody. Me and Tanisha would still have a place for a while longer and I could be payin’ money rent and he would have some more in his pocket to pretend with while he took his free rent girl out for tea. But what do I know?

It turns out a girl’s got a limit to free rent and when she reach the limit it just ain't no more free rent to give and whether she got a place yet or not or got some money or not just don’t matter one single bit. When I pulled up in my cousin’s car, he thought I was on my way out to Corona. Nope. Wasn't on my way to get no purses. Not that day. I thanked him for everything but I had to leave right then and there and I just came to get me and Tanisha’s stuff. He didn't like that one bit and told me that I wasn't nothin’ but a dark, fat, nappy headed girl who wasn't gon never be nothin’ but somebody sellin’ purses on the street teachin’ her baby girl to be nothin’ but the very same thing. He didn't mean for me to like that but I sure did too like the sound of that.

I didn't know where I was goin’ but I was leavin’ there. I tell you. When free rent run out then free rent run out and no man nor woman knoweth the day nor the hour. I had the car for the weekend ‘cause my cousin was out in Vegas with her friends. I loaded the car with Tanisha’s clothes, my clothes, purses, art stuff, books, a chair or two and some more books. I put a big blanket over everything and went to Mama’s house. She was used to seein’ Tanisha on Fridays so I knew I wouldn't have no explaining to do that day. But still, what was I gon do? I didn't know. I stayed the night at Mama’s that night and turned the TV off and prayed and prayed in the house all by myself. Tanisha and Mama had gone to dinner and to the movies. I didn't go. I needed to pray. I never did tell Mama none of what was goin’ on. I had just made up in my mind to work it work it out without doing that.

The next morning I woke up and called Vanessa first thing. It musta been God answered my prayer ‘cause I was shol prayin’ for a miracle and that’s what I got. Vanessa and I hadn't spoken in over seven months. I exhaled hard when she answered on the third ring. I told her my free rent run out and she understood ‘cause she had paid free rent before too. She said that she was on her way out to Atlanta to see her new man and would be gone for the whole summer and I could stay at her place and just pay the rent there, only catch was that she needed a ride to the airport ‘cause her ride had just flaked on her and I had to be there in an hour. I kissed Mama on the cheek and woke up Tanisha.

In a mustard seed, that’s what happened.

At the heart of the matter

On Wednesday, February 10 I woke up with a tightness in my chest. It felt like a fist behind my heart squeezing. Not my heart. Not my heart. Not my heart. Not today. Not like this. Squeeze. Squeeze. Not. Squeeze. Today. Uraeus.

The pressure lifted and after a few deep breaths, a few deep prayers, I remembered and connected the event to that February 10 last year my father passed away. Heart attack. The pressure in my chest lasted on and off all day.

The next morning, the pain moved from my chest to my back, directly between my shoulders. I told myself that if I was still hurting the next morning then I would go to the hospital. If it is not obvious by now, I don't have health insurance.

At about 3:00 Friday morning, the pain was in my chest again. My left arm was sore and was tingling down to my fingers. Dear God. Dear God. Dear God. Uraeus. Mom. My journals. Uraeus.

Thankfully, the pain dissolved. Uninsured or not, I didn't need a bigger sign. About 7:30 that morning, Therman (my uncle) and I went to the hospital. At that point, the pressure in my chest was on and off. Mostly off. BUT MY BACK! MY BACK!

My blood pressure was dangerously low and the doctor wanted to moniter me throughout the night and do further tests the next morning.

Throughout the night, with pain only in my back I had the headspace to slow my thoughts down and think. I wondered what the tests would show the next morning. I wasn't afraid at that point. I was comforted in knowing that everyone in my life that I love already knows that. I thought about things and people I wasted energy on. Arguments that were not that serious afterall.

The next morning after the stress test, the blood tests, the x-rays, it wasn't my heart. Remember, I am an uninsured so they weren't looking for what the problem was. They just wanted to make sure that they didn't send me home to have a heart attack the next day and then my family sue the day after that.

I know that the pain was a sign to let it go. The worry. The worry over money, bills, family, time, career, friends. The worry over worry. Let it go and love myself.

I am back to walking more. Taking deeper breaths. Recognizing the smallness of what I worried about. Perhaps I did not need a sign so big to learn a lesson so simple. But then again, maybe so.