Hit Number 1: Weather cool enough to make my friend from Cali happy. I got to whip out my ugg minis and not feel ashamed that I missed their warm, cushiony melody hugging my feet and not ripping my toe nail polish off the way my cute boots do. (just saying)
Hit Number 2: Habana Outpost. I just love that place. No further spiel necessary.
Hit Number 3: Karen's Body Beautiful. Oh, the deliciousness of hair care products with a little Maxwell and Jill playing in the background. Am I probably spending too much money on shea butter and conditioner? Absolutely.
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So I found this post that I started in late August and cannot believe I was wearing uggs... in late August. How cool could it have been? I need to seriously address being spoiled by fur lined boots. August....Why not sneakers? (Shaking my head)
Mmmm. Habana Outpost. I really could go for a plate of rice and beans with guac and seventy five degree weather right now. How wonderful it was to be spoiled by summer adventures and thoughts for a moment as I look at the snow on my windowsill and the hot chocolate on the night stand. Summer hurry back. We miss you.
Dreams of golds and sepia
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
New poems
I dig these I hope you will too...
Ex patriotism: covered candle under bed
Less
A dirty word, Albino
Missing skeletal teeth
and grafts of color.
a five year old twisting
grip from a honey hand.
Spotted arms and legs
Cut and sprinkled in glass
For witch and craft
Secret pursuits
of light
Skin and here
are terrors, celebration of
a German- Swedish-Dutch face.
Blood in these lines,
Berbers.
Nairobi’s new trade item,
White skin.
Worksheet
oil on cloth
[HERE]
No hat in this here
church. The ghost ‘git me here
Frankincense, work clothes,
the parable of Lazarus
praise in a body
Our father.
[OUR]
What is it
this our?
Should it be hour?
For one hour we sit in the back of this
Baptist church they pray
They - our father.
[THEY]
I’ve been missing
church, gospel shows, and Grant’s Tomb
I hear that they are there.
White people is alright
not in my neighborhood.
[MY]
If my money goes
towards a little shine
I should not, will not feel
Guilt. What I have is MY
There are words – salvation,
shout, litany. Rounded shoulder
rainbows. My shoulders do not
round.
Stretching marks
Thirteen hand etchings wonder of a son
fist and knife before school
Ankh under arm flesh
pyramid eyes
trim
visual assaults
elevated locs
snatch
light absences
lock this article in white
knee to collar
refuse me
[Aganyu]
Do not understand blue cup.
Azul connects to the mug much quicker
Yesterday a percussionist pounded
Cuban hip hop - calling black identity
french music
[Eshu]
I forget that daily words of allegory
become exoticism here.
When my father intones Yemaya
I tell him race is acceptable
[Oshun]
my skin fades as I hide
from the chill
Your mother can’t swim
[Oya]
I do not have the trade answer
the spicket falls from the ceiling
mask in air
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
7 Things that have made me smile in the last 7 days...
In totally disrupted order.
5. "Why the big girl got her legs open like someone ordered pork?"
- Geezus y'all. Please know my friend (who is the greatest of all time by the way) was not making fun of big women. But this one particular woman was sitting facing us with her legs wide open. (A separate issue entirely I know. Smdh.) I nearly spit white wine in his lap when he said this. All the ladies who are a size 12 and above. Stand up. You're plenty fly. If she had been skinny heaven knows what would have flown from his mouth. And that is what really makes me smile. I love having friends that you never know what amazing-ness will spawn from their lips. Good, bad, or ugly his authenticity is always welcome and lovely.
3. Getting to be a tourist in my hometown. New York you are brutal, exciting and unexpected. Wouldn't want to look at the world from a different lens than this one. But I could probably be persuaded in the direction of the south or a European country without much effort. If anyone has tickets to the south of France or South Carolina I'm great company.
1. Watching my niece and two friends she made at the beach, jump, crash, and splash in the waves. Don't you want to be seven again? Even for a moment. I do.
4. Learning that sometimes being an absentee friend is actually allowing space for the growth that only distance encourages.
2. Looking at the difference and similarities in the palm of a hand. I have tons of lines on the inside of mine. D has tons of the outside of his. What this means I am not sure. It's fun to think about though.
7. Learning a few of my buddies are fiercely and bravely chopping their hair off to reveal their beautiful faces and textures. So exciting and jubilant. My definition of beauty - the look on your face when you really see yourself for the first time. Granted I'm no Merriam Webster but I bet you felt that definition a little deeper than word etymologies and synonyms.
6. The phrase "experiments in becoming myself" can't think of a better way to experiment with, for, or towards. Shout out to Outside of the Boxes on youtube for that statement. You really can learn anything on youtube.
Marriage? I guess. - Consulting Anne Carson like that delicious magic eight ball when we were kids.
The words you should have a blog have entered and grazed through my life multiple times in the past 4 years. I cannot contain my fb status updates and text messages to the allotted one hundred characters. Finding something I don't have an opinion, excitement, or passion about is rare. And.. I am laugh out loud, grab your heart with enamoration (Yup I just made that a word. My blog. I do want I want.) at other people's blogs.
So what is being delayed?
An exercept from Tango I
from The Beauty of The Husband:
An essay in 29 Tangos
What is being delayed?
Marriage I guess.
That swaying place as my husband called it.
Look how the word
shines.
What kind of strange dance break was that? Well, there are different kinds of marriage. Commitment is supposed to be comforting and secure. Committing to writing daily and sharing my often insane meanderings with the general publique. Terrifying! But I can't help being in awe of how that word shines.
So what is being delayed?
An exercept from Tango I
from The Beauty of The Husband:
An essay in 29 Tangos
What is being delayed?
Marriage I guess.
That swaying place as my husband called it.
Look how the word
shines.
What kind of strange dance break was that? Well, there are different kinds of marriage. Commitment is supposed to be comforting and secure. Committing to writing daily and sharing my often insane meanderings with the general publique. Terrifying! But I can't help being in awe of how that word shines.
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