ROOOOOAAAARRRR!

Wow...The last couple of days have been interesting. I told you this week would be a doozie. My insight is always on point. I don't like to divulge all of my personal business on my blog. I choose and select what I put out here.

So this I will tell.

Things haven't really been pleasant on the home front. "His-story" probably has a canted version, so check it out. I get a phone call from my mother at work, and she's asking me about a poem on my blog. I'm like WTF? I have two blogs..myspace which is so diluted from what poetrynoir is. I asked her how she knew about my blog. She tried to say that her godsister kids are on my myspace and told her about it. But the particular poem she was referencing isn't on myspace. AH HA! So I asked her over and over again how she knew about it. She finally said her friend found it. Bull shit! His-story probably gave the url to her just to be spiteful. I think his motive was to tell my mother in hopes that I would take poetrynoir down. Nope! Won't happen!

I was at work livid nonetheless. I feel yet again like a little kid who's privacy has been invaded. She had the nerve to tell me to take it down. How dare someone try to censor me. Number one I don't use names, and I always add different details ect to most of the pieces I write. I AM A WRITER, AND I AM NOT SELF CENTERED! I CAN AND WILL WRITE ABOUT EVERY FUCKING THING UNDER THE HOT ASS SUN. Unlike other writers I don't have to give every single detail about my life. Of course I write about me, but I also speak from different voices. THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE FORGET TO UNDERSTAND. I know some writers who can't write unless the story involves them. How are you creating art, if you are the only character that you present to your readers?

My whole demeanor changed instantly when I found out that she read my blog. I had already been crying all morning, which I hardly ever do unless it's serious. I felt like I wanted to scream, or take a shot of Patron. I needed something to calm my nerves. My first thought was to take down my blog, since a part of my world has been invaded by people who AREN'T welcome. I know my blog is public, but I don't give my blog out to all of the people I know. A couple of people from my life know, but my mom! No! That isn't cool...but I'm not taking it down. There is probably some ugly stuff on here, and I won't take it down. When you go to places you have no business going, you may experience some unpleasant sensations.

Okay..I just wrote from my heart on this one. Right now at this moment I don't care...

Exposed
My art, that I create
Has been compromised
By on lookers
Who are better off
With their eyes closed
And not in my business
Even though they figure
That in my business
Is where they belong
Until I publish..
A book of my poems
I think I have a right
To filter my viewers
By not displaying my blog
To those who I don't welcome
Into this part
Of my life...
Who actually know me..

Poetrynoir is private
In the sense
That you can't search
Under my government name
And find Some Kind of Therapy
Cuz I go by FOIA *fwaah*
Poetrynoir is dark
It is my reality
And how dare anyone
Try to hush me...
Because it won't work
.....Just conjured up
A whole lot of
Hot air and wind
And tropical depression Foia
Has just been upgraded
To a hurricane
And I'm about to storm

So now you know
All about me
Being in the Hospital
Does it make you happy?
Does it make you proud
To fucking know
That you have a Bipolar child?
It's all your fault
And yes I point the finger
At you and my father
The gene generators
Ya'll could have made up
Where ya'll lacked
Nature vs. Nurture
But my tabla rasa
Was scribbled on
From day one
I was never a blank slate?
Was I?
Huh????
Nah..cuz I was Locked
How could I ever be free?
I felt trapped, often
But which led me to actually
Getting to know the true me
My lack of security
Drove me straight here
To "Some Kind of Therapy"

This may be hard to swallow
But even though I'm mad
I still love you..

I write from the heart
I write in the light
I write in the dark
I know myself
And there were many times
Material items were lost
And I know
I don't have much
But my knowledge of self
Is one thing I know
I will forever hold onto
No matter what

The places that I have walked
Have shaped the person that I am
I wouldn't trade the experiences
I've had for nothing
Because boy...I've got stories to tell
That's what makes me such a great
Rhythm-reflectionist
Because I view the world
And relay it back
How I see it..
Raw and Uncut
And I will write
Until the day..
My.Heart.Stops.
Like it or not
I am what I am
And if you don't love me
I can do bad all by myself

I don't want pity
I am not cause for concern
It makes me want to throw up
To think that you know
Keep your comments to yourself
Because you'll only make things worse
And yes I remember..
How you talked about everyone "else"
So go ahead an pray
If it makes you feel better
Tell people if you want
I am still a pretty picture
And from far away
No one can even tell
That my frame is slightly broken
So do as you please...
As hard as this was..

I AM FINALLY FREE!!

One last thing...
From now on when you stop by
Say hi
Those of you who "know" me
Why are you invisible?
That's kinda like spying
And that's rude
Going to someones house
And walking through their door
Not saying one word
When you know
What the home training rules...say
That you open your mouth
And say hello


I'm done roaring for tonight. The lioness is tired. In more was than one. I know I know..I shouldn't let things upset me..But I hope that I am understood, this is something that is worth my blood pressure being high for. My poetry, my words..my life..I write about it..That's the first process for me that helps me to let things go...


I am about to put my comments back to where I have to approve them first. So, please all of my readers leave your email because I'm thinking the blog is going private!

*******************Did ya'll watch Americas Next Top Model tonight? They have a transgendered model on there..And He/She is pretty..I couldn't believe it when they said it!! ******************************

I am so tired. I don't feel like writing. Sorry to disappoint you. I'll holla later on today!

Another man...disrespecting our bodies

My cousin got raped. Her name is Esha. She is two years older than me, and I remember looking up to her. I talked to my father and he told me. They guy climbed through her window. He also raped 3 other women that night. This happened right across the street from where I grew up. To the right of my house there was a school. My mother went there when she was a little girl. The city recently decided to knock down the school, because the last time I was home 2 years ago it was still standing. They built some houses on the lot. She lives in one of the houses with her two sons. They caught the bastard.

I really don't have time to finish this post. I'm going to babysit one of my old students and her baby sister who is soooooo chubby. * I heart chubby babies* I need to get ready. I gotta find out more info on my cousin.

I'll holla...

08 29 08

First, I must say that our future President Mr. Obama is amazing! GO BARACK!!



Okay, I am fine! I knew I would be. Up. Down. Up.Down.Up.Up.. I get tired, but not enough to stop trying. I have to write. Writing wakes me up to reality. Writing is my therapy..



What I learned today: That anti-social people can actually see the world for what it really is. Poets and artists are truly the ones who choose not to ignore the state of the world we live in. Spectacles are all around us. Now that I'm truly aware of this notion, I can choose not to take part in it. That's why I suppose most poets/writers commit suicide. ie Silvia Plath and the guy who's name I can't spell, that came up with the whole "Spectacle" idea when talking about the medias influence on us. I am a poet, but I am by far anti-social..



I had a really dope idea for a poem tonight..But I'm tooooo tired. So I will give something I say...impromptu... Have a happy Friday!!



I am a little girl
The prettiest little girl
In the world
That's what everyone tells me
I have blue eyes and brown curls
I love to wear dresses
And skirts
My mommy always tells me
To keep my legs closed
Because men take that as a sign
That they don't have to
Proceed with caution
And will want to take advantage
Of her pretty child
Then I will never be clean
And when I take a bath
It would be like..I could never
Wash the dirt off
I would be filthy forever

I never thought it would happen to me
Until my mommy got married
And my step brother
Touched me..

I was just a little girl
He was teenage boy
Who knew better
But he played with me like a toy
My private area raw
So I told my mom
She looked at me down there
She asked me what happened
I told her he touched me
The son of her husband
In a corner, and I told him to stop
But he wouldn't
Even though I screamed ouch
The friction of my skin
Against his hand
Left my skin swollen and red
And now I walk around dirty
Just like mom my said..


She told her husband
He couldn't 't believe it
His precious prince
The husband swore up and down
That step brother would never do such
That his son knew better
Than to touch a little girl
My mom knew he wouldn't believe us
But a mother always believes her child
That day we left
And we got lost
So I could be found
Because when step brother fondled me
I lost part of who I was
As a child

*********Was going to TRY and proofread..but I don't give a damn so whatever..


Okay..I have wayyyyy more good days than I do bad days..So today was one of the doozies I will remember forever. If you scroll down I said this week would be interesting.
I don't even want to try to put together a sentence right now. I am so upset at myself. This is what I love best, and somehow I've lost a part of me. I apparently don't know where to insert a comma, or maybe I'm just afraid
of the "overuse" of a comma? My word choices are iffy, and I just all around suck. Now, it's no ones fault but my own. Arrgh..I don't feel like going into specifics, but all I can say is..

I got broken down today. Again, I don't want to go into specifics. Let's just say I won't ever forget those words for as long as I live. Sometimes if a person knew who they were making a statement to they probably wouldn't say it. I know this person has no history on me, and really doesn't know the damage that it could possible cause. I have learned something so far in school that no meaning is fixed?

I could take whatever it was in two directions...

A. The person making the statement is trying to better me..

or

B. The person making the statement is dead on the nail..and what's the point of trying when I'm just going to prove them right?

Maybe the statement was made just so I could prove them wrong?

Which brings me back to you have to know who your talking to..

Sometimes things are better off unsaid.

*********************************************

Right now @ 10:06
I quite frankly could care less
About what happens to me
In this life before death

It wouldn't phase me @ the moment
If right now..
I was taking
My last breath

Because then I would be dead
And maybe
I can get a retake on life
Because in this one I failed

I don't comprehend
Yet, I always study
For every quiz and exam
Yet, I have a hard time
Trying to pass

An underachiever
Has been spotted out
By someone..
Who spots them the most
And they just proved
My theory correct
That my life is a curse

So right now @ 10:13
I wish I had a knife
To slash my veins
The only thing
I would overachieve at
Is being dead..

*****************************

I feel like being dark right now. I struggled to even put that piece of crap above together..I see myself hitting the other side of my polar. It's a whole lot of crap just piled on top of me right now, and I'm trying to juggle it. Right now though..I want to throw in the towel. I want to say F school, F work, F life, and I want to retreat to a life of sleeping. I may just do that for this week. I fought so hard to get back into school, and right now I don't care. I know this is probably my unbalance talking..but damnit if it remains unbalanced for too long I ain't got no choice but to fall. And that may make some people happy. Well just know they aren't happier than me.

I am straight though.I learned a loooong time ago in one of my psychology classes is that I have "all or none thinking"...meaning it is all one way or not.And usually when it's "not" I don't cope too well.. That is what I'm experiencing now..I feel like crap yes, but whatever happened today will either..

A. Motivate me to be the person I know I can be..

or

B. Add to the state of my deteriorating mind :)

Bad days...they all come..and they sure go..but they hardly every get forgotten.

Go Obama!

Well..she made me cry!

Go Michelle Obama! Boy can she give a speech...I hope to become a great orator like herself.

When her brother was giving his speech..I was thinking they really look alike. She is the spitting image of her mother. They all have the same teeth or something..She is beautiful though..and so are their daughters..

I am so happy...I am am always thankful for our ancestors who paved the way for us. I want to see this happen soooo bad. GO OBAMA! If that old man wins..I'm going to become an ex patriot. I would rather live in Mexico than in the US if this goes wrong..

Man..the whole story about her big brother and her having to share a room was touching..When she talked about being a mother I felt everything she was saying. Whenever she spoke of her girls I cried a lil bit harder. I mean I was balling. I would see my mother cry at like Princess Diana speaking, or at the OJ verdict, but I never knew as a child I one day would do the same thing. I definitely connected with her. If she can do it..so can I..and any other woman. Then she made me smile, when she brought up health care, and especially mental health care. She almost made me proud to be a citizen of the USA..

Hold up..Why isn't Barack there?

Anyway..her hair is fly too. I wonder if she's natural?

John McCain story compelling..Ha! Is he serious?

I'm digging the Democratic National Convention...


America
The land of the free
Was that term coined
Before, or after slavery?
Because if before..
I totally understand
Freedom was something
That could only be enjoyed
By a white man

But my ancestors fought
And picked cotton and tended to the crops
They cleaned other peoples houses
They raised other peoples babies
They got hung from trees
As a form of entertainment
They got sexed by the master
That contributed to our "mixed" race
And added to our confusion
A systematic approach to self hate

But I thank them
Every time I look at the sky
I am amazed
That their escape to freedom
All depended on the direction
Of one single star
They made the first steps..
By forcing the US..to set "us" free
Now we're closer than ever
To reaching something
I'm sure they never dreamed
To see a African American President
Run the country
Go Barack Obama, 2008

Monday

After this final last step
I will be free
But after I tell my parents..
My secret..
I am pretty sure
They will speak
And tell it... 2
aunts
uncles
cousins
and family friends
Then the word will spread that
"Something is wrong with that girls head"
In their presence
They will constantly pay attention
For signs..
That I possibly might just be going crazy
Right at that moment..
As I stand before them

Then I will need a tee shirt
Then I could be proud
But my parents won't be
Knowing that they have a "bipolar" child
They would pity me
.......And I would tell them
That it's all their fault
That I'm "crazy"
Somebodys genes aren't right
Or maybe it was just nuture
Whatever the case may be
"Ya'll had something to do with it"
I'm nothing but a product of
My mothers egg
And my daddy's nut
And the two mixed together
Created a daughter
Who happens to have bipolar..

******************************************

Yeah so still don't know what to do. I get all nauseous when I think of talking to my mom or dad about this. They most def have a mental illness stigma and they hold it very high. How can I say that I want to break downt he stigma for m.i. when I can't even tell my own parents? I just don't want them being all weird..I also know for a fact that the whole harbor-town will find out..hm? Should I care? I don't think so, but I do..I just don't want people questioning..is she going to flip right now..right here..right here..Don't fret..I got this under control..

Nonetheless, I'm sure this week will be interesting..

And it happens again...

We'll today is my mothers 50th birthday. I was going to call her and wish her a happy bday when I woke up this morning. But that was at 4:40 in the am and I figured she would be still asleep. So I rolled back over onto my stomach, and in the darkness I thought and meditated. Finally, I went back to sleep. I didn't wake up again for the second time until she called me. I wished her a happy birthday and whatnot. She told me that one of her clients family took her out for dinner. She continued with talking about how her lil man friend was going to order takeout and hangout with her today. The abruptly she adds "oh yeah I know you didn't want me to know because you didn't tell me, but I'm paying your hospital bill off." I'm like no she didn't just say that to me.

*If you didn't know in JUNE she was here visiting me, and basically broke into my mail box. She retrieved my mail. As I come home, baby girl runs from the back yard screaming "nana opened your mail." I knew she COULDN'T do that. Anyway, she committed a crime and felt that it was okay because I'm her daughter. I was pissed off, and hurt. @ her still treating me like a child and invading my property. No telling what else of mine she has.* Anyway, now it comes back again today.

She has known since that day in June that I had been "hospitalized" so why now on her birthday does she bring this up? I didn't say anything after she told me she knew. She just said that I don't have to worry now about the bill going into collections. I am mad and I feel violated all over again.

So I don't know what to do next. Do I tell her that her daughter has Bipolar? Do I lie about the circumstances that landed me there? Or do I pretend nothing is wrong?

I do not NEED a person that constantly is questioning me. "Did you take your meds today?" "Are you depressed or manic?" "Do you think you are suicidal?" "Your eyes seem a little dark and stormy, are you feeling okay?" Hell no! Like I've said previously I don't wear a darn shirt that says "I AM BIPOLAR." But some of my friends/professors (I was in some of their classes when it happened) do know. I know it probably crosses their mind , but they don't let me know it. I talk about it openly if they want to. They don't treat me any different. My mother will.

I always go back to that drive down Naiper Ave. in B.H. Michigan. One of her coworkers drove past us and she said "She's crazy. She is bipolar." WTF? I didn't know about me back then, but I hate when people mock people who have differences other than themselves. Especially disabilities. She did it again last week when I was on the phone with her driving home from work. She said, "You know such and such? Well the one who had retarded daughter?" I said "no" in a lower tone pretending to be distracted. I tuned her out from that moment on. I was thinking there she goes again. And of course I remember Alicia, and she had down syndrome. I didn't even want to ask her if she died since she used "had."

I guess this may be my opportunity to tell her exactly what's up, and how I feel. But I don't want to. I don't if I'm ready. But the up side to this is once she does know I can finally become the type of mental health advocate I want to be. I don't think I will be to fully achieve that status until I come out of total hiding.I can't wait until I graduate so I can start working on my non-profit organization. I guess of not now..then it will happen later.

I wish that I could be open with you
But you have been invading my privacy
Since I can remember..
You always apologize
Yet never mean it
Because you turn right around
And do it again
Thinking that it's your right to know everything
Because you're my mother
And I'm you're kid
But that's not how it goes
It's called trust...
And there is no way..
That I trust you..

How can I?

I had to hide my art
While living in your house
For the fear of being read wrong
But you still found it..
And made sure I knew ..
Should have kept it a secret
When you read..
That I had lost my virginity
When in all actuality
The poem was about my bff..Kourtney
I lost tons of respect for you
Because you invaded my poetry

Now your invading my life as an adult
When I am hundreds of miles away
I feel violated right now...
The same way I felt when I was 16
All I can do now
Is buy a safe..
And when you come to visit
I can lock all my privacy away

Friday Post!!

First, I must say...Art is a representation of it's artist yes, but when it comes to me and my poetry aka rhythmic reflections everything I write about doesn't depict my life. I write about the homeless, yet I haven't been homeless. I write about being a prostitute, and I've never been pimped. I write about being autistic, but I am blessed to be able to interact with the world around me. I write about having a son, and I have a daughter. I write about having a husband in the military, and I do not. I don't know how many times I need to emphasize that I write about everything that I see. I've seen happiness. I've seen death, suicide, murder. I've seen poverty. I view the world through many peoples eyes. That's what makes me so good. So please readers, when you read something dark..remember where you are..Poetrynoir!

Right now I am so tired. I am in no way a -wake up -before 7 a.m. person, and of my classes are early in the morning:( Then when I am done with 3 classes each day I drive a hour to work, and a hour back home. That is two hours out of my day that I could be using to do some of this homework that I have.

My kids at the after school program are still rowdy, and very disobedient. Today I am trying to read a story while the other teacher sets up for arts and crafts. One baby *she's 2* is being picked up by her aunt, and this new girl *she's 17* that they hired shut the door on Mikey's foot. Then instead of attending to him, she starts to ask us if the little girl had made a puppet. She knew already that she made a puppet because she saw me helping her make it. I was pissed by this point because she is really supposed to be there to help me. She is only 17, so therefor she cannot be left with the children alone!! So I take Mikey who is turning red, and screaming at the top of his lungs to the kitchen. I wipe his face off because he kept smearing his spit and tears all over his face and hands. I gave him some water, and he finally settled down. But get this..when the chick pulls back the curtain to the kitchen Mikey sees her and starts to scream and cry all over again. I mean big tears. He doesn't like her. Then instead of watching the remaining kids who are now running all over the place, she is fiddling with her IPOD. She started to play the "Cha Cha Slide". I'm like WTF..But you should have seen Mikey. He was sitting on top of the freezer, and he started to dance. He had rhythm! It was the cutest thing. I think I've found my special connection with Mikey. I have been observing Mikey, and I'm not sure if he is really autistic. He definitely has some social issues because he doesn't play with the other kids. Although he is totally into himself he understands the world around him somewhat. This I know for a fact when he saw that girl..."AAAAHHHHHH." Mikey...

I'm sure everyone
Who has a deep penchant to become
A great communicator
Have all sat in seats like ours
And felt the butterflies inside their stomachs
Flutter and fly around
They've felt a heart that feels to be beating so hard
That us nervous people are convinced that is audibly loud

It's almost like a thrill
A roller coaster of emotions
That can be hard to control
The deciding factor
Is will you or I let trepidation take hold?
........And cause you
Stumble over all of your words
Will you use filler words like..
Like or um?
Or will you take charge
Like firing a gun?

Nervousness is natural
But it is when it takes over
That's when it can't go unnoticed
You shake and shiver
As you struggle to enunciate each syllable
Your hands shake, and your legs wobble
You think everyone is laughing at you
But in all actuality they are probably
Just as scared as you..

I say just jump in
Either you will sink or you will swim
A cliche' I know
But what would life be..without them
They are true.,
Yet just slightly over used
Every time I have to speak now
I am going to try to remember my words
And take many, many deep breaths
Then suck it up..
And do what I gotta do..

Untitled

I know that struggles don't last long
I know that one day
Pain experienced
Will be memories in the present
And just something bad
That happened a long time ago
That was designed to teach "us" lessons
So that if we ever were tested again
We would already know the answers
To the questions asked..

That little voice
Named intuition
I often ignore
It always steers me right
And yet I rarely pay attention
To signs and clues from the universe
When I don't listen
I always get myself into trouble
When I could have avoided it
I travel through the tempest
I walk over fire..
I get burned
I find solace knowing that
Right sometimes is seen as wrong
And next time maybe I can save myself
From being hurt
If I just pay attention to the signs
Sent to me from Mother Earth...

Wed. Post

When I was comin' up in school
I ain’t care..
When I went there..
I just went to look good..
Going to class was somethin' dat I
ain’t get into
I had to wake up too early in da mornin'
School was interruptin’ my dreams
I started skippin’ school wit my mama’s
permission in the 3rd grade
She would leave me home alone sometimes
wit my lil brother
I would make us noodles and ham sandwiches
and grape kool-aid.
And when she got home at night
she would tell me
Dat I was goin to school da next day
said she was helpin' me
Commit a crime
it was called truancy
But I can’t remember one week
where I ain’t skip at least one day
So somehow I made it through
and graduated
Class of 1998

I wasn’t alone walkin' across dat stage
I had somethin’ hidin' underneath
My graduation gown
I was pregnant wit..
My boyfriend’s child
at 18 years old..
I was finna be somebody’s mommy
and I really ain’t have no idea what to do
My baby’s father wasn’t bout nothin'
….when I went to him
About da matters of our child
he dissed me
Sayin’ dat there ain’t no way it’s his
callin' me all types of whores
Sayin’ dat I f*ed his boys
and he was ghost…
I never heard from him again
from dat day on..
It was just my baby and me..

I moved from my mama’s house
to da projects called Highland South
I got me some food stamps
and braided hair
So I could stay home
and not have to pay no daycare
My mama would watch lil man
when I wanted to run da streets
She would tell me I bet not come get him
if I was out there drinkin
Which I was…
often enough I would stumble home
Not knowin who I had just slept wit
not knowin if I had used protection
Prayin’ when I woke up
that I ain’t get HIV
I wasn’t no slouch though
I was getting’ paid for what I was doing
Had them payin’ all my bills
and I wasn’t doing nothin’
But openin’ my legs
and givin’ a lil bit of *you fill in the blank*

I had to put food on da table
and keep da lights on
My lil man stayed fresh
and you already know
Dat I was flyy
I ain’t have no real job
But somehow we always got by
until one day..
Bullets flew through my door..
apt 132 just got shot up..
I was caught in the line of da fire
I got shot in da chest and in da face
I must of blanked out for a minute
cuz I ain’t hear nothin’ else
Then I remember looking up
at a woman standin’ over me
Sayin’ dis is payback
for F*ing wit her babies daddy
She said she hoped dat I died
and if I didn’t she would be back
If I told anyone bout what just had happened

My lil boy was at my mama’s house
at da time
I was on da floor dying
straight up losing my life
All I could think of was my lil boy
who would grow up with no parents
Cuz I would be dead
and his daddy don’t care
All cuz I ain’t take the time out
to do what I should have done
Cuz of not handlin my business
when I should….I kept me and my baby in the hood
Another ghetto tragedy
they see me as another chicken head
Who ain’t nothin’ but dead..

**This whole broken english, ebonics, a.a. vernacular..whatever you like to call it..Is hard to write..especially if you didn't start writing a particular piece in that "fashion". So I may not be consistent. I really could care less at this point.***

A girl...

I am here
So I question my existence
I am an outsider
In a world that says
You have to belong
I wonder..
Why they are so worried about me
Because I have no concern
With myself..when I look
In the mirror..I hardly
Recognize my gaunt face
I am filled with self hate
Burning with rage

I don't like to answer questions
About why I dress
The way that I do
People always try
To figure me out
They just stare
Is that a boy
Who's confused..
And convinced that he's a female?
It's an instant reminder
That I don't fit into
"Normal" peoples ideologies
Because I am a 16 year old boy
Who wants to be a girl
I wear eyeliner
And I polish my nails and my toes
I dress up in my moms
Skinny jeans when she leaves
And I practice strutting in her pumps
I pretend I have hips
And two humps on my chest
By putting on her bra
And stuffing it with socks
She just figures..
Wearing eyeliner and polishing my nails
Is just a stage..
But she has never caught me
Dressing up in HER clothes
I wonder what she would think of me
If she knew I didn't want to be a boy?

I have no friends
I am a social outcast
As I walk down the hallways
Of my current life
All of my peers laugh
Because they don't understand
But I have a plan..
And a goodbye note
To all of the people
Who could have loved me
Whether I was a boy or girl
I am locked inside of a cage
Where I'm afraid to be me
I am suicidal
And I wish to die
So I can be set free
I have a rope
I will now hang myself
From a tree
In the front of my high school
In my mothers favorite outfit
wife beater.pumps.and skinny jeans
They will forever remember me
And think twice about taunting
Someone..
Who's sexuality..
They don't quite understand..
I am the poster child now
For boys who really are...
Girls

Who knows if
I will be accepted
Into the kingdom..
Who is ruled by God
Because I committed
The worst sin of all
I took my own life
Not abruptly though
I gave it a lot of thought
I was born this way
It wasn't something I was taught
And the circumstances
Of the world..
And their perfect ideologies
I was before my time
And now it's time for me to rest
Whether in heaven or in hell
I finally get to be..
A girl..

i am extremely tired. i have no idea if what i just wrote is coherent. I just needed to get it out..and i could have saved it as a draft, yes... but i'm starting to collect those, and like cereal that has been in my cabinet for 3 weeks..it's old so I can't use it.

Monday Post!

My husband is gone
For the 4th year in a row
Sure he gets time off
But that's for maybe a month
Then hes back overseas
See he is a Marine
And he's over there fighting
For America the land of the free
Just to make money
To send home to me

We have a son
Jameson
Because his name is James
And that is his son
He looks just like him
Wants to be like daddy
When he grows up
He already is fascinated by guns
But I don't want him to follow
In his fathers footsteps
And leave his wife alone
With his kid
To go fight in a war
That no one will know
Why it started
And when it may end
Just to pay the bills
Leaving behind his wife and kids

Sure we get phone calls
Every week
Daddy's emails helped
Him learn to read
He loves to talk to daddy
About what goes on in war
I try to tell Jameson
That war is a sensitive subject
That shouldn't be talked about
But he tries to convince me
That he is just preparing himself
To be just like his daddy
Getting ready now..
To go to war
But not before
He goes to basic training
To become an official Marine

My stomach hurts
When he brings becoming
A Marine up
Because I don't want my baby
To be out there
Getting shot at
And dodging bombs
I already have to worry
About my husband
Every night..
Not only do I pray for him
But I pray for Jameson
To forget his future dream
Maybe my husband
Can talk him out of it
When he comes home..
From this war
That took him away from us
*******************************

i am not easily guided
when i do not
ask to be led
i am stubborn
i like things my way

but heaven forbid
that i haven't a clue
i will call
the people i "talk" to most
and ask them
what shall i do?
i find it somewhat hard
to make a decision
without others input

if i plan on
being known
for what i do best
that means exposing
my flo..
further than here
and further than my notebooks
i will have to be edited
line breaks broke
someone else will HAVE
to give their input
altering my "babies"
and changing my works

i will have to come out
share my most important parts
expose the world
to my beating heart
my memoirs..
and my most intimate thoughts
breaking down the stigma
further than here
"Poetry Noir"
may be ready
but I don't know about me...

**************************************

So..I am going to school!!

I'm taking 18 credit hours..don't ask me why..but I am..I go to school everyday which I'm not too happy about..Gas is high, and the mileage is killing my truck...But nonetheless I am happy that I am getting closer to graduating. I have 12 more classes left..and however long it takes. I will finish!! I don't have any math this semester so I should be good.

Aesthetics
Writing for Digital Media
Research Methods
Writing for Mass media
Media and Culture
Media Studies....

A whole lot of writing..

I don't have any books so here is my plan. I hope it works until I get them or what not. I need to find a buddy. I'm guessing probably a boy. Girls hate too much.."Bitch please..fail".. I will convince him that I will do all of the reading and fill him in with great detail. But I need to be able to pick out the lazy boy who doesn't care. So wish me luck!! I don't have a plan B..this is all I got.

Baby Boy- My Friday Post

Baby Boy..This is one of my favorite African American Movies for so many reasons. John Singleton really did his thing with this one. It told the truth about so many boys..that are still babies. Out there planting seeds, that they aren't ready to help water. It opened my eyes to "ghetto" love. I have never dated a thug. So I don't know if I'm missing anything, but this movie gave me a feel of what that would be like. He would always be "running" around on me.. Even though I wouldn't classify Jody *Tyrese* as a thug. He was just "hood" I guess. Cali hood....ya'll know Californians are on some other ish. Basically all of my family lives there so I know. Anyway, I'm going to try to describe my favorite scenes... I can't remember the baby's momma name *Tayari* is her real name, but she was the mother of Jodys son. Her and Jody had just got done fighting, and she was saying she hates him..this and that. She ran down the stairs and told him she hated him in his face. He took her upstairs..and threw her on the bed, and they had sex. Then he said something like I know you gonna go cook them tacos. And she was like yep, Im'a cook them tacos, I'ma clean up. Then..when Ving Rhames had Jodys mama in her room hopping around the room in some kinda sex position that I've never seen. And Jody was in the other room listening. That ish was funny... The scene that I didn't like seeing..was when Jody took *Tayari* to the abortion clinic..And she was laying in the bed hurting, and he asked to use the car..WTF? Anyway..What is your favorite scene or part of "Baby Boy"???

......

No one is perfect
There is no such thing
It's only imaginary
It's only a dream
There will always be people
Who are handicapped
Who have stretch marks
Who are cross eyed
Who stutter every word
There will always be people
Who are bald
People that starve
Themselves on purpose
Who are suffering from something
They are unsure of
There will always be people
Who will cut themselves
Just to see blood flow
There will always be people
Who need help..
Out in this imperfect world

But does this mean
That the imperfect person
Doesn't deserve to experience love
Just because the perfect world
Seems them as all wrong?

08..someday..08

So I guess my class is behaving better. But everyday when I come in *Mikey* the boy who is autistic and his parents won't accept it..is shitty..I mean I can smell it when I walk into the door. Today I was designated to change his pull up. I did it..and it brought back memories when I had a co-op job as an asst. teacher at a special needs school..and the teachers made me change all of their diapers. But I was 17!! And these kids didn't have half of the sense that Mikey has..Mikeys wasn't watery, so it wasn't that bad. I talked to his father, about potty training him. Tomorrow he's sending changes of clothes and underwear. I'm gonna try to work with him. Even though I don't know how to potty train a lil boy. I asked his father if they stand up or sit down. He laughed and said they can do both. So we are going to see what I can do w/ lil Mikey. He is so cute though ya'll. He's mixed white and spanish. He has big cheeks and I squeeze em. I try to make him smile, after I got over the initial fear of me not being able to control him. He still likes to spin around in the middle of the floor, but as long as he's not eating inedible items and not hurting himself then hes fine. He said hi to me the day before yesterday. I thought it was sweet. I'm thinking maybe he does like me a lil bit. We'll see.

In a world of my own
I spin
I turn
People yell at me
And I don't know why
I am silent
But I scream
From the inside
And no one
Hears me cry

I am trying to break through
But no one has the patients
To deal with
The issues placed before me
They all run away...
With a headache..
With a head that is shaking..
Praying that someone
Can reach me
But it's not them..

Until then
I am a boy
With spinning dreams
Waiting for someone
To wake me up
From this haze
That hangs over my world
And turn the volume up
On my screams
On blast
Because I am here
I'm just waiting on
Someone to find me...
And grab my hand
Pulling me out of this hole
That my parents
Refuse to believe
I have fallen into
They won't admit
That I'm autistic
Instead they view me
As their perfect little boy...

*****************************************
Words are stronger than actions
Checks pay the bills
But attitudes kill
And that's the truth
Ya dig?

How can someone love
A person they don't deserve
How can someone love
A person who they throw in the dirt
How can someone love
A person they can't stand
It's impossible..
I raise my right hand
To testify to that
I'm for real

Love is more than action
It's the words that go along
Words are written into stone
Sometimes actions get forgotten
But once you write something down
It's there forever
And it's not hard
For it to be easily found
All because people confuse
Love with actions
And completley forget
About actions that compliment words

Love is something
I don't give up on easily
But once I realize
That I'm being abused
I hit the door..
Because I'm too flyy
To be sporting anyones bruise
Just because they got mad
Confusing love...
With nothing but actions
But the words..
That go along with love
Have to always
Match actions....
Or it ain't really love

***************************

..

I am so scared
To even date
Because every time a dude
Even looks at me
I question if he's gay?
Does he hang out in Midtown
Is he pretending to be straight
Would he take me to a gay bar
Would he say
That we were there
Just to grab a drink?
Because that's what I think
When every dude
Opens his mouth to speak..

Even if I do use a condom
If he's worthy of getting me
Into the sheets
The rubber might break
And all of his nut
Will be emptied
Into my stuff
Possibly making me sick
Forever
And then eventually
Killing me off...
Putting me down
For a never ending sleep

All because of what I thought
Was pleasure
But it was only
The devil planting
His evil seed
Because if I let my guard down
A man could just do this to me
Any day now..
Any moment...
I could find out he is gay
When all of this time
He had me fooled
Pretending to be straight

How bout this scenario
He stays w/ a dude
But he claims
That his roommate
Is just his friend
And pays rent
But come to find out
He was letting him
Beat his meat
All of this passed time
And now I am subjected
Possibly to HIV
And could be dying
Right now..
As I speak..

Nah I'm straight
On that D tip
Because I'll never know
If that penis
That is trying to get me
Has a strange discharge
Dripping from it
All because he might of
Stuck it in some nasty bitch
And may want
To contaminate me..next
This is what I think about
Every time a man..
Approaches me..
I'm thinking that he's sweet

*************************************

I have nothing to say
Yet I'm amazed
The thoughts seem
To fly by
Through my head
Quite fast...
Hauling ass..

I am ready
To finish what I started
The most important
Part of me...
I have yet to achieve
I just want
To finish school
It's the last piece to my puzzle
I'm in desperate need

I have dreams
That I will not share
Because haters can
Aim arrows
And knock them
Right out of mid air
I'll keep them to myself
So I won't get jinxed

So for my conclusion
I am miserable
At the moment
Because I just need to do
What I must
And that is finish school
I am so close
Yet so far
And every time
I'm held back
It leaves a scar
On my heart
Because I'm one step
Further behind..
Every semester I sit out
My time ticks by...

********************************

One Bad Bipolar Beauty..ahhhh ya'll thought I was gonna say Bitch!

So... Today was the first day of school. And OMG!! I don't think I've been stressed out by kids like this before. I've opened a can of worms. On my resume from a looonnngg time ago had that my major was special ed. Which it was..like umpteen years ago..lol. But not anymore! So when I was hired the director was excited that I had experience *I worked @ a special needs school before* and then was when I decided this ain't for me. She told me she had two special needs children. Ya'll when I get there..I spot about 6. I get there at nap time, and the special kids are running around. Turning on the water. Eating stuff that isn't edible. They wouldn't be still for nothing. Then trying to get them up for nap and having them sit on the circle was a task. It's like they don't understand. One little girl won't talk. I was trying to work with her, but it was hopeless for today. So after snack most of the kids clear out. Guess who I'm left with. About 8 boys..And half of them are on a space ship headed to a different planet. I'm like damnit. One kid is screaming *is special* about how he wants his mom. An autistic little boy *who's parents refuse to believe that anything is wrong w/ him..they think he'll grow out of it* It's not going to happen. I have no idea what to do w/ boys. Like I said I think they are innately bad, and born with attention spans of ants.

Then my job..they are breaking so many codes. They don't wash the sheets after nap time. EW. They don't have hot water. EW. I saw a teacher breaking hot dogs in half w/ her hands. No gloves. @ my old job we washed the sheets and blankets everyday, but I thought it was gross that we didn't wipe the mats down everyday.

I don't know.. baby girl won't be eating / drinking anything from there when and if she goes. She will have her own sleeping bag probably. She won't be sleeping on another kids germs and skin cells.

Other than me having no materials to do projects with, and I'm dealing with bored kids because they have no resources. Everything is great!

Pray for me and the speds'...

Aye...do ya'll remember any games that we used to play as kids..other than simon says, mother may I, red light green light, musical chairs? Ya'll got any suggestions?

Anyway.. Here we go..what I do best..

I am dizzy

Sometimes I miss a dose

Of you..the cure

I'm all screwed up

.....I'm lost

I'm tired of

Ingesting you into my stream

But if I don't

I'll turn from blue to green

And if I am green

And not blue

Then I'm dead..fa sho

My balance is on track

As you dissolve

Heading immediately to my brain

How can I possibly fall

When you are here

.....Doing your job

"Fixing me"

Just as long as I swallow you

With water every day

I'm cool..

I've felt it for myself

I refused to believe

In the beginning

Of my bipolar journey

What Dr. A said

That it would stop raining

One day..

And I would be able to

Soak in the sun rays

And experience true..happiness

She said positively

With a smile upon her face

She is right

I've felt it

And it is just what she said

Dryer..no longer wet

It sometimes drizzles, still

But that's why I work on myself

So much..

So I'll have the proper tools

To go along with my skills..

That I've acquired

To whether..another cliche'

another..storm

I don't hear voices

I don't start fights

Over random beef

With stupid girls

Who dream to be me

Even though I'm supposedly "crazy"

I never converse

With myself

I do not see shit

And I wear panties

In public

I keep my legs close

When I wear dresses and skirts

If I don't cover her up

She might catch a cold

I am not psychotic

I am only 3/4 of the way gone

.......If that..

I get happy..

Then I'm sad..

Depression is the worst

It hurts..

It hurts..

It hurts..

Bad..

I panic

I am anxious

This is the hardest to control

Because if you can't hide it

Damnit..it's bound to show

I'll cry..

When normally I hold it

......Deep deep inside

Of course..I explode

At totally inappropriate times

Dumping a very very heavy load

Tears dripping down my face

Turing my eyes blood shot red

*******************************

Freedom

Of

Information

Act

Is what Foia stands for

I ain't got nothing to do

With the government

But I tell it like it is

Uncensored

Like it or not

I got a hott mouth

To go along

W/ my bad body

I got my head on my shoulders

I wish one would

Try to knock

Off my block

I'll take my pistol

I'm about to

Get a permit for

Out my purse

And pop you off

That's the gansta girl

Coming out in me

Benny Ha Ha

Went through hood training

Now I'm a beast

And if you keep on playing

I will give you..

A special little treat

A gift from my best friend

Who I call heat..

**************************

I got jumped into a gang

In the 3rd grade

We didn't know nothing

About being G's

Except our color was blue

And we rep'd

The 6 point star

Our enemies

Were the vice lords

Who rep'd red

We were advised

To aim at their heads

With what guns

I don't know

They were imaginary

Invisible air

That's what happens

When little ones

Hang w/ older kids

Get into some other shit

That they've seen done

Thinking its alright

To pass on..

I know now

We couldn't have been serious

We had no artillery

We had no guns

How could we possibly

Get shit popped off?

We couldn't..even if we'd have tried

Absolutely not..

I was a child..

I still claim

To be a G

Just not in the streets

But in the poetry game

I'm a killer

I love the color blue

And that's a pretty star

But my third grade gang experience

Will be something I always look back at

And laugh..at that shit

Forever..hahahahahah..

**********************

Titles Why?

I am having a panic attack.

Argggh. I can't cope with not being able to control the circumstances that surround me.

I can't see my future be put on hold on second longer.

I keep getting lost because I'm always sent to a detour on this ride called life.

I know. Stronger. Stronger. Stronger I will be. But I'm tired of pumping iron. I'm ready to finish the fight.

Okay..Experience it with me.

There is not enough oxygen
Making it into my lungs
So I hyperventilate
Trying to breath slow
Because this feeling
Is really uncomfortable
I feel as if I'm going to
Pass out..

My chest hurts
Because I'm stressed
There is a pill
I can pop
But I don't want to take it
Because I'll quickly fall asleep
And I've got to go to work
Feeling melancholy
Trying to hide my somber mood

I feel like crying
I'm sure I need to
Before it comes out
At the wrong time
And I look like a fool
I just wish this pain
Would go away
Because anxiety attacks
Aren't something that
I usually go through
I'm trying to breathe now
But it's getting really hard
I feel like I need to go
Pass out

It will pass. I will be fine again. This is just a rough patch. It feels as if a elephant is sitting upon my chest. So people I will be back later. So holla... I needed to release this. Poetrynoir..is my therapy...

By: Lateef McLeod

I saw a really good movie today that made me cry on BET of all places.I finally can watch a movie after I messed up my movie roll due to my fear at the time. It was called Lackawanna Blues..and it had yet again an all star black cast. Macy Grey, the Black captain *shame I don't know her name* but she is on Law and Order, and Terrence Howard. The *captain* had a boarding house, and she took in this little boy because his momma and daddy weren't fit to take care of him in her eyes. She did what was best for him. But I can't imagine leaving my baby behind..so it brought tears to my eyes..Anyway the *captain* took in everyone she could.. I don't know if I would want a boarding house, but I do want to, definitely before I die have a non profit mental heath organization. It is a must...

I found this poem today on myspace on a disability advocacy page. I've heard about him before, but never took the time to read anything by him. But his name is Lateef McLeod, and is a writer from Oakland, CA who happens to have cerebral palsy. I think this poem is beautifully written..and basically made me swallow..
***when I copied and pasted it from myspace the line breaks were no more...but i think i broke it right..i hope so..if not..I apologize*

by: Lateef McLeod copyright 2007

Swallow
You say to me
And I really do try
Cuz I be wearing tight fits
Like Rocawear jeans, big Ekco shirts, Gap hoodies
And when I am really
GQ in tailor made suits
And drool does not go with a tailor made suit
You know I try to look suave 24 7
So there shouldn’t be a problem with me swallowing, right?
Well I have to remember to swallow
Every minute
Every hour
Every day
That means when I roll down the street
Swallow
Whenever I talk to someone
Swallow
When I exercise
Swallow
When I go to school
Swallow
Cuz I don’t want anyone to see me drool, especially you
You always say that it makes me look gross
And It is not my attention to gross you out
So I try to swallow like a mad man
I (swallow)
Try and (swallow)
Consciously do something
(swallow)
That everyone else
(swallow)
Does unconsciously
(swallow)
And you still
(swallow)
Can’t understand
(swallow) Why
(swallow)
Can’t I
(swallow)
Learn to swallow
(swallow)
All the time
(swallow) It is like
(swallow) To toss you a tennis ball
(swallow)
Telling you
(swallow)
To throw it
(swallow)
The air and catch it
(swallow)
Every 15 seconds
(swallow)
And yell at you
(swallow)
When you drop the ball
Swallow
Just swallow
Come on and swallow
You know you want to

http://www.myspace.com/sinsinvalid

So the writers on this website are mostly all physically disabled. Where as when it is "mental" people can't see it, and there for have a hard time understanding. I know from wanting to be a special ed teacher that people with any type of disability doesn't want to be treated any different. No one wants to be pitied.

People kill me when and if they find out that I have bipolar. "Fallon it doesn't seem like it. Nu-uh." I am usually my jovial self. But the people who contribute to sinsinvalid basically have no choice. They where a badge everyday. That is heroic.