For James

Black History Month swag

NIGGER

I AM the nigger.

Singer of songs,

Dancer. . .

Softer than fluff of cotton. . .

Harder than dark earth

Roads beaten in the sun

By the bare feet of slaves. . .

Foam of teeth. . . breaking crash of laughter. . .

Red love of the blood of woman,

White love of the tumbling pickaninnies. . .

Lazy love of the banjo thrum. . .

Sweated and driven for the harvest-wage,

Loud laughter with hands like hams,

Fists toughened on the handles,

Smiling the slumber dreams of old jungles,

Crazy as the sun and dew and dripping, heaving life

     of the jungle,

Brooding and muttering with memories of shackles:

               I am the nigger.

               Look at me.

               I am the nigger.

When you are a Nigger—James Baldwin 

Capture

The Tree Shaker
Can cast the breath
From the lungs
Of whomever she chooses
And from that void
She draws the power
To send the devil down
Way past the fire

into a sweet smelling nothing

She is full of whims
And owns not a thing but her teeth and her walk

She is the Root Killer
The Dirt Bender
The Sun Eater
And she mothers a band
That has lost all things
and who are thus
Completely free

The Branch Teaser drinks
Dreams as she swings
Through the trees
And fills her belly with hazy stares and half thought smiles

The leaf eater is hard to hold
Soft as feathers, too big to grasp, and too
Long for average fingers
She walks on fists
With a slight flutter
More menacing that a butterfly
And less abrasive that a plane
She works through vengeance
And heartbreak
Prefers the smell of widows
And keeps fit coursing through the calves
Of runaway brides


She is annoyed by the cries of a battered woman
for that sound
draws blood from her eyes
making it hard for the
Rain Kisser to move about
Independently



I speak of course
Of the First, the True, The Woman
Who gave birth to man
The unspoken myth
Unforgiven and unsoiled
Feared, downtrodden, and hated
She is the woman we are not supposed to be
And yet can not deny

And....She's still guilty

In November of 2008 Meredith Kercher was murdered. Amanda Knox was held to be partically responsible for that murder. Knox’s trial began January 16, 2009. The prosecution moved forward with what is arguably a lot of circumstantial evidence (meaning it’s not conclusive that she is guilty it also doesn’t conclusively suggest she is innocent). Amanda lied to the police several times. Amanda admitted to being in the house and hearing Meredith Kercher scream. Amanda’s alibi (her boyfriend) would not corroborate her story. Amanda’s DNA was found on a potential murder weapon. Amanda’s DNA was found on an article from Meredith’s clothing. Amanda purposely and falsely implicated Patrick Diya Lumumba knowing full well that he did not commit the crime (Lumumba sued her for defamation and won a 40 euros judgment. . which is good since he spent 2 weeks in jail away from his wife and child because of her lies). Add to this the fact that she had not one but two attorneys and I’m not convinced her trial was unfair. It is argued that the juries preconceived notions of Amanda Knox lead them to a vindictive and erroneous verdict. Americans are trying to say that Italian juries were prejudiced in this instance. . .right. . .because we have completely removed prejudice from our criminal justice system. Maybe we should write a manual and send copies to Italy. I'm sure they could benefit from our evolved wisdom. Post racial Age of Obama Ho!

Some people believe that Italy errs in not sequestering their juries. I would beg to differ. For nearly a year these people would have been away from work, church, loved ones, and extracurricular actives. That is slightly barbaric and an unreasonable compromise in the interest of justice in modernity. Additionally this kind of isolation would make them even less likely to show up everyday with a clear mind. Amanda Knox had a trial that was fair by Italian standards. Last time I checked Italy was still a first world country and a willing ally of the United States. We have no clothes on yet we mock the emperor for his nudity.

American judicial history highlights

> unarmed men are shot and killed by law enforcement (reference: Amadou Diallo, Ousmane Zongo, Sean Bell) and were those same law enforcement officials are rarely held legally accountable.

>There was actual real time video footage of the police brutality perpetrated against Rodney King and yet only two of the officers involved were convicted.

>We have made an art form of exonerating former death row inmates (sometimes posthumously) and usually after some third party organization has taken the initiative to actually review the DNA evidence. Please see these reports by the innocence project (http://www.innocenceproject.org/news/Newsletters.php). Were there petitions signed when they were convicted with weak eye-witness identifications? Did we raise the trumpets when the prosecution failed to test DNA evidence? Were we ready to ride into battle for these fathers, brothers, uncles and sons who were torn from their families and erroneous convicted by juries of their peers? No of course not. They don’t look like the wealthy girl next door For some more information check out the Northwestern Center on wrongful convictions ( http://www.law.northwestern.edu/cwc/ ), The Mid-Atlantic innocence project ( http://www.exonerate.org/facts/ ), Truth in Justice ( http://truthinjustice.org/ ) , for summaries of over 950 U.S. wrongful convictions check out this link ( http://www.victimsofthestate.org/ ).

>Regina Kelley v. John Paschall ( http://www.aclu.org/drug-law-reform/aclu-charges-racial-discrimination-second-texas-drug-bust-scandal ) is a lawsuit that describes the abuse of a Texas narcotics squad that conducted racially motivated drug sweeps for more than 15 years in Hearne Texas. The task force frequently arrested innocent people and forced them to take pleas or face jail time all so they could pad their conviction numbers and receive increased federal funding. Where was the moral indignation and the battle cry for fairness at this injustice happening within our own borders? Where were the posters? Where was CNN and Fox news? Why didn’t we hear from the victims’ mothers and grandmothers after their sentences were handed down. Give me a break. We didn’t hear about it because these people were poor and the poor get far less justice in the country than the rich.

 We have such fresh dancing skeletons in our closet. . . ghosts that will not even begin to think about to resting their heavy bones until every person who went to Emmett Till’s funeral is 2 generations dead. So yea. . .I don't have the strength or the audacity judge the Italian judicial process. Maybe I can offer some points of improvement but I offer them as suggestions not as condemnation. I’m too worried about where we will get enough justice laced penicillin to address the sickness in our own system.

Oh the Lesbians

But I fell on the floor laughing



I mean if you have a lesbian friend go ahead and show her this and she too will see flashes of her life coming before her eyes.

GUEST POET 

KG

Tlaltecuhtli

the serpent gods wore feathers

and tumbled from the dawn,

took me from the waters,

and foot to foot, was drawn.

this, before creation,

with life still being nursed;

before there could be beauty,

they had to kill me first.

now half of me, the earth;

the other turned to sky;

in this end, rebirth;

the rest they left to die.

the serpent gods made flowers;

and of my flesh, the fields;

caves descending from my stare,

and lips the river yields.

but I survived the great divide;

the final battle, won;

escaped the mouth of madness,

and swallowed whole the sun.

the world then dark and chaos;

in dark, the darkness sieved;

that darkness hid the monster;

and in that dark, I lived.

then the serpents folded;

and drew a compromise;

a hundred years be golden;

a hundred human lives.

be calm before the monster;

that is this world, in parts;

the monster will lay sleeping on

its feast of bloody hearts.

The One

She is a lioness

Bathed in the night

Wrapped in a black sun

She smiles like a promise

And laughs like tomorrow

Might never come.

She has the strength of years

Of freedom

She stands with the grace

Of centuries of fight

And she speaks with the voices

Of the thousands lost at sea

She really sees me

Her eyes set deep in onyx

She keeps me floating

When I’m drowning in feelings

Of terror and loathing

She pulls me up with her

Into the clouds

And we lay among giants

Wanting for nothing

She is breath to me

And I take her in and let her go

To see how far she’ll fly

Before she comes back

To tell me about the journey

Boarderline

“Lay my head on the railroad line. Train come along; pacify my mind. ”

― Toni Morrison, Beloved

                             I have been really focused lately on all the things that I don’t have. 

I keep thinking about how Lupus

has robbed me of things I should have. Every time my friends reach normal milestones I look at their lives and while I am happy for them I also fall into despair for myself because I do not fit the imagine of who I thought I would be at this point in my life.

Part of the image I have of my self was formed by my on thoughts and desires but also the hopes and dreams of the elders around me.  I don’t want to disappoint those who have worked and sacrificed for me. I have a deep sense of duty that runs through my veins and wakes me up in the morning.

Now I’m at a point where I have to compare who I thought I was going to be, from the person I am, from the person I want to be. At this point in my life. My life. Right here right now. After thinking about it I finally thought what have I lost? What was I promised?

The answer---absolutely nothing. I wasn’t born to wealth. I am not an heir. I worked damned hard for everything I have and I’ll continue to work for everything I ever get. A lot of luck is involved in success and successful people should very well realize that. If they don’t they are overly self indulged and foolish. Luck is health. Luck is working limbs. Luck is sight and the ability to walk. Luck is good nutrition and good schools. Some of us are born more lucky than others.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that the image I had for my life is not going to come to fruition in exactly the manner I thought it would. I am now at a crossroads.

 Do I go forth with no image for my future or do I make new plans.

 I’ve decided that I can make vague plans and work towards reaching them. I can have plans but I don’t have to be shackled to the end results. I no longer have to fit a mold of my own making. I reach for a dream that changes and conforms to my situation. I can be proud of any progress I make and I can remain humble in the process. Lupus has given me an abundant amount of humility, but it has also taught me a lot about persistence. I’ll keep persisting. I’ll keep trying. I’ll wake up every day and I’ll take one breath after another.