Im Doin NaNoWriMo Baby!!!

On another note, I have joined the NaNoWriMo competition. THat's right, baby, 50,000 words in 30 days or bust. I have no idea what the topic of my novel will be, the plot, the characters, nothin. I am following the rules and starting with a blank slate. I will be posting the story at the NaNoWriMo portion of the Discover Kai site. Thats rite, another link. The whole point of this competition is to just write, not think about, not organize it, just write as I may. Please check in and see if I am following a clear line of conciousness, going somewhere, or straying off into left field....

Missed Halloween

Today is Halloween. I am good with Halloween. Since I am easily terrified by everything bizarre or weird, I have a simple solution. Halloween is eat candy, make cupcakes, dress up cute and enjoy yourself day. Nothin more. My girls and I have a good time, cooking, dancing, ladying it up. Then hubby takes them to a harvest festival.

But this year, working 75 hours weeks, I completely forgot today was Halloween. I did. And, even worse, I dont' feel that bad about it. I can easily make it up, and the girls will enjoy cooking and dancing, like the always do. I've trained them well. The goul and ghots, goblin, trick or treat stuff, they won't miss, cause they never had it anyway. So I got a miss a holiday pass on this one. Thankfully they will never know the difference. They will attend their festival, eat candy, and go to sleep in comfort, not aware that mommy completely dropped the ball....

Damaged Goods

I wonder why the lastest incident always brings up the first. I know, that wasn't very clear. I guess I was referring to a quote Valerie Wilson Wesley's character, Tamara Hayle, often quoted. The last death always brings up the first. For me, lately, that last painful event is taking me down memory lane, to some painful child hood stuff. I was trying to flesh out Lani's character and the pain she encountered that caused her to search for a better life. She is the wife of the main character in Life-The Series. So, while I was trying to feel her pain, I tapped into a whole terrible childhood experience that I had thought was forgotten. It came back crystal clear, like watching a horror flick. And I didn't know what to do with it, because it is one of the many "we dont talk about them now that we are righteous" incidents from the past.

I posted a poem about it named Don't Say a Word. To tell you the truth, I felt a lot better after publishing the poem, as if the pain of it all was released. But it is incredible, recalling my past through adult eyes. I can't imagine some of the situations. I'm not tryin to pass judgement and I understand that each person is different, but what were my parents thinking. Really!! I mean, there are so many situations that I couldn't even imagine exposing my kids to, yet, there I was, right in the thick of things. Somehow, these two people created in me a sense of responsibility and protection that neither of them really practiced. Or was it just the life experiences and the pain itself, that has put in place those borders. I guess I'll never know.

One thing I know for certain, I was placed in many situations where adults view the child sadly, but subsequently writes him/her off. Damaged becuase of circumstances. He/she will never be able to make it because their mother...........Instead I grew strong, clear, more resolute, a little less gullible. So don't write kids off so easily, just because their parents are foolish or worse. You may be the one difference, the light in the mist, enabling them to tear through the tangled paths their parents weaved, into clarity and an uncomplicated existence....

WIRE update (of course)

Well, first things first, I caught the Wire tonight. The show is still phenomenal, but I was relieved that Maestro's character got off the hook. I just didn't want to see the system chew up another child on technicalities. Also, I find Cuttie's character annoying. I always have, but could never figure out why until tonight. This guy is supposed to be native B-Mo, so the drawn out awkward ebonics just is not working. It actually got worse this year, or he has more speaking parts, I can't tell. he has the righteous look, so keep around the ex con dogooder persona, just limit his speaking roles - please!! he distracted me so much, I went to refill on snacks during his scenes, the first time in two years I have left the couch during an episode. Of course, for those Wire fans in the know, I took snack and bathroom breaks quite often during season 2......

I guess Omar has finally been dethroned. Stripped of his mystique, even if he gets out of this one alive. Im stilla fan, although my mental love affair with Stringer Bell makes him a psuedo enemy. But I am rooting for him to take down Marlo. And, are we going to get a glimpse of Avon this season? I am already nostalgic for the old crew, complete with WeeBay asking for more horseradish......but those days are past, huh?

The Dominican Shop

In 2000 a NY girlfriend strutted into the room, hair sparkling and shiny, body for days. This was someone who was always stylish and kept the latest cut, but her hair quality, like many of us, was dull and broken. Of course sistahs flocked to her like flies to honey.

"I discovered this cute litte Dominican shop," she responded. Huh? No, no way. The Beuty SHop is part of our culture, our chance to tap into all different types of Black women. I couldn't give that up to another culture!! Now, admittedly, I hated my current shop. Mean ass folks, always gossiping, eye rolling, snapping heads or, worse, complete indifference as if anyone cute was nonexistent. I didn't want my hair fried, freeze curled in an unnatural form, was sick of the constant fight to not get another trim, no I don't want hte latest funky cut, hell no, I am not cutting my hair to put in weave. I was in the standard back woman hair salon hell. Floatin from shop to shop, hairdresser to hairdresser. Scabs on scalp from leaving the perm to cook. It just went on and on. At some shops. Others were absolutely perfect, a breath of fresh air, until the proprieter refused to pay the staff on time. THen I would schedule apporintments only to find my stylist and her entire crew fires, "no forwarding number provided."

So, I stepped out on my culture. Tip toed over to the Hair Cuttery, cause it looked simple and easy. It was. FOund a sister who had the midas touch, standard wash and set under 50. Can't beat it.

By complete coincidence a coworker mentioned the same shop my girldfriend told me about years ago. On a whim I joined her. The Dominican sisters were professional, sweet, talking amongst themselves, but never cattily targeting clients. These women oozed sexuality and confidence, like we did in our younger days, before assimilation demanded that we cut off and pack away anything remotely suggestive. They washed, conditioned, roller set then blow dries my short bob. I freaked, how much heat were they going to use. But every women in that shop had healthy, bouncy hair. So I sat still and waited to see what the fuss was about. I quickly found out.

1: My hair has never felt so light in my life
2: My hair has held up four days later, without a dandruff flake, uncommon for my dry scalp
3: My hair looked good and I felt great
4: Men were clocking when I left the shop
5: Men were clockin when I left the shop and, most importantly,
6: Men were clockin when I left the shop

So, the cultural thing tied to the beauty shop has been unwound, untangled and cut in 20 different placed. I am free of it. So so sorry, my girls won't have th shop expereince of my child hood. But I took them to the Dominican shop today, and they walked out believing, and behaving like queens, their natural brown beauty affirmed by all the spectacular love and support they received. Their hair bounced all over their head while, to the entertainment of the entire shop, the swung their hair with every exagerated head turn. Without the help of chemicals. I didnt even have to request a little girl style, they hooked my babies up. Worth every penny......

Interested in the shop - send me an email, ID ing yourself, and I will give uo the name and address -

Baby Alcohol

My daughter's class took a trip to the National Zoo today and I volunteered to chaperone. With work, my writing, and other demands, she and I have limited one on one, girl time, so I thought it would be fun. And it was. I have done the Zoo chaperone thing a number of times, believe me, I have this thing down to a science.

Anyway, we boarded the bus to leave, twenty somethin exhausted children of every color black color with the exception of one child. Now, why would I mention that? Well, inevitably the baby girl chants and hand clapping began, which I am thrilled about. I took my daughter out of private school last year to try this new program, I want a great education and some well rounded socialization. 'Cuase my little girl's momma, me, was a foot stoppin, double dutch jumpin, jacks playin, sing song struttin little somethin.

Anyway, after going through the standards, Miss Mary Mack and Shame Shame Shame, two little girls busted into (Name) and (Name) sitting in a tree. Now if you don't know the song goes something like this :
Tina and Mike, sittin in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the baby in a baby carriage.

Now, I really don't want my daughter singin it all, but at least the order is consistent with my basic values, although its a bit much when you really think about it. But anyway, the two little girsl changed the song to:
First comes love. Then comes baby. Then comes baby drinking alcohol.

Huh?

Ok, so the first few times they sang it, I waited patiently for their parents, who were sitting next to them to say something. Nothin. Finally, the teacher interceded. Talked about the song and its level of inappropriateness. Parents faces remained blank.

Oh, where, where do I begin? Whats wrong with this picture, let's back up? If my momma wasn't there, yes, there was some awful stuff I would sing. I mean, at least they don't know Fruit Cock Tail yet, that was our elementary favorite. But in front of my mother. Oh NO!

So there is a boundary issue that has not been addressed and is seemingly unrecognizable. They were quite comfortable with their drunk baby chant, right in the seat next to their mothers.

Then, there is a definite loss of some steps in the revised song. Now, I know love and marriage , the idea, doesn't always happen, but is it wrong to try to drill that order into 5 year old girls, set a standard to achieve? And no, they don't need a marriage for the baby, but, Im just sayin. Its like when everyone blasted Brandy because of her fronted marriage. Uh, well, that's a bit different, I guess, but I can see why she tried to lie, keep a "good girl" image - fakin a marriage and basing a reality show on it is kinda sad though.

I don't know. The whole thing just had me confused. Got me thinkin about countin out pennies again, coughin up the 780 a month, just for kindergarten.....at least the Christian school will scare them into keepin the raunchy stuff undercover, right?

How Many Loves

How many loves does a person get in one life? Do we meet them all, or only if one relationship ends. I guess the first definition necessary is the concept of love. When I speak of love, Im talking about infatuation mixed with anticipation, adoration stirred in. Im talkin about mind spinnin, can't focus on nothin else, must breathe you, inhibit and anticipate you, love. Not the deeper, we been together, got your back down for whatever, boring or exciting, in it to win it love. There is a difference.

It would be a sad thing if we were only afforded that one time, teen young adult love. The one time of total consumption by the feeling because real life hasn't set it. I like to think that God bestows that love on the searching heart at the time in life it is necessary. That He determines we're ready, plants it on us, and watches what we do with the gift. (complete speculation, not biblically based. that would be research and Ive done enough of that today)

There are friends that tell me they have never been in love. I don't believe them. I know its not true. I watched them, in love, but torn, becuase love did not fit the form shaped by Hollywood, Disney and Mama's love stories. I witnessed love dismissed because of their inate inability to not forgive, not trust, not let God step in. Wouldn't it seem just too cruel, to exist on this desolate realm, and never experience the bursting wonder of emotion that is love.....

Sojournals Contributor

Guess what ya'll.......... I have been approved to be a contributing writer to The Sojournals, a wonderful site founded by Ms. Kelli Anderson. I am going to post articles about life, book reviews, things that make you go hmm.... I have quite a few examples, right, with all these kids. I am very excited!
Wish me luck, first post is tomorrow.

WHAT IS THE SOJOURNALS? The Sojournals, an e-mail newsletter and website is a guide for everyday people attempting to live more exciting lives. Our goal is to encourage everyone to have and create stimulating new experiences, through reading the discoveries of others, in particular your's truly (founder and Editor) Miss Kelli M. Anderson. If you want to know more visit The Sojournals.

MC Lyte

This morning I woke up with a rare blast from the past floating through my mind. It was the snippet from self destruction that I repeated ad nauseum as a teenager. "Funky freshed dressed to impress, ready to party....." Now, those of you in the know recognize the MC Lyte joint, the most classic phrase in the song, in my opinion anyway. I used to love MC Lyte. Lyte as a Rock played on my bedroom tape cassette over and over until the film snapped. It was required listening while we ladies prepared for whatever party or social function, preening to capture the attention of the bboy, hip hop lovin boys....

MC Lyte is still doin her thing. Not at the Queen Latifah level, but certainly still in the game. I was very disappointed when BET had its little ode to hip hop on the awards (was it last year?) and only let her spit a verse. Like she was an afterthought or something, instead of the very definition of b-girl for a generation that wasn't cutesy cutesy, but down for a people, African Bombada, lovin music girls. Baggy jeans, big gold hoop earrings, nameplate, your man's chain, if you had game and flava, stacked hair cut, etc...You know 'round the way girls - which we very much were. And knowing all the lyrics to Lyte was a prerequisite to stylin. Yeah, Salt n Peppa had their place too, as did Roxanne, but Lyte deserves a top spot.

So, I was boppin around hummin, "to get inside you paid a whole ten dollars..." Got to the metro this morning and, true story, Lyte was on the newspaper cover. To receive VHI honors. Its about damn time. So, this post is to MC Lyte, the original b-girl, who inspired flyness, uniqueness and rawness, without strippin and without compromise.....

Cherished Beginnings

So, I have published my first book of poetry. I am very excited. This decision is a result of outrage expressed over the volume of poetry lingering on my blog. I decided that I am still not going for making a profit, rather I would take the opportunity to publish another work, placing my grand number of published works at .....3. What an accomplishment! Oh, you scoffin at my number? Let me qualify it, three in just under 6 months, I don't think thats bad at all. I thought a deal was going through with my novel series, but it just didnt work out. I am going to have to put some other things in the works for that series, it is my baby.

So, Discover Kai Poetry Cherished Beginnings, will basically be all of my first posts to the site. I am going to sell it for free, (just recoup shipping and handling) and make it downloadable. the idea is to get it out there, let it spread.... I hope its enjoyed.

Yesterday, HBO starved us Wire addicted folks. Well, not all of us, just the "more honest" ones, cause, from what I am hearing, it is being bootlegged like crazy. I have to stop folks in midsentence from revealing the entire season. Amazing. I will plod along with HBO, take my Wire in doses, and devour the season this winter after the conclusion.... Sure hope they keep showing Bodi, he is the embodiment of evey corner slinger we ever liked. Yes, I grew up in the inner city, and corner slingers were ex classmates and actually human beings that we still liked, had crushes on, flirted with, etc....
Not condoning, just sayin....

(Since I'm posting from work, Bodi's picture and book cover will be added later :))

Sexy Smart Black Men

I discovered a past associate who has a similar path in this writing thing. Talking to him opens miles of imagination for me, someone who is consumed by the old testiment, sci fi, and black issues - a writing soul mate. In this midst of our discussion he mentioned Mos Def, and the standard chill went thru me. He smiled, but was caught by surprise. I couldn't help it ya'll, he brings out the groupie in me. Which raises the question, why do we find Mos Def so attractive?

I think it is one of the indescribable things, similar to Pharrell, or Hill Harper, Eric Michael Dyson. It is not a physical thing, although Mos Def's entire appearance is equally appeasing to me. But I believe that we all have a belief in the ability of Black men to transcend the commoness, to display their brilliance and intuitiveness, while still keeping it real, gully, sexy. When you spot it, the Black man that has accepted the pursuit of knowledge with want and desire, is not afraid to educate and play abit, there is something so eternally sexy about that.....its like, the first taste of dark chocalate after a weeklong long starvation (I fast sometimes ya'll). So sweet and bitter, chills flow through the mouth, sweet floods the tongue, your head swoons temporary, mouth waters at anticipation of more. Yeah, that's what Mos Def does. Idris Elba. Terrance Howard. Common. Common. Common. Raheem Devaughn. John Legend. Morris Chestnut. Morris Chestnut. Talib Kwali (sp?). Thank God, there is more than one, a few more I could list ( I can't think of the brotha's from Soul Food the movie - that played Lem), some I can't even think of right now, cause Mos Def has clogged up the cognitive thought line - makes me think of the poem Brother, Damn.......Feel free to let me know who has that effect on you (LOL)

High School Memories

I woke up this morning, reminscing on high school. It's because I am working on Stream in the Desert and recalling all type of highschool situations to tap into some creative emotion. Man, the sight of a fine boy, a simple hug a wink...ooooh, emotions were so easy then. I had a serious crush on two boys - but I will never admit who they were, and no, my ex Wilson folks, its not who you think. So anyway, today is a day of reminscing on love, easiness, simplicity, youth. I never realized that I would be at a point, when the memory of those would bring comfort. But you are formed by those relationships, and they still matter. So, to my class of 91 at Wilson Magnet High, I love ya'll man.....

Rules of Engagement

What are the rules of dating, engaging, interacting with that opposite sex? And how do we teach them to our little girls. This has been a big issue over the last two weeks as I have been the listening ear to one of my friends tumultuous relationships. It is the inspiration for rejected happiness - a result of continuous conversations about how my friend doesn't feel happy, the realtionship doesn't create happiness, he can't maintain happiness, etc...happiness, in that context, just seems so fleeting.

My girlfriend told me something yesterday, in response to my lecture about making her man wait, man up, step forward and pursue - rather than being babyed ad nauseum. She said, "my mother never told me anything about relationships.....I thought you kept a man by fulfilling his every need." That amazed me. That is not our call. Now don't get me wrong, when you want to take care of your man, there is nothin wrong with it. But when the relationship is completely one sided, you are giving and taking care of, and he is just taking, then something is wrong. My friend gave over and beyond. But, is it all his fault for being a taker or are we somewhat to blame, for enabling the dependant person, making him worse.....

I don't know - I don't have any answers. I watch hip hop videos and watch my mommas define their success by how much cha cha was dispensed for that bling and my heart hurts. I witness my girlfriend go thru this painful separation, holding on to an idea of a relationship, and my heart hurts. I try to even begin to explain the process of self preservation while exploring love to nieces, young girlfriends, daughters, and my heart hurts. Where do I begin?

Why Love?

My fellow poet and blogger, Shai Davis, who shares a middle name, has a wonderful poem on her site Drawn 2 Words. She writes "I keep promising myself I will stop writing about love." Which led me to the question, why do we spend so much time, thought, emotion on love? Yesterday I worked twelve hours, and played Jill Scott the entire day. Two albums consumed my attention for twelve hours, about love.

What is it that captures us? Even after debating politics or the state of our people, discussing the world and life, we always come back to love. No matter how many times I have tried to draft something different, a love related poem springs to my heart, a love based story comes to mind. I am convinced that love is the purity of God, the only emotion that is shocking and comforting, affirming and overwhelming. When we suffer, it is not love, it is the human reaction to or response while in love. Love itself is always pure. And I can't ever get enough.

So I guess we will write on, and dream on, and reminisce about love. Blush, gasp, inhale, exhale and remember loves effects. See there, I feel another poem coming on.....

Heartbroken

Ok - if you read any previous posts, you knew that this one was going to be about the Wire. So bare with me, Ima bit heartbroken. The four boys were still young, havin fun, middle school wildn out. Now, the show is flippin it, just like real life. Maestro's character got himself into a mess - and the same thing happened to a group of brothas in my highschool. Yep, the guard went to jail along with the rest of them. Then Julito's character is under stress - his mom's is tripping. Can't even image a mother pushin her 14 year old on the street to hustle, but it was the real. Speakin of which, she ain't much different from Avon's sista - wasn't she takin her son lunch on the corner in the first season. All over what. The hustle, the game. The idea of wealth, ghetto fabulous. How many does it use up, rape, destroy, and we just keep feeding our young black boys to it, like tic tacs. Damn.

So I won't be catching the rerun tonite. Can't take it, brought back to many memories of too many ghosts, brothas who died before we turned 18. Girls screwin, gettin played, filin rape - (not judging, just finally understand how a young girl comes to that conclusion when she gave her body and received humiliation and unexpected benchwarmers) -brothas doin time for bad decision, at best, rape at worst -once again. The hustlers, big willyin then, fiends now. A lifetime lived before 18. Just too much......

Picture

My Alabama girlfriend (no, I will not call her a Bama) mentioned the lack of my picture on the site. I haven't posted it for a few reasons, first, I am not photogenic. Really. I have two good pictures of me, and digging those up would take too much time. Second, I want the reader to read the poetry without an idea about me. A picture gives a preconceived notion of where I am coming from, taints the experience. Some of my poems are designed to surprise, make you gasp, render some sensual emotion - I think a picture of me might somehow undermine that.

Of course, it is really just that ole self concious thing. I don't want to be under the microscope. I fight self esteem issues daily, and reexamining my picture on my blog would just be an emotional hassle. Discover Kai was supposed to be the place where my imagination could run wild without bringing speculation upon myself. But, in light of the number of requests, I am giving in....I guess I have nothing to hide.

FYI, the picture above was on display in the Smithsonian, taken by Camille Mosley Pasley as part of the Mama Love Book. More info at http://pasleyplace.com. Since I am posting it here, I will probably put it on Discover Kai temporarily. And yes, they are twins, fraternal. Baby boy Jordan and baby girl Jada.....

Apology

The friendship network has connected and responded, with one thick whip. Please forgive my pity party on yesterday. I had a small crew of friends in mind, but broadly included the entire network, wich was unfair. Folks are mad at me....whew! I'm sorry ya'll. You know I don't usually go there, and never whine in public. Now I remember why.

The purpose of the post was really to discuss how and why I started posting on Yahoo and the advantage of utilizing the internet to gain creative guidance. But my general intro and grande finale has rubbed too many raw, so I must apologize. Of course, the few in mind haven't noticed the post yet, they are still cool as a fan, for right now anyway!

Friends?

I don't know about ya'll, but one thing I have learned since putting pen to pad is that I have the most unsupportive bunch of friends. Its sad. Or maybe its a reciprical thing. Did I forget to support some event, or give you a call. I am bad about returning calls. Anyway, when I started writing, I wanted to sit on my work, hide and protect it from those ever lurking copyright thieves. I didn't have $1500 for an editor at the time, nor was I going to pay someone that much just to give me an opinion. I had no contacts with the literary world. So I requested the aid of my very well educated, always reading fiction, friends.

At first, I figured my work just sucked and noone wanted to hurt my feelings. But then, I sucked it up and sent samples to agents and publishers. All very positive feedback (thought they didn't take me on-I still had some work to do). So, when I hinted around, asked a few questions, I started to realize that the friend group just hadn't bothered to read it. Huh? Something I birthed into creation wasn't worth your fifteen minutes? After I have sat at how many kids b-day parties, and bought how many graduation gifts? dang....

Solution: If I am drowning, I sure hope a stranger is nearby, cause if I have to wait on my friends, Ima goner. I began posting to Yahoo groups. I know - some one will steal it, your ideas aren't protected, yada yada yada. At the end of the day, it was worth the risk, just to get an opinion. Not only did I get opinions, but folks offered critiques, writing suggestions, reading choices, etc... I found out about writing competitions, submitted and was accepted for my first published short story. People shared similar concerns and experiences. I interacted online with published authors, who gave much needed encouragement. I gained the courage to blog - haven't yet had the gumption to post a picture, just yet- still thinkin on that-that's a whole nutha self esteem thing....

So, while my friends are still holding the first draft of a multiedited, soon to be published work, my life is moving forward. I wish I had a more supportive group, but, that has been the story of my life. In the meantime, my site has been viewed by more folks than I could ever imagine, most of whom don't know me from Adam. And the poetry posted at Ghetto Soul has over 2500 views in just over a month. I feel good. And thankful. So much so, that I won't even continue to comment on my sorry bunch of friends who will probably confront me about this post when they finally read it in, say, another 9 months.....

Dreams

Returned to work today. Not until the evening though, still slept the day away on that Theraflu high/low. Now I am sitting here, reviewing my blog and other works. I have a childrens' line in development, need an illustrator for that. Two sci fi pieces that are in publication, I am late on submitting the edits to the publisher. A sci fi young adult that is my passion, but the industry has rejected it every way possible.

Self publish? I don't know. I want it out there, in the hands of readers. I don't know that I can accomplish widespread distribution on my own, I mean, look how long it took to get my blog going. But maybe it is the only option.

SO tonite its just dreams of the future - how should I progress, or should I progress at all. Its nice, having dreams again...

Pay for Poems?

I'm sick y'all. Examined and verified - its the flu. My body has been aching for the last two days, but yesterday it just shut down. Felt like I was wearing a moon suit, with every step my body felt heavier until I just had to sit down somewhere. I slept from midnight until 7. 7 until noon. Noon until 3. Haven't had this much sleep since undergrad. A bit groggy, but better. Never too sick to blog, though!!

So, a new issue has come up. My fellow writers are expressing concern that I am posting poetry on the net, for free. One respected writer said I shouldn't give away anything for free, much less my writing. I understand that point of view, but I look at it a little different. Hear me out, tell me what you think:

If writing is a God given talent, then, by the simple nature of it being from God, it is given to me to share with the world - edify and uplift (this can lead off into a different discussion about content(godly vs. worldly)-see previous post). If I take the gift, write, but do not distribute based on the condition of money, then I am placing my own barrier against what I was called to do. If it is meant for me to get paid, then I will. I have other things in the works. But I also don't want to die, and have my greatgrands finding all these works that remained barricaded because I couldn't receive payment for them.

So, I post the poems. They're fun to write. I enjoy it. Maybe I will take them down after a month or so. I don't know. They are copyrighted, but I have no problem granting license to use to anybody that requests it. Maybe I'm trippin, but at the end of this life, my measure has to be more than my pocketbook, don't you think?

Blogging in Black

Discover Kai was added to Blogging in Blacks bloglog. I just wanted to offer a sincere thanks - I greatly enjoy BIB and know my readers will too. BIB features commentary and articles form the leaders in the industry - writers, agents, poets, etc...Be sure to support.

Thanks again
a.Kai

Writer Reputation?

I'm a writer, just like any other. Some days its good, other days....Well, you know. When someone finds out that I am writer, they launch into their latest book idea - apparently everyone has a great book idea. Check this out, this is what I wanna write. I listen politely, bob my head up and down. Move on when I can. They don't understand. I don't just write. I am a writer. This is my being, my call, it is within me. When I don't acquiesce to it, I dry up, imagination disappears, depression sets in. Raising hell about nothing. Frustrated. I have no choice in this thing.

But I can control what I write, to an extent. That's also a dilemma. Poetry, sensual musings, light fiction - all fun. But I have some heavy stuff, science fiction, inspirational, historical fiction, biblical. I'm sitting on some of it. Three have been/are being published.

Can a writer do both? Won't someone read the inspirational and say- but this same writer stated "misted condensation concentrated and brought forth at the sight of you" in a poem (I hope I don't have to explain that one). Won't that underline the good girl an inspirational writer needs to be? Demonstrator of faith and belief. Will it kill the message?

Featured Poet -Ghetto Soul

ALthough I haven't slept - and yesterday still feels like today, since, technically, it is still night time, things are looking brighter already. I am the Featured Poet for Ghetto Soul poetry for the day. Check it out at www.ghettosoul.com (link on Discoverkai). I am so excited...like the breathe of a cool breeze against the back of your neck on a sweltering hot day...

Thanks, Ghetto Soul, for the acknowledgement!!!

Personal Treadmill

Another day, another dollar. Right? Well hopefully. Took the vacation and tried to focus myself today. Useless. Ten different projects and none nearer to completion.

I woke up with a melancholy vibe today. I keep remembering someone I work daily to forget. Well, normally I don't have to work that hard at it, I actually do forget him. Then days like today, I remember and am guilty and sad all over again. Maybe, one day, I will be set free from this cycle.

As usual, I keep running this personal treadmill. Never satisfied with so called accomplishments, don't really notice them, actually, until someone points them out. Says how great it is, look what you've done. Really? No, really? I keep looking for the next thing cause the last one still didn't feel the void. Still didn't answer those inner most questions, calm those night shattering fears. The real answer is probably therapy, but, until then, writing is my way of coping.

Somebody out there pray for me tonite!!

Youngsters on wire

Ya'll already know that I love The Wire. My middle school makes this one look tame - trust. I can relate with these kids so much, when your livin it, though, it doesn't seem so sad, so hopeless. Life just is. I guess I am blown away at the talent - like the black Mickey Mouse Club, all four of these boys are going to be huge. My favorite, Maestro, (plays Randy) was Simba in the Lion King. I actually saw him perform (had to check the playbill to be sure). In fact, I don't have favorites. Julito (Namond) and Tristan (Michael) are doing their thing. How much talent does a youngun have to have to play Dukie, and Jermaine Crawford carries it. Makes you forget your own problems for a minute and get lost in their world.

Comic relief is still the young hopper, Donut, who breaks into Prezbo's car. Love him.
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Kindred Spirit

*Originally posted October 7, 2006*

Exhausted, but happy. Met two kindred spirits, yesterday and today. Thankful to talk to folks who understand this writing thing and the demands of its call.

Spotted a woman at the train station yesterday, with her work uniform still on. Train employee. Walking her daughter and son down the platform,waiting for the train. Preteen daughter grinning and talking, focused lovingly on mom. Baby boy oblivious to them, focused on the flaps of his raincoat. Blessed sight, lucky children. Mom was tired, but putting up that good front, engagin them and listening. I was so proud of her, it couldn't be easy.

With all the craziness in the world, the shooting of innocent children, children preyed on in our own Capital, sexually and mentally corrupted- my heart aches. It was good to see a mother hen with her chicks, protective and lovin. An old school mom.

Keep still during turmoil, and watch Him bring peace.

Good night

Good day 4 me/bad 4 world

*Originally posted October 4, 2006*

Alright, so I posted the poem and instantly regretted it. Venting frustration is one thing, but airing my girls dirty laundry might have been crossing the line. The problem is that i am normally too PC face to face, so the only way I could say what I wanted to say was through the poem. I am workin on coming out of that shell - being real, just don't like hurtin folks feelings. Thankfully, she got it and loved the poem. Blind Eye is dedicated to her now...

Met this HU grad today. Successful, monetarily comfortable, buck wild. And I mean wild. Can't believe he kisses his mamma with that nasty mouth. Of course, I liked him alot-wish him well. Don't think I can ever bring him home though, type of brotha to chill with while having drinks with the girls, thats it. He would bring the house down. Literally.

More children shot and killed in schools today. Makes me so so so unbelievably sad. And helpless feeling. I got to make a difference, help out in the world, while I can. Im serious about that. Gotta make some sacrifices now. That child I reach today might be the one, if left without help and no love, to stick you up in ten years. Think on that. Its all cyclical: let them suffer now, and your children will feel the wrath. Trust.

Alright, Im going to bed. Another long day in front of me. Be blessed

The Wire - again

*Originally posted October 1, 2006*

Well - Sunday night, the one time a week I actually watch TV anymore. Once again, the Wire was worth every wasted minute of life. Did you see the young hopper roll past in the stolen joint, when Marlo's henchman were schooling Bodi? That was the funniest...But the show is the saddest too. You know Marlo and them are about to turn this little boy out - evil always seeks to destroy the best and the brightest, although I haven't quite written Marlo off as evil. He reminds me of too many of my cousins. And I don't think they are tryin to destroy the boy, they thinkin they are extending opportunity. Heart breakin.....

Somebeody got hip to the Def Jam dancers and switched it up. So thankful. Kat Williams is the best, this character actually got me so hyped, I was standing in front of the TV by the end of his set. Like a child mesmerized, I didn't even remember standing up....

So, a good friend is going thru a separation. I wrote a poem about it. Want to hear it? Hear it ....naw, I am afraid to post it, don't want to put her business out there. But there are things I want to tell her and can't get it across any other way. We'll see..

Good night yall

College Girl

*Originally posted September 30, 2006*

I was making my way to the train and I walked past this sister. Something about her struck me, I don't really know what, she was sporting a college sweatshirt, jeans, flip flops. Hair in a wrap. Used to be me a few years back. When undergrad was everything. But my chest started hurting and I felt sad. I don't know why. It was only a glance, I'm sure the girl didn't notice me. But her sadness affected me, reminded me of the emotion I had when I wrote "Seized Opportunity." Anyway, I wrote "achieve, little girl" with her in mind. I hope she makes it through whatever had her down, achieves the impossible.

Made me think of all the little girls, in women's bodies, trying to make our way through this maze. All of us a little damaged, but surviving. Please be kind to the little girls in your life, our burden is never easy.....

Ghetto Soul

*Originally posted September 28, 2006*

Ghetto Soul - the only site that I enjoy posting to, cause the readership is real, and doin their thing, give much feedback - crazy support - linked to Discover Kai. I am without words, excited. Black Refer listed to Discover Kai too. Unbelievable. Thank you, thank you, for the encouragement. May not seem like a lot to ya'll but for me, anyone taking the time to even look and consider my little efforts is much appreciated......

Poems

*Originally Posted Spetember 26, 2006*

Having a good day - started a new gig, a couple of contracts fell into my lap. Happy. Need a cushion, finally.

Had 1098 viewers of my poetry on Ghetto Soul website (link at Discover Kai Links) - that is crazy! Good feedback! Hoping to get some guidance from some old school writers, any feedback, given in a kind spirit, certainly appreciated. Right now its all stream of conciousness - know that i need to add some structure at some point.

Hope tomorrow is just as good...maybe the rest of tonight I'll chill....

a.Kai

The Wire

*Originally posted September 25, 2006*

I thought The Wire slit it's wrist last season when it killed off Stringer Bell. Watching Idris Elba talk, alone, would occupy my full attention. Why bother to watch it anymore, right? Wrong. Amazingly, they have upped it a notch. Yo, I am feelin it this season. The young crew is perfect, like relivin middle school! And these brotha's Marlo and Omar - "ay yo" - Even the mayor is on fire - told the crony - "i'll drop you from the ticket." If you didn't know, you gotta watch it.

Def Jam - pretty good. Tony Roberts is a fool. Dominque was good too. First guy, alright. What's with the dancers at the end, though? Do they really only do one dance on the west coast. I doubt it. And I doubt most folks are spasmin out like that on any coast. They can switch up the dancers anytime now.

I really only watch TV on Sunday nights anymore, never have time on any other day. Got my fill tonite, almost too satisfied to write....but not quite.

Relationships

*Originally posted September 23, 2006*

I wonder why relationships are so difficult? I mean, in the beginning, we speak the same language, vibe together, enjoy each other. Then, that space arrives, something starts to happen. Suddenly the void is there, that impenetrable space with no words.

Is that always the end? It is when most folks walk, cheat, entertain other options. But what if that is just the first plateau? Like climbing a hill, then flat land, before another hill. Is it worth staying?

I wonder...

Travel

*Originally posted September 22, 2006*
Good day- kinda long, but no more than usual. Up around 6, sleep at.....
Looking forward to travelling soon, maybe Vegas, maybe homecoming. Definitely hitting Miami. I'll keep you posted.

Tired

*Originally posted September 21, 2006*

The creative juices would probably flow better if I got more than three hours of sleep on any given night. Working, or trying to, during the day. Running behind the mini wu-tang. Site development at night...Why am I doing this, again?