balancing act

sometimes i feel like it's too much work for me to take care of me.

if i focus on the house, my diet suffers.
a bad bout of pms, and my house goes to hell. (eating habits, too)
if i go on a pampering binge, laundry doesn't get done.

etc and so on.

i know i've been emotionally spoiled. i.e., when a tangible, profound exchange of love and loving is not happening in my life, i notice it. blame the comfort and security of my childhood.

i know that there are far worse things to be, know, and long for. i'm not knocking my blessings. my ori wisely chose this path, probably so i would not have to struggle through all sorts of psychological and emotional trauma.

however, for most of my adult life, i've been able to easily replace that familial loving with some very dynamic lovers, suitors, paramours, and the like.

i don't think that will be as easy now.

it takes more to get me open than it did at 18 or 23, and that's as it should be.

but i still miss the love.
what can i do about that?

then again, i also miss my disposable income, energy, and yoga classes.

there's gotta be a happy medium.


a reminder.

if you're half steppin, don't bother steppin at all.
i don't want maybes, buts, excuses or apologies.

if you want me, say so.
if you don't, say that too.

if you want to know, ask, and i'll tell you.
if you hold up a jewel in front of me, it'd better be for me.

yeah, tension's ok and all, but right now? i want satisfaction.

i've done enough waiting.
i've had enough of sometimes, almosts, and coulda/shouldas.

i need firm ground to stand on, promises fulfilled, adoration repaid.

if you've promised me nothing, you owe me nothing.
but don't come knocking and talking big, 'cause that'll get you nowhere.

potential means very little.
i'm sorry, but that ship has sailed.
results, movement, progress, evolution...that's everything.

i'd rather be that woman and keep my soul than watch it wither away and call it a home.

...and i'm going to keep saying it until he shows up.

the he who can do what he says...not just think about it or visualize it.
who isn't afraid.
who doesn't back down--from me or himself.
who will fight for me like i'll fight for him.
who will know that i'm his from my walk, my smile, and my laugh.
who realizes that not being co-dependent doesn't mean i don't need him.

this rant brought to you by a bona fide omo sango moment. kawo kabiyesile!



beginnings of the new altar

overhead view (those are goddess figurines on the right...moon/bird, earth/voluptuous venus, quan yin)

$5 angel figurine i found at the salvation army...i didn't intend to put her there, but she felt perfect. i think it's the expression on her face. and that's one of my favorite ways to seat myself, too.


playing along...

got this over here...

So, here’s how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you're cool…

Opening Credits:
saul williams, "sunday bloody sunday"

Waking Up:
cassandra wilson, "tarot"
that could work. i need to be told "don't give up" lately.

First Day At School:
d'angelo, "smooth"
never. lol. i'm always a wreck.

Falling In Love:
common, "the people"

Fight Song:
meshell n'degeocello, "headline"

Breaking Up:
madlib, "sitar ride"

rachelle ferrell, "i can explain"
that actually fits...it was a rather traumatic evening...

jamiroquai, "you are my love"

Mental Breakdown:
4hero, "2-BS-74638"
does sound a little unstable...

meshell n., "mu-min"
depends on the drive...

cassandra wilson, "love is blindness"
LOL. yeah. could be...

Getting Back Together:
adele, "best for last"
perfect, considering my last situation.

adele, "tired"

Birth of Child:
erykah badu, "time's a wastin"
no $hit...

Final Battle:
madlib, "dark alley incidental music"
i can dig it.

Death Scene:
ursula rucker, "broken"
good title...

Funeral Song:
adele, "chasing pavements"

End Credits:
bugz in the attic, "dreams come true"
i hope so...


...in the spirit of rebuilding

it's time to re-imagine the goddesspace.

the energy's shifted significantly. even the pothos cutting has wilted quite a bit.

this isn't unusual or distressing--it often happens when i create this sort of space. eventually i have to dismantle and clear it, then start with something new.

it's been almost a year, so it's a good sign that the prayers and intentions i've put in have done their work, and it's time to move to the next phase.

this incarnation will probably focus on clarity and vision, which means more white/clear things. completely new candles. particular arrangements of crystals. i may skip the earth elements (stones, plants) in favor of more air and ether.


3 tealights (body, mind, spirit, triple goddess, etc.)
goddess card spreads
plenty of quartz, aquamarine, and amethyst

it's tempting to start building it now, but better to wait for the new moon.

...i can still make a trip to ikea, though!

and i still really, really want my love room...

one day.

steppin to the mic

thinking about this entry again...

i went to an open mic last night at the urging of a couple of talented brothas, and i had a nice time. lots of very talented folks came through and performed.

i also realized that i have no desire to go back to that scene--at least not as a participant.

i'm not saying i'll never write a poem again--i just wrote one the other day--and i'd most certainly go to poetry/spoken word events ("i need to get out more" is a vast understatement). but i don't have any need to share my own musings beyond these online spaces.

the selective stage fright has dissipated. the idea of reading doesn't fill me with dread, but there's also no burning need to speak my peace.

time and space, apparently, have neutralized me.

i'm always going to write because, well, it's what i do. but perform? probably not.

for now, i'll keep (most of) my notebooks, but there will be a massive digital purge. it's all just dead creative weight at this point; fragments that have been lying around for so many years, there's no way to know how to reassemble them.

some things i've "thought" of, i've seen written since. it was my personal proof of the theory that ideas are literally floating through the air, and you and 500 other folks might discover a concept at the same time, but only one or two will actually flesh it out in a way that exposes it to the wider world. the other 498-499 will simply think you a genius when you do.

i've probably lost more half novels and semi second drafted stories than i've ever written--either to outdated technology, the death of my laptop, lost disks, torn up notebooks, etc. and so on--hence the paragraph under this blog's title.

and i'm not sad about it.

i don't know if it's because i'm still finding my voice, or that i'm just not meant to write the next great (american?) novel.

but i'm coming to think of writing as not my calling, but simply a vessel of expression i excel at.

perhaps i will write a book or a blog about my calling that will pull it all together...

but, i'm not a slam poet.
or a mc.
i'm probably not even a novelist or story writer, despite my bits of training.

just a girl who plays with words now and then.


i want to write...

but every word is a dagger, like the little mermaid's footsteps.

it's all too raw, too unprocessed to let out. at least to the interwebs.

but i want to write it.

as usual, it's probably the only way i'll make sense of the whole mess.



i'm piggybacking her joint today. i heard about this mess several days ago, but didn't know how to respond, or if it was even worth it.

she pretty much hit the nail on the head.

i posted on okp for several years, mostly during college. while i made some good friends through the site--online and off--i've also seen just how ugly and petty it can get over there.

newsflash, y'all: a whole lot of women would be living the life erykah's living if they had the financial capability and emotional/spiritual understanding she does.

dudes wanna get their boxers in a bunch when they realize that truly conscious women, ones who are interested in living their best, most authentic lives, might just wanna have their babies and raise them and leave the rest be. in fact, some women have been forced to do so already.

remember this video? a lot of women would like that life.

many men's views of what a conscious woman is and/or should be are couched in the concepts, ideals, and mores of veiled (or not so veiled) patriarchial systems.

in other words, more of the same--they just call you queen while they do it.

but there are other women who've come to their consciousness above and beyond those systems. others have even attempted to reform and reimagine those systems in their own images. and that's when the labeling starts.

e.g., it's cool to be a good rasta woman or a righteous earth, but erykah's just a kemetic-slang spittin' poser.



hurricane [you]

i'm glad that i've progressed to the point where i can recognize a trigger and deal with it.

that i am well past the place where i would call an innocent man and completely kirk out on him.

that i can write a poem, talk to a friend, or cry instead.

but i wonder how many women* stay stuck in that place where, if someone hits that nerve, they turn into a hurricane of fury and pain.

every time i see a hapless looking dude getting cussed out in the street, i wonder.

is she really yelling at him?

or is she yelling at her father?
her rapist?
the dirty old man at the corner store?
the disappointment?
the dude who left her semi-homeless and with children to feed?
her mother?
the grandmother who raised her but obviously didn't want to?

who are we truly angry with?
who can we forgive?
what do we do with the pain they leave behind?

*of course this can apply to people in general.


black & blue

i recall the sensation
of your fingertips grazing my hips...

they wanted to get to know you
you seemed to want the same.

there's been lots of silence since.
the hands transposed with daggers
memories laced with dolor.

convivial conversations in sweetened sunshine
ended in bitter tears
falling into sunday morning tea.

no consolation
fearing confrontation
immobilized by the past
uncertain of the future.

the spirits said...
then you did...
left reeling, confused, bruised
ego cradling.

i don't know what you want
but if you're leaving, take my crystal ball.

the others cracked it
now i can see the spider web taking shape...

it's useless to me.

maybe you can ground it into pixie dust.

i need a different spell.

(c) l.a.m. 2008


the moon is waning...

my intuition feels...off. or maybe he's just confusing. i don't know anymore, and this thing isn't enough of a "thing" to try to figure it out.

there's still a lot of this feeling. i don't know whether to throw it off or wrap it around me like a blanket.

the house needs cleaning, but i still don't have the energy. i don't know why clearing space can be so difficult at times. there's still a suitcase beside the couch from the florida trip for chrissakes.

i feel like i've hit some kind of wall...a messy wall. i'm not quite sure what i want to do with these feelings.

i need to use this poem as a prayer.

i just realized i've been drinking water almost steadily for the last couple of hours. i'm sure i need it.

eh. i'm not saying shit.

i'm gonna throw on something from my itunes folder and type up some more pages. if i'm gonna be stuck in the house on a saturday night, i can at least be productive.

maferefun yemonja

mother whose children are the fish


mmmm hmm...

this is one of those cycles where i feel like i need to give birth...there's little bloating, but i feel heavy and awkward anyway. i can't wait for the flow to bring some relief.

and i would love...


singlehood chronicles #3

i'm coming to realize that the hurt hasn't gone away.

i forgive him, per se. person-to-person i hold no grudge.

but i'm still stuck with the emotional fallout.

how am i supposed to trust anyone with myself/my dreams again?

how will my relationships be defined from here and beyond, now that kids/marriage/picket fenced houses are not the obvious "goal" (at least not for me)?

what do i need to do to reconstruct my life/ideas around being--for the foreseeable future--a completely single woman? do i pour myself into work/creativity/the grind? do i have to keep a special space open, or will space be made at the appropriate time?

i don't want to miss out on a good thing, but i don't know how to stand the wait, either.

it's similar to how i felt when cosmo disappeared on me all those years ago: helpless, frustrated, alone, frightened, and angry.

even so, it's not like i'm gonna run out and find me a man, 'cause that wouldn't help, either.

i just need to get my bearings. since i am not used to being knocked off my square, it can take some time to recover from the shock when i am.

but i will find my way. i always do.

addendum (7.17.2008)--a melancholy has settled over the entire enterprise. i think i'm going to focus on finding ways to please and pleasure myself...dealing with outside interests seems too tiring.

it's amazing how quickly the jubliation i felt in late spring around being courted has given way to this. oh well. such is life.


mujer soledad

rough day at work...pretty big screw up, but at least there wasn't anyone important around to see. i'm hoping i fixed it.

lots of last minute wrangling...at least i prepared for that.

ego's sorely bruised. didn't prepare for that. didn't think i had to.

kinda feeling that whole "i doubt i'll ever be anyone's mother/wife..." thing again.

had to avoid an argument i don't even understand the root of.

the candle won't burn over my prayer.

get paid tomorrow, but i know that won't be the end of the money woes. is there ever an end to those?

i'm tired.
probably a little lonely.
and very, very sad.

i tried to take a deep breath, suck it up, pull myself up by my stubbornly proud bootstraps...

but i can't right now.
it hurts.
all of it.

and i don't even think it's the hormones talking.

for the first time in awhile, i'm very aware of my alone-ness. that there isn't someone to help shoulder the burden*. that there are a lot of hopes and dreams that just aren't on the table in any real way right now, and i don't have the energy to sit by the window and wistfully hope for them.

they're just...not there. and i can't count on them being there, no matter what the shells say. this is the one area where my faith can sincerely fail me.

deep down i'm a dreamer, so that's extraordinarily heartbreaking.

but until i find a soft place to rest, that's my life.

and if i'm supposed to wait patiently--heart open and bleeding, palms to the sky--for the universe to send me a marvel, then maybe i'm not ready. 'cause i simply cannot be that vulnerable right now.

for the foreseeable future, i work for me. period. even if i do it through tears.

at least they'll be my tears.

*family/friends are the exceptions to this statement. i love both, and they're always there for me. this is more about relationships.


the best laid plans...

i left work with all kinds of hopes and dreams swimming in my head...

doing my hair
cleaning up a bit
maybe some flirtation thrown in or a bit of cooking...

but the hormones took over.

and now i'm just tired
and hot
with a sink full of dishes staring me down.

bought a pizza i probably had no business eating or buying
(at least i didn't eat ALL of it...)
then sat down and started aimlessly cruising the web.

now i'm exhausted
and haven't conjured
or written
or done my hair
or cleaned.

in fact, i think i've made more of a mess.

it is imperative that i remember to take my b vitamin tomorrow...


i need to be grateful.

there have been too many rants and raves lately. so here goes:

low humidity summer mornings
summer, period
billie holiday records
sweet kisses
a cat that knows just when to love me up & watch over me
florida tans
sista circles
watching the moon grow a little each night
knowing what i need and how to make it happen


one denial away from a temper tantrum...

another day stuffed with pockets of frustration.

it's 10pm and i've barely settled in, but i've gotta find a way to get to bed anyway.

work's demanding.

briefly thought about going out, but i'm stone broke.

i didn't eat lunch, but i at least got a bottle of water in.

lovers are quiet.

dreams are elusive.

your blessing will come with the full moon.
i hope so.

the egun are whispering, patience, child. patience.

i'm trying.
i really am.

normally i am patient. i don't mind waiting, biding my time.

but suddenly the very thought of having to wait a moment longer for anything makes me want to scream and holler.

what am i in such a rush to get to?


use your words

...that's the message i'm working with right now.

so i need to write. often. i need to finish one of these half-assed projects that's been rolling around in my head for the past few years.

i suppose that's all well and good. at least it would be if i weren't so...

fiercely impatient
hot (as in warm. literally.)

...aching like a starving goddess with no living medium to remember her name.

it's probably underutilized and stagnant creative energy bubbling up to the surface.

i'd like it to shut up and go away. or at least simmer down.

but i suppose i'll have to bear with the discomfort until i determine how i'm going to use it...


around the house...

holy water

stuffed zucchini (breadcrumbs, tomatoes, garlic, etc.)

one of my favorite symbols on a shirt i hardly wear


between heaven and earth

i feel like i can't breathe...

my antennae are up, and the heat's swirling around my head again.

i feel like i need to sing, dance...use my body. writing it out isn't enough.

i've been back at home for a few hours. sometimes this space feels too full of memories and yet-to-be's to be comfortable anymore.

...that probably means it's time to call out some things and smudge the entire place.

the neighborhood negroes are still setting off firecrackers, some of which sound more like pipe bombs. i also had to kill a spider solo earlier, which always puts me on edge.

part of me wants to force myself to sleep, but i know i'm not that tired. i'd be up again at 3am, stir crazy.

i can't sit still long enough to watch my dvds (just started season 3 of the wire...).

i'm doing some half assed web surfing, but that's not satisfying, either.

if i had some money, i'd go out...but then again, i'd also probably drink too much than is good for me, trying to work myself into a socially acceptable trance.

eventually i'll probably get a headache, light a ton of candles, and fall asleep out of sheer frustration.


constant surprises

it's amazing how i can see the patterns, lessons and dreams that led me to someone; how all the experiences of this and past lifetimes weave the lens i see through.

consequently, it doesn't take me long to figure out what i want, how i want it, and how long i want it for.

and i can feel myself wanting to try again.
that's scary.

but it's different this time.

spells have been broken. karma relieved of its duty.

i feel safe enough to open up, relax, enjoy, and please...yet i'm still awake/wary enough to wait, watch, and listen.

even if i slipped and fell, i could still walk away.

still...i hope it's as real as it feels.

I was walking home
Looking at the trees
Got the feeling that they
Were looking back at me

Thoughts that occurred to me
Were not of the usual kind
And I don’t take that for granted no
I don’t call them mine
I don’t call them mine
‘Cause in my life things
Are built on
They're built on

Constant surprises
Coming my way
Some call it coincidence
But I like to call it fate

The higher forces want to connect
Last night in my dream I was talking to you
You know who you are
Were you dreaming too
‘Cause in my life
Things are built on
Are built on

Constant surprises
Coming my way
Some call it coincidence
But I like to call it fate

Then on my way home I met this guy
He was not so shy
You know not that kind
We spoke and suddenly I could read his mind
You think it’s mad
But I don’t fool myself
You think its odd
‘Cause in my life
In my life things are built on
They're built on
They're built on

Constant surprises
Coming my way
Some call it coincidence
But I like to call it fate

y'all remember this?

one of my fave hip hop songs ever...