poverty is not revolutionary.

i don't think i've ever seen this articulated as well as Sis. LaTava did on facebook recently.

i'm posting the note in its entirety since not everyone would be able to see it if i simply linked back.

An oath to poverty is NOT indicative of a revolutionary mindset; it is a sign of ABUSE!"

In the 22 years of knowingly and actively working on behalf of my people I have seen family after family, couple after couple, choosing to live in what I call an oath to poverty. I have seen women hold to commitments to men who are unable (really just unwilling) to [help] provide the basic provisions of food, clothing, shelter, transportation and money for them and their children in the name of “Amerikkka is falling” and “This white man’s system is going down. We gotta let go of materialism.” Hmm… I agree. Materialism is a major problem and contributes greatly to a person’s willingness to live in economic slavery.

HOWEVER, having decent, safe and stable housing IS NOT A MATERIALISTIC EXPECTATION! Being able to feed your children, not just to sustainability, but to satisfaction IS NOT A MATERIALISTIC EXPECTATION! Insisting upon reliable transportation and living in a house with heat AND lights AND water IS NOT A MATERIALISTIC EXPECTATION! Having a voice in your own house IS NOT TRYING TO BE THE MAN in your relationship, nor is it being a FEMINIST! Having NO SAY SO about how the money is spent or earned is ECONOMIC OPPRESSION and is a form of ABUSE! Being made to feel guilty because you change your mind about a path taken or a decision made DOES NOT MAKE YOU DISLOYAL OR A LIAR! It means that you have intelligently reconsidered your options based on new or additional information or changes in circumstances.

BLACK WOMAN! If you and your children are living like this… it may be his fault, but YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE! And you have the power and authority to CHANGE IT today! Choosing to live in poverty, oppression or abuse at the hands of a man who says he loves you is much like being a passenger on the TITANIC. By telling you that you must learn to be satisfied with nothing, he is telling you that the ship is sinking and we must learn to live in the ocean. Practice holding your breath and regulating your body temperature so that you don’t feel so bad when death comes your way.

If, in fact, the ship (amerikkka) is sinking (and the ship is damn sure sinking) it would seem to me that a logical next step would be to find and or build a lifeboat that will carry you and your children safely back to shore (sure footing). It would seem to me that you would desire a means to return you to the standard of living to which you are accustom. If in your so-called consciousness you have learned that you are in fact descendants of “kings and queens,” then why don’t you work toward providing the finest life your skills and education can produce for you and your family.

Like many, I too want to leave this country, but I do not intend to do so on the back of a mule. Nor do I desire to flee to a destination only to find myself living in primitive conditions all in the name of revolution. If it is true that this white man’s education system is inadequate in comparison to the brilliance of our legendary wisdom (and it is), then I should be willing and able to easily master it to the point of providing myself with a quality of life I can be proud to offer to my children as their heritage. My "supreme" knowledge, wisdom and understanding should produce a woman whom my daughters seek to emulate and qualities my sons desire in future wives. If this does not sound like the results you are experiencing from your "superior enlightenment" SOMETHING IS WRONG! Look around you. Find a woman you RESPECT and admire, who is NOT living in the same dissatisfactory (sorry-ass) condition you are dying in and ask her for her sisterhood and her help. And when she tries to help your Black-ass… LISTEN! If you allow false pride and/or pretentious titles (i.e. queen, goddess, priestess, empress, oracle, tree stump, door mat, whatever) keep you from accepting the help you need to CHANGE YOUR CONDITION you are a fool and a fraud. You only hurt yourself and your children, because once you become the total dead weight that your death style produces, your so-called man will be on to the next one.

Any REAL MAN (any real king) wants a woman who is of high quality character, who sets standards that will improve the quality of his character more and more every day. A woman who he knows that in her own rights commands the honor, respect and admiration of others. A woman who will bring forth children with the cosmic intuitive nature to produce and create beyond the furthest imaginations of a slave. A woman who is the queen YOU WERE DESTINED TO BE!

*drops mic*

required reading

read this.

it's less than 30 pages.

DO NOT PASS GO
DO NOT COLLECT $200

just go and read this, right now.

then allow yourself to at least think about what it says.

you can thank me later.

i've got a lot to think about.

and some changes to go through. so forgive me if i don't write often...

the new job came through, so i've been giving thanks for that.

but now, all of a sudden, the current gig's got the money i should have had six months ago.

however....

i need a challenge.
i need to stretch my wings away from what i like to call the evil empire.
i need a change of scenery--even if it does come with a commute.
i need...fresh air. new faces.
i need opportunities that are gonna help me in the long run.

this deal i've been offered feels like a retrograde special--do it, and you'll regret it.

esu's already spoken, and so has my ori.

i know where i need to be, and i'm pretty certain that it ain't where i'm at.

but a little meditation & some cowrie tossin never hurt.

y'all stay beautiful.
peace.

amen, brotha. amen.

That's Not In My Job Description
by Paul Beatty

despite that i overslept
and set a guinness book world record for coming in late
its still time for me to take my 15 minute break

pull off my sweater vest
talking shit

cross my sneakers on the desk
threaten to call my union rep
if these fools

dont stop lookin at me crazy
whisperin lazy
under their breath

but during my siesta
i eavesdrop on societys best

imagine im a distinguished ethnographer

on the black pbs
talkin with a british lisp
in front of a bookshelf

welcome to alistair cooke's In Search of
today we pursue The Elusive True Nature of Whitey

notice as
our cameras
zoom in on

a pinstriped pack of business school well groomed brooks brother
smoothies
encamped around a water cooler jostling for room in their natural
habitat
wiping dunkin donut crumbs off their jackets and engaged in debates
on hot topics
such as:

nuclear waste the china syndrome
alternative methods of heating their homes

and right before

the herd starts to roam

the menfolk take part in the ritual
shooting of the styrofoam cups into the trash basket

and if they make it
they dance around like
they just saved the world

headin my way
lookin for some dap

so i try to look busy
which im good at

start rustlin charts
construct some new paper clip art
chew on a pen cap as if im seriously studying my messenger map

hmmmm did you know that main street runs perpendicular to beech
and parallel with elm for exactly 1 and seven/eighteenths of
a mile
before it intersects with west crest
well blow me down

i aint got time to mope
worryin aloud about
how imma cope wid radioactive isotopes and mushroom clouds

when its me myself

thats about to explode

an overloaded low level gung-ho ah-so nigro rickshaw coolie
the company dr. doolittles thought they knew me
i talk the animals como se llama push–me–pull–me

bowin n kowtowin
eatin crow
holdin my tongue
hands clung so tightly to the bottom rung
cant even reach for the glass ceiling

my feet planted in corporate dung
growing roots
in the ground zero
terra firma
of affirmative
daily inaction

copy xerox mop remember the blue ones go on top
shred fedex the checks press the red button next
fax wax collapse the green mail sacks go to jack

right after i put my year-end evaluation
in the management trainee mailbox

one of them fresh out of college cookie cutter fuckers
invites me to meet the buddies for drinks at mcgillicuddy's

i only wanted a nine to five
that classified didnt say nothin bout havin to socialize

now this wage slave
is t-minus nine heinekens from critical mass

me and a few hoogie white democrats
drinking after work rolling rocks
smoking marlboros out of the box

all you can do is wait for the chain reaction show of ass

when one of em
looks me in the eye
and decides
to say something to the colored guy

its
all systems go
the white folks start actin like they know

hey bro er uh bro-ham
i happen to be a big rap fan
went to see ice cube and michel'le
at the hollywood palladium
and i was the only white person in the place
aint i soul brother

there must have been another workshop on how to handle your
support staff
which in this craft is a euphemism for niggers n spics

itsa trip
watching a one-sided will to unite

if i could get in a word edgewise i wouldnt
since im with my boss
and dont want to get fired
all i can do is sigh
too chicken to pay the price

as they get excited
giddy from overexercising their rights

my dad owns a liquor store in the inner city so i know how you feel

ive read toni morrisons beloved twice
and even though i still didnt get it the second time shes just so real

i believe that spike is truly five for five
no no you dont understand i really want to be like mike

or maybe a harlem globetrotter
its my dream to send my daughter to spelman
where can she get a check up for sickle cell
whats the name of your hair gel/pomade
do you use a depilatory when you shave
how can i join the crips
just what is hip
i know its after the fact but i dont think king shouldve called for calm
i wanna be a minister in the nation of islam
isnt so and so such an uncle tom

when theyre through
they pat themselves on the back
and quote jesse jackson

we have to start on the front end of head start and day care
not on the back end of prison and welfare

keepin hope alive
i buy the next round

wonderin how it would sound if i changed my name to skip
placed a mike tyson kingsized if i ruled the world chip on my shoulder
went to a joint full of rednecks
put my elbows on the bar cleared my throat and said

becks
then id go into my show

did you know i was elected to the senate inna landslide
and i was the only colored man there without rag in my hand for
polishin brass or shining shoes

or

at last weeks tractor pull i was the only spear chukker
drivin monster pick-ups over a bunch of crushed oldsmobiles

or

i sailed in the americas cup

or

i went to the university of vermont and rowed crew

or

i grew up in a two room shack in the appalachian mountains picked
myself up
by the shitkickers went door to door selling berlitz and scripture
moved to
utah sang soprano in the mormon tabernacle choir married into the
osmonds
and now i spend my weekends smokin pot with donnie and marie
reading back
issues of teen beat magazine

or

im included in the canon
im a cardinal in the vatican
im the highest paid player on the boston red sox
i own IBM stock
i play nazi punk rock
i drink coors extra gold by the case
i can say puke with a straight face
i have a seat on wall street
im an LL bean catalogue model
my art is in the metropolitan
i had a major part in a woody allen movie
and i do the broadway casting for tommy tune

but i wouldn't give a shit about nuna dis
if i could just say im a nigger who has enough room

(from AGNI 37 & 56)

Paul Beatty was born in Los Angeles and now lives in New York. (1993)

tell 'em why you mad...

there are not many times in my life when my anger has been this palatable. i can almost feel it on the tip of my tongue each time i speak.

the years i loved, struggled, held on, fought...

i want to scream for putting up with it all for as long as i did.

ultimately, i know i stayed out of love, but in hindsight, nothing seems to justify the waiting.

besides, it's pointless to fuss over the past. what's happened has happened for a reason, just like i was able to let go at this moment for a reason. everything happens in its due time, and this is no different.

new loves will come, we will both heal. in the meantime, there's work to do.

the anger is simply motivation to move ahead.

catharsis #1

trying to figure out how to get out of this funk...

part of it has to do with railing against the boredom.

i need to get back on my prayer schedule.

monday's a full moon. time to get some obstacles out of the way.

an extended fast is in order. i've been avoiding any kind of cleansing because i've convinced myself that i don't have the energy/power to keep it up. that's a lie.

the once-a-week fasting went really well for awhile, but stress and annoyance got me off track. i've been sporadic (at best) for weeks.

i've also gotten sloppy about keeping up the other end of the bargain: sticking to vegan/natural foods when i break the daytime fast. now i just go home and pig out. not ideal.

i need to be clear, but i understand that part of me doesn't want to deal with the energy of clarity. i think i've been afraid of what i'll discover, need, want, or realize if i stay on that level too long.

it's something of a misguided protective mechanism; it's extremely difficult for me to resign myself to sitting here day in and day out when i'm functioning optimally. better to sedate myself with cookies and sit here half awake. the illusion of physical hunger keeps me focused on something other than my goals. i've probably always been a little too resistant to change for my own good.

been thinking more about bodywork lately, but that's another sort of heartbreak. i still feel like i'll make a living at it. one day. but that doesn't change the fact that i need money i don't have to get started.

i can't decide if i would rather go into debt to get licensed and hustle from there, or if i should just get my ducks in a row now so i'll be free & clear later.

...well, maybe that's not so difficult. free and clear sounds much better to me. i'm not a good hustler.

i need to move my body. i have to find a way to fit yoga back into my schedule/budget. find a dance class. been saying it for months now, but i really need to make it a priority. i'm certain that my lack of movement is contributing to this feeling of stagnation. moving my body and keeping my energy aligned will whip my mental and spiritual faculties into shape.

there's so much more to this...

i have to become unafraid of opening the floodgates.

repression leads to extremes of implosion and explosion--modes i want to avoid.

i need a way to scream, cry, release. i haven't given myself space to do that. sometimes i don't know if i remember how to.

there has to be a way to vent frustration and progress at the same time.

show of strength

some days it's amazing that i find a way to keep from screaming.

i can't believe that i'm not sitting here in tears, babbling like an idiot.

i don't know if this is strength, or stupidity.
probably survival.
i do need a job, after all.

but this is one of those days i have to hold my breath.

on my way to work, i almost got caught up in the breeze and the sunshine and the brilliance of the trees...not to mention cassandra's voice on the stereo...

and i had to stop it.
suck it all in.
hold back the poems trying to bubble up,
hold back the instinct to find a spot to pour libation and pray,
refuse to dance to the drums playing in my head.

because i knew i had to come in here, and i haven't figured out how to balance ecstacy and professionalism just yet.

obatala, keep my head cool.

today i am grateful for sunshine, laughter, jasper, and just the right song at just the right time.

light years

If you don't know you can be light years
Away from your true destination. No conscious escalation
Until I get with good vibration
I'm never gonna get to use that
use that earthly power
Substitutes
Can never take the place of peace of mind
Losing all sense of direction.

~jamiroquai, "light years"

i'm trying to refrain from saying i hate my job until i have someplace else to go.

still, having to deal with my inner child's temper tantrums upon waking on weekday mornings has become a little tiring.

i feel like i can't understand my dreams because i'm too busy trying to fight off the bullshit and boredom of my days.

my spirit isn't the only thing that's free. sometimes i feel like i was born to be freedom, period. but that's not something that's easy to be when you're trying to be a "grown-up" in this society. saving up precious "vacation" days just to have a little time to breathe...and hell, at least i get vacation...wtf is that about?

you know what? fk it.
i'm grateful for what i have
and where i am.
i'm aware of my progression
at least i'm writing fairly regularly again...

this situation has always been temporary.

i'ma be aight.

still. when that alarm clock goes off...

free floss!

apparently they have some "get your floss on" campaign for the students here at my place of employment.

so...i now have a pretty little (free!) blue box of dental floss from "united concordia"--a group of ppl concerned with "insuring america's dental health".

at least that's what the box says.

the fact that this was pretty much the highlight of my day should strike you as rather tragic. lol.

happy friday!

makes me wanna holler...

you know, some days it's all i can do to sit at this desk & keep from crying...

maybe i'll allow myself a pity party tonight, let some of the tears flow, and use the weekend to get the strength to keep going.

i'm so BORED.

hell, i can't even shop at lunch. there's nothing around that's not a pawn shop, $1 store, or full of meat...

every time i go to the market down the street, i'm surrounded by some of the poorest & most pained of my people...and it ain't like me sitting here doing my 40 hours is doing shit to help any of 'em.

every month another block of houses is sacrificed for them to build more "biotech parks" and what not...

just this morning i found out one of my bosses is going to india next month. india. are you fkin kiddin me? and i could barely get to VEGAS last summer?

and i'm moving to a smaller office. that i'll still have to share.

nah.
fk this.
i need better
i deserve better
and i'm gonna get better.

i just have to go out there and grab it.

i wanna feel like i'm doing something, anything, to actually make a difference for someone else. i need to be working, somehow, with and in the real world. or at least get a promotion every couple of years. get paid enough to save some money, travel, AND treat myself to some goodies every now and then with NO problem.

this place offers me none of that.

on the bad days, i still feel like there's not a place for me in this world--at least not one that offers a decent paycheck. i have to keep telling myself i'm wrong--that i just don't know any better 'cause no one around me has known any better. ppl in my family just work. my parents do things they love, but it just so happened that what they love is pretty well built into the existing socioeconomic structure.

still, telling myself i'm wrong and trying reroute my circuitry is the only way to stay motivated enough to go out there and find what i'm looking for: the stepping stone that will allow me to get to a place where i can work for myself & for my people.

i can't give up.
the world needs me, or i wouldn't be here, right?

i chose this destiny.
time to pimp it out.

little victories

my "veggie" lasagna from the cafe upstairs was full of sausage.
but i got my money back & i didn't need the cheese anyway

my boss has issues. she needs to know that she ain't scarlett o'hara, and i ain't prissy.
but i'm on my way outta here

the new computer system here blows chunks.
see above

but...

the red plum nantucket nectar ain't bad.

i have peanuts to snack on.

it's a three day weekend.

and i'm happier than i've been in months.

so i guess that's enough to balance it all out.

mojuba obatala...adupe.
keep my head cool until i can make another way, baba, please...

i *heart* my womb

seriously.

women's intuition? that fury that hell hath not? all that love your mama gave you? it's all from the womb...

so...yeah.
this is something of a love letter.

this morning i had the AM off for a dentist appointment. so...after that, i got the oil changed, went out for one of my favorite breakfasts, had a lovely cup of tea...

and spent $60+ at staples buying all new pens/notebooks/etc.

why?

because since my computer crash long, long ago, my desk has become a catch all for random papers/receipts/madness. kitty's litterbox sits next to it underneath an end table.

horrible, i know.

i gave up on it, intending to have a new computer soon...
but "soon" turned into months...
and now it's...a pile of dead trees.
some important, some not.

i decided that between now & the weekend, i need to make a concerted effort to reclaim my desk.

i need to rename it, too. something like the dreamspace or spirit workshop...maybe even ground zero.

i got soulwork to do.

let me say: you have no idea how WEIRD/fantastic/silly/strange/beautiful/scary that is to me... but i know it's the truth.

and i have my womb to thank for it.
(a more-than-honorable mention goes to this book.)

there's a clarity that comes with my cycle. most people refer to it as pms, and it's seen as a very negative thing that needs to be drugged up and dismissed, post haste. my mood swings were famous, and i just told myself i was crazy along with everyone else. however, i think that thinking of my body and its processes in a more holistic, gyno-centric, and magical way over the last couple of years--not to mention being exposed more to like minded women & refocusing myself spiritually--i'm learning to reconvert that energy into the fire under my feet.

yes, i still get cramps. and headaches. and the wardrobe-killing bloating. but on the whole, my period is less about sitting around being weepy & sucking down chocolate and more about "ok. what's my status? what's my direction? what do i need?". it's a time where i become 100xs more aware of where i am/where i'm going/where i want to be.

when my womb starts acting up, it becomes the fire under my feet.

and i suppose that's what it's been all along...

so, thank you, womb. you're the best.

i wanna write

but the words don't come...
or get tangled in the synapses between my mind and my fingers

but i'm writing now,
right?

i suppose...but
everything feels like a half assed
half sketched rough draft of a
something partly finished

notebooks gathering dust on bookshelves
while i stick my nose in yet another book
out of the ideas of others
come papyrus iv's
keeping me alive
barely
as if i'm not creative enough on my own

but i ain't feelin myself these days...

fk.

i gotta
throw out all the old pens and pencils
file away books filled with last year's dreams
grab some sparkling multicolored pens
and plain old bics
notebooks thick with rainbow colored paper
& simple composition books
clean off my desk
and get to it.

dazed...

well, i came down with something last week, so i wasn't at work...finally got back to myself on saturday. well...i got my energy back at least.

had to come in here yesterday afternoon--and there was no one here.
came in my usual time this morning...

it's been a bit of a challenge readjusting to my usual schedule. and it's still not back to normal 'cause friday's a half day and we're off again on monday...

so...yeah.

i'm already planning for 2007, though. a lot of changes are coming and i gotta get all my ducks in a row.

i think that's all i really have to say at the moment. lol.

militant moment

it's afternoons like these when i think about the indignities my ancestors suffered just trying to make a living in this culture...

i reflect on the fact that one of my grandfather's best friends worked for decades at & retired from the post office 'cause he couldn't find work as a chemist...

the thousands of african women whose genius went unnoticed because "women don't do ___________"...and "nigger women DEFINITELY don't do _________."

when i make it--and i will--i'm sure that some here will marvel and think "i didn't know she could do THAT" or "i knew her 'when'"...

no, you didn't know me "when".
i always WAS.

your little brain just couldn't comprehend the vastness sitting at this desk.

i'm just gonna ramble for a minute...

if ya don't mind...

work's slowed quite a bit, so i've had more time to fool around on the lovely invention we call myspace. and i've been coming across some really interesting stuff...movies, music, etc.

to the media, myspace is the newest pedophile playground, the "it" thing for teens...

(no one was talking about e-pedophilia 11 years ago when i was 17 & the folks had just gotten a computer slick enough to handle the internet...hanging out in aol chatrooms, getting weird messages from creepy crawlies...but i digress)

...but for those of us in the 25 & older sect (pls excuse the party promotion lingo), myspace is also a way to link up with like minded folks: i've seen all kinds of activists, black & brown practioners of traditional/indigenous spirituality, folks pushing their art, organizations & individuals whose mission it is to educate & uplift their people.

leave it to the media to trivialize what has been and continues to be a means of spreading knowledge, ideas, creativity, and information.

yeah, there's two tons of bullshit floating around, too. and folks who take it far too seriously. the whole internet's like that.

it's all about what you make it, what you choose to focus on.

i like filling my sphere with poets, artists, dreamers...folks who know what it's like to be a star-shaped peg stuffed into a square hole.

ever since i watched rent the other night, "la vie boheme" has been running around in my head. some ppl look at me & automatically label me "boho", but in my mind, i've only lived on the fringes of boho-ness. yeah, i have the bookshelves full of books & the african decoration here & there, but as an artsy person? i'm something of a fraud.

maybe it's time i start surrounding myself with people who are creative all the time, not just when the office building doors open at 5pm.

i need to stock up on movies like rent and slam...even requiem for a dream. those sorts of images feed my drive to create something. make something out of the banality i'm handed most weekdays.

i think i want to be exposed to ppl living & loving their creativity, not shoving it in a box.

i should read more poetry.


today i am grateful for knowing when not to believe the hype.