short on patience

why do people want to monopolize my time?

i do one massage for someone, and now it's back to taking up whole weekends. i'm really not in the mood.

homegirl just doesn't understand that (1) i don't need/want a client base 30-45min away from me and (2) i'm glad she's doing her thing with her new business opportunity, but i really am not in a place where that's a factor or a goal for me.

one thing at a time.

i'm just trying to keep it together right now, and i don't need anything else on my plate that's not directly benefiting me & mine. maybe i'm nuts, but right now? making a few extra dollars here & there just isn't worth the time sacrifice for me.

the urge to say "no" to just about everyone becomes stronger by the day.

i can't tell if that's good or bad.

between the inconveniences of this car situation and problems w/ honey, i would really rather just get the hell out of dodge for awhile so i can simply think for a moment or three.

brightspot: despite everything that's happened between us lately, honey offered to give me the money for my massage exam....i was going to just bite the bullet and sign up at the end of the month, but now--as always--there are some bills i can't put off, and i need the money for those. so he stepped up.

that really opened a door. maybe, finally, we can begin to talk about these things and meet each other halfway. i think he's finally beginning to understand what i need from him.

i know he can't always give me this kind of money--and i wouldn't ask. but the fact that he can do this means that maybe he can hand out emotional "cash" as well.

things are still going to be fragile for awhile, but i'm grateful that he would be so generous.

with the financial worry out of the way, that still means i'm going to need a lot of my free time to get this studying done. and it's not going to be easy. essentially, i'll be giving myself a crash course of 13 months worth of material in about 3 months' time.

not my idea of fun. but i need this to be a one-shot deal.

brightspot #2: i may be getting a raise. i could definitely use it...especially since i'll need to start saving for next year's move.

so if i can stay sane long enough to reap all the benefits, the next few months might actually turn out ok.

but right now i'm just feeling short-tempered, frustrated, and muddied. i just want some time to myself to work it all out.

new challenge: getting a new computer so i can write/work at home again. fleshing out ideas at work really cannot be done much anymore, and i need space to create. but i don't need another monthly bill right now, either.

decisions, decisions.

guess i'm an official baltimorean.

i was present for an armed robbery in high school....

last night, my car was broken into.

ignition torn out.

apparently no one told dude you can't hotwire cars in 2005. but at least he knew enough of what he was doing not to have to break my window.

took all the cds out of my car door pockets--most of them were empty, but he damn sure got me for my esthero. ugh.

didn't get the case of cds under my driver's seat. ashe!

there also wasn't much change in the car. didn't go in the trunk. registration & tags still intact. not a scratch on it except for the fucked up ignition/steering column and the mess he made of my glove compartment. ashe-o.

and if any of you reading remember, i just got this car in april.

yeah.

did i mention the rental looks almost exactly like my old car?

i feel like i'm in groundhog day....

there is so much i wish i could get off my chest right now, it's ridiculous.

i've been in the middle of a lot of conflict, a lot of emotions, and a lot of upheaval. and i'm still waiting to see where the chips will fall.

relationship...
i'm back to that donnie hathaway entry...i don't want to walk away. but i don't know how to work things out, either. i think we should just chill out for a minute, come back with a fresh perspective. but as usual, i can't get any flexibility or understanding.

sometimes i think he may feel the same way about me.

the difference is that when i bend over backwards, it's seen/felt/heard.
when he does it, he winds up a legend in his own mind. and i'm none the wiser.

i'm tired of repeating myself, beating dead horses, spinning my wheels.

something's gotta give.
is it us?
something else?

why do we keep hitting this wall?
is this really meant to be?
what's the lesson we're missing?

we can't even come to an agreement on the best route to take to resolve this thing. seems like he's got something to prove--possibly to himself--but i don't. i just want my needs met, or to be left alone if that can't happen.

i need some "me" time. breathing room.

lately it seems the only thing we have in common is the fact that we love one another. but that--in the long run--is never enough. not by itself.

job...
just found out that i might be up for a raise. so send some positive energy on that one. i sure could use it.

...but i'm still on that good 2 yr plan.


i'm overwhelmed.

goodbye, summer

the impending equinox is really messing with me. ugh.

either way, i get the feeling i need to be really careful what i say/do over the next couple of days, 'cause i could get myself into trouble if i'm not.

i can see that the next year or so is going to be one filled with decisions, crossroads, and choices....

well. might as well bring it on.

nothing to it but to do it, right?

the 9-5 blues (revisited. again.)

i went to anoint my 3rd eye this morning...

ok. before i sound like a total dweeb...whenever i put fragrance oil, i touch a bit to my 3rd eye area. i've found that it lessens the likelihood of tension headaches and other mostly-energetic physical problems.

anyway, when i touched the oil there, there was an intense burning sensation....like someone set my forehead on fire.

that's never happened before. i'm thinking that maybe it has something to do with the yoga practice freeing up some energy and/or moving it to the appropriate places. i feel straighter, lighter, more energetic...and a full moon's due on sunday.

part of this, too, is the sensitivity that comes with a change in seasons. i always feel much more in tune with the rhythms of the planet in those times.

at least i feel comfortable in my clothes today. i wish i could have kept my hair covered. i wore a tam on the way in, and i'll be wearing it when i leave. i feel the need to construct a layer around me....not that i feel threatened; just something about the energy around me today. i feel the need to contain or use it somehow.

i even put my cowries on around my ankle.
i wish i could have meditated this morning.

at least i got up early enough--thanks to the damn cat--to make a decent breakfast. scrambled tofu, toast w/ grape jam, and veggie sausage.

(maybe later i'll get into how he's tearing up the carpet outside my bedroom door trying to get in every morning...sigh)

i want to write
dance
sing
even bodywork.
something free or representative of freedom.

but i'm stuck here for quite awhile.

on another note: i snatched my brother's gamecube and now am totally engrossed in resident evil 4. this is why i refuse to buy a gaming system of my own...

i love this man

dearest tim,

thank you.

signed,

omi

sex & spirit

i got thru about 1/2 of this book last night.

it's a sin & a shame that women in this country--especially those who are not descended from western traditions--have been relegated to silence & pity when it comes to their bodies and their sexuality.

if you're anything like i've been my entire life, you probably hear Goddess calling to you.

She has many faces and many forms. only you can know which one is speaking to and through you. the imbalance has been accepted for too long, and She's making Herself known. ashe!

answer Her, despite what you've been told. fuck all the dogma. throw out your preconceived notions.

She is real, and She has a rightful place among the Original spirits of the earth. hell, She IS the Earth.

She has wonderful things to teach you. let Her in.

other books i've found helpful when in need of some spiritual reclamation:

women who run with the wolves by clarissa pinkola estes

sacred woman by queen afua...you can buy it thru her website

opening to spirit by caroline shola arewa

daughters of africa anthology

peace & Goddess' blessings

:-)

katrina has me reeling

when the shocking and awing started on my 25th birthday, i laid in bed next to my love and cried.

i don't have cnn. i hadn't watched the news coverage, but something in my soul shifted. the air changed. and i could feel myself becoming one of those iraqis...i could hear/see/feel the world fall apart underneath them.

i knew then that every test we'd been given since 9/11, we'd failed.

and we're still failing.

we don't have time for the bullshit. we've got to get it together. hold our politicians accountable. be real with ourselves.

the ancestors are screaming for understanding and god is not pleased.

this country's got some fucked up karma to deal with, and what's happening in new orleans is just the beginning.

you can relate it to biblical prophecy (i don't, per se) or anything else you want. i don't believe we're in the "last days" as human beings, but america's place in the world is most certainly destined to erode. like rome, great britain, japan....all the great imperialists humbled either by nature or their "subjects".

rome wasn't built in a day, but what they don't remember (or like) to tell you is that it didn't fall in a day, either.

if you do believe in the biblical progression of things, well, there are many historical events/eras that also fit the bill. pick one. there were many who felt they lived in the "last days", yet, here we are.

we should know by now that if the future's laid out for us, it can be changed. look deeper. read between the lines.

let's get on determining our destiny instead of humming our action away in the pews on sunday morning.

gotta figure out where you stand.

when the ship starts to sink, are you going to be with your people (the women, the poor, the children, the non-white, the non-straight, the powerless, the meek), or with "your" country?

there are many questioning their security tonight.

may those we've lost rest in peace.
may those who remain be unashamed to tell the story.
modupe ogun...the warrior lives in ray nagin.
and may we all learn our lessons and keep them close. especially at election time.

ashe
ashe
ashe-o

peace.

couldn't say it any better than donnie....

Giving up is hard to do
When you really love someone
Giving up .... so hard to do
When you still depend upon
Her warm and tender touch
Her kiss and her hug..........her caress
Oooooh that used to mean so much
And bring you happiness
Woooo ooooooooh

Giving up, so hard to do
I've tried
But it just ain't no use
Giving up, so hard to do
I said I've tried
But it just ain't no use
But my light of hope is burning dim
But
But in my heart I pray
That my love and faith in the girl
My love...will bring her back someday

I'm talking 'bout when you really love someone

Whether
Whether she knows or not
She really needs me too
The little girl is all I got
Yes she is
And giving, giving up is hard to do
Giving up
So hard to do
Heey...giving up
So very hard to do
I said I've tried
Hey, but I just can't get loose
Giving up
So hard for me to do
I don't want to lose you
Cause you mean so much to me

i haven't given up the fight yet.

but damned if i ain't tired.

if you don't quite "get it" at work

this guy might have the answer.

i was so moved, i cut out this part and put it in my wallet/calendar where i stow away inspirational tidbits from time to time:

In the end, it’s a question of how you accommodate to the horror that is office life. The communists and leftists can’t save you. You’re stuck with this system, its grinding gears inescapable.

If, like me, you go to work each morning and sit in front of a desk, you belong in the professional lineage of Sisyphus, the mythical figure damned to roll a massive boulder up a mountain, only to do it all over again when the rock rolls back down. After all, do you really make any substantial difference from your cubicle? Even if you carry a lot of weight in your office, does it matter, in the big picture, if you move 10 percent more units this quarter than the last? For anyone living a conscious life, office culture inevitably brings the onset of a mild sort of existential despair. Call it the blahs if you’d like: What am I doing? Am I just flushing 40 hours a week down the toilet? And unless you’re a heart surgeon or something, the answer is generally a resounding “yes.”

But you need that paycheck. You need those benefits. Your only hope, then, is to live in the moment, keep at it as an animal might, with consciousness tethered securely to the present. Don’t think about pushing that rock back up the mountain, about the brown-nosing yes-men eclipsing you, about the dehumanizing nonsense that presses in on every side, the petty tyrants in upper management using you as a salve for their shabby, wounded egos. Shut all that out. Just keep at it, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, moving cell by cell across that endless spreadsheet.

while i'm not nearly as resigned as the author is by the end of the article (i'd be more likely to tell the reader, "bide your time. save your money. then get out (c) the amityville horror") i totally see where he's coming from.

not all of us are made for this. and that's ok.

but i think we should cause a rebellion vs. lying down and taking it.

see srini for a more serious take on the issue (...and buy some stickers!!! or make your own!!!).

...oh and, um

somebody needs to slap the taste out of pat robertson's mouth.

he is the worst possible face of christianity. too bad his comments are worthy of news articles and not just the ramblings of a backwoods county preacher.

talkin' loud...

i have to get focused. now's the time to really start thinking about what i'm going to be doing for the next 5 years or so. i have to get some shit together. organize my thoughts. regroup.

i've been saying this for the past, oh, 2 years or so. blah.

i have some kind of creative stall going...things will start, sputter out, then stop...engine won't start like it should...it's just a mess. examples:

7.27.05
citywatch...
who's watching the city?*

want to prevent crime?
try raising children in something
other than a system...

blue lights
mask starlight
make ppl already in cages
see their fate more clearly

tangible evidence
they're out to get
you/us/we

responsibility
is a two way street.

(*someone came up with the bright idea to install "smart" cameras on various corners in the city. you know, instead of re-opening the rec centers or getting rid of abandoned houses. more lockdown. let's not talk about the multi-million dollar hotel going up on the taxpayer dime...)


8.17.05
alice walker wrote of
africans with waist-length hair...

today a blog revealed
only crazy alcoholic africans
carry locs now

what a brilliant job colonialism has done
to make ppl despise
their very skin
the hair that grows from their heads...

even without the rape of resources
the battle is won;
too many minds taken
after the bodies fell.


...yeah. stuff like that. i scribbled out another fragment in my dream journal last night. it was the only paper around. i didn't want to go out and grab my usual notebook 'cause i was afraid the cat would creep back in. he's still a little too energetic to sleep in the room with me, and i didn't wanna have to fight him to get him back out.

to his credit, he will let me sleep for a few hours at a time. but that's about all.

well. i suppose i should do something resembling work. although that will be difficult when i can't seem to clear my mind....

dreamers dreaming

of course it was difficult getting up this morning....cloudy and peaceful. the rain hit the tree outside my window just right--gently enough to fade into dreams, but loud enough to have a soothing, spiritually fulfilling rhythm.

but i was also in the midst of a dream...someone was speaking to me, giving me information. i didn't want to pull myself away, but i had to get up. after hitting the snooze button a few times, i had to "politely" (although it never stops feeling like i'm committing some horrid sin of rudeness) excuse myself.

these dreams are both fascinating and frustrating. i wake up very disoriented--i'm always listening intently--and it's very difficult to remember what was said and, often, who was saying it.

the exceptions to this rule are the shaman and the council dreams.

in the council dreams, i'm floating around these "conference rooms", looking thru what appears to be frosted glass. there are figures in a room, and i'm eavesdropping on their gathering. the participants don't seem human, and i can never quite make out what they're saying or doing. it's the energy that attracts me; there's not a feeling that i'm violating anyone's space. it's more like i'm invited there somehow.

at some point, i'm whisked off to another "meeting" and look down on that for awhile. i have them every now and then...i haven't figured out the trigger for those as i have w/ the shaman. any of you experienced dreamers/interpreters out there who wanna help out, i'm all ears.

in other news, i'll be looking thru old(er) poetry and posting as necessary. so all that stuff you see in the "archives" is really new....i just catalog them by the date they were written, not the date i post them on.

peace & light, y'all.

enjoy the weekend :-)

to miss you

You don't know how lips hurt
Until you've kissed and had to pay the cost
Until you've flipped your heart and you have lost
You don't know what love is...

You don't know how hearts burn
For love that cannot live yet never dies
Until you've faced each dawn with sleepless eyes
You don't know what love is
~~jazz standard made popular by billie holiday

(penned on 12.7.2004)

your absence
is conspicuous
an uneven thread
running thru my nights

belly stays
tied up in
twisted thoughts

anticipating

maybe
he’ll call
today/tonight/this afternoon

it will be different
then...
he’ll be there
he’ll claim me
prove me wrong

i can only exhale
when you finally arrive
and
in a moment of honesty
reveal how much
you’ve missed me:
kiss me lightly or
stroke my face

and
as soon
as you creep away
the knots
return

i am paranoid
your early morning bathroom trips
often misconstrued
as abbreviated farewells

i never know
your schedule
because you never know
where you’re going or
who you might meet
in the mirror

i am
tired
of your glossy surface sanity
and your lone wolf dance

i can keep busy
and tell myself
i’m not waiting
for your call
but the pain
keeps coming
radiating thru my center
pulsing with each
passing hour
i wait
for you.

you are
sorely missed
but won’t allow yourself
to be needed.

my attempts to love you
feel in vain
hopelessly romantic
or just plain foolish

this used to feel like home
now it’s more of an empty nest

our relationship
has not produced
children

the foundation i thought
would give rise to
great things
simply is
no more and
no less than

i don’t
hate you
but
i can’t love you this way.

(c) 2005 l.a.m.

had to share this

taken from the goddess room

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I
wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.

Please repost this if you believe homophobia is wrong.

making "the switch"

i've decided to bounce over here from diaryland, so i'm picking & choosing some of my favorites to come over here with me....i think i want to make this space more poetry/creativity oriented...i can always ramble on myspace.

we are surrounded by anonymity

(posted over here yesterday...
apparently i started it 6 months ago to the day. just found it & added on...not really a poem, but...something to consider.)

woman on the train today
brown skin
matted hair in back
some braids in front
one or two locs sticking out
black tam
bracelet on wrist w/ barcode
pink plastic bracelets…for decoration
sleeping
clean
folded in on herself
bag under her elbow

where’s she going?
where’d she come from?

i’ve seen her again since
…feel compelled to write her story
but where would i begin?

does it begin as a baby
not loved/wanted on some level

it could have been a grown-up heartbreak
rather than misplaced younggirl dreams
stepped on by well-intentioned shoes

could have been anything.

she could be anyone.

a glimpse of me

(penned 7.23.04, but no less true today)

i am still that little girl who cried for 6 years over her dead doggie/ who couldn’t bring herself to fight her tormentors ‘cause she could feel their pain// learned to cover with black girl bravado and sly smiles...// most days i’m still crying ‘cause i know how sick the homeless guy on the corner is or the loneliness of the lady next to me on the subway without wanting or trying to


that girl fought demons by night / saw ghosts walk sidewalks by day / read myths and encyclopedias trying to find herself ‘cause no one in her world matched up// went to bed with fingers cramped from writing instead of atari ‘cause her fingers couldn’t keep up with the universe spinning in her mind


i’m still her// but i learned she’s not normal / so i hid her / cut her up / stuffed her in hefty bags and left her for dead// yet...her bones stir and grate against the ones i’ve grown// i’m a false idol built over a true god

how am i supposed to make a living out of that?

wow...this is still here.

hmmm....

maybe i should do something with it? the big switch?

i dunno.

i'm still thinking about it.

untitled (issues)

i want to say
something like
"i don't use
band-aids!
...i bleed thru penstrokes and
make pages drip lifewater!"

but
it sounds far too cliche
... and these days?
i fear those
more than anything.

the world is in serious need
of innovation
there are already
too many cycles
too much history
too many people
repeating...

i always wonder
if i'm part of the solution
or perpetuating the problem.

i mean,
def poetry jam
makes everyone old enough to
stay up past midnight
wannabe a poet

every hussla's the next jay-z

get shot and you're an instant ja rule
maybe even a pac or biggie-style martyr

i write 'cause i have to.
there's no goal or destination,
no record deal or cd comp--
i just do this.
automatically.
...universal ticker tape machine
running off emotional dividends
and updates on the worth of the ancestors
(refreshed daily for someone's conveinence)

so i won't really start in on
the beauty of my nubian people
the merits and/or bullshit of pussy poems or
late night thoughts of wrist-slitting and angst.

i just want to know
if any of these words have a purpose
and constantly consider
the validity
of the messenger.

(c) 2005 l.a.m.