Done

Well, since no one checks this blog, and it can come to a semblance of truth here it is.

I've resigned to die. There is nothing that I can humanly do to assist my family. My sister has no pride, and is a leech, with no idea of what appreciation is. Her children are much the same--except maybe Briana. We share this house by birthright; a "gift" from my dead father. Shortly before his death, he told me not to let my sister take this house from me. It is with some regret that I release this possession to her. Since I have moved back I have had to keep 2 jobs just to keep the bills paid. Because she is able to receive food stamps there is food every night. I am not used to this kind of gravelling. She is a cist, much like one you might find on an ovary. I have depleted my savings in attempting to help her sorry ass in this situation.

I need no assistance in fucking up my life, but this city has assisted me greatly in doing just that. In 2006, I left the state, skipping out on a probation that stemmed from the previous year, along with my father's death. Because of that when I returned in 2008 to help my sister I had to spend 30 days in jail. Due to the fact that my job in Atlanta fired me, I had to resort to working as a cashier for minimum wage before swallowing my pride and taking a job with Omaha Public Schools as a paraprofessional--a position that I am over-qualified for. Beyond that, my community involvement led me to a busted relationship with a off balanced woman who supposedly miscarried my child. And to top off the "sundae" I met a very nice woman who has kids--not my preference; got involved with here--not good; and had to end it today because she was catching too many feeling--i'm done.

So it's Christmas time, I have no part time job because my car is down, and I'll hopefully have $200 after repairs and gifts until the 15th.

If I am able to get myself another part time job, I will move out, enjoy it for about a month, buy myself a gun, and be done. I'm cool on living, I hope to find peace in my next life.

The S Lamb

obligated—
to be human, to care, to
give of self; satisfying
the needs
of others.
without this obligation—
one is deemed to be
selfish.

if your sister’s house
catches fire,
you’re obligated
to save the lives;
if your community
becomes consumed by corruption,
you’re obligated
to show a more
righteous path;
if your lover
screams in the night
because of a nightmare,
you’re obligated
to hold them until
the shaking stops, causing reassurance.

life lived on a path
of self-less-ness; assisting
all until your reflection
dissipates,
and your obligations,
stand strong.
am i not
my brothers and sister’s
keeper?

....relations....con't

and i guess, it is what it is. As I sit in my "room", basement dwelling, I don't feel connected to this anymore--whatever this is. Part of this is Dee, part of it Omaha, part of it poetry, part of it the world. I am ready to retreat. Retreat back to some other place, some other time where happiness was. I don't know where or when, but I'm ready to go.

Dee is cool, real cool, but it is temporary, and I can feel that she is coming to that realization, and fighting it every step of the way. What really drew me to her was the fact that we would move at my pace. But we hopped in the sack with a erection in her mouth, and that was my mistake as well...I should have kept it more friendly and not so sexual; because the sex comes and then stronger emotions come soon after that. And that is what it is, it's fucked up.

Now Omaha is and always will be home. But as Bugs Bunny said..."it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there." And that's what it is. I knew that I didn't want to be here for an extended time after I graduated. Atlanta is so much more progressive. The people there know things for what they are, and create their own, support their own, and enjoy it for what it is. Even on a slow night, we gonna have our liquor, our weeed, perform for 10 or 12, like there's 100 or 200.--and boy do i miss that! It seems that since I have this knowledge or experience I should be able to transfer, transform, and manifest that energy here into a viable scene. I can't be responsible for that. It now seems that everything I touch turns to mud.

And the poetry is leaving. I write, yea, but it seems more and more like bullshit. Not like poetic bullshit, just basic bullshit. It seems like I used to post good stuff, impressive stuff, but now, it's all bullshit...hell I ain't proud of it, but I guess I'll have to keep doing it for now....embrace my elderness...yea right. i'm good

hmm....

What can be said...decisions, decisions, decisions....In 95, things were so clear; I thought I would go to school, become a teacher, and hit the road on weekends...yea right!

So, I'm a good 7 years removed from living in Omaha (the 2002 adventure) and really more like 14 years removed from living and being a part of this community. However, this time, I'm an adult, and with responsibility, and with a job. Progressive is not a word I would use to describe this city.

There is something about self-hate and self loathing in and of this city. Now being "Black" I have done much to exercise the hate from my self. I believe it began early in life with books introduced from my mother, a cd and book of speeches by Malcolm X from my father, and the introduction of poetry from my 8th grade English teacher Ms. Mobley. However in all the research and reading that I have done, I have not been able to apply the theories to this situation.

There is something about lifting up the mainstream, and not loving the stream of Omaha. Now I will be the first to admit, there are many talented people here; buisiness people, educators, artist, writers, and muscians. However, Omahans will spend $30-$100 a ticket for a national artist, but won't spend $10 for a show of local acts. It is amazing; we complain, but won't go to our mayor, or city council, or protest by any means. We support locally very little, but continue to drown in this mainstream.

Now this delima has me all in knots. Should I stay and fight the good fight, the fight for these people to love themselves, or go on, leave and begin my life--find a wife, get a house and have some kids. Lately the lean has been 365 more days ... and that being from late May/early June.

All I can really say in retrospect is that I have done the work, I have continued the fight, but I am not sure if I can be the leader, if one will rise up from this rubble. It is what it is.

....its just hell

and once again its on....i'm on some bullshit, and the bullshit is on me. this city has gotten the best of me...the best part of my life is definitely behind me. i'm not feelin' doin' this this anymore....poetry, music, activism. it's a cycle...and i'm on that downturn. i know that my environment has definitely gotten the best of me, and i'm not seein' the positivity.

now d, is cool and all, but it ain't perfection by any means. she's a mommy, and that's the last thing i need, want or desire. don't mommy me, i am tired of being a motherfucker, and right now i wouldn't mind laying next to a pregnant wife in a house that we were both paying on waiting on our 1st or 2nd child...but that is really a big fuckin' pipe dream...that shit just ain't gonna happen.

i'll never escape omaha...i'll be in this fuckin' house till jr. graduates..hell probaly till maya graduates at the rate my sister is going. this is truly some disasterous shit. i should of never come back. i am so unhappy right now...my mood is just absolutely terrible. i shouldn't of been so hard on d, but hell i just want to be alone for awhile...i'll post my lately written poem in a new blog...this blog just a new post....

omaha is just hell.

D.......

I want to
be able to
verbally express those
three little words—
freely.
Unfortunately,
past experience &
learned history,
taught me to
close that side of me.
Those three are
building blocks
to a foundation
of a linear time-frame
laymen call…
forever.
So please forgive
me,
because the last time
I believed in forever
it only lasted 7 ½ years.
Admittance:
I don’t want to hurt you
because of your past life
I don’t have that right.
I’m not mad at you,
or I,
enjoyed every experience
we’ve shared,
from sunny days
to marathon midnights.
And so true
this space is
killing me too,
however some things,
I have to emotionally remove
before I get
caught up & lose sight
of my running shoes.
Like it not,
I’ve involved myself
with you, in you, to you
and slighting part of yourself
to sacrifice for me
is beautiful and ugly,
at the same time,
in the same breath.
Those three words
are a
double edged sword;
you are my sista,
Not my whore—
and I don’t want to do
anything,
to abuse your core.
So I thank-you
for the space, & the
grace you’ve given
me,
unabashedly.

family frustrations

For some reason, I feel like I should start this post like Catholics do and say “It’s been 5 months since my last confession….” But that just ain’t me. I am frustrated and frazzled, too upset to even really write, so excuse me if this sucks just a bit.

I’ve been in Omaha for just over a year now, and I can feel the stress and pressure so much that I’m relieved. You may ask how is that even possible….well, when one crumbles, another pile on top of the pile really does not matter. However on the bright side, I did complete the majority of a school year as a paraprofessional, made a difference in the lives of some youth, and career-wise, things are showing quite the positive possibility. But in the life I have with all things, the balance is quite lopsided—the personal life is definitely fucked…..

Today (Saturday), I come home from work at 11:15, and my almost 1 year old niece is crawling around unattended with a half asleep 8 year nephew…..problem—yea! And to top that off, the kitchen and dining room area, is in utter disarray. I am attempting to breath, now 4 hours later. I have never witnessed stress on this level.

I was forced a year ago to come back to this dwelling that my father left me because my problem riddled lazy sister had a melt-down and made a damn good attempt at suicide. I’ve since gotten past the point of hoping she would of succeeded. My new niece seems to be healthy and on track, but she’s not walking yet, and has only said “ma-ma” clearly—a part of me is worried that she has been effected by the anti-freeze my sister took in attempting to commit suicide. I am worried about my sister, because at 37, a part of her just won’t get it. She has not worked in a year, and depends on me like depends diapers. She now has 3 children that are her biological responsibilities, and they are not making the head-ways I would like to see them make—they are lazy, messy, and irresponsible.

For whatever reason her children have picked up on both of our worst habbits. Now both my sister and I both suffer from shyness, but I have dealt with mine on stage, and off in my virtual world of being “nabraska”—poet extrodinare, but my sister never found an outlet like that. Now my niece has fallen prey to this wonderful discourse, and it has already made and effect—she will receive a D in journalism for her final grade of her 8th grade year. And my nephew, well he suffers from being a bully and a very selfish human being. I am very afraid that they will carry these traits throughout life if not something drastic happens.

This is why I’m placing all my hopes on Korea, Korea, Korea. I know and understand that time is not on my side. Failed in a relationship that seemed to be my only hope for happiness, and here I am on the only place on the planet where I’ll catch a disease quicker than the woman I want, need and desire. But that’s it for now…more rants when time permits.

Conjecture in an N I (Double G) A

Why should I
believe—
in them??
Unmotivated, lazy,
immature, irresponsible ass….
Relies on every excuse
in the book
from being pre-judged,
to
being bi-polar;
refuse to rise to the mirror,
and take a hard look—

….You really expect me to
believe in this…..?

Think they’re
“doin’ it, doin’ somethin’”,
by “husslin’”,
“gettin’ ova’”
on
“their own people”.
From 3 card Monty
to crack cocaine;
(game recognize game)
callin’ on
Family
when they need help—
hole to big to climb from.

Help Your Damn Self.

Before Emancipation—
slaves,
a commodity:
(an article of trade or commerce; any unprocessed or partially processed good)
and work:
(exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something; labor)
a commodity;
free labor, not an oddity,
yet ever since
“gettin’ some free,”
the slave became
“them”, (n i (double g) a)
with a crutch

Someone owes me,
so lazy I’ll be,
refuse to work,
no longer will be a
commodity; I’ll
show them…
and hustle these streets…
No hand-ups,
just
hand-outs;
for they feel disenfranchised,
without
registering to vote…..

So don’t holla
reparations,
unless you overstand
more’n just the boat;
more’n just the
strange fruit
hangin’ from that rope;
more’n being broke;
more’n that FBI COINTELPRO
supported dope;
more’n these coping
mechanisms
community members manifest
every time
they
beggin’, borrowin’, emotionally/spiritually/financially destitute, state supported,
triflin’ ignorant, beastly asses,
come ‘round.

Why,
should I
believe?

Ain’t they
just like me?
Mistakes behind trees,
a drink at the end of
the week—
have not I too creeped?
True indeed. However,
lessons’ been learned,
don’t continue to
take those same
self-depredating turns;
may be my sista/brotha’s keeper
however,
if he continues to choose
to keep traveling that circle
of fire—
then I am forced to
let that ass burn.
Didn’t really want to
do it,
but if you think this world
owes you something….
then think again.—
You’ve gotta put
something in,
to get
something out.
Dumb ass.

Why should I
believe in a
n I (double g) A???