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???

Wants Needs Desires Clarifications

They tell me I don't know what I want....they are right in that sense, but I definitly know what I don't want. I don't want a ready made family, I don't want someone they'll love me forever, then after 7 years I can't get a return phone call, I don't want to have a 2 day discussion on wants, needs, past lives, and long walks--fuck that, life is to be enjoyed at some point right?

I know that I want my sister to get well, get healty, get some backbone about her, to be able to say fuck the world, I don't want that right now, then turn around a hour or day later and say, now, I want it. I need for her to come back and get this household, this is the road she has chosen and for the "right" reasons, I chose to be her driver for a undisclosed amount of time...now that's fucked, and I've done it to my self once again.

Let's talk about wants, what I want. I want a honest Black woman who knows herself enough to love herself, and work on what she may perceive as faults; I want a Black woman with no kids!!!!! This is very important to me because I want to travel down a road with that woman, and when a bump comes along I want both of us to feel it equally new; not oh well she knows this bump because she's had a previous child--no fuck that, that puts me in a position of being secondary. I know that children come first, I know this very well because for 7 fuckin' years I allowed myself to be second in a relationship with a woman who had a child, and that child came 1st, not me, not the relationship I had with her mother, not her mother (to a certain extent), but the child. And it's fucked up that after all I tried to do to make the shit work, in the 11th hour, I gave up, gave in, threw in the towel when she told me to go and I fuckin' went! So a bit bitter are we, you're damn right, am I over this ... hell naw!!!...would I like a second chance, at this point I say yes, because we did get along very well, but trust has become such an overiding factor, that I'm not sure if it would really fuckin' work---again...

Now let's talk about the other one who has replaced her on the rebound. Same situation, granted I don't live with her, but I know how unconditional love is and the power behind it and she is lackin' if she thinks she's close to loving me unconditionally the way she thinks. Two kids, both under 10, spoiled, not brattie, but undisciplined. Do I want to step in that situation and be the discipliner--not really; do they have fathers, one does who is in the life, but I don't know him, and can that whole thing really be trusted....ummmm, maybe, but I'm on the fence with that. Plus she's like me in the sense of the art thing, and we clash on a lot. Situation with my sister--clash, situation with my sister's manfriend--clash, situation with my homie, my ace--clash, situation with my lifestyle--somewhat of a clash. She's not comfortable in spots where I feel I can be most relaxed--small space, filled with smoke, and liquor pouring freely...that's me, love it, like it or hate it to your core--that's me, that's how I can get a day off my ass, I like people who are honest, well honest enough over a few drinks, and some smoke. I don't like the fact that I have to curb that side of me...fuck that. Another clash is I don't really think that she understands the hood side of me, yea I say nigga and bytch freely, fuck without cause, fart without reason, smoke like a chimney, and will talk to anyone who will listen, from the senator to the homeless...fuck it, that's me. We argued the other day behind a blog I put up, and stated that I loved people and missed people, and yes, I was referring to my x but nothing was real clear, and there was nothing in there that stated that I wanted to get back with her...that leads to her being pissed and me thinking, well better not bring her back up...then last nite she tells me some real personal shit, which reminds me of some real personal shit, in which she didn't understand the magnitude of it but oh well....

and then went off into this whole Islam culture experience thing. Now the thing with Islam and me is this: I respect the religion and people who use it a lot. I do this because I've seen it work where Christianity has failed. And I have an idea of the closeness when it comes to the people involved; now even though she's not practing the religion, she at one time did. Now I have this concept of Islam women being very docile, and she has seemed docile to me in many instances. This has been a concern of mine. Another concern was the way she broke down the fact that people are looking at me; this does bother me because I am private. Now I'll put some shit out, but it won't be out and just open where people are like oh, damn, so that's the biz...no don't believe in doing that, but I don't like being under anyone's scope, and kids have their own scope which is another reason I don't like previous kids to be there because there's always a comparison or the good ole you ain't my daddy thing. Back to the Islam thing. I feel that she thinks that I'm conscious and really into the culture, and I'm not saying that I'm not, but I've only dug into Islam briefly, and with the brief understanding that I have, she really should of called me out on A LOT of stuff, and she didn't/hasn't, which made me feel like shit, so I apologized, and felt shitty like I shouldn't touch her or be having sex with her, because at one time these were her beliefs, and any beliefs are really strong so why not call me out and make me wait, or something....it just doesn't feel right. Is it the docile thing like she should do and respect what her man says or is it something like if she doesn't then she might lose me, like I said I apologized because I felt stupid, and I felt like I've disrespected a part of her that maybe she doesn't recognize and should--at least I think. That's the issue, understand it or not, it's who I am.

Perceive the Nature (not for all, but meant for one)

Says this page
reads like an
open book;
is it
fact,
or
fiction?
Who is to say
for no one is
really,
that close—
unless they're
impatient.
Don't fall victim
to visions
monikers portray—
some things are
just an act.
Please accept apologies
for the unintended
action;
sometimes scribes
lose sight to
the strength of words
and
silence.
The book may be open
yet not every
chapter is known,
hate writing
code for one,
so
I.L.U.
with apologies to
the one who
loves
Martha Stewart.....