it's sunday again, and i'm back. another sunday in another month. i write in other places everyday, just not this place. i want to. some things get the best of me. i have been working on a variety of creative projects. i am trying to get involved in a show that is coming up this summer. they want everything: a cd of your work, a dvd, everything. i have them, so i will get it together this week.
nana is great. i love being married, and i feel so blessed. it is no way easy being married. it is however, beautiful. he is my best friend, my lover, my ultimate challenger. i love people who are not afraid to challenge me.....in a healthy way of course.
i look forward to the possibility of a black president of the usa. can you believe it? do you want to believe it? i don't care, because i want to believe it. this is gonna be good. ralph nader needs to stop playing himself and taking away vital votes. can't he be banned at this point? ugh. anyhow, let's go obama! and hillary, take your lying ass back to your "fairy-tale" slaying husband.
back to work tomorrow. i kind of miss my students. let's see what happens tomorrow. their assignment was 2 book reports, using the format assigned. hmmm, i wonder who will actually come in with those reports tomorrow....definitely Zadi, Jajaira, Danisha and Katia.....everyone else is a question mark. ahhh, the struggles of a teacher in new york city.
anyhow, my husband looks bored.
i'm gone for now.
peace & nappiness
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Round One
there are many things i can say, or even begin to say, but i won't say it now. instead, i will allow you to discover things on your own, whether you want to or not. if you decide to visit this page, it may be because you know me, and you are interested in what it is i have to say. where do i begin?
revolution. i love it and i need it. obama took south carolina yesterday, and the minstrels had to pack away their doubts. i was happy. happy that for a change, some black people somewhere were not afraid to unveil the mask or the veil, or whatever the hell is covering our faces. i wear a veil sometimes. not because i want to, but because i have to. sometimes i want to take the veil and shove it down someone's throat. perhaps the throat of the priviledged frat boy who sits next to me on the subway, heading to his wall street gig, as i head to a ghetto in brooklyn to teach 8th graders english. why do i teach english? is it because i am a writer/poet? do i just call myself that? who knows. most of the time, i feel as if i am innately a writer. i have a book sitting in my living room in a cheap staples binder. i wrote it. is it published? no. do i want it to be? maybe. no. yes i do. of course i do. will being published by a big fancy company make me less of a writer? less of a poet? will it make me a sellout? i kind of like being vivaldo? if you don't know who i'm talking about, read james baldwin's "another country". i'm not asking you, im telling you to read it.
i kind of dig this blogging thing. i used to blog consistently for a year on another site. now i'm back. a whole new me. married, mature, and mixed up in blackness. so yeah, obama stepped to the crowd and said: "i want to say thanks to the rock of my life-michelle obama." isn't it beautiful to hear a black woman praised by a presidential hopeful? that was a great moment for me, no matter what happens on super tuesday. fuck tuesday, let's talk about sundays. i love sundays, because they are easy, just like lionel richie said.
until the next time, or the next round....
revolution. i love it and i need it. obama took south carolina yesterday, and the minstrels had to pack away their doubts. i was happy. happy that for a change, some black people somewhere were not afraid to unveil the mask or the veil, or whatever the hell is covering our faces. i wear a veil sometimes. not because i want to, but because i have to. sometimes i want to take the veil and shove it down someone's throat. perhaps the throat of the priviledged frat boy who sits next to me on the subway, heading to his wall street gig, as i head to a ghetto in brooklyn to teach 8th graders english. why do i teach english? is it because i am a writer/poet? do i just call myself that? who knows. most of the time, i feel as if i am innately a writer. i have a book sitting in my living room in a cheap staples binder. i wrote it. is it published? no. do i want it to be? maybe. no. yes i do. of course i do. will being published by a big fancy company make me less of a writer? less of a poet? will it make me a sellout? i kind of like being vivaldo? if you don't know who i'm talking about, read james baldwin's "another country". i'm not asking you, im telling you to read it.
i kind of dig this blogging thing. i used to blog consistently for a year on another site. now i'm back. a whole new me. married, mature, and mixed up in blackness. so yeah, obama stepped to the crowd and said: "i want to say thanks to the rock of my life-michelle obama." isn't it beautiful to hear a black woman praised by a presidential hopeful? that was a great moment for me, no matter what happens on super tuesday. fuck tuesday, let's talk about sundays. i love sundays, because they are easy, just like lionel richie said.
until the next time, or the next round....
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