11/28/2016 I got there early (Maybe a little too early, but I have never been one for that CPT shit). Keelan Jones and David Given’s Jr. were expecting some real heat for their open mic night…
Poetry Today
NaNoWriMo & Me
My Fifth book of poetry
Hello Readers
It’s been a while since we connected. You’ve probably forgotten about me, I haven’t forgotten about you.
It is 11/1/2016. National Novel Writers Month has begun and I am about to put the finishing touches on my novel with the working title, Good Hair/Bad Magic.
My fifth book of poetry ON LIFE is available on.www.createspace.com and http://www.amazon.com.
I wish I had something profound and Zen to say at this point but I don’t. I’m just flying by the seat of my panty hose this month. I registered my novel Good Hair/Bad Magic on the NaNoWriMo website and donated. It is not exactly fair the I have 10,000 more words to go before I am finished, but with the way I find to work it might as well be a million.
I’ve been going through a lot of depression and high anxiety; a sort of what does it all mean phase, and I’m sick of it. So it is back to work for me, once I can figure out what the fuck it is that I am doing first.
Do I outline?
Do reread what I have already written first?
Do I start at the end and work my way back up to the climax?
I don’t know.
But, I do know that it is going to be a hell of a time trying.
Stay tuned.
So What Have I Been Doing?
We are in the middle of 2016. Have I’ve been writing? Yes. A lot. Has that writing gotten me anywhere? Well, it has. Writing has gotten me further in life than I ever would have imagined.
Still, I wonder, always, if I could be doing more.
Recently I had two short stories published that I had shopped around almost every where. Writing is always a game of chance and I often say, that I have been rejected by the best. I am proud to say a publication took a chance on my work and paid me it. Genre fiction a hard market to break into.
The publication is called Black Girl Magic Literary Magazine. You can find issue two on Amazon for $3.99. Black Girl Magic Lit Mag Facebook Page It looks like I got my swagger back. Truth.
In the meantime, June 10th is the North Shore edition of Highland Parks Poetry Pentathlon. I got second place last year and first place at the Waiting 4 the Bus Poetry Pentathlon. I am looking forward to playing with wordsmiths again. And maybe taking the cup home , I don’t know.
I am also interviewing people for Entrepreneurs of Color Magazine, getting them to tell
their stories and having them published in print and e-form. My next deadline is June 17th. I love working with a deadline. It makes everything I do feel official. You can find their website here.
And finally, for those of you who don’t know, my latest book is out and ready for your approval. 7 Random Things features 7 unpublished poems and part of something special that I am working on for next year. It is $6.38 online. I hope you all enjoy it.The Link is here.
MUSIC REVIEW: LVL
Hello readers.
I’ve started a second novel while finishing on the first. I’ve also been reading various new authors that I haven’t read before. Well, they are new to me. There is so much right now going on in my life, I just wanted to pause, be grateful and listen to some new tunes.
Like I have said before, when I am looking for inspiration I don’t need to go farther than Lake County, IL. We have so much talent in this part of Illinois; voices screaming to be heard all the time.
Right now, I am checking out the lyrical stylings Tevin Dantrell, and his new mixtape LVL, which is another level up from some of the things I’ve heard in mainstream radio/television.
So, readers, I’m tripping because I have interviewed this brotha before for previous blogs, and his power behind a microphone has grown exponentially. In LVL, Tevin boldly bares his soul on 14 tracks. He shows his heart, exposes his desires, and his own inner struggles with brutal honesty while holding nothing back from the listener.
His lyrics have a passion that most other artists don’t have. And whether you love hip hop like air and water or you are just a casual listener, LVL is another one you need to have this summer.
Just go to datpiff.com and download LVL . Enjoy some food for thought set over some head nodding beats.
My personal favs of this mixtape are the tracks “U” “NO SOLOS” “LIVE LOVE LAUGH” & “AND I HATED”. But don’t take my word for it. Check it out for yourself.
MUSIC REVIEW: COLD SUMMER
I’ve been busy working on my novel, working on my health, and working on myself. Hello readers, poeticjharris is back and she is sorry to have kept you waiting.
For inspiration through music, this poet doesn’t have to go far. I look to the emcees of Lake County, IL. Most of them are doing something, moving something innovative that won’t be heard or found on mainstream radio.
And while the rich and famous sell their souls for twitter beefs and infamy, it is nice to hear some Rhythmic American Poetry (RAP) that is all about bitches and bling. After all, according to KRS-1 (Raptures Delight): A dope emcee is A dope emcee.
Case in point: Recording Artist and Songwriter KAYO. I just heard the first six tracks from his latest mixtape entitled: COLD SUMMER. The music is eclectic, not the usual dick grabbing, grill flashing, money bragging stuff you may hear on the day to day. The brother’s lyrics have substance. Soon to be released on March 15th, this will definitely be one to have in any hip hop heads underground collection.
It already has chill summer vibe to it with tracks you can take a drive by the lake, sit at home and meditate or even dance to. IF you are a real head and looking for some seasonal theme music, please check out SKMG Presents KAYO COLD SUMMER.
Check out the tracks Legacy and The Trailer fo sho. CLICK TO FOLLOW KAYO ON TWITTER
My thoughts on Spike Lee’s Chiraq trailer.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About image and images of black men and black woman, and thinking of the power behind those images. And after having seen Spike Lee’s trailer last night of the much anticipated and much talked about film Chiraq, one might say that I am lost in thought or that I have a loss for words. They’d be right.
The film Chiraq is a retelling of the Greek story Lysistrata by the playwright Aristophanes. The original story of Lysistrata is a comedic account of one woman’s plan of action to end the Peloponnesian War by having all women refuse sex to their men until a peace treaty is reached.
In the times of ancient Greece, the men would dress as women to act on the stage in feminine roles. Women weren’t allowed to do much except breed.
Moving forward, we have Chiraq. Chiraq is term coined for the city of Chicago, Illinois where on Monday, November 2nd, a nine year old boy named Tyshawn Lee was gunned down viciously in an alley while taking a short walk to his grandmother’s house. “Chi”cago+I”raq”=”Chiraq” The city of Chicago has become an all out warzone in some areas. There is no one problem that makes this so. You can point to the guns, drugs, lack of city leadership, police brutality, broken families, schools closing, urban gentrification, etc. All of it and a sense of apathy and hopelessness is why Chiraq needed to be made.
When Spike Lee announced that he was making this film, personally, I got excited. This is the man who made the films Do the Right Thing, School Daze, the documentaries “4 Little Girls” & “When The Levees Broke”. This is the man who made not only Black America but America take a long hard look at itself each and every time he makes a film. Most nonBlacks garner there learning of Blacks by what they see on film and television. The media often has a polarizing effect on discussions of racial equality. Often a side is left out, or an aspect unseen, or the whole truth just whitewashed over to suite an agenda for shock value and ratings. But, I always expect Spike to tell a real story. I always look on the screen and see faces like mine when I watch a Spike Lee Joint.
But what is going on in reality, in Chicago right now, is not a comedy. It is a constant ever deepening tragedy. The Mayor of Chicago and Chief of Police want to say that the homicide rate is down, but after every weekend there is at least one or even three stories of someone caught in the crossfire and losing their life. Like nine year old Tyshawn Lee.
A film is just a film. The colors will fade to black, the credits will roll, and then the music will stop. But when all is said and done with this, will the killing stop in Chicago? How? And if not, why will it continue?
I do plan to support the film when it comes out. Why? In a way, I feel like it ours. I mean, it is not really our story. But, the film in it’s full state, may represent something of what we all could become. And of course, I am still a Spike Lee fan. Stay tuned.
Looking back at HOPE
It is now October 6, 2015. In 2016, another presidential election will be upon us. Right now, I just want to reflect on things. I want to remember what it once meant for me to call myself a responsible citizen of this country.
In 2008, I had no hope. I looked at the world (not through rose-tinted glasses) as dark, unforgiving place. In 2008, we had a young Illinois Senator come around (a grass-roots politician, community activist) named Barack Husein Obama. It was obvious he wasn’t physically like the other candidates in appearance. He was a black man on an international stage. He was graced with the poise and elegance of articulation.
He was just another person I didn’t trust. And I ended up not voting for him.
In my mind, and because of my education and maybe even because of my own personal experiences, hope was just another empty premise to me. Who cares, right?
The next day, with egg on my face, I thought I had missed history. Yep. I spit in the eye of fate and she smacked the taste out of my mouth. Obama won. I know I am not the only black person who didn’t vote for him in 2008. I just felt the urge to talk about it now.
In time, things began to move forward. In 2009, during the first state of the union address Senator Joe Wilson (South Carolina) calls the President a liar. Something I have never seen done during any State of the Union address to any sitting president. The internet armchair racists, make memes and Photoshop pictures to make Obama look like Adolf Hitler and Michelle like an ape.
In 2009, I’m driving home from another dead-end job and there are white men in the middle of the street handing out fliers begging other white people to urge our congressmen to have this President impeached. The word socialism is getting thrown around like Communism was in the 1960s when ever people spoke of abolishing segregation. And on and on.
Conservative and even some liberal news outlets want to call the Obama era post racial America. A Shangri-la where your color and mine don’t matter. A place where anybody can get ahead with hard work, hope and sacrifice. There’s that word again: HOPE.
In 2015, people are more divided than ever on the issues of race and equality. I didn’t think it would come to this in my life time but it has. In 2008, majority ruled. People got the candidate they voted for, and learned that he was not the Antichrist or the Second Coming of The Christ. Obama is a man, first and foremost. In 2008, I was fed up with life in general and I didn’t believe that a grassroots, career politician from the heart of Chicago (largest city of the most corrupt state in this Union) should be President. I didn’t believe in hope. But, I learned.
By 2012, I respected and admired Obama. (I wouldn’t have insurance now if it wasn’t for him.) I watched this man endure trying to get this country to function through government shutdowns, conservative talking head quips (insults) about his wife, his kids, his character, natural disasters, wars, etc. I watched him at every turn do the job he had been elected to do despite everything life, Fox News and Republicans threw at him. And he took it all, and kept smiling.
So I voted for him, in 2012. A decision that I don’t regret.
Truthfully, I don’t really regret my decision in 2008. I just regret the faulty reasoning behind it. Since I came of age to vote, I have always done that. In state and national elections, I vote. And never straight party. I realized a long time ago that it doesn’t matter who is in office. It is what they do when they are in that office that counts. I always viewed as a sacred honor and right of passage for me to vote in an American election. This is something some women don’t have the right to do in other countries (hello, Iran). Right now, this nation, America is on a cycle of repeat. We wash over the hurt and the pain. Make it all glossy, so the bright looks just that much brighter. In the end, we do ourselves a disservice if we forget our mutual history in this country.
Obama may have made some mistakes. People may have died and may be dying right now overseas because of a choice or choices he made. Obama isn’t perfect. Our founding fathers certainly weren’t perfect. The wrote the Declaration of Independence, knowing full well that they didn’t believe that all men were created equal at the time that it was written. In this nation, men, women and children were kept in bondage for over 400 years. In this country, from the early 1900s until now, men and women were killed in horrendous ways because of the color of their skin. In today’s America, I live freely with all the rights my ancestors fought for, rights I took for granted in 2008. And even now, I believe those rights can be taken away from me at anytime because of the color of my skin.
Hope is not an empty premise. Hope is a blessing you can’t see yet, and even though you may never see it, it motivates you to believe.
It is my hope now, that whatever comes, when the smoke clears, we can all move on together. One Nation, Under God, Indivisible.
Right now, none of the candidates are making me feel like I have any good choices in front of me. None. But, I’ll hold on to my hope and when the time comes, I’ll vote. That is all I can do.
I BELONG IN JAIL: A TRUE STORY
A long time ago, on Martin Luther King Drive, in North Chicago, I was pulled over by the police. It was a dark summer night. I had just turned 22 , got my license and a new car: a 2002 Hunter Green Kia Sportage. Now, the back of my license clearly states that I am to wear my glasses at all times while driving because of my eyesight. Well, I was young, excited and stupid and forgot them. It happens. I remember squinting and in the haze of red and blue seeing a big burly cop wave me by. So I went. And then it happened. A siren sounded right behind me and I wasn’t sure what was going on. I pulled over and stopped when I realized the sound was for me. Honestly, I was scared. But, I thought since I was already in breach of the law anyway and knew it, I’d use what little skill I had to get out of this potentially bad situation.
I rolled down my window and this young rookie cop comes to my drivers side and before he could speak, I said, “Oh my God, officer! it is like so nice to see you out here because it is like so dark and stuff.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. And then he said, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
I smiled and said, “I have no clue. But, I’m totally glad to see you anyway.”
The rookie seemed to be at a loss for words. And then he asked the first $400,000 question: “Why did you keep going when I signaled you to stop?”
“Oh my God, was that like for me?”
Then the second $400,000: (or demand): “Let me see your license and registration now.”
I said, “Ok. Don’t shoot or anything, it’s like totally in my purse.” And they were. But, I still knew that I was fucked because I didn’t have my glasses on. (OR SO I THOUGHT).
So he runs my license, and checks my registration and notices that the plates are not fashioned clearly on my brand new car. He goes to confer with the big burly cop, who tells the young upstanding rookie to “RUN HER BLACK ASS ON IN. HER CAR DOESN’T HAVE ANY VALID PLATES ON IT.”
SO the rookie comes back. Doesn’t give me my license back yet. Just comes back and says, “Where are your license plates?”
I gestured with my right hand to the dashboard where my temporary plate was. And said, “Oh, it’s right here officer. Like this car is so new.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. Again. And said, “Is there any reason (3rd $400,000 question of the evening) why I shouldn’t search your vehicle?”
I looked him straight in the eye, and smiled. And then I said the words that in today’s world would have condemned me. I said: “Well, like, you would just be doing your job officer. Like totally search my car dude!” Still smiling. Hell, I even did the valley girl giggle.
He shook his head and went back to the burly cop and they spoke to each other about me in hushed hurried tones. That I could hear. Because, at night, (without my glasses) I’m blind. NOT DEAF!
The rookie comes back, clearly flustered. Hands back my license and registration to me and proceeds to give me a 10-15 minute speech about how he could be out saving a life right now, but for me. “Someone’s house could be burning down, or something, and I can’t get to them in time because, blah blah blah.” I don’t remember all of what he said. I stopped smiling. But I kept the goofy look in my eye.
In the end I went on to my destination. Illegally. Without my glasses on. Because they just looked at my picture and my car, and didn’t condescend to read the back of my valid ILLINOIS DRIVERS LICENSE which clearly stated I was in violation.
There is no moral to this story. There is no rhyme or reason to all the BS that is going on today. I was young and stupid. But, at least, I’m smarter than a rookie and a certain fat bastard cop who had every reason to “RUN MY BLACK ASS ON IN.”
Thank you. Goodnight. Oh and please share.
I’m Angry: My Rachel Dolezal Rant.
I want to laugh, but I’m angry.
Ok, I’m Angry. How typical, right? I’m black and I’m mad. I’ve never gotten a pass for my gender or my color. I don’t want one.
All of my stripes are earned.
In McKinney TX, less than a few weeks ago, the big news story was about a 14 year old black girl getting roughed up by a police officer at a pool party she was invited too. The police officer has since resigned. The community and the country is further polarized by his actions and our reactions.
But, our problems as a racially divided nation have to take a back seat now. Because now we have Rachel. Rachel Dolezal, who recently resigned as president from the NAACP Spokane Washington Branch because her parents outed her as a white woman.
And the media shark tank is officially in a frenzy.
Look, I’m angry for a lot of reasons. I won’t hide it, like I can’t hide my dark skin color. My dark skin and white sounding voice. My experience with my race and those not in my race, has mostly been negative. Being bipolar on top of that didn’t help anything either. The word retarded was often used to describe me. (Clearly something must be wrong with me)
But, Rachel is transracial, and deserves our respect and sympathy. She is just light enough to pass and just dark enough to fit in. Her hairstyles and her look is completely on fleek. Always. But you’ve got to keep up appearances when you are passing for black.
Well, my initial reaction to all this hullabaloo, was not positive. I really unleashed on this woman, and my friends who thought she should be given a pass, forgiven even, that she had to lie, or maybe that’s just how she sees herself and feels about herself.
Some of my words on Facebook:
Why did she lie? Why is my race all the sudden a non issue? Why did she lie? Why can’t I lie about my skin color? Alright. I’m pink. Now look at my Facebook pics. Catfish! Catfish!
Look blackness no matter how much melanin is in the skin is a state of being, not a look, not a fashion trend, not something someone who looks like me can change. I can’t change my skin without pain and chemicals.
Acting and being is two different things. Genetically she is still white. I’ll be hateful and wrong for saying all this. Fine. I don’t care anymore. It’s the truth. Somethings can’t be changed no matter what one thinks.
Look, she could have done and achieved everything she has achieved as a white woman. Howard University accepts white students every year. The NAACP was started by a white woman. There is no confusion in me on that fact. That is history look it up.
People brought up Martin Luther King, Caitlyn Jenner, and Micheal Jackson to argue the point with me. And my answer is the same: if color doesn’t matter, only the content of her character, why the charade? Why the lies? Are you African American is a yes or no question. It deserves a yes or no answer. If she is black, then say yes and be proud. Caitlyn Jenner considered herself female even while she was still Bruce. Micheal Jackson supposedly had a disease that lightened his skin and he never identified as Caucasian in public.
And I am still angry, and offended by this woman’s very presence on my television screen. I’m angry at all the black celebrities that want to give her a pass even as more of the story comes out. I’m angry at myself for blogging about it.
I am angry. Look, in my country, in the United States of America, color matters. Your voice, your style of dress, your money and parentage matter. If they don’t then stop reading this, and drop Rachel and others like her like a hot rock. Drop me for all I care. Stop blaming Obama for everything. Stop blaming Bush for everything. Instead of a dollar, give that homeless beggar you see everyday and try to ignore, two hundred dollars.
We are all racists, prejudiced, capitalists, pigs in this America. Because it all matters. Especially when it comes in a cute well meaning package. She gets a pass because we are all guilty. I just don’t have to lie though, do I?
poeticjharris 