the good fight.

dancing with myself

2009-12-02T17:28:00.011-05:00

i used to be a ballerina. a long time ago.

i quit because i was too thick for tutus.

but i signed up for dance class when

i was a junior in high school. i was

from out of town

and out of place

and out of shape. i figured that intermediate dance would be

an easy A.

the first day of class

i couldn't help but look at you and laugh

you wore spandex shorts that were tight in all the wrong places

hairy legs coupled with hairy arms and hairy eyebrows

your height made your stature bend like a broken sunflower stem

your mounds of dark curls with your thick indian accent

made you the laughing stock of the class

so of course, you would be assigned to be my dance partner.

naturally.

we were a disaster at disco,

there was nothing sexy about our salsa

and your cha cha slide was cha cha sad.

by the time we started the ballet unit, i had given up

but out of nowhere, God blessed you with the gift of grace

your petite jete` was better than mine

you twirled me out of my fouette and i fell back into your arms

we spun around the gym like two brown and black tops

scuffed slippers leaving our marks behind

you graduated that year.

you went to school and we kept in touch. jokes on facebook

about the time you dropped me on my face and we tried

to tell our teacher it was part of our routine. it never got old.

after a few months, the messages decreased.

one day i clicked on your page

and your friend said you were in the hospital

diagnosed with brain cancer.

my roommate picked me up off the floor after i passed out.

i signed up to take a dance class a few weeks later. i walked in the

door.

everyone was properly dressed.

they all looked limber and relaxed and trained.

no eyebrows that needed to be plucked.

no inappropriate jokes. no one broke out into a pseudo split.

no one was like you. so i left.

i sent you messages.

when you felt well enough to read them, you responded.

you said you were losing alot of your hair due to the chemo.

and that when we danced again, your forcefield of fur

wouldn't get in the way. only you could make chemo funny.

i laughed. for you.

last summer, you went into remission. i couldn't have been happier.

this summer, the cancer spread to your lungs. i couldn't believe it.

this tuesday morning, you died. i can't comprehend still.

you danced on to a different dimension

a place that your partner can't find you.

where your crooked smile and spandex shorts

don't matter.

i prayed you'd save the last dance for me

but you've gone backstage, around the corner

and on to the final show

performing for an audience that will applaud for an eternity

after i heard the news that you passed

i went downstairs to a mirrored room with bars.

i danced.

moves i hadn't done in years i performed fluidly

i spun like a top, fouette after fouette

dancing with myself

only one half of our pair

leaving marks on the linoleum floor

like we had done 5 years before

your swan song was beautiful

but i have to, i need to see more

and i'm begging for an encore

i'm begging for an encore

the triumvirate.

2009-11-12T02:49:00.002-05:00

the triumvirate

three years ago a balmy night in august

the three of us were cooped up in a tent

we hadn't taken a chemistry test to fail yet

and we didn't know what slow grinds were

but i remember laying next to angelica

and falling asleep on michael thinking

what the hell had i gotten myself into

and three years later we have been through

every argument imaginable

and every possible incident known to man

but at the end of the day

or at the middle of the night, rather,

we're willing to pitch a tent and do it all over again

falling asleep soundly to the slumber of the other two

there were days that i thought we'd never

speak again let alone sleep again

in the space vicinity but our friendship

the triumvirate is battle tested

when we fall out we never fall apart

we become some sort of impenetrable force

i've learned not to question God's plan and

why he led me to these two and why

we've stuck through it all the way we do but

i'm me. i'm ashley. for having known the two of you

michael snores but he'd never admit it

and angie tosses more than she tends to believe

but these odds and ends of three years of

chaos

and bliss

are nothing but familiar lullabies

that sooth my soul

when days like today wear me out

i'm blanketed in a quilt of friendship

spread over the three of us

God's got it under control

13 / 20 : say say say.

2009-10-26T16:48:00.003-04:00

back from dc. crazy weekend. poet trees time.

say say say

i don't know where to begin

i don't know what to say

say

to you except that you

make

everything seem so simple

and easy

even a woman as incomprehensible

as me

and i don't know what to say

when it comes to my exboyfriends

and i don't know what to say

when it comes to my family's lifestyle

and i don't know what to say

when it comes to my love for arena rock

but i feel like

whenever i do figure out what to say

say

you'll listen with open ears

open heart

and you'll invite me in

12 / 30 : i dreamed a dream.

2009-10-22T03:24:00.003-04:00

dc today.

i dreamed a dream

i dreamed a dream of a life worth living

and to see it go up in smoke

puff puff pass

with just one

wrong move

tears my soul in two

is there any way i can

text l. hughes and ask him

what happens to a dream

deferred

11 / 30 : ice cream paint job.

2009-10-20T19:26:00.002-04:00

at work. i got the heat on because it makes me feel like i have a blanket on. and the residents seem to enjoy it when they walk in soooooo. that's good.

ice cream paint job

i'm sitting at work only sort of paying attention

to what i'm being paid to do because

i have the heat on 80 degrees to cover me

like a blanket

i look outside the window to see the sky

arched with orange and pinks

speckles of purple and blue graffiti blasted on

this canvas above my head God must

be feeling extremely creative and as

the minutes roll by the background changes

the colors blend in to each other as He mixes

and blends and rolls his paint above my head the

colors are so dense i feel that drop of rich red will

fall on my head like rain

i must look like a complete idiot

with my mouth hanging open staring at the sky

but i think it's even crazier

that they aren't even looking up

at all

10 / 30 : you don't know my name.

2009-10-19T22:46:00.003-04:00

4 papers due today. i'm a beast. i'm a dog. i'm sleepy.

you don't know my name

it's funny how you could know me almost

biblically

from the hairs that stand up on my head

alpha

to the the curvature in my heels

omega

but

it's funny that when our paths finally cross

you just shoot

me a wink and

you just shoot

a half hearted smile

so i'm

i'm laying on the ground with a chest pelted with

wayward bullets

you're killing me

and all the same you don't even

know my name

9 / 30 : beautiful.

2009-10-19T05:16:00.004-04:00

i'm squatting here waiting for a vandy van. just finished a paper in the commons since i cant write in my room and i was helping jess unbraid her hair/provide comic relief. anyway, yeah.

beautiful

every time you see me you tell me i look

beautiful

and i can't help but blush and say

thank you

i'm usually quick with a witty retort

or i have

some smart ass comment to dispel but

you look at me like

you really believe that i looked

beautiful

last night

i've been given many compliments in my life

from many men at

various occasions but

the sincerity in your smile and

the way your eyes met mine

it was thirty four degrees outside

and it's been 20 degrees inside my heart

for awhile now but you've come along like

an early spring

thawing me out and bringing color to my days

making everything

and me

seem

beautiful

again

8 / 30 : houstatlantavegas.

2009-10-16T04:11:00.003-04:00

thursdays are my tv days.

houstatlantavegas

the way he looks at me

when i bend over in high heels

in order to appease him and make

both of his heads spin

can only be described as

ecstasy

7 / 30 : the love of my life.

2009-10-15T04:26:00.003-04:00

i proclaimed today to be a good day and ALAS. it was. the funk is officially over. let homecoming week begin. even though i think it started already? irrelevant.

the love of my life

as a young girl i sat and wondered

as i drew sketches of satin wedding dresses

when i would find the man i would marry

sometimes i think that we've met

maybe he was my 4th grade penpal

that i used to talk about michael jackson songs with

licking envelopes and spraying them with perfume

i cried when he wrote one day he'd be moving away

or maybe he was my boyfriend freshman year in high school

he was a senior so my father didn't approve

and he saw beyond the short skirt pon poms and fat ass

held my hand underneath the bus seat

and read me poetry he wrote in third period

he could be my first love

the only man who i've ever bared my soul

and everything else

for

his touch took me to ecstasy and he pleasured me

just by simply watching gossip girl and pretending

to be interested

perhaps i see him everyday

maybe he's the nigga in line for tortellini

who sits behind me in my tuesday/thursday class

maybe he picked up the plate i dropped in rand

or i've danced with him at a party

or maybe he's been by my side

this whole time

6 / 30 : weekend [outer space flow].

2009-10-14T00:31:00.007-04:00

i hate papers. i hate papers. oh, goodness. but whateva.

weekend [outer space flow].

monday through thursday you are

off-limits, outer limits

and monday through thursday i often

pass right by you like a shooting star

out of grasp, out of space

your eyes are wide as a full moon as

you watch my hips roll by like a tide

lapping up against the shore

but on the weekend something

shifts

maybe the planets align or

some stars are doing some weird shit

but we are always orbiting around each other

waiting expectantly for our paths to

collide

create a beautiful disaster

an explosion in between my knees

that we'll have to clean up monday morning

before the others wake with the sun to find

the crater that our anxious chemistry

created

5 / 30 : other side of the game.

2009-10-12T23:27:00.003-04:00

normalcy, whatever it means at the moment, is good.

other side of the game

my girls told me that

no one had ever looked so good in blue

from head to toe

just needed accessories to match

a week before we slept in a massive suite

living a life of decadence

a week later three of us on one couch

cramped and uncomfortable

when the cards were re-dealt

turning from luxury to lamentations

they were still there with me

even on the other side of the game

bless them

4 / 30 : seasons [run this town].

2009-10-12T00:52:00.004-04:00

oh boy.....

seasons

daddy

im sure the creole slipped off of your tongue

as you peered from your rooftop in roselawn

to see the scoreboard at riverbend stadium

you heard the crowd go wild and you yelled

geaux bengals

and hooted loudly until

your mother told you it was time for dinner

you dreamed of being bigger than big

you wanted to call the plays on the turf

you needed to run this town

that had birthed you as your haitian heritage

got lost in between one of cincinnati's seven hills

and you dreamed a dream as american as skyline chili

thirty years later

many seasons have gone by and you have coached

in every major arena under the sun but you always

wanted to go back to the five one three

and be the hometown hero you never

wanted to forget that you were spoon fed stoop dreams

remembered legendary passes from your rooftop

its october and seasons change as they always do

the fall always makes me think of you

as you suit up in whatever color is appropriate

for the city we are living in for the year

for the month

for the moment

but i knew as soon as you put on a cap

colored orange and black you felt like

you had come full circle

at home games when i'm in town when our team touches down

you'll look up at the stands and point at me

always

and when you're away in seattle

atlanta

new york

chicago

and we make a big play i know you're doing the same

i called you today after we won and you were

crying

we hadn't been number 1 since 1988 before

i could walk and before michael was born

a different season in your life when you could only dream

that you'd be on the team

roster

daddy

i'll never understand the man

behind smile and the ray bans but

as the seasons change

as they always do

i'll be in the stands

every chance i can

cheering for you

3 / 30 : the space between.

2009-10-11T00:03:00.003-04:00

i slept a lot today until the mentor/mentee dinner. i love my kids and all my fellow mentors. yayayayayayay. now i have the itis.

the space between

my leg is nervously pumping under the table

and an uneasy shy smile spreads like butter

across my cocoa colored face

he speaks like philly while

he speaks of physics and philippians

he's here to get his phD in a field that is literally

out of this world but right now

he's studying my words and my smile

i can't help but to enjoy the moment

despite the fact that i'm in the middle of

a crowded restaurant near campus

and there is 2 feet of table between us 2

the space between has never seemed

so inconsequential

2 / 30 : big.

2009-10-09T22:48:00.002-04:00

this weekend is about to be real boring. meh. poem time.

big

after i spoke to you today and you left out the door

you put the proverbial nail in the coffin

of this terrible week

may it rest in peace

while i pick up the pieces

in the commons i'm trying desperately

to appear presidential

immaculately dressed with a poker face

voice quivering out of a frozen smile

i walk off stage and take a picture

standing noble like barack with his nobel

pieces of me dance across the lens

i stand tall but i can't help but feel

so small

in the bathroom i'm washing pools of mascara

from my face

charcoal and koal dripping into the bowl

a little girl comes in with blonde hair and a bowl cut

standing on her tip toes

to wash her hands clean from paint

after she scrubbed her innocence off

she turned to me

still washing my sorrow down the drain

and said

i saw you on stage with the microphone

looked so tall

your voice is so cool

and big

i smiled and said thank you

held the door for her as she excited

and ran off to get some apple cider

i couldn't help but find it funny

that a little six year old girl helped me

grow so quick

from small to back to big

1 / 30 : i'll wait and pray, part 2

2009-10-08T01:16:00.005-04:00

so i decided to start a 30/30 again. i need to be fresh. and the pressure of day to day living has gotten me down. time to get back to what i know. and i know how to write. i don't know if i write well, but it keeps me honest and. that's all i can ask for.

i'll wait and pray, part 2

it is autumn now

the days are getting shorter

by 7 pm i am enveloped in a void darkness

the october chill is so cold it would stop my heart

if i had one to speak of

i don't keep you around to keep me warm

i have men beating down my door to heat my sheets

but you seem to warm my heart

in a way that none of them can hold a candle to

without a match or kerosene your very essence

can keep me snug and secure for hours

we don't even hug seriously

it would make a mockery of

our emotional intensity

i don't find myself longing to be in your arms

or to fall asleep in your embrace

a digital stroke from your keyboard

down the spine of my computer screen

messaging me

'good morning' is more than enough for me

but now those days

have seemed to been swept away

with the fading remnants of an indian summer

that i had stolen but you gave back

i'm sure that you'll return soon

on a gust of october wind on the coattails of

the cascading leaves dancing across my window

there's nothing left for me to do

i'll wait and pray

pills.

2009-09-30T16:57:00.005-04:00

pills

susie wakes up every morning shaking

spiral curls from in front of her eyelashes

stretches and slides out of her sheets ready

to take a shower to start her day but she

can't go anywhere until she lysols each linoleum tile

in the bathroom stall she spends hours slumped over with scrubbing bubbles

sixty times in a slow clockwise motion to ensure

its is safe to soak in

30 times counterclockwise to get rid of the grime

invisible enemies of disease that she cannot see

she wakes up at 9 and doesn't shower until 11:30

she hides her disorder in the stall where no one can see

susie is suffering from OCD

they told her she is a hazard to herself and she's crazy

she is an unproductive nonfunctioning member of society

without her

pills

chris can't shake the countless thoughts in his cerebral

he walks down the street to the beats of several drummers

the beat is so rapid the tempo melts into fluidity

it takes him hours to plan what he will eat for dinner when

one voice is screaming sushi and the other moans for mexican

he doesn't have any friends but he is never lonely in bed

he shares his twin mattress with the 30 voices in his head

its a party every evening and he's a great host

he can't go to sleep until everyone shuts up and leaves

so he spends most of his nights talking back to himself

yelling at himself laughing with himself laughing at himself

gossiping about himself plotting with himself

in a room where he is the only resounding voice

in a world that calls him crazy

schizophrenia has torn his world into two and threes

its 11:30 PM and chris leans over his bed grabs a bottle of water

and pops his

pills

matthew is mad as a motherfucker and

sobbing solemnly at the same time

his mother doesn't get why he's so sad and his

stepfather sits sullenly at the dinner table

as matt pushes the food around his plate

not hungry enough to let it reach his palate his mother

brings up a bad grade in biology and he snaps

he throws his plate against the wall it shatters and splints

like the synapses and neurons in his skull

his serotonin is slowin to a complete halt

he runs to his room with pieces of plates

and slowly slits his wrists until the sight of his pain

dripping on to his bedspread makes him feel alive again

he's a walking corpse at 11:30 PM

his mother is downstairs rifling through her purse

desperate to fill an emergency prescription for his

pills

ashley awakens every morning with anxiety on her breath

she brushes her teeth clean every morning but cant shake the taste

scrubs her tongue in hopes that a fresh palate will make her mind placid

she doesn't know what it feels like to really relax

she spends her summers locked in her room submitting to bad habits

anything to keep herself busy and her mind off her mind

if she sneezes she thinks she has swine flu

if she coughs she's overly concerned about a cold

if she feels nauseous she knows she has pneumonia

her thoughts get carried away like a hot air balloon and take off

like a jet engine she believe it she spazzes she can't breathe

she falls to her knees and her vision tunnels she swears she cant see

her confidence is comatose at 11:30

she shutters and shakes and her mother's heart breaks

as her daughter cries out for help hundreds of miles away

she picks her defeated body off her dorm room floor

prays to God for inner peace before she takes her

pills

they used to lock and throw away the key

for crazy ass women like me who they say lost

a grip on our sanity

but instead they inject and sedate us

write a prescription and medicate us

pluck us like rogue weeds and eradicate us

dissect then re-conjugate us

strip us of our essence to desecrate us

but if i was to shout from the highest mount ain

that i am no different than you now, i wasn't then i'm just

hiding behind a wall of insecurity because of

this label you've placed on them on me

schizophrenic

depressed

OCD

anxiety

but i've been here this whole time and i'll

be here long after you're gone

and while you're still finding your niche

i'll sit here bloom blossom and become a BOSS bitch

you'd pick me up

place me down and say

this woman is obviously mentally ill

someone strap her down

dope her up

and give this crazy bitch her

pills

30 / 30 : ecclesiastes 9:11.

2009-08-20T15:32:00.003-04:00

last poem of the month.

it's been crazy, crazy crazy.

thank you for reading. ive enjoyed the criticism and encouragement.

start your own. keep writing. and reading.

everyone's a poet.

ecclesiastes 9:11

i woke up this morning

for the first time in four months

without my mother down the hall

to the sound of an incoming message

to my phone

i lazily rolled over

in my freshly washed linen

in my freshly cleaned room

to a text from her that

declared

the race goes not to the swift

nor the strong

but he who endureth

in the end

ecclesiastes 9:11

right now i'm in the race for my life

to make sure my future fits

securely in my palm and snug

in my pocket

pressed and panicked

each stroke of the clock would set me

off

but reading that

from the wisest woman that i know

made me smile and i slowly

relaxed

fell back asleep

29 / 30 : being back.

2009-08-19T04:33:00.003-04:00

laying in bed next to angie [no homo] on the bsa retreat. back to vandyland. welcome to senior year.

being back

rolling up to towers two

i walked in the front door like

i had hundreds of times before

and it didn't even feel like

i hadn't been back in four months

in fact it felt like i never left

and as many times as i

prayed desperately to leave

now i'm holding on to these days

with the jaws of life

28 / 30 : it's the end of the world as we know it [and i feel fine]

2009-08-17T22:48:00.004-04:00

all packed. will be back for the last time in t-minus 12 hours.

this is exciting and terrifying, all at the same time.

it's the end of the world as we know it [and i feel fine]

three years ago i begged my mother

for an rainbow colored bedspread

that was over her budget

as most things are

i promised that i would take care of it

and do my laundry every week

she said as long as i didn't have sex

on that 100 dollar bed set

she'll buy it because it'll last

four years

tonight i lugged my bedspread

out of the mildewy mess of our basement

i couldn't help but stick my nose in the fabric

and inhale

it smelled like the first day of school

when i lived in lupton house

i had lain my outfit on my bed

with deliberate care my boyfriend and i

had bought it for that very occasion

he said i looked beautiful in it

and he kissed me on the cheek

i'll never forget the night i left him

for a new life back down south and how

i cradled his 6'2 frame in my arms as he

sobbed secrets in my shoulders telling me

how he loved me so much

and he'd catch the first bus down

when he could scrounge up the change

but by the time he showed up

baggage in hand and a smile on his face

i had changed

it sort of smells like sophomore year tears

a salty and relentless odor of unrequited love

and girlish gossip that sent me

over the edge one day that

cold winter

i sobbed in my bedspread, bare feet on the floor

my heart wanted to be at ohio state

i didn't want to cry anymore because tears

were not enough to keep me

enclosed in the halls of gillette house

i wanted out but angie and michael

wiped away my watery woes and gave me

the good sense to see beyond that day

that week that month

and gave me clarity the three of us

the triumvirate

were tighter than thieves and if

i didn't have them then

i'd be bleeding scarlet and grey

along with half of the high school

i tried so hard to leave behind

i closed my eyes and i could smell the

scent of sexuality from junior year

so strong that bleach couldn't wash it out

i needed a calendar to keep up with

the dudes i was talking to and i was forgetting

the names of the guys who stopped through

they would always make themselves at home

on my bed spread, expecting me to strip

tease them

ease them out of their clothes but

my chastity wouldn't let me

but i can still remember being wrapped together

like poetry and prose

under my covers

with him and the gust of wind

he blew in on

as we struggled to find a label

that fit

for what we were

and weren't

and i can't forget the one who

would drive miles to get underneath my sheets

sneaking him upstairs

and how he gave me chills he was

ice cold but he promised to warm me up

and he did

he wanted to turn the heat up full blast

but i had to cut him off and he began to

melt

but the one who held me tight every night

who could very well say my bed was his

and i couldn't get enough of the way he

touched me

saved me

the best way he knew how

from the coldest winter ever

by just being there

and shielding me

from my nightmares

and as i folded up the bedspread

tightly

a testament of the dreams and schemes

of the past three years

each one different in every way possible

than the year before it

i slam the car door shut

with my whole life peeking at me

out of the back window

heading down I 71 for the last time

and it's the beginning

of the end of the world as i know it

but

i feel fine

27 / 30 : hatehatehate.

2009-08-16T23:50:00.003-04:00

ahhhhhhh whatttt. SCHOOOOOL!

hatehatehate

i like doing

the exact opposite

of what i'm not supposed to do

but you hate it

because you'll never be me

but if you were you'd do it too

so get your stencil out

trace me

make some patterns

get the fabric

snip and sew it up

and try me on for size

because that's as close

as you'll ever get

haters.

26 / 30 : mother goose.

2009-08-16T00:37:00.003-04:00

went shopping for school stuff today. next year i will be at ikea apartment shopping and shit. CRAZYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

mother goose

i think i should be in the Guinness book

21 year old student from Cincinnati, Ohio

is a mother of 81 children

i think that is something noteworthy.

and i don't remember the day that

they turned into smedium strangers

into my kids that i would go hard for

but it happened right under my nose

it's so standard now to

get 8 am texts that scare the shit out of me

thinking its some sort of serious matter

and it's just one of the kids saying

good morning

and if i go more than a week

without playing a trashtalking session

of uno with them something is seriously

out of wack

and i've given advice on everything from

where to go to church to where to drink

what to wear and what is the least amount

to get away with without being called a skank

on books on boys on professors on pearls

on style on sexuality on school books on slow grinds

nothing really surprises me

anymore

and every once in awhile i'll talk to

one of my kids and they'll feel uninhibited

and express whatever is plaguing them and

i listen and it feels as if we have know each other

for far longer than two months

and every once in awhile i'll share

part of myself with them it is

impossible to keep it all strictly business

we have made friendship bonds that i hope

are tight like glue

and even when i feel like all 81 of them

are asking me 81 different questions

all at the same time and i'm overwhelmed

i wouldn't change it

for the world

25 / 30 : preseason.

2009-08-14T22:11:00.006-04:00

good luck to the cincinnati bengals. ugh. pray hard, yall.

preseason

at bengals training camp

deep in the bluegrass of kentucky

my dad

is the first person up every morning

he rubs the sleep out of his eyes

places his accent back under his tongue

like chewing tobacco snuff

shakes the limp residue of a losing season

out of his ball cap

orange and black

walks outside

waits until 5:45

holds the air horn up and

blows

80 miles away

his daughter swears she can hear him

she is still awake at 5:45

her eyes droop down as the sun comes up

shakes the law school worries out of her hair

places her mac down

which is perpetually on

falls asleep to

the melody of rush hour traffic on the street

until she's startled by a car horn that bellows and

blows

there's no such thing as a preseason

there's no such thing as a summer

every moment is of the essence

every second has to count

daddy and i will not stop

until the last whistle

blows

24 / 30 : stress.

2009-08-14T22:10:00.001-04:00

stress

i don't think of it

as being stressed out

or being too busy

i'd like to think that i'm

just really, really

overwhelmed

by my blessings

23 / 30 : erotica.

2009-08-12T22:51:00.004-04:00

allergiesssssssssssssssssssss DAMN!!!!! get me to school.

erotica

if i made love to a poet

would the sight of my silhouette

a shadow slithering out of an ensemble

like a snake shedding its skin

get his

creative

juices flowing

would he stroke me with his left hand

and jot down notes with his right

too busy trying to figure out

an elusive metaphor for my brown skin

while i wait for him to finish

in heightened anticipation

would he hold me tightly and kiss me

would thoughts of turning this moment

into intricate iambic pentameter

make his manhood rise like the eastern sun

and when he melted into the mold of me and i

moaned a melody of ecstasy

would he stop to make a mental note

of how to turn my bellows into a ballad

and when our bodies were depleted

and i put my head on his chest

would he hold me close to his heart

until i fell asleep to his irregular rhythm

or would he push me aside

to open his mac

and attack the keyboard

before my naked, natural scent

leaves his sweaty skin

and he loses his train of thought

he'd be damned

a perfectly good poem evaporating

and out of reach

would he make me climax

because he loves the sound i make

or would he make love to me

for art's sake?

22 / 30 : 21 to 12 and back.

2009-08-12T00:44:00.002-04:00

allergies are bad today. im tired.

21 to 12 and back

in the card aisle at walmart

trying to find the perfect card for tasha

nate's sweet little sister who is turning 12

on friday

when i came to visit in chicago

and we shared a room and shared stories

i forgot for those hours that i was

applying to law school and would be

looking for an apartment in a year's time

the possibility of a high school musical 4

and how to open a locker combination

seemed much more pressing

and perusing through the card aisle today

trying to think of

what would have made me feel like a

princess on my big day

was no small feat surrounded by

cards screaming ROCKSTAR and

SPECTACULAR in electric colors and

photoshopped smiles being 12 years old

means figuring out how to ditch and dodge

what the media tries to jam down your throat

but i remember back in the day when

anything spice girls sent me into orbit

that part of growing up is fitting in

then figuring out a way to stand out

so i found the pinkest purplest

happiest card that they had

skipped down the aisle like i was 12

swiped my debit card like i was 21

walked back to my car and drove off

towards my twenty-something existence

21 / 30 : rainbows.

2009-08-10T23:13:00.003-04:00

after a talk with my friend last week,

about the struggles he deals with being gay

in america i felt for him and cried over the keyboard

this is for you

rainbows

i can envision you in my head

as a little boy growing up strong

in a city that could do nothing but

encircle you with endless love

and a mother who would give the world

for you

who couldn't wait to see her son

graduate high school, college,

marry a beautiful woman,

bring some grand babies to her front porch

to be nestled and nuzzled

with her wisdom and love

but you knew for as long as you could remember

that you were born to live out a different

existence, a destiny you couldn't fight

it was innate and

it was internal you knew

it would break her heart if you ever told her

after a storm and a rainbow appeared

would you peep your head outside

and look up

were you jealous of its unabashed exhibition

a million fragments of flamboyant color

arched across a conservative sky

did you wish you could run out

of the closet

to dance in the rain puddles

spread your arms like the angel

you are

and proclaim your existence

you've been here this whole time

a victim of the system of

double-consciousness

midwestern values strung you up

from the highest skyscraper and

lynched your pride

did you

hate lying to your mother

across the breakfast table about who

you were with last night and what

you did last night and who

you were last night because it never

seemed like the right time

to make her cry and as the years

passed by you couldn't find the time in your blackberry

to schedule that talk with her

you simply didn't want to

and did she tear away at your humanity

when you finally came out of your cocoon

emerged into a butterfly before her eyes

and she rejected the man she had raised

did you want to run back to the closet

lock the door

turn off the light and

fade to black

but there was no turning back

did you lay in your bed at night

unable to slumber peacefully

a product of the city that never sleeps

and did you reach deep inside yourself

and prayed for God to make it all well again

whatever that meant

whatever that may be

as tears as thick as skittles

cascaded down your cheeks

evaporated in the air and painted

the rainbows in the sky

that you were too afraid to do yourself

i can't imagine the places

and predicaments that simply being

who you are has put you through

it rained in cincinnati today

and even though you're hundreds

of miles away

a rainbow

peeked through

the clouds of my midwestern sky

and i couldn't help but think

of you

20 / 30 : a prayer for the class of 2010.

2009-08-09T23:55:00.001-04:00

my class is the best. enough said.

a prayer for the class of 2010.

The number ten [x] is the start of a whole new order of numbers and the culmination of the numbers that come before it. Thus wherever ten is found this completeness of order is also seen. Ten implies completeness of order, nothing lacking and nothing over. It signifies that the cycle is complete and that everything is in its proper order. Thus ten represents the perfection of divine order.

dear Lord,

please watch over my class
my family
as we make our way towards the beginning
of an end of a remarkable journey

You ordained every step of our lives to make
sure that we arrived at the gates of black and
gold in august of 2006. each of us thought long
and hard and prayed that vanderbilt would be
a humbling home, an encouraging atmosphere
the night before i left i cried because i wasn't sure
if these people who were my classmates
would understand me and love me

they love me and i love them. our class
is unparalleled and unprecedented.
from the
beginning, we fell into a massive freshman frenzy
of love for each other, stepping out to parties
in clothes freshly purchased to impress upperclassmen
and took pictures that deemed facebook friendly
and took some more that would never see the light of day
we rolled deep
arms linked because we were all
that we had and that was
more than enough
we knew we were
the flyest freshman class to do it
we threw up the X and bowed our heads
the symbol of our beautiful struggle
nothing else to be said but
some people
were quite vocal
about feeling otherwise

but when times got hard we turned to each other
i visited my "uncles" on dyer 3 when i had boy drama and
kicked it with posse 17 when i wanted to get away and
ate pub fries with the girls writing on the bricks and
hit the frogback with mikey at SLC parties and
played freeze tag on the lawn until we died laughing and
rushed the barracades when ludacris came out and
baked cookies with megan for boys we were smitten with
dropped 60 on cabrides to the mall to get a party dress and
lived with the vandy/barnard girls half of the year and
sat up watching videos with zach in vaughn house and
cried to angelica after coolio publicly molested me and
it was a crazy year

by sophomore year we had split
to different sides of the vanderuniverse
half of us in a social experiment called the commons
the other half on main campus and it wasn't
so easy to see the people we loved the most
and the workload got heavier as the days
turned into sleepless nights as we crammed and
we cliqued up and were turned off by some of the people
we had fallen in love with the fall before and before
we knew it rumors fell like snow by the time
second semester hit and unnecessary untruths
that had been building up found their way on to
a website that had us eating and breathing gossip
had us typing furiously behind anonymity
had us sobbing. brokenhearted. ready to leave.
i was ready to leave.
but my class
my family wouldn't let me give up and fall victim
to rumors and lies its funny
God
how the most
unfortunate situations can bring people
back together
i wouldn't let anyone play my classmates
i gave and received calls of encouragement
we were determined not to let anyone fall apart
the struggle continued

junior year broke a lot of our hearts
and scared us to death we were that
much closer to the world outside and we
had to get realistic about who we were
and what we wanted from this experience
we turned 21 with grace
sort of
and we didn't club nearly as much
as we did when "it's goin down" premiered
freshman year but anytime someone turned up
yo gotti's that's whats up
we would throw our books aside and my class
would get it in like we did when chancellor gee
popped into the lambda house and helped himself
to a drink we buckled down and got serious
about our futures but were never too busy
to show each other love
or to take another class x photo
for old times' sake

what i'm really trying to say Lord is please
watch over my family this year
may
14
2010
is etched into our hearts and we want it so bad
that we are spending summer nights
locked away in our rooms pouring
over mcat gre lsat books
falling asleep in between the pages
we're picking up these applications
hoping that a beautiful personal statement
will just come to us in a dream we are
leaders on campus who will be damned
if we don't leave a legacy for those after us and
we're excited
and a sort of sad
about moving in for the last time we have tried
our best the past three years we aren't perfect
and You know that but
together
we are a complete set nothing lacking
we are a culmination of dreams fulfilled
we are a divine perfection
we are the class of twenty
ten
anything before was lacking
anything after is superfluous
all our paths were elegantly planned by you
to cross and become a family
together
we are eXcellent
in the most phenomenal way
never in my wildest dreams that summer
three years ago could i have imagined
that i would be part of the most
eXtraordinary family that vanderbilt
has ever seen
we've been through hell and back but nothing
has ripped us from our seams and i
am blessed and i
am better because of every one of them
i pray that this year
be the best one yet but
i'm not worried
because You have blessed me with
a family
that has always
taken care of me

in Your name,
Amen

19 / 30 : spill.

2009-08-08T23:23:00.002-04:00

spill

i used to be a glass half full

but my contents are running over

the sides and flowing down

the counter and flowing down

the sides of my face i can

only hold as much

as i was designed to so when

you pour all this shit

into my frame

can't

hold

any

longer

it won't take long

for me to spill

all over the place

18 / 30 : blood work.

2009-08-07T23:26:00.003-04:00

today was a remarkably average day. i just just fill out "Today" on that mylifeisaverage.com site.

whatever. poem.

blood work

the human body is crazy

its weird that you can stick me

with a little needle and come back

with a vial full of crimson blood

and that's all you need

to tell a fairly comprehensive story

of what's going on with my body.

fairly.

because if my blood work was really

really accurate, it could not only

tell me that my kidneys are functioning

at a normal level, but that i am having trouble

deciding what pair of skinny jeans to buy

and i would be reassured that not only

my T cells are of an acceptable count,

but that my crippling fears over the

LSAT are in vain and if

it was beyond thorough

i would know not only that my heart's

beat is regular except

when i'm around him and his smile

which causes me to get off sync

but we don't want to know the cold

honest truth

about blood work or boyfriends

in a cold white room from

an old white man carrying a clipboard

and while its not healthier

its much easier to keep pushing these

thoughts away we'll reschedule that

missed appointment sooner or

later

17 / 30 : class

2009-08-06T22:27:00.005-04:00

lsat prep is so wack.

real housewives of atlanta / poetry break.

class

some women wear their class

like an expensive prada dress

show stopping. ostentatious.

but at the first notice of a

proposition

they slip it seductively

off their shoulders

and let it slide on to the floor

surrendering to a man's

standing salute of virility

you can't hide behind class

with an exposed bare ass

and humility simply isn't chic

behind closed doors

you can pay for school

but you can't buy class

you can pay for school

but you can't buy class

16 / 30 : to be loved.

2009-08-05T23:10:00.004-04:00

terrible shit happens in the world every day. but this

http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/08/05/pennsylvania.gym.shooting/index.html

story upset me and broke my heart from all sides.

and everyone gets mad at the shooter. which makes sense. its fucked up. and unnecessary.

but there is a story behind every tragedy.

to be loved

dear george,

i know those nights killed you

when you stayed at home eating

stale popcorn watching cinemax

movies on demand your ears ringing

from the sounds of lustful love stories

that you could never really identify with

were you that guy in the locker room

when all the other boys traded

stories about their manhood around like

baseball cards that just nodded

smiled and threw in a

'me too' every once in awhile

you wanted to have what they did

you wanted to bleach your shirts clean

from lipstick prints around the collar and take

her on a cruise of the allegheny navigating

her curves as the boat swayed back and forth

back and forth

but for whatever reason, you weren't

that guy

an invisible man with a somber spirit

and you spent your days masturbating

to your digital desires

ejaculating dreams of what you'd never be

all over your computer screen

that was the only way they'd ever manifest

into something tangible but they too

you wiped clean and threw away

and i wonder when you blogged about

your existence

in morbid details about

your depression

and your plans to detonate danger

into the core of my birthplace

did anybody hear you

is the blogosphere so vast that your screams

were met by mere echoes and echoes

did someone stumble upon it one night

dismiss it as a ranting of another

lonely tortured soul

and kept browsing

i wonder if when you

walked into the gym last night

you felt like a convoluted Cupid

inserting angered arrows

and broken hearted bullets

into unassuming women who

would never love you

did you peak in ecstasy when

every woman in the room

had their eyes on you

for the first

and last time in your life

did you feel like a bachelor

did you feel like a player

did you feel like a Romeo when

they were sprawled in odd angles

like fallen angels

before your feet did you think that

blowing her chest cavity away

would be the only way a woman

would bare her heart to you

and when you put the final bullet

into your head did you find solace

that three women

with loves of their own

waiting at home

succumbed to your piercings

of unrequited love

and died for you

was it worth it, george,

to rip a city into pieces

your family up in arms

their families in rapture

for you to finally taste

what it might be like

to be loved

15 / 30 : slang.

2009-08-04T22:56:00.005-04:00

half way home. hope yall have enjoyed the pieces thus far.

i'm in a weird mood. for the umpteenth time in my life, some goon today laughed at my 'accent' [that i don't have, im quite sure] and asked me where i was from? let's clear this up.

slang

i'm always strapped

when i open my mouth to speak

i'm slangin exotic verbs that yall

have never heard and the adjectives

i expel ricochet and ring in

one ear and get stuck in the grey matter

verbal assassin to the masses

my vernacular is unexpected it's

hella one minute and righteous next second

i'm tweakin, i'm illin, i'm flipped, i'm bugged

and while they try to playback what i just said

i'm on to the next yall niggas are lead

i'm dead

ass

suicide bomber of your regional dialect

i pick choose peruse and attack the next

memphis twang stirred with a jersey jolt

new york expletives and south carolina niceties

i need a muzzle on this mouth i'm disturbing the

peace

but at least they hear me when i'm comin

my dialect is dizzying homeboys askin homegirls

who this bitch be

nigga i'm wangin i'm wheezin i'm wilin i'm wicked

i'm bout it i'm bitchin i'm boosted i'm bitten

i'm sick i'm salty i'm stupid i'm siddity

i'm dope i'm digital i'm dumbed i'm dippin

they cover their eyes and run and hide

while i run a drive by on their dialect

decimating preconceived notions and

and the silly questions full of disrespect

i'm not a pawn of any region's jargon

i switch it up 7 days a week

step out the box you were placed in

and fuck your linguistic limitations

when i open my mouth to speak

14 / 30 : the LSAT.

2009-08-03T18:29:00.004-04:00

the LSAT

i just want to be successful

above all else

and i just want a good score

so i can move on

september 26th

will alter the course of my life

and i wish i was being

overly dramatic

i am tired of sitting at a desk

poring over logical reasoning when

my friends and family

are treating me in the most illogical ways

bullshit doesn't come with a scantron

it doesn't add up and it doesn't

make sense so how the fuck

am i supposed to concentrate

on an analysis of suzie's paper

on seal clubs from the artic circle

3 hours and 35 minutes

that can change the fate of me

the very thought

the very prospect of

doing poorly has me

sobbing in my bedroom

is seven weeks

enough time

to save and salvage

my life's dream

before it's deferred

and i'm deferred

from law school

13 / 30 : impossible: to the class of 2013.

2009-08-02T23:35:00.003-04:00

poem 13.

couldn't think of a more fitting time to write something

to/for my babies.

impossible: to the class of 2013.

to my children. all 83 of yall.

as much as nate and i have done our best

to shower you with knowledge and wisdom

of our collective experience at vanderbilt

there are some things that

unless you've been here before

are impossible to understand.

there's something about college,

my college,

his college,

your college, especially,

that challenges your definition of

impossible

right now it might seem impossible

to write two 20 page papers in an 18 hour span

no napping, surviving solely on naked juice,

muffins, and caramel macchiatos

turn them in, turn around

put the freakem dress on and party with the crew

like its 1999

even though you haven't slept in two days

and it might seem impossible

to get to a poppin party in antioch

on a dry saturday night

when you have no car, no friends with a car,

and no cabfare

but with a will, a way,

some sketchy dudes with a van traveling down I-40

and a few quick prayers

you'll be eating at the waffle house reminiscing in

no time

nothing is impossible because

vandy kids

don't

quit.

we are creative.

even if you can't swipe into a towers 2 suite,

there are literally 200 other illegal ways to get up.

and when you inevitably oversleep a test

you studied all night for, a little

bargaining and begging will get you

a second chance.

and when you are trying your damnedest

to get to the dorm but the vandy van driver

insists on taking the long route

faking drunken insanity will get you

dropped off at your doorstep

you are running headfirst into

the gateway of 'the best years of your life'

its lame and cliche but so sincere

there will be nights you'll swear you need

a camera crew to follow you

and there will be nights you won't remember

unless a camera crew was following you

there will be those study sessions with that

cute dude or chick in your econ class

that'll make you never late for econ again

and there will be those study sessions with classmates

when you don't even crack a page of the text

but you learned more than those pages could offer

and yet

there will also be those days that you wish

you could rewind time back to high school

when shit was simple and placid

and there will be those test grades that will

absolutely break your heart and you'll find

the life you planned out for yourself might

have to submit to an unexpected plot twist

and there will be those nights that the person

you were peepin at the party is cuddled up

with a muchhh wacker version of you and you're hurt

and there will even be those days

that nothing seems to add up anymore

you'll cry home to your parents

ready to pack your bags and start again

somewhere new

but you probably won't. because

vandy kids are tough.

despite the drama and the bullshit

i have endured the past three years

despite the tears ive shed and dreams deferred

i'm tougher because of it and

i've grown like a rogue weed. its

crazy. the friends i came in with are

my family. i'm convinced we have the same genes

in our systems and you'll feel the same way

about your crew too. at your first game you'll be

convinced you do indeed bleed black and gold

and you will start talking shit to anyone

wearing that obnoxious UT orange.

you'll start living off of chilis and tgifridays

no need for a menu, its memorized,

and you'll go to cafe coco when you want to

decompress and philosophize. you'll learn

when is the perfect time to make a grand entrance

at a party and you'll figure out the quickest

route possible to get from commons to buttrick

when you wake up late [8 minutes, if u slightly jog]

you'll do all these things and much much more.

and eventually you won't need to text

nate and i for questions about housing

you'll be hitting us up letting us know

where the party is at for the night

[thanks for lookin out, in advance]

and eventually, you'll be sophomores

and juniors

and seniors

like me. and you'll be blessed and honored to mentor

"lil mothafuckas"

like you.

who'll look up to you and

for wisdom and guidance

and ask you

questions that can only be answered

with a semi embarrassing anecdote

a dissertation of an explanation

or sometimes, can't be answered at all.

some phenomena are simply

impossible to explain

and some phenomena you won't

believe it until you see it

and you won't see it until you breathe it

and like my co-chair so eloquently put

"i don’t believe
in letting kids open
Christmas gifts
before the

25th"

i don't either.

i can't wait to sit back and watch

with a content smile that an exhausted parent dons on

christmas morning

as you all unravel and unwrap the impossible

for yourselves

when you finally

arrive

12 / 30 : training camp.

2009-08-02T21:29:00.002-04:00

my bad, the poems are on a backslide due to a suped up weekend. but i got yall.

training camp

usually in the summer months,

parents kiss their kids goodbye

as they venture off to camp

they'll have to do away with

some of the amenities of home,

endure the heat, and make new friends.

it's an american tradition.

with NFL families, we reverse that shit

i packed my daddy's lunch for his first day

at training camp

he whined about not having an apple

in his bag, his favorite treat

my mom helped him pack his clothes

and we drove him to kentucky

where all the other 'boys' were

kissed him goodbye and watched him

wave, listlessly like we were orphaning him

in the back window of the benz

daddy called probably 30 minutes after

as most kids do at camp once they realized

that they are really stuck at this place

he said he wanted to come home

and that his roommates, some of the other coaches,

brought refrigerators and he was jealous.

my mom told him to ask the other coaches

other middle aged upper class men

if he could share with them until he got his own.

he got all huffy and hung up the phone.

a day later daddy calls my mom

mad because the other coaches played a trick on him

he hates clowns and they woke him up

with red noses on their faces

and the other coaches and players teased him

on the field all day

my mother told him that they were just

being silly, to not be sad, and get them back

by making the players run extra 40s.

this made daddy happy.

a week later, daddy shows up back home

unexpectedly, saying he missed us a lot

and he missed his HBO even more

there is none at camp and he is going crazy

listening to chad johnson's foolishness

so my mom fixes him his favorite dish

and he watches some chris rock until

the sun sets and he has to go back to came

begrudgingly, like a seven year old going back

to time out

this year, camp is being filmed by HBO

so everyone is trying to be on their best

or worst

behavior, depending on what will get them

more camera time

my dad called asking for his lucky tie

because he had to do an interview and

he would feel nervous without it

we fedex him the the tie

along with a jar of swedish fish

and he feels much better

daddy can't wait until we can come and visit

and he can show us around, with bravado,

his new stomping grounds

its hilarious that we are appeasing my 48 year old

father like he is a pre-pubescent boy at summer camp

but after witnessing a water balloon fight last year

with 50 year old coaches and their 30 year old players

you realize that although times change

boys become men and these men take pride

in their profession

when you throw the first water balloon,

the playbooks go out the window and

the men become boys again

11 / 30 : biffers.

2009-08-01T03:59:00.002-04:00

im a couple of hours late but, give me a break.

its jazz festival weekend and my BESTIE is visiting.

im running on no sleep. i need to go to bed.

this poem is openly shitty but ALAS

biffers

angie,

its crazy how you and i

distanced by mileage and by time

can fall right back into the

exact

same

thought

pro

cess

within 5 minutes of being reunited.

its crazy how we've know each other

9 years now

seen ups and downs

and still are together

tight like thieves

better than ever before

my best friend is

my best half and

makes me whole

this is the gayest poem i have ever wrote.

its 4 am so i don't give a shit.

and i don't feel the need to

no homo anything i said

i would be absolutely

sick without you in my life

and you mean

the world to me

this was a very fourth grade way

of saying angie,

this year is going to be tough

but we have gotten through

every

single

obstacle in our path

slain the dragons

the demons

and the nonbelievers

with power and prayer and

perseverance

i'm quite sure

that the LSAT

will be no different

love always,

ash

10 / 30 : she got a donk.

2009-07-30T23:21:00.005-04:00

i didnt even plan on writing this poem today but hell.

BLACK MENNNNNNNNNNNNN. ugh!

she got a donk

july.30.2009.

textmessagefrom an oldflame:

11:05PM EST -

"ey, you should get yo titties done.

then yo chest will be caught up with yo ass.

just a thought"

when i was ten years old i was

a stick figure with a

donk

'a little package

hanging off my backside'

as my nana used to say

and by the time i was 12

i had to stop wearing leggings to school

the boys would run into their open lockers

peeking around the corner

late to class trying to scope out

my adolescent ass

it got so bad that my gym coach

had to pull me aside and suggest

i try some less form fitting fabric

but when i became a cheerleader

hell broke loose at summit parkway middle

none of the boys were watching the game

when i bent over to drink from my water bottle

i was thirsty as hell

and so were they

parched ass little tweens and teens

trying to get a bite of my backside

one day my dad and i went to the store

i wore a skort, innocent enough

age 13, couldn't even fill an A-cup

the bag boy dropped the peaches

on the floor because he was too busy

trying to bag me

my dad shook the shit out of him

and on the ride home he told me

that i will be wearing potato sacks

for the rest of his life

or he will castrate every nigga in a 10 mile radius

he came pretty damn close

by the time i moved to memphis

home of the infamous drive by,

roll down the window, and holla

i was stopping traffic on s. perkins and poplar

rims kept spinnin but cars full of niggas

stopped in midday traffic

asking me whats up with that 'gusha'

a phrase i was not at all familiar with

and i still don't respond to

the hoes that hated me were jealous

making rumors that i poked it out intentionally

mad at the fact that their shit was sagging

front back side to side

high school was treacherous because

my ass made me a walking advertisement

for a free fuck apparently niggas came at me

at my locker all kind of ways, speaking reckless

sometimes not even talking at all

just pinching my ass when i wasn't looking

running off and slapping their niggas high five

oddly enough my friends were jealous

being objectified was what was good in midtown memphis

and everybody wanted a piece of this ass

literally. sort of.

but i would come home and cry

stand in the mirror concaving my spine

looking like a chocolate crescent moon

to make my ass less noticeable

that's not the attention that the new girl in town

wanted

and by the time i was 16, 17, 18

it didn't even phase me when i would walk by

and a nigga would drop his girlfriend's hand

trying to check up on it

and when they called me, they never called to

ask about me

they wanted to speak to my ass

which, unfortunately, can't speak for itself

i'm old enough now to finally

appreciate my backside

when she got a donk comes on in the club

im the first girl on the floor gettin it poppin

and yes, i do it the best

i take this being thick shit seriously

no nigga is going to objectify me without my consent

so i take the texts and the catcalls in stride

these lames have been trying to get a good grip

of my hips

for years

but they always come up

empty handed

9 / 30 : letter from a doctor.

2009-07-29T23:09:00.004-04:00

this is another part of me that i don't really discuss even with my closest friends.

i really don't give a fuck if it's the shittiest poem i have ever written in my entire life.

and i've been sweating bullets and putting off writing even a semblance of what has been some of my most trying times for years so. this first step hopefully, will be the first of many.

letter from a doctor

dear ashley,

i'll never forget the first time we met.

you came into my office

with a cheerleading bag and pon poms shrugged

over your shoulder. mascara cast shadows

down your face. you looked around my room

carefully before you sat down. you said

with the confidence each seventeen-year-old

is assured that they have:

"there better not be any damn cameras in here"

as you crossed your legs and twitched

your face in disgust.

i assured you there were not.

"good. because i'm not fucking crazy.

let's get this over with"

you snapped.

you dictated the our first session.

asked me more questions about the validity

of my degrees than my professors ever did.

but

anytime i mentioned the word

anxiety

you would pull back from me like i had

slapped you across the mouth

wounded and vulnerable

embarrassed

"i don't have anxiety" you

snapped. "i just happened to be

stressed out. i have an AP english test tomorrow

and unless you know shit about hemingway

i've go to go"

and you left. i hoped that you were one of those

who really meant what they said

that you didn't need the help

a stranger like me to talk to

and would never have to return but

the next day

your mother called and told me that

you drove to the school parking lot

like im sure you did any other day but you

were shrieking

immobilized

swearing to God that you

were losing your mind that you

were about to die

and if she didn't kill you

you would pull the trigger yourself

you passed out from exhaustion

on your steering wheel and i

steered your mother away from her own

personal breaking point

"what had happened

to my perfect daughter" she asked as she

gasped for air. "when and why

did she become so scared

to breathe"

i couldn't answer her. i held the phone like

a lifeline.

it took you months of sessions

to finally lay back in my chair you were

too scared to relax

but when you finally did that day in

january you started to sob

it was the first time you had lain anywhere

in three months

you told me you'd been sleeping in a fetal position

in your bed against the wall

you'd wake up stiff and broken like

your spirit

you had a billion concerns

wrapped up in your small frame

"i'm going to have to go to community college"

you declared. "there is no way i will make it

alone. i'll be here forever and be a drain to my

parents and i'll die a complete loser"

i told you to think rationally.

you told me you were.

after we had finally started making progress

your mother called and told me that

your friend had passed away, unexpectedly

i told her to keep a close eye on you

and to be there if you wanted to talk

but instead you tried to follow the leader

dance in her footsteps that lead straight

to heaven

i never make house calls but your mother pleaded

it was 1 am on a monday night

i drove the 15 minutes between point a and b like

a bat out of hell

you were hanging like a broken ornament

on the overpass to I 75

with your family huddled by the forest

heralding me with songs of horror and grief

too scared to get close to your nearly lifeless body

too scared to leave you to plunge into oblivion

they teach you in textbooks

how to host an intervention

it usually involves a well lit room,

tea,

comfy couches,

and caring individuals in on the secret.

they don't prepare you for

coaxing an upper middle class black girl

with so much promise

with everything in the world

in her grasp

down from the ledge

i couldn't let you be a hood ornament

for an unsuspecting driver

i couldn't let your mother and father down

who put 18 years of their heart and soul

into to their "perfect little girl"

who simply could not take the pressure

of being perfect anymore

i couldn't let you leave that way

body flung downward

soul flying upwards

they didn't teach me in my doctorate

but i'm sure you don't

get to heaven that way

i don't remember how we got you

back on solid ground. and i don't

remember what i said. and i don't

think any of my formal training was

put to use that night. i just remember

the next day you and your mother

sat in my office

both wearing pearls and polos and pencil skirts

as if the night before hadn't happened

but i couldn't pretend

i told you that maybe you need to go somewhere

and get the help i couldn't offer

you looked to your mother who sat stoic

silent tears swam onto her blouse

you looked back at me and asked

with the most desolate face

i had ever seen

"will God forgive me because

I thought

He was letting me

drown"

for the rest of my life, ashley,

i will never forget that moment

when i set my profession

my degrees

and my title aside

the three of us sat and cried

grabbed hands and

prayed

-----------------------------------------

A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But He was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke Him up and said to Him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

Mark 4:37-40

8 / 30 : sail on.

2009-07-28T23:30:00.007-04:00

this is an awkward poem to write.

but i have a 4.0 in awkward so...

AND I BARELY MADE THE 12 MIDNIGHT DEADLINE

so it is as loose as superhead's walls. cut me some slack.

but not too much. ha.

sail on

i'm convinced that the sins you

commit at 3 am on a saturday night

in a city you can't claim as your own

are washed clean by the sun's rays

8 am on the day the Lord made

sort of.

but i can't shake the scent of you

stroking me under

psychedelic strobe lights and

i can't get the taste of your toxic

tendencies from off of my tongue

and

i can't fold away in a keepsakes box

the way i felt when you

furiously unwrapped me like

it was christmas day

even if i wanted to

and i don't really want to

so many moments in my life

merely float out to the sea of

lost memories

when i woke up the next day

i thought i wrapped up that night

tight with a scarlet ribbon and

sent it into the current

never to be heard from again but

the memories of that night

just

won't

quit they are anchored

to the dock of my mind

and it doesn't help

when you call me up crooning

hello sweetheart

with

sexuality and sensibility

waxing and waning in your

accented undertones i

find it impossible to hang up

the phone

i find it impossible to remember

my name

we remember to forget

and we are failing and flailing

drowning in a sea of sensuality

it can't happen again

but i can't escape your scent

your taste the way you

felt pressed flat

against me these

memories i set out to sea

seem to wind up on the shores

of my mind because when

you hit me up i can't help

but submit

and it's saturday day night

all over again

one more time

sail on

honey

good times never

felt so good

7 / 30 : atlas.

2009-07-27T22:58:00.003-04:00

i went to bed mad late.

i woke up mad late.

this poem is probably going to be off as hell.

but i have...23 other poems to make up for it.

atlas

in greek mythology, Atlas was a

Titan

who's name translates roughly

into hard, enduring,

who at the end

of a great war was condemned

as a most pressing punishment

to carry the weight of the world

on his shoulders

for all of eternity

on bended knee

and stoic stance.

terra nova rests in his hands

someone needs to update

these mythological stories

add a footnote at the bottom

or something

letting interested parties know that

a little chocolate girl from cincinnati

took over for Atlas while he went

on his lunch break

she has the

weight of the world in her little hands

he hasn't come back

and no one wants to step in

while she is sobbing salty tears

flowing from

the seven seas

i have not winced or cried aloud

the only one who put this weight

on my shoulders

was me

why did i

punish myself to be confined

frozen

on bended knee for all time

when will i ever be

sitting on top of the world

instead of my struggling

shoulders aching and shaking

underneath just trying

to keep it it balance

for everybody else

my head is blooded, but unbowed

but i can't

trust anyone else

to handle this responsibility

the earth would shake and

the quakes would reverberate

shaking me to my core

the punishment does not

fit the crime

my sins just don't add up

no matter how many times

i recount them

i'll wait and pray.

2009-07-26T22:17:00.004-04:00

jazz always gets me thinking and feeling.

listening to: john coltrane - i'll wait and pray

i'll wait and pray

i'm afraid one day my heart

will swell up in my

constricted and conflicted chest

like a hot air balloon and

explode

my soul will float up up

and away to heaven

caring so deeply about

so many people

especially you

can't be healthy.

every night i say a prayer

to keep me strong from one

day to the next but i always

make time before the alter of

God to pray for you

i pray for myself because

don't

know

who will if i won't.

so i'll sit and i'll wait

and pray

6 / 30 : honesty box.

2009-07-26T20:42:00.002-04:00

it's sunday. sundays are chill at my house.

the days have been so pretty. it doesn't feel like july.

i'm sure nashville has something in store for me.

i've been enjoying way too much pleasant weather.

anyway---

honesty box

no idea why, but my honesty box

must have a digital, neon

"please talk shit here" sign

because i have been getting

worked over

all summer long.

which sucks.

but today, i opened my box up

with the usual dread

brows knotted, eyes squinted,

my standard brace-for-impact face

to find a lone message

blue background

from a boy

saying:

you are so sweet.

why do you pretend

to be so tough?

i just sort of sat there

sight blurred and unfocused

as fat tears hit my keyboard

how did someone so

assumingly anonymous

see what's behind the mask

i really didn't have any

elaborate explanation as to why

i don the crown of an ice queen

when i'm feeling vulnerable

there was nothing poetic to

say so

i typed back a most deliberate

response:

i don't know.

he still hasn't responded,

hours later.

i guess my answer

sufficed

5 / 30 : touch.

2009-07-25T22:28:00.004-04:00

i'm the type of person

who's blood runs so cold now

that i need a tight embrace

to finally fall asleep

and this past winter happened to be

the coldest ever

in at least

504 different ways

and you would come to me

at the stroke of midnight on some

cinderfella shit

placed your coat on my dresser

unzipped your hoodie

kicked off the kicks

climbed in my bed and made it

hot

i'd be lying if i said i loved you

and you'd be lying if you said

the same but

i fell in love with your touch

each and every time your

skin pinched mine

my twin bed was so small but

it always held us comfortably

as long as we were intertwined

tight like thieves

ankles to ankles

knees to knees and we

breathed the same stifling air

until the fumes made us pass out

but in the early morning around 4

am i would often wake up in a panic

victim of a midmorning's nightmare

and i'd shake you off of me

you'd look so hurt

hurt

each and every time although

they were honest mistakes

i think

4 / 30 : the porcelain doll.

2009-07-24T20:32:00.004-04:00

i feel like i've done a few 30 30s now, but this is by far the hardest to write. even though its day four and im at home not doing ishhhhh.

the porcelain doll

my deepest fear is never being beautiful in your eyes.
and i feel at this point, that will never happen.
i've stripped myself raw. i am naked. i am here. look. my pores are open and exposed and my lips are parted. suckling each breath in with relish.
i want to be new in your eyes. i'm unwrapped and unraveled and empty. fill me up. make me whole. put a bow on my head, wind me up, and watch me go. i'll dance for you. i'll dance as long as you want me to. as long as you place me on your trophy case and polish every inch of me.
i put my makeup on in the morning and scrub my face clean at night. i lay in my bed in the perfect position to reach your phone when you text me. you always do. i never miss them. you have your own ringtone. my heart skips a beat every time i hear it. i pick up the phone with an undeniable sex appeal as if you could see me. passion oozes from my fingertips as i respond back. and i wont move a pretty little muscle until i hear you vibrate me back to life with a response.
forever is a fraud, so let's just get comfortable tonight.
i take pictures of myself and i send them to you, via the mail. i take them in black in white so that even my flaws look artistically intentional. i love to lick the back of the stamps. a part of me travels the US postal service. so when you get the photos, you get more than you bargained for. how much do stamps cost? do you want to taste?
i wear my sunglasses to sleep sometimes. on purpose. hater blockers. the sun hates on me, every day, around 7 am. it gets old. i'd rather lay in bed and listen to the vibrato of the house shake due to midday traffic. i am a useless disaster and i wake up like i'm a rockstar.
i read books upside down in my old rocking chair.
when i'm lonely, i have no problem playing solitaire. which may be the loneliest game of all time. after i win, and all the decks fade into oblivion, it takes me a second to answer the question that pops up in the grey box. Play Again? Play again? if i play again, and i lose, what will become of the game? the cards remain out of order and the game remains unfinished and unorganized. then i let 52 cards down and i can't let that happen on my watch.
if you loved me, would you really tell me?
or would you let me wither like a dying rose at the end of july in 100 degree weather. starving for a drop of sugar water or anything to sustain me. my pain is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. it turns you on. it makes you feel like you're alive. you'd rather let me die to get your high. you walk away. it's july. im wilting and waiting and you are walking away.
my legs are broken. my strings are sturdy. wind me up and watch me dance. wipe the tears from my lifeless face. i don't want to ruin my makeup. i'm your porcelain doll and im broken. so broken. but you think im more beautiful that way.
but porcelain doesnt just break. it shatters. like the pigments of a spectrum. i taste like red, and i smell like green. swallow me whole. your insides bleed. the residue will never do. lick your lips and look for more. i'm in pieces on the floor. i'm crying shades of blue. pick up my strings. kiss away the tears. this doll was made for you.

will i ever be beautiful in your eyes?

3 / 30 : pacific standard time.

2009-07-23T20:45:00.004-04:00

real talk... since i've gotten back home from chicago, i've felt disturbingly listless. i hate doing nothing. i hate worrying. whatever. poem three.

pacific standard time

dg,

you're usually the only one

who

keeps me sane at 5 am, my

preferred bedtime during the summer months

because the sun always bids me adieu

before it does you

on the california coastline

and we usually chat about silly shit

like queso cheese dips and the

absurdity of a restaurant being called

in and out and we'll discuss your dreams

however lofty they may be

of becoming a producer turned mogul

on some diddy shit

but last night, for you,

this morning, for me,

i called you up crying

something i rarely do these days

and i spit my problems out

like stale milk on the tip of my tongue

with passionate intensity as if i cried hard enough

they would be waiting on your doorstep

next to the morning paper

and in true demetrius style you listened

and told me to relax and chill.

while

i've heard that so many times before

from so many people who swallow

those very words when misfortune tracks them down

ive never seen you break a sweat

despite the circumstances the last three years

have brought you so when you say it i

chill

and quietly for hours we talk

about the things that really matter

on the fact that even you

get rattled from time to time and that

i'm far stronger than i'll ever give myself

credit for and what will happen to us

to all of us

in the year to come and

we laughed and we groaned and we grew

quiet

as moments ticked tocked into thin air

and i want you to know that after i hung up

the pain that, at first, seemed too much to bear,

a mere few hours later seemed

to have evacuated my broken heart,

leaving me with the capacity to sleep

for years we've been summer pen pals

having virtual slumber parties in june

becoming party partners in crime again

come august

but its good to know that

you care enough about me and

you'll never ever front

even though

you're three hours behind

2 / 30 : character building.

2009-07-22T21:58:00.003-04:00

character building

i fall asleep

wrapped tight in the arms of poetry

warm breath pulsing at the nape

of my neck

but i eventually i wake,

rub the syntax and synonyms out of my eyes

take a look in the mirror and

what the fuck

what the fuck do you do

when you're tired of being you

this poem needs to be shot dead in its tracks

i'm tired. i'm mad. i'm done.

1 / 30 : through the looking glass.

2009-07-21T23:03:00.006-04:00

back at it again. 30/30. this should carry me back to vandy, if i keep it up. i plan to keep it up.

through the looking glass.

this conversation

is beyond overdue

and maybe the overwhelming

scent of honesty in the air

has us hunched over our laptops

brows knitted

pecking away

our versions of the bigger picture

that we still keep in a cracked frame

on our nightstands

we've been antagonists for too long

two princesses at odds in different kingdoms

fighting over the same land

as if it were sacred. as if it was

blessed

and i dont know what has gotten into me

this honesty that makes me want to

take months of inner thoughts

and hurl them out for your approval

or disapproval but this sickness

called the truth

i need an antidote quick before

i say some shit that is so real that

i surprise you that

i surprise everyone that

i surprise even

myself

or maybe this is what i needed

to get all of this disease out of me

wipe myself clean

and lick these wounds

sign off of the internet

set the laptop down and

readjust the looking glass

i've been peering out of

so i can finally see

so we can finally see

past the seemingly insurmountable

hurdle that

used to be

russian lullaby.

2009-06-22T02:54:00.002-04:00

it's my half birthday. oh yessssss!

and i start school [summer @ uc] in the morning.

and im soooo chi-city in less than a month.

and my best friend will be soooo cin cin nasti in a month.

summer is about to get good. starting today

and what better way to usher it in than with a complimentary poem?

russian lullaby.

that's the name of my favorite

john coltrane song because it literally

lulls me to sleep, eyelids heavy

the cares and concerns of the world tucked

under my pillow until i wake

and right now the song

is playing but i'm wide awake

sitting up in my bed, texting

you and smiling inside when i hear

the ringtone back because

how could i possibly sleep

when you are on my mind

and i know i've gotten it so wrong

so many times this year

that i could be a jaded angry bitch

giving you the third degree

and on a questioning rampage but

i learned from my mistakes and

heartaches and i now know

that rushing in head first doesn't work

it's best to take it slow

and it's nothing but a crush

but i feel debilitated like i have got

to know everything about you

the reason behind that smile and

your favorite things to do on weekends

and the type of music you work out to

and. everything.

i'm trying to fall asleep

but you've got coltrane beat

F.I.L.A.

2009-06-10T03:50:00.003-04:00

in atlantaaaaaa. amazingness to the utmost extremest powerrrrr.

F.I.L.A.

we memphians have been raised

to hate on atlanta

out of principle

no real reason of merit

and i had never been

due to that fact until

my twenty first year

and now that i'm here im

in love with the sprawling city

with the district im in

with its quirky stores and

mom and pop coffee shops

with hipsters and gangsters

intermingling on the same curb

waiting for the crosswalk to suggest

that they walk across the street

together

and despite the marta madness

and the other glaring flaws something

makes this city larger than life

i know how long i'm going

to stay

but how long will

other obligations keep me away?

what?

2009-06-04T05:25:00.003-04:00

AHHHHHHHHHH MY LIFE! SENIOR YEAR WHAT?!!!!!!!!!

what?

i just feel that

everyone thinks

that im this

person

that im not

and sooner or later

the mask will fall

and the horror

of who

i really am

will have them all

set on their heels

and

running out the door

planes.

2009-06-02T00:30:00.005-04:00

atlanta so soon. it's crazy. summer is about to kick into overdrive and before you know it...lap 4 of 4. otherwise known as senior year. insane.

but until then, here's one for the road. or the sky. we'll see.

planes.

there's something that scares me

something so unforgiving

about a boeing 747 that

sets me on absolute edge

because if it falls out the

sky

the only one to catch it

and cradle it to a safe slumber

is God

so i'd rather stay on my two feet

plus four wheels and

traverse across the country

that way

but to limit myself and

to clip my wings so that

i stiffle my destinations

is not the will of God

i'm always

so worried

about falling

about failing.

cause

what

hap

pened

sprout

wings

take

off

and

soar

hide and seek.

2009-05-26T02:48:00.005-04:00

it's summer. i'm tripping until june 6th when i leave for ATL. so until then...random spurts of poems that hopefullyyyyyy i can manifest into something decent during the school year. after LSATs of course. but thats another story.

hide and seek

i've spent the better part of my
adolescent and young adult life
yearning for
the bad boys with sick wheels
the pseudo - intellectuals
the captains of the football team
the poets with no substance
the XYZ strolling at the party
the rapper with one mixtape out
and every time they've been
piss poor porta potties
full of themselves
from everyone's shit

and the past three years
in the gates of black and gold
the same story has been told
year in and year out but
some how some way
our paths must have crossed a hundred times
and my eyes were fixed on
an aluminum and tinfoil prize while the treasure
walked briskly down the promenade
head buried in his chemistry book
late for class

and i cant help but wonder if you're
a figment of my imagination
an mirage for my parched soul and
wounded ego but from where i'm standing
you look like the real thing
and i think that is what scares me the most

because
maybe i'm destined to marry a poet like me
and have him whisper sweet nothings
that dance in one ear and drudge out the other
maybe i'm destined to marry a businessman
who only speaks NYSE and WSJ
and looks up occasionally from his Economist
maybe i'm one of those girls
who get what they thought they wanted
because they didn't keep their eyes on the prize
like martin suggested so long ago

but now i see
that the beautiful blinding truth
with a beautiful blinding white smile
has been walking past me for semesters now
chocolate coated skin encompassing his frame

and i feel like i'm too late
but i can't help but look. and sneak a peak
here you've been for the longest time
while i've been playing hide and seek

weddings.

2009-05-25T16:01:00.002-04:00

there's something about a white dress
and everyone standing up
on their tippy tip toes stretching
to get a good look at you and
a good vertical headshot to put on
facebook/myspace/twitter
while you walk down the aisle with
your daddy

and you reach him
the man that you dreamed of
who seemed to have manifested himself
from old games of M.A.S.H. at 7th grade slumber parties
and now he is here in front of you
professing to the whole world that
you are his lady
you're everything he needs
and more
[he wanted you to walk down
the aisle to that song but you
said if he wants to marry luther
he could play it all he wants]

and then you kiss and then
you take pics and then
the reception is next
your uncles are drunk and toasting
to everyone and anyone who is listening
and his evil great aunts are whispering
in the corner about how the flowers in
the centerpiece arent classically tasteful
but it doesnt even matter
on a day like today you have
the rest of your lives to deal with the
mundane

to the men out there.

2009-05-14T22:43:00.005-04:00

so i need to apologize. i didnt get to finish my 30/30 blog because of finals! wackness. but i loved every day of it.
since then...im now a senior. crazy. i went to atlanta to work at a homeless cafe which changed my life. and i got robbed in the process..which is a story [or a poem] for another day.
now im back home. its summer. and.....the best is yet to come. let's go!

to the men out there.

to the men out there
especially you in particular
i cant let you walk away from
an unfortunate situation thinking that
all women are the same

and i cant let a black superman turn into
an evil villain, a bad guy
your cape collecting dust in the corner because
your heart was broken by
a careless woman
miss kryptonite

because we XYs
we were all made equal but different
leaving you in
the cold with one hand full of twelve roses
and the other empty with
no palm to hold
is something that i know that i would never do
to you

and if i ever met a man who took the time
to take me out every weekend
to call me up every night
to send me gifts just because he can
to and loved me for who i am
the way you did
for her
i swear that i would never
let his hand go he'd be mine forever
and you'dve put a ring on it
a long time ago because you see

i know alot of other women just like me
yearning for men like you to appear
but its an oasis out here and we're tired
of these god damn mirages so we'd rather be parched
choking on dust and sand
than crawl desperately to the next fleeting image
the next man who isn't worth shit
while you sit in your room throwing
those flowers for her in a trashcan
taking
the pictures of yall of the wall
putting them in a drawer
sobbing all alone
because the woman you loved let you go
and you can't figure out where you went wrong

let me tell you that not every woman will
appreciate your grandeur and affection
some women want to be thrown around and
roughed up before they know that love is real and
some woman will take your kindness and diamond karats
with smiles on their faces and run off in the sunset
tugging your heart on a string behind them and
some women may care about you but can't find
a way to tell you so and they may fade away
too

but please
don't let this discourage you
and don't let this encourage you
to become one of those men who treats
every girl he sees like a ho who thinks
of women as sperm dumpsters and not queens
who fucks them
who leaves them
who retreats them for the next usual suspect
who couldn't spell out the word 'love'
to save his life

i promise you that everything will be alright
despite that lately your day and night
have been turned upright have
faith
and believe that when you find the
woman of your dreams
that love will be ordained and she'll stick
around
no matter if its sunny or it rains and she'd
rather die than let go of your hand and
she'll tell everyone that you are HER man
then you'll really understand that

a good woman
is hard to find
a good man
even harder
and we're all tired
of playing these games of
hide and seek
lost and found
there are women who give
anything
to have you around so if
nothing else
this poem will achieve
dust off your cap, sweetheart,
you will save some woman's day
you just have to
believe

27 / 30 : cram.

2009-04-28T00:25:00.003-04:00

oh GOOD GOD MY EXAM IS WORTH 50 PERCENT OF MY GRAAAAAAADE AHHHHH

cram

everything i should have learned

this semester in 24 hours

is packed into my head

only to regurgitate it back

and pray for an A

damn. Lord help

me to cram this info in and

pass this exam

26 / 30 : sunday morning.

2009-04-26T22:34:00.003-04:00

today, i took it easy. church. post church brunch. post brunch nap. post nap chit chat with the bff. and now a post chit chat poem.

sunday morning

i can honestly say

although i'm ashamed to admit that

i woke up this morning earlier

than i ever do on the Lord's day

i haven't been to one church

in Nashville since I first walked

through the gates in 2006

my home church i love dearly and

the search for something new

seemed like a daunting task

that i have been intentionally

putting off but no time is better

than the present

even if the present is the last

sunday of your junior year

and we parked onto a gravel parking lot

which took me back to the old days

in south carolina in my

one room church and the pews

felt warm and worn and

faces i had never seen before

looked familiar and loving and

my bible that hasn't seen any church

since back home over christmas

opened eagerly to psalms 63 and

i fingered the pages gently

looking through the notes i had made

in years past

this bible is 17 years old and has been

through every spiritual up and down

that i can recall

and as i went to the alter and kneeled to

pray the tears fell because after all this time

after sunday morning brunches after

a scandalous saturday night and after

this year

the year that Satan tried to get me to

submit my soul to him over i couldn't help

but feel at home in the house of the Lord

and i wept

and along the way

i forgot somehow

that the house of the Lord

isn't just one church in Cincinnati

where they come together in his name

there He shall be

25 / 30 : a dream deferred.

2009-04-25T22:45:00.003-04:00

soc 201 final today.

.............................................

so tonight must be legendary, to make up for such occurrences.

a dream deferred

despite the fact that i let

the idea of you and me fall to

the waist side i cant help

that at night you slip and slither

your way into my REM cycle

electrifying my neurological motor board

with a touch that feels as real as

it used to be back in the day and

i've missed a few phonecalls and

appointments and probably a few classes

because any dream with you in it is so

tantalizing

my body can't seem to and

doesn't want to tear itself away

from being wrapped up in your

subliminal embrace because once

the tone from my shrill alarm clock

is heard you and i

are nothing more than

a dream deferred

24 / 30 : slam.

2009-04-25T00:59:00.002-04:00

exam tomorrow. going crazy.

slam

slam poetry is

the art of

being proud of who you are

and stripping it off

laying it on stage

and exposing it

for all to see

23 / 30 : colin.

2009-04-23T23:27:00.006-04:00

exam one was today. oh, rosie. damn.

and then spoken word grand slam rehearsals. we are bad asses.

poem time.

colin

i would never imagined that

one of my favorite people

on the planet would be a 19

year old chinese dude from LA but

life has a funny way of putting you

in the situations you need to be in

to meet the people that will make you

better

and our friendship is based on a

mutual obsession of the office and

making fun of other people and

staying up late and fucking around but

as trivial as all that may sound those

are some of my favorite memories

i've had this year

in ASB as far as placements go

we say sometimes they get the

group dynamic wrong, sometimes

right.

sometimes they get it really

really right.

and despite all of the

fuckery that looms on the horizon

i can take solace knowing that my

mariah carey every song havin

philosophy paper writin

cost-co surplus buying

wisecrackin buzzed haircut

bully/softie of a friend

will only be

a tower away

22 / 30 : drowning.

2009-04-23T00:23:00.003-04:00

to be a reading day, today was probably one of the busiest days ever in life.

check out my co-chair's blog over hereeeee. and 3030 hereeeee.

drowning

although i feel like

i let you down just know

that i'll never ever let you

drown and when you feel

that you are about to

go under or you need

to take cover feel free

to pick up the phone and

call up

me and i'll do what i can

to make the pain go away

cause you need to know

you're not in this alone

and if all else fails my home

is your home and i know you

think this is all fake and

phony sounding but this is

a cry to help some one floundering

before he starts drowning

21 / 30 : the LDOC.

2009-04-22T00:54:00.000-04:00

last day of classes, junior year. crazy, right.

but much to look forward to in the near future. in the meantime -

the LDOC

there has to be an end

if there's a beginning and today

i woke up with the end in mind

and in sight as i walked out of

my last class and prepared

to be a senior

but being a senior

doesn't mean that i'm immune

from mistakes because

when i see you and when

you touch me

even though it's the end

it feels like the beginning

all over again

20 / 30 : home movies.

2009-04-21T00:55:00.004-04:00

today started off terrible, but a game of spades and knockout wings sweet bread will make shit a hell of alot better.

and good friends too. and their embarrassing kappa beau videos [love you, ed and nick ].

home movies.

it's funny to pop in a video

or if you upgraded, a dvd

and see yourself and the people

you love during their most

prepubescent awkward times

i wonder what deems

certain events worthy of being

recorded like weddings and

births and not tortellini tuesday

or a homework session three weeks back

either way its funny how we

as a people are fascinated with the past

and reliving it and storing it

on film is like keeping that memory

that is floating out to sea on a

shorter line, tugging it slowly back

to the dock of our minds

19 / 30 : spaghetti dinner.

2009-04-20T00:57:00.002-04:00

this weekend was fucking ridiculous in a billion ways possible.

last real weekend of the school year. where did junior year go?

wherever it went...bye bye bye

it's go time

spaghetti dinner

i have some friends who

know exactly how to piss me off

but choose not to anyway and i have

those friends who text me just to say

hello because i was on their mind

and i have those friends that will argue

with me just because they think its funny

and bc i'll be a good sport and i have

those friends that come to my room

just to kick it and watch gossip girl

and i have those friends who

read this blog because they care about

the things i say and i have those friends

who can read my mind and write my autobiography

better than i ever could and i have

those friends that i've known for a year

but it seems like forever and i have those

friends that i've known for a year

but i'll cherish forever and

i'm a very lucky girl because

all those friends were in the same

room tonight for food and

fellowship and despite the fact

that they ate all the damn garlic bread

i'm blessed

18 / 30 : chasing pavements.

2009-04-19T00:17:00.003-04:00

today was a huge huge waste. literally, the entire day. didnt get back from hospital until around 8 this morning and my sleep schedule is fucked because of it. but at least i got a sausage biscuit out of the deal?

N E R D is playing tonight for rites...but i saw them last year front row and there's no need to be out with all of those crazy ass white kids. no no. let's go.

NM: here. 3030: here.

chasing pavements

adele has a point

if these roads lead to nowhere

why am i still running

if it's towards a dead end

lately i felt i am the only one

running this race but im

not in first place im dead last

which is sad

and i can feel myself slowing down

taking a break, hands on knees

head down, gasping for breath while

everyone else runs past me

i really don't care

it's to the point now that i just

don't want to run and i just

don't want to keep chasing pavements following

the footsteps of my friends

and enemies so i bring

a doctor's note from home excusing me

from participating in this bullshit so

i look on the sidelines

and watch

17 / 30 : siren.

2009-04-18T00:40:00.001-04:00

edit: i wrote this from the hospital waiting room via my blackberry. i couldn't line skip or anything and i like it better in it's original form. these are my thoughts and they were strung together and flying through my head. so here it is.

siren

I didn't expect to spend my friday night suffocating in the sterile silence of the hospital waiting room. And the ride over here in the front seat watching his breathe struggle to fill an oxygen tank had me in tears. This is my brother. This is my blood. And I'd do anything to help him. And when I heard the sirens blare I heaved a sigh relief and we rode together. I looked back and he was still there. I'm in the hospital waiting room surrounded by people bleeding and broken and all I want to do is burst through the triage door and have someone reassure me that he is going to be okay. But the way he looked tonight. I thought he was going to die. I thought he was going to die and it was the scariest thought I ever had. With the music from the Paper Trail CD being performed as the soundtrack of our ambulance ride, I'm not even mad about missing the concert. TI can wait another day.

16 / 30 : waltzing and such.

2009-04-16T23:36:00.003-04:00

today was a really fun day. nice weather. good people. greattt dance partner [love u j]

waltzing and such

they say that it takes two to tango

i guess the same goes for waltzing

its hard to be proper

and act victorianesque when

your dance partner is throwing up a yo

and you're wearing high heeled pumps

but waltzing is easy

when you get the steps down

and you stop thinking about the

1 2 3 counts and you just

dance

so after many attempts

and after i damn near sweated out

my perm jeremy and i got

the hang of the waltz and even

the right turn and we were looking

like professionals. sort of.

but despite the fact that we were

looking ridiculous most of the time

we had fun doing it

and thats the most important part

because in life, i guess

if the person you're dancing with

can't laugh when you mix up your

4 count with the 6

then a dance becomes

a death march

choose your partners

wisely

15 / 30 : the woes of the black president.

2009-04-16T03:10:00.003-04:00

today was a good day, & i had me a great night. sort of.

also: this is poem 15 of 30. half way home!!!!

let's go!

the woes of the black president

i'm not trying to get shot dead

on a balcony like brother martin

or lay in a pool of blood

in an auditorium in harlem like

malik shabazz and

i'm not trying to bailout the world

like my president barack

i just want to do the job

i was elected to do

but oppression from all sides

resistant to change

resistant to the fact that

new leaders mean

new ideas and new beginnings

some people just cant stand that

so they pack their things

and leave

and already i want to

throw the towel in and quit but

im too legit and

im the best man for the job

despite the fact

whether you like it or not

trust that im doing my best

for what its worth

but to get them to trust me

to really really trust me

this little black girl with chocolate skin

i might be more than they

bargained for

and im sure as hell

more than they can handle

14 / 30 : mommy.

2009-04-14T21:41:00.004-04:00

today was a good day.

nate marshall: here.

30 30 cypher: here.

mommy

i look pretty much

like my mother

and act like my mother

even though for years

i swear that

i'd never be want to be

anything like her

but im older now

and if i ever grew up

to be half the woman

that my mother is

i'd drop to my knees

and thank the Lord

13 / 30 : april showers.

2009-04-14T00:52:00.004-04:00

so it's been a few days since i wrote something legit. my mother was in town, my best friend probated, and in general, things have been wild. but here we go :

april showers

today was bipolar

pouring one second

sunny the next

but it seemed like no better time than

the present

to make the past

new again

and no one will ever understand

just exactly when or how

things fell apart but

everyone wants to give

their two cents

and if i sat and added up

everyone's two cents

i'd be sporting prada loafers

too

but the fact that its april

and things that were buried

can blossom

not into the same flower

but something like it

gives me hope

that this extended metaphor

for this unfortunate circumstance

too

could eventually bloom

12 / 30 : pageants.

2009-04-13T00:33:00.000-04:00

happy easter!

im exhausted.

amd it's my personal decision to not write a poem today.

the most beautiful words,

He has risen,

have already been written.

back tomorow.

xoxo

11 / 30 : my best friend's probate.

2009-04-12T00:26:00.000-04:00

so great news:

my best friend angelica crossed the burning sandz into Delta Sigma Theta land!!!!!!!!!!

so my poem for today is:

i have my best friend back.

she is a delta.

she is a diva.

she is amazing.

now back to my life enjoying my bestie.

10 / 30 : love.

2009-04-11T00:39:00.003-04:00

this weekend is finna be bonkerssssss.

love.

not the kind of

kiss you in the middle of the night

and hold you tight

type of love

but you love that you have for

your sister

your soulmate

your best friend

the kind of love

that can stand the test of time

can hurdle any obstacle

can move mountains

and after its all said and done

you can sit back and chat

like nothing had ever changed.

because in the end

with love like that

nothing will make a difference.

9 / 30 : girltalk.

2009-04-09T22:56:00.005-04:00

whoooa yes lord. got a perm today so im feeling fierce. but its supposed to rain tomorrow :( but its going to be a good weekend. my mommy is coming down and what not.

andddddd [drumroll]

in the new president of vanderbilt spoken word!!!!! a weekend to celebrate.

but before then....a poem!

as usual, nate prolly got off his ass and wrote a poem here. and u can be sure that there are dope poems on the 3030 cypher here.

girltalk

girl, don't you know that

i've been in your shoes before

thought the same thoughts talked

the same talk negativity oozing

out of my pores and bitterness

tearing away at my humanity

sitting here looking at you is like

looking back at me mirror image

of who i used to be but i refuse

to let anyone tell me to stifle my swag

and modify my destiny

and i wont let them tell you that either

girl, the tears that have dropped down your face

are identical to my own and

i've felt the doubt that you feel when

you walk into a room

and when the paranoia that they are talking

about you heads your way

turn your pretty head girl

don't let them ruin your day

because i let it ruin months and months

and ate me inside out

if i could turn back the hands of time

there would be no doubt

my attitude would change and my swag

would have never faltered

and when i see someone like you

being hurt like someone like me

i cant help but be bothered

you are beautiful beyond belief

and you have an unconquerable soul

your wisdom is beyond your years

and you'll conquer all of your fears

in due time

but for right now let this marinate

and i know it will hurt to do

but by the end of the road

when you turn and look back

you'll see that letting the anger brew

would do nothing at all

so if you can bear witness to your enemies

look them in the face and stand tall

trust me when i say,

girl, one day

you'll have

it all

8 / 30 : ink.

2009-04-08T22:55:00.004-04:00

so im at my spoken word meeting, which i guess is the perfect time to write this gotdamn poem.

today was legit crazy..did not sleep. had a test and a paper. i looked homeless all day. i pretty much fell asleep during my test. i wanted to hang myself.

and then i went to prison. to visit. and my day got alot better.

as usual, nate mahhhhhhhhshawww is over here. and 3030 is over here. dig that.

ink

thirty twenty something kids

seated in chairs facing six

inmates, felons, convicts

and at first the tension

stacked high like the berlin wall in 88

but then it fell down

as we related to their struggles

the man on the far left

claimed GD

the ultimate fraternity

the only way out is in a box

was decorated with

a million tattoos and

i raised my hands and asked

if he didn't mind

telling me what they meant

he didn't

he had hard time written on his knuckles

and other insignias

that he swore he couldn't speak of

dollar signs on his adams apple

marijuana up his sleeve

a six pointed stair on his shoulder blade

and he sure isnt jewish

on his back he said

because he obviously couldnt show me

a scroll with a knife through it

stabbed in the back

by his friends who he trusted

inked in roman gothic

saying Lord, protect me from my friends

because i can handle my enemies

if i ever got tatted up,

i'd probably get

the same thing

7 / 30 : hot and bothered.

2009-04-07T06:45:00.005-04:00

so its 5:45 in the morning and today i was listening to my itouch and i hear this crazyyyy noise. my fan broke. i like to keep my room cool. my sleep cycle is already fucked and im burning up in this room and i cant sleep so...why not write it out.

i'll probably end up writing another poem by the end of the day, which hasn't legit begun. 2 poem limits per day though is the rule. i'll adhere.

....but seriously, does anyone have a fan i can borrow until the end of the month?

hot and bothered

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tied is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity

-- William Butler Yeats

i can't help by lay on my back

in my room and i'm sweating

beads sliding down my furrowed brow

as i wonder where and when

things fell apart

my fan is broken and although im

burning up one of the main reasons

i keep it on al the time is the noise

drowns out everything in the hall

everything outside

everything in me

and now that i threw it down the chute

silence fills the room and

my thoughts are trickling down my face

and i can hear the pit pat of the

raindrops on this april morning

i guess i'll buy a new fan tomorrow

because i can't live like this

staying up until 6 am

worrying about these issues

that are suffocating me

with sweltering density

things fall apart

this i know to be true and i've

seen it happen so often this year

that i admit

that i've stopped trying to build up

what i know the tide will come

and wash away

but be that as it may

on this april morning i lay

veering between

a lack of conviction and

a passionate intensity

for the first time all year i hear

the kirkland bell tolling for me

im sweating and im swearing

that i'd stop caring

because these tools are to worn

to begin again

and why fight a battle

that you can't win

because things

fall

apart

6 / 30 : photograph.

2009-04-07T00:20:00.003-04:00

so i went to bed at 7 am, woke up at 8:45 for class, and somehow managed to stay up until 3:30 until i fell the hell asleep. bless my heart.

mondays suck. but poems make it all better.

as usual, check out mr. marshall over here. and the 30/30 cypher here.

let's get it.

photograph

im browsing through my macbook

trying to create a slideshow of

the year past and i realized

that these memories are still

burned into my skull and

etched in my heart no matter

how far i try to put you out of my mind

and theres a picture of the two of us

candid as hell, neither looking at the camera

your mouth is wide open

big white teeth gleaming

gear fresh as usual

my chinky eyes are wide shut

as i grin with glee

and we're sharing a moment

when nothing else mattered

when we were still

best friends

and its captured on film

for me to look at and to remember

the september

before everything fell apart

and if you're reading this

just know that this poem

only a few lines long

took me 30 minutes to write

because its hard to type

when im looking at this photograph

and the pain escapes

through tears running down my cheeks

5 / 30 : freeze. [like me]

2009-04-06T00:53:00.003-04:00

i'm exhausteddddddddd.

this poem is mad late! damn!

check out knasty knate's, one of NP's newest and un4gettable NUPES, poetry over here.

freeze. [like me]

i guess i must be getting older

or maybe i can finally

blame it on the alcohol

but last night after the festivities

after being cooped up in room 1108

for a semester i decided to have some fun

and i wanted to dance with you

all night and when i finally did

it was worth it and it was cool but

what i'll remember the most

about that party was in a

half drunken half sober

entirely honest mood

when i told you how i felt

about you

and after i whispered that in your ear

it was like the rest of the party

stopped

and everything

freezed

and for that moment in time

after i gave up the ghost

i felt really,

really

happy

4 / 30 : kongratulations.

2009-04-05T00:36:00.004-04:00

i'm running a little late but i have a good excuse.

my good friends nate and jeremy kame out as men of kappa alpha psi today. i kouldnt be any prouder of them and their akkomplishments!!!!!!!!!!

peep nate's blog, as usual, here. he might have something special written today :)

kongratulations

i woke up at 11

walked the bride across 21st

paid 23 dollars for a hat

definitely dropped over 100, easy

spent 2 hours making signs

running on 3 hours of sleep

almost suffocated myself with a number 5 balloon

and drew approximately 1911 diamonds today.

i am exhausted.

but to see my boys

show the whole world

that they are men of achievement

and men of good kharacter

brought tears to my eyes

and made every last cent

and ever last second

worth it

kongrats, nate and jeremy.

3 / 30 : lunch at rand.

2009-04-03T21:38:00.003-04:00

it's friday yessssssss.

right now now im listening to 'dream'. not 'the dream'. dream, the white girl group who was signed under diddy mad years back. dont judge.

as usual, hit up the 30/30 cypher. right hereeeee. rawness in its finest. nate has been blogging his 30/30 on this site so click his name on the side if u wanna get at that.

i got to catch up on my thursday night tv. let's go!

lunch at rand

around 12 pm on friday afternoons

every black person on campus

descends on the tables of rand

the flocks congregate and break off

into their respective groups

and talk their respective shit

about the mother fucker they hate

three tables over

these days i would rather take the

side door between chef james and rand

walk outside and walk down

but today i felt like i had been ghost enough

so i sat down at a table to catch up

the same bitches who i know hate me

gave me fake hugs and asked me how

i was doing

and with a frozen smile on my face

i told them i was doing fine, thanks,

and how were they?

and i would normally never go through rand

with sweatpants and a jacket on

sleep deprived, 24 hours in

because people would start talking shit like

oooh girl. ashley look a hot asssssss

mess these days. i ain't seen

her ass in a minute and WHAT

the FUCK

she got on?

but as the days go by

and as the year wraps up

i am realizing that i am starting

not to give a flying 747 fuck

about what these people

think about me

and as i was standing there

in rand with my chuck taylors

smudged makeup from exhaustion

for the first time in awhile

i had to admit to myself that

i'm tired of pretending

and performing at noon 5 days a week

and as i looked out in the faces

of some of my peers i could tell

that they want the curtains to close

too

so i walked offstage

got a cherry icee

and fell asleep

2 / 30 : balloons.

2009-04-02T22:29:00.005-04:00

balloons are something

we take for granted

until you're standig at a counter

trying to figure out how much

are you willing to spend

for an inflatable mylar container

that will ultimately deflate

or fly away

and even though

thirteen dollars is

an exorbitant amount spent

on balloons

for the people that

you really care about

you'd do buy

almost anything

1 / 30 : hoop dreams.

2009-04-01T20:17:00.006-04:00

day one. im excited!

check out nasty nate marshall's blog here.

also, wanna see more 30/30 poems? Holla!

hoop dreams

i woke up this morning

to ESPNEWS headlines blaring about

Beale Street Blues and

a Bluegrass Dynasty

and I see Mr. John

in a blue shirt with a different logo

talking about this new job

and his dream coming true

and i know that memphians are

pissed

hoping that this is an april fools joke

praying that

the king of memphis has not

abandoned his throne

but what fans will never understand

is the fact that coaches

like mr. john

like my daddy

have dreams too

and in this world

and this lifestyle they have chosen

there are no hurt feelings

its just business

but thinking about mr. john's kids

who i've grown up with

who have to move again

for the umpteenth time

like me and my brother

being dragged around from state to state

because of daddy's dreams

was something i didn't understand

when i was 3

when i was 4

when i was 10

when i was 12

when i was 15

but now im 6 years wiser

and im watching the tv screen

as mr. john who i've known

as long as i can remember

close a chapter and embark

on a dream

i couldn't be any prouder

to dare to dream

in the public arena is

the most courageous act

a man can do

and years ago when i was 13

sobbing on my bed with

moving boxes all around me

i couldn't understand

and i couldn't see

that i should step back

dry my tears

show my support

and allow my dad

the chance to dream

welcome to the 30 day challenge.

2009-04-01T20:14:00.002-04:00

april is national poetry month.

which is awesome.

and alot of poets across the country are taking up the 30 days, 30 poems challenge.

one poem a day. everyday.

my friend nate marshall did it a few months ago. it was sick.

he's doing it again and i am too.

so i'll be pasting a link to his blog as the days go by

and to other poets who are taking up the challenge.

april first, day one. enjoy the show.

makedamnsure.

2009-03-29T18:41:00.004-04:00

if i can think of any lesson

that i've learned this school year

that is slowly winding to a close

make damn sure

makedamnsure that you

know exactly who you are

and never forget

write it down

put it in your blackberry

set a reminder once a week

hide it under your mattress

like a 4th grade diary

scribble it on a post it note

and place it by your light switch

because if you don't remember

they will rip you up

and tear you down

and tell you that you

are everything that you're not

everything they despise

so before its too late

and you lose the faith

you better make damn sure

makedamnsure

you dont submit

never forget

day n nite.

2009-03-26T03:51:00.005-04:00

as much as i hate papers

and bullshit assignments i love

our study sessions

itssooooocutebaby

when you sit down next to me

on my bed posted up on the wall

with your book filled with crazy problems

numbers and things that look like squiggles

with your headphones on

tapping your right hand on the page

scribbling answers with your left

and its usually around 3:30 am that i

wrap my assignments up or

set my alarm to wake up at 6 to finish

i turn to look at you and your head

is bobbing up and down, exhausted

eventually one of us will fall over

or fall off the bed. so sad.

and we put the books and bookbags

and pencils and paper

on the ground and i crumble

into your arms under my covers

snuggled in the sheets ears pressed

against your chest listening to your heart beat

and by this point in the night

or the morning, technically

your arms always find a way

to wrap around my chest

stroke my hair and breathe into

my ear until you fall asleep

you usually fall asleep before i do

so im half dazed laying here

looking up at you

counting your eyelashes

stroking your cheek

until i lose count and i fall asleep

rinse

wash

repeat

a poem written when i should be studying.

2009-03-23T12:08:00.003-04:00

sometimes you need to just

do the exact opposite of what needs to be done

at the moment

right now i should be studying for

a general logic test that i'll probably fail but

this poem needs to

sprout wings and take root and be

presented to the world

and although everything is different

and i wouldn't have imagined it

six months ago things are

better than i would have imagined

and although last week i

threw up a white flag in defeat

this week i came out guns blazing

and although now things are more tense

on this campus than normal

in more ways than one

the storm inside of me

is calming down

and although my head is stuffy

im sneezing like a motherfucker

and im breathing like a creep

its time to renew and its time to

wake up

in the woods

2009-03-19T21:29:00.003-04:00

these days i feel like

im all alone

and next year

i'll get a big big room

biggest room on campus

more space to be alone

and next year

i'll be lsat prepping

and application writing

and internship begging

in a corner of central library

all alone

and after its all said and done

tassel turned to the right

i'll pack up and head out

to the real world

whatever that is

all alone

and i know that everyone says

that we'll be together

every step of the way

but here i am

in the middle of the woods

forgot my way in

dont know my way out

and im

all alone

a title-less work.

2009-03-16T18:46:00.003-04:00

so im sitting here in rand

waiting for probably the 3,000th meeting

this calendar year

i wish i was exaggerating

people watching and shit.

yo, i'm finished

i feel myself watching the

people who i actually gave a damn about

with a detached reservation

and watching the people

that i would have given

the shirt off my back for

off from a distance

with no remorse,

with no remorse

i feel like im drowning

in a whirpool of worries and

lack of empathy and sympathy

that i've concocted

and i'm too tired

and too frustrated

to figure out how to swim

with my head above water

victim services.

2009-03-12T00:23:00.003-04:00

so today in my prison life class

we had special guests from

the victim services of the TDOC

who discussed the other end

of the spectrum

everyone forgets about the person

who was killed

and the people who

loved them and focus on

the murderers and perpetrators

but luckily, TDOC offers

an amazing array of victim services

to give them closure

and a means to heal and try to move on

and while i was in class listening

and taking notes i couldnt help

but wonder

who is available

to give me closure

and counsel me and give me

a reason to move on

a reason to believe

but what if the perpetrator

who beats me up

who tears me down

who leaves my self esteem in

pieces on the ground

is no one

but me

kiki/living for the city.

2009-03-10T18:59:00.003-04:00

so i spent my spring break in jacksonville, florida

alternative spring break 2009

in charge of 10 other souls, including my own

trying to make a

semblance of a difference

in this world

[with a hell of a recession,

as my mother likes to point out]

and we worked at an orphanage

and i fell in love with a little girl named markeisha

kiki

for short

and she took my camera and snapped snapped

amazing pictures and she did cheer jumps

and she smiled wide and she

loved the color pink

just like me

and the first day i came to visit

i was wearing my pink sunglasses

and she asked for a pair

i told her i would bring them

and wednesday she ran up to me

after school with her hannah montana backpack

still attached to her lithe frame and she

asked did i bring them

i said yes

she jumped up and down

clapped

gave me a big hug

a big kiss

and said she loved me

and oh, she was a diva

from the moment she put those joints on

posing and demanding pictures of her

to be taken

just like me

and the day that we left

knowing that she'd still be in

the orphanage with no one

to call her own i cried

because i didnt want to tell her

that i was leaving and i would never be back

because that seemed to be

the story of her 6 year old life

and as we drove away i sobbed

and i asked my mom

if i could adopt her and she asked me

did i have room enough in my towers 2 single

end of discussion

but im pasting a scrapbook

of all the pictures we took over the week

and sending it to her

so that if she ever gets lonely

and thinks that nobody loves her

i won't be there but

i'll be there

and since then, i'm back at vandy

walking around campus in surprisingly

springlike weather

80 degrees

but still feeling cold and hard

on the inside

when i walked back to my dorm

i heard a crazy looking old man

with dreads

belting on the top of his lungs

singing

a boy is born in hard time mississippi

Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty
His parents give him love and affection
To keep him strong moving in the right direction
Living just enough, just enough for the cittaaaaaaaayyyyy

yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yeayyyyyyyyyy

and i smiled

for the first real time since i returned back

from spring break

and somehow he gave me comfort

that things may not be

all that i want

but maybe they're

just enough,

just enough

a message to whom it may concern. sincerely, ashley rhae

2009-02-26T02:41:00.000-05:00

to whom it may concern,
this is the last little bit of me
that hasn't been torn away
from the vultures and scavengers
ravaging off my glory

to whom it may concern,
i never gave up on you.
and you'll never know
how much it still hurts when
we walk past each other after
you held me that night when
i sobbed
and i put your weight on my shoulders
and watched over you and
you'll never know how i still
pray for you and hope
that this year has been one big nightmare
and one day i'll wake up from
the deepest sleep to the sound
of a ridiculous text message from you
but i'm wide awake
and
my heart's still broken
and even though you refuse to say
that you pushed me away
because we became too close
we both know that's the truth
and that's what hurts the most
and still
there are times when something
reminds me of you and i wanna
press your number
that i still have on speed dial
hoping in vain that one day we'll fall back
in place but i never make that call
and i think i never will
because sometimes when something dies
it's best to let it rest in piece
even though you left me in pieces
and i know you'd rather die than say
you feel the same way

to whom it may concern,
you came in on a gust of wind and
took my breath away with
the way you talked and even though
your aura had a hint of nerd i
saw swag and thought the world of you
and when things fell apart
between us and i know that
i can't blame you for everything
you still stayed around to make sure
that i was okay and
i'll always respect you for that
and i don't hear your ringtone as much
as i used to
and admittingly
as much as i like to
every time i see you i still wonder
how it would be if
i was your girl
but even if that day never comes
i'm perfectly content on watching you
evolve into a hell of a man
from a distance
just know that i'll always be
your biggest fan

to whom it may concern,
i spent so much time
watching you in terrified awe
of your entire demeanor and
even though i thought you were
a complete bitch i wanted to grow up
to be just like you
in every aspect
so when you took me under your wing
and invested time in my little
sophomore year problems i was
flattered and excited to have
a big sister figure doing big things
and while i admired you
everyone kept telling me that you were
as petty as you were pretty but i
defended you time and time again
until a phone call
turned you from a saint to a sinner
in minutes as acid poured from your tongue
into my unassuming ears
when you told me that i
would never belong and
after i hung up the phone i didn't cry
because of what you said but the fact
that you thought so little of me
all along

to whom it may concern,
when you came to me on a
cold january night i never thought
you'd be a guest star in so many
of my dreams night after night
and i never thought that i could
get over the superficial and
what everyone would say but
your heart im sure is bigger than most
and you did what
the rest of them were either too scared
too uninterested or
too uninvested to do
you listened to me
and cared about me
despite the fact that i know that im
a work in progress
and when i look into your eyes
i get lost and when you smile
i get butterflies sometimes and when
you sleep sometimes i watch you
and wonder why He made our paths cross
but i won't question a blessing
and even though, baby, i'm messing
up all the time
work with me

to whom it may concern,
i know that was you
who left the most hateful message
in my honesty box that i have ever received
and i know you can't read this because
i blocked your bitch ass but
i have to thank you for reassuring me
during a time that i was wondering
what my purpose on this campus is
so, sweetie you helped me realized
that i'm around to make people like you
want to step their game up and
spend hours on dictionary.com trying to make sure
the hate mail they send me is in proper english
and spend all their paycheck trying to
style on me even though you don't come close
and waste hours on facebook looking through
my albums trying in vain to find a picture of me
slipping up
so to you, ma'am, i'll never speak a word
yet i can't help but smile smugly when you
walk by
but your message i heard
loud and clear
and in response to your question
which i never got around to answering back then
yes, i am the shit
ask around
if you need references

to whom it may concern,
although a year ago i barely
knew you and i still don't
extremely well you have this incredible
warmth that radiates from your soul
and anytime i'm in trouble
or have a moment of doubt
i can call you or text you and
you'll offer your time or
a hug or
reassurance and
i'm convinced that you
don't have a bad bone in your body.
i know that you're my 'auntie' by default
but you've become family to me
as time wears on and
some days i wish that other people
on this campus
in this world
had half the heart that you do
but until they do
i appreciate you for everything
and every way you have reached out to me
and i hope
that i can only be as good of a person
as you are
some day

to whom it may concern,
it would be a lie to say that
im content with where we stand right now
and im upset that
i spent the entire school year
defending your character
to people who tried to defame it
and i spent last year concealing my hurt
so that you could get your glory
but i cant lie to myself
and to anyone else and say
that you're as good as gold and
an angel you don't know
that i know
all of the petty things
that you have done to others
that you have said about others
because you think
for some reason you are better than them
better than me.
but instead of shouting to the world
all the ways that you fall short of
being a genuinely warm person and
exposing the person behind the mask
i feel that i don't need to because
you know that you can't fight
the monster you've been molded to become
so i'll sit here in silence and pray to God
to take it easy on you when it's time to
learn the lessons you missed
when you were off being a bitch
because He knows
you know not what you've done

to whom it may concern,
to whom it may not concern,
for everything you've done
be it good or bad
be it right or wrong
thank you.

the love show.

2009-02-18T00:50:00.002-05:00

so on saturday night

weeks and weeks of hard work

came to fruition

that morning was rough

i barely ate breakfast

sat through a mean ass perm

that burned like hell

took a cab a half a mile because

i was late for dress rehearsal

had to take a cab a half mile back

to get my medicine

and get my foundation

and get my life together

but by 6 pm things had settled down

outfit one, was on and i was feeling

semi confident until i heard

hundreds of voices laughing and applauding

as the other acts went on before me

and my knees started shaking and

i prayed to God to not let me pass out

not after all this

so i went on stage three times

and found the courage to speak from my heart

especially during my solo

with my black dress pink heels

center stage, one spotlight

on me

and debangshu told me 5 minutes before

"don't rush this moment

when you get on stage

take a second and let them soak your presence in

and then take that first breath

utter that first word

and own that stage"

so despite the fact that minutes before

i needed kelly to hold me up

i walked on stage

grabbed the microphone like

i had been born to perform

and spit the truest piece i have written yet.

and i walked off stage

to thunderous applause.

hell.

maybe i was born to perform.

alone time.

2009-02-12T04:42:00.002-05:00

lately i've been so busy that

alone time is a luxury that

i haven't been able to afford

no matter how much i plan ahead

scrimp and save

there's always something to do

and someone to do it with

but it's been so long since

i've heard myself thinking outloud

that im beginning to wonder

if i've lost my voice

or if its merely muffled

by the moans and groans of the day

and i know that this is the life i chose

and this is the path i opted to take

but the fact that i have to ask someone else

can they hear my heartbeat

because i'm drowning in white noise

and dense crowds

is a problem

breathe and stop

2009-02-01T21:19:00.003-05:00

i look on my iCal

[thank goodness for this macbook

or my life would be in shambles]

and i realize that

there isn't a day "free" on my

calender for the next two weeks.

and while i've done it before

and i'll do it again

because He created me to climb

bigger mountains and fight

greater demons

is there any shame

in taking a break

to breathe and stop

hard time.

2009-01-27T21:35:00.002-05:00

i'm doing research on

a prison that i will be visiting tomorrow

actually, correction -

a correctional facility -

and i stumble across a blog

fueled by a desperate wife

missing her husband

hopefully getting parole in

1 year

7 months

4 weeks

3 days

18 hours

and 57

55 seconds

so that she can sleep in his arms again.

and i cant help but hope

that God finds a way to dry her tears

and hold her tight

if worse comes to worse

as things quite often do

and two years from now

the pillow on the

other side of the bed

is still as cold as it has been

in previous years past

lately.

2009-01-16T08:22:00.004-05:00

"he makes me feel so good/

better than i would by myself/

or if i were with somebody else"

-paraphrased from T-Pain's "Can't Believe It"

Lord give me the strength to

look past those who lied to my face

forgive those who failed me

pretend to ignore their hurtful comments

save myself from their devilish ways

distance myself from those who don't matter

love myself really and truly above all others

and Lord, if You can,

let me be open to the blessing

of new people wanting to be in my life

especially him, sleeping peacefully,

as if we've known each other

for all time

reading in the dark.

2009-01-14T09:35:00.002-05:00

i said i could do 18 hours

and theoretically i can

if all i do is grind grind grind

eyes wide open

mouth wide shut

but i never intended

so early on in this round

to have been knocked down

by so many people

so many times

i'm up early trying to finish this book

that needs to be done by 1

which is impossible because i have

classes at 10, 11, and 12

every light in my room is on

but it feels like i'm

reading in the dark grasping

for the sentences to make sense

to my puzzled brain

i cant even focus on

black rage in the prison system when

my mind is wrapped around

29919194 things at once and

i really just want to

lock myself in my room

the rest of the semester and

read and read and read but

i know no matter how many

300 watt lightbulbs i plug in

i won't be able to see

the words on the pages because

the darkness has blinded me

and i'm choking on my tears

untitled

2009-01-09T00:57:00.002-05:00

the people that you care about the most

will always let you down

the people that you care about the most

will always let you down

so stop caring

the journal.

2009-01-06T05:34:00.006-05:00

so i woke up this morning

to a most familiar voice

telling me he's downstairs

with a belated birthday gift.

so i hop out of bed

[turn my swag on]

and greet him in my slippers

he hands me a beautiful journal

full of empty pages

except a note from him in the very front

full of silly jokes

and words of encouragement

to keep writing.

and for years i have shied away from

real live tangible journals in fear that

they would get in the wrong hands or

someone would blackmail me or

one day

i'd look back

and see the pain on every page

and know that this paragraph

on february 18, 2009

is jumbled and unreadable because

i was sitting on my bed

mascara running, gasping for breath

sobbing.

but after he left i looked at

and held up this

brown and gold bound up

gift from one writer to another

and i sat down at my desk

and carefully and painstakingly

thought out loud

and to my surprise

the words found their places

on the page

perm.

2009-01-03T21:24:00.005-05:00

every six weeks or so

i have to drag myself out of bed

at some ridiculous hour

and make my way to roselawn

where my beautician's shop is.

i hate getting perms. but by the time

six weeks rolls around my coarse

black roots are too thick to handle

so i sit in her chair, let her base

my scalp like a turkey and proceed

to light my head on fire.

but before all this happens,

she sifts through my hair to get

a general idea of whats going on.

and apparently, your scalp

can tell alot about whats going on with you.

she said, ashley,

your hair seems to be shedding

a little bit. it's not as full as it was

when you came in before school starts.

what's going on? are you stressed?

i thought about responding back,

well yes, ms. crystal,

i have had the semester from hell

and i just finished the finals from hell

and i have literally been pulling my hair out

in tears from stress plus i've been

looking for internships and

i lost my best friend and

my bank account is perpetually on E and

i've doubted every friendship i've ever had and

that's why my hair has been shedding.

but instead of doing all that,

i just gave her a sheepish smie

and said

yes ma'am.

somebody.

2008-12-27T06:50:00.003-05:00

sometimes i wish

that i could meet

that somebody

who would save me

take me away

from this place

and lead me

to happiness.

wherever that may be.

and then i wake up

from delusion and

i realize that the only

person who can

get me to where

i want to be

is me.

and i know

i don't believe in

a man turned messiah

to take me in his arms

wipe my problems

and my tears away

and every man

i have ever met has

let me fall

let me slip

let me down

at some point or another

so somebody,

whomever you are,

wherever you might be

if you're out there

take your time.

i'm still working on