Oh, White People

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If you can’t muster the courage to be an ally– at least be very mindful of what you do say!

Oh, white people it’s going to touch you

How much longer do you think you can ignore it?

You love your favorite basketball player, but the racism—you didn’t sign up for it

But it only starts with Lebron

It doesn’t end there…it goes on

It’s your boss, your neighbor—even your best friend becomes hate crime victim

While you sit idly by, still pretending there is no racism

I mean, what year is it?

You are above it

You voted Obama as president

You deserve the right to be passive and silent

 

I am just so curious

I need to know how long does it take to notice the elephant in the room has already had babies

And is raising an entire dysfunctional family

I am not asking you to fight for me

Just wake up and acknowledge that yo, you fucked up, B

Every nigger joke that you let slide—hell, every nigga lyric you rapped

Every all lives matter post you hashtagged

You don’t get it, and now you missed it

The revolution has already begun, son

And you have chosen Switzerland

Because of that we can’t be friends

I don’t have the luxury of ignoring social unrest

My mental is distressed

My brothers and sisters are dying

Please don’t say you don’t know why, because in the back of our minds we want to say fuck you

And your whole crew, too

We were brought here for your labor, allowed to stay for your entertainment

Cultural confinement

It feels like living in a zoo

And it’s cute when we have our rallies and marches as long as it doesn’t bother you

You are not neutral

You are lazy and apathetic

You are pathetic

And it ain’t right but I almost have more respect for the so-called “alt-right”, at least they had the balls to choose a side

You hide

Behind Facebook reposts and thumbs up on Kiana’s status

You don’t know what it’s like to live like this

It’s going to touch you

Better yet, hit you like a ton of bricks

And it will be too late to ameliorate this shit

“Black people should just stop committing crimes” is a phrase that echoes from your privileged lips

Tell me, who deserves to die from selling loose cigarettes?

Or for wearing a hoodie while carrying a Skittles packet?

Or from routine traffic stops

Just stop

And take this moment to tell yourself the truth

You don’t care as much as you say you do

OR

Maybe you fear the work involved and the loss of friends

Just remember, when you choose no side the evil party wins

 

It’s going to touch you

Creep into your soul; haunt your dreams at night

You Netflix and chillin while the rest of us are at war and we fight

I hope your grandchildren ask you your thoughts on fundamental civil rights

I hope they want to know where you were during the real emancipation

And I hope you give in and tell them something real

That you checked out because you just couldn’t deal

A “Fuck Trump” bumper sticker is as far as you could go

You didn’t know your voice could have a powerful impact

That you could do your part to pick up the slack and help bring decent humanity back

America is bullshit right now, for us it was never great

Your silence is not a worthy component to conquer all this hate

So sorry to wake you up out of your comfortable slumber

But are you grabbing a bucket or is this ship going under?

There is no fence to straddle

There is no grey, just black and white

Just wrong and right

…you gotta choose

Because my friend, it’s going to touch you

 

I have said it once and I am saying it again; I do not like talking about this stuff on the blog. The subject of race, politics, religion etc. is a minefield! As a practitioner and teacher of empathy I acknowledge that it is difficult to communicate with people in such a way that they not only come to an understanding of your personal plight, but also make the effort to change their way of thinking. Furthermore, addressing a group of people who consider themselves peaceful, non-combative and believe they are genuinely good people, free of bias and prejudice could perhaps even have me labeled as a bully. But it’s my blog, so here we are…

I was born and raised in the Washington, DC area. I live in Prince George’s County Maryland—one of the most prominent and prosperous black counties in the nation—and I have always worked in either DC or Northern Virginia. For those who don’t know, Southern Maryland, Northern Virginia and Washington, DC is known as the DMV and is home to a unique culture in and of itself. We are a melting pot of different ethnicities and diverse backgrounds on top of including the nation’s capital where all the dirty politicians dwell. Because of our culture of political correctness I never understood the different levels of racism, prejudice and bias until well into my twenties.

As a teen in high school I didn’t understand why none of my white guy crushes liked me. When I entered into the workforce at 19 I didn’t understand why white people were so taken aback by how articulate I am, and I didn’t really understand that white people were capable of appearing woke as fuck, but more than likely went home to their white lives and immediately stopped giving a fuck. In the DMV area we are the nucleous. News stories have a deep impact here and if you are not talking about Kaepernick, insert-protest-march-here or Trump’s latest tweet then you are not a part of the conversation. Washingtonian white people are a part of the conversation because it is their business and in their best interests to be so. However, it took me longer than I’d care to admit to realize that being in the know is not the same as giving a fuck.

For me, the worst kind white people are those who immerse themselves in black culture and claim to not see color but do not consider themselves allies nor do they want to acknowledge that the need for allies exist. I sat in silence during the election season as I listened to my Republican friends say things like, “Ugh, I don’t know who to vote for– both Clinton and Trump are so awful!” It felt like a stab in the back to my face—if that makes sense. I thought to myself, “So you are ok siding with racism and misogyny because your loyalty is to your political party and not decency and humanity? Duly noted.” I didn’t purge as many friends as I probably should have, but I peeped the bullshit and I am aware.

I am aware of the white people in my life who remain silent or eerily neutral when the topic of racism comes up. I am aware of the white people in my life who are uber liberal arguing you down about feminist rights, pontificating about LGBTQ rights and debating you about the top ten hip hop albums of all time. But, I peep when those same people are passive, evasive and vague during group conversations about race relations as if they are too afraid or unwilling to say, “That is racist. That is unjust. That is not ok.” Period. I liken it to a silent gaslighting where I literally begin to feel like as if I’m crazy and I ask myself “Am I playing the black card? Was that shooting indeed a racist act of violence or am I overreacting?”

The kind of white person that quietly wonders to themselves why all lives don’t matter and loves black people but wishes we would chill and stop getting shot is fast becoming my least favorite kind of person. Maybe I am getting old, but I just can’t fuck with the duplicity like I used to. As tensions rise in our country, I am starting to treat silence as acquiescence. As much as I hate covering these kinds of topics I do it because it’s my life—and my life and my reality are not up for debate or opinion.

If you can acknowledge that fake news and sensationalism exists, then why can’t you admit that racism still does? Obama voted in as president does not magically erase the disturbing history of a country that was built on the backs of African slaves. Ignoring the existence of racism is a dangerous game—a weak one. It takes strength to dare to step out of your own delusion, admit that injustice exists and to check your own privilege and prejudices as well as those of your peers. It takes strength to make the decision to stand up to bigotry and hate when the safest move for your physical and mental health might very well be to try to remain neutral. The decision is not going to be easy, but you must decide.

If only people of color had the luxury of making such decisions.

 

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This is a Subpost

I am a 33 year old woman, I like to think I know a few things. For instance, I know that a lot of things in this life are temporary and that life itself is not fair. I know that love is not a fairytale, it is actually pretty rare and there doesn’t have to be a bunch of pomp and circumstance surrounding it for it to be great. However, I still stumble over the fact that two people can go through the trouble of finding each other and falling in love while somehow still being unable to work things out to be together. 

Apparently, all the wonderful things about a person can be trumped by just one bad trait or circumstance or belief. All the wonderful things about a person can somehow not be enough if they aren’t able to give you the one thing you really need to feed you soul. All the wonderful things about a person can rip your soul to shreds when it comes to making the tough decisions about your future, goals and expectations.

All those wonderful things will have me up at night for a very long time contemplating the magnitude of what I have sacrificed…

this is over

If you are no longer faithful, please let me go

because I am lonely and I’d rather be lonely alone

without expectation of physical touch that you choose to outsource

while I am too disconnected to realize that we have run our course

this is over

and so is my willingness to tolerate neglect

and to believe that somehow you were offering me your best

you were never ALIVE

you were soulless carcass

you…were heartbeat’s rest

stillness and calm before a storm that never came

rainbow, shooting star, cool summer rain

lucky penny, four leaf clover

but this…is over

as well as my desire to live out my days while sober

I need drugs to help cure this persistent ache

only so much one soul can take

if I can’t die, I at least deserve the option of not having to be awake

without you 

I’m not sure how that life even goes, I have been you

you are everything and all that I know

the more I need you, the more it seems to just push you away

and I weigh the bad times against all the good and I stay

knowing we will never quite love each other the right way

this should be over

but you are so lost in familiarity

whereas I am madly in love with you completely in awe that you’ve chosen me

insecure within your security

driven by jealousy and abandonment issues, I love yous turned into I miss you’s

and I got scared

and we both lost our grip on each other

I fear i may have nagged you into the arms of another

or maybe you just realized that I was not worth the maintenance

lost the will to fake it and checked out of relationship in broad daylight

we tend to exist in twilight, you and I

and I am not quite yet ready to go dark

let’s go back to the people I know that we are

let’s start over

seriously, can we start this thing over?

I already taste the agony from missing you advance

you haven’t even left yet

and I am never sure if I actually want you to go

I just want my brain and heart to finally reach a consensus

there is no future in this

baked cookies and blended families are a complicated fantasy

that pushes the boundaries of intimacy you are willing to show me

your damaged love will not grow me

just as my unconditional love will not change you

the smart decision is to be through

after we have traveled around and around; dark places took us under

we will never reach the level no man can put asunder

and no matter how much I wish it, I will never be your heart’s rightful owner

you will never turn it over

we are only getting older

this

is over

Shattered Pieces

I have a thing for broken men
I am no fixer, I just want to lay next to their shattered pieces
to worship
Cut my cheek on jagged edges
Taste blood as it runs down my face
And I tell myself this is what alive feels like
Knowing the both of us are really dead
Slow bled out a long time ago
But the truth is never real as long as you say it isn’t so
And I’ll probably never leave you if you tell me not to go
I am unhappy
But it’s my favorite dress and I tend to wear it so well
How it fits like a glove over the exaggerated swell of my hips
Just past the honey bee tattoo you used to lick and kiss
But I haven’t seen you and your tongue is fast becoming a memory
Visions of our future are slowly erasing, fading
Trading themselves in for loneliness and neglect
The irritable clench of your jaw as I pleaded and I wept
For the us that I thought we could be
Watching your passion transform into apathy
It was beautiful sad, it was just like you
It was sleeping late curled up in bed …the countless times you’ve never come through
I watch you stop caring and I withdraw further into myself
Tell me, are you so much in love with yourself you have none to spare for anyone else?
Or maybe just a little more for me
See, I’m a bit tired
Of waking up to missed text messages that I wonder if you sent because you knew I was asleep
And of leaving voicemails laced with desperation after the sound of the beep
Wishing for time and touch with abated breath
Flat lining on this table, you are the surgeon with each incision I fear you will call a time of death
Love doesn’t live here, didn’t give enough notice when it left
and I am being evicted in its wake
Let me stay, give me more pain I promise you I can take it
I am a pro, an underdog a masochistic hero
And besides, I am a lot more crazy than you know
I have  thing for you
I am obsessed with your shattered pieces
Let me lie prostrate, and let’s sit in silence as I worship
At your feet

**********************

I’ve been reading articles lately—trying to find out what psychologists have to say about ways to love and, more importantly, ways to keep it. Something about retaining it is not my strong suit; it always slips through. Or, I hold on too long and I don’t know when to let it go and stop trying. People are hard to read these days, they don’t tell you when they’re through with you, they try to hang on to you while simultaneously reaching out to something more, something BETTER or just different. Society is insatiable and cruel. I seem to only be left with the prayer that everything will end up alright in the end—because I’m tired of spending a relationship’s duration flinging cheating accusations and keeping tally of love lost and considerations that slowly diminish with time.

Loveland Art Image 2

Loveland Art

I can’t stomach another break up—break apart. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with this level of trial and error; the stakes are too high. I’ve given of body and time, spirit—pieces of me I won’t be quite so generous with the next time around. I’m only 32 but kind of feeling like I’m getting too old for the “next time around”. After this age it seems like we’re all kidding ourselves, arriving at the door with too much baggage and only the worst parts of ourselves to offer because we’re too beaten, broken down and plain selfish to offer up the good parts…the naked parts. Tell me, where do you hide your good parts?

 

No matter the outcome—of life and so many things— I suppose there is comfort in the possibility of finding peace within my own self-worth, and power in knowing I don’t have to force someone into validating that for me.

 

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*All artwork in this blog post courtesy of Loveland Art. Please click the link to check out more; also follow on Instagram: @lovelandart.

Rum

Rum was my first drink of choice when I realized my life was falling a part
I needed something to help me medicate
Today’s sips still flavored with brokenness and divorce. ..
I’ve since changed course, I chug whiskey now
Because life is a son of a bitch
I need that bit of grit
To get by

Found

I can be found not so surreptitiously picking my nose behind the driver’s wheel of my car
Sipping hard on ice cold slimfast shakes
Judging others, making too many mistakes
At the center of attention wanting to be left alone
Somewhere between completely lost and googling the definition of rusty trombone

I can be found micro managing the sleep of children
Wiping drool from little mouths and tucking sheets back in
I can be found wide awake at 2am watching murder mysteries
Getting contact high from the smoke while rubbing his tired feet
Up at 6am giving half awake head
Over sleeping in comfy platform bed
I can be found in the bathroom, because I drink too much water
At McDonald’s the day before payday scraping up quarters
I am always looking for change,
I get bored easily
I believe in tangents and I prefer my conversations deep
You can find me
Ending poems abruptly

To the Restaurant that Doesn’t Serve Bacon After Noon

To the restaurant that doesn’t serve bacon after noon

Fuck you

Who are you to confine bacon to a box that’s not Styrofoam to keep my bacon hot for me to take home

You are the same forces of evil behind happy hour

I don’t need a certain time slot to be happy

I have joy as long as a drink is in me

You cannot control the amounts of alcohol that I choose take in

And when

Just as you can’t regulate quality time with my new delicious friend

Or even begin to understand the lust, the trust the faith I have in

bacon

Unexpected

I wish I had saved all of those text messages

You were so corny and I didn’t know that I loved it yet

I didn’t know your “good morning, pumpkin” wasn’t just to get some pussy

It was a mark of your consistency; a reflection of how often you think of me

You weren’t gaming me

you were simply

Being yourself