Epitaph for Poppa (Because I feel like you're dead)

They say that humble beginnings are when you've began in a deprived situation,
So I must've been humble since I came out of the womb,
Because here I am,
Yearning for the day we’ll be together again for the first time,
Thinking about your stick and stone of a love that led to words you didn’t have,
that are still hurting me,
My forgiveness for my father has gotten lost between the lines of a sad poem,
Written after my ears bled the words after being stabbed by a voicemail that was too late,
And too fake.

Mom always said you weren’t shit.
Probably couldn’t even make it in my pampers,
Maybe that’s why you weren’t there to change my pampers,
I ask, where were your fingerprints on the bars of my baby crib?
Or on my stroller,
Or kindergarten and grades 5, 8, and 12 graduation diploma,
Why were your hands never cupped around my back so I could pour into you,
When I needed to,
When I needed you,
When I hugged myself on Christmas mornings because mom worked overtime making sure that her boss’ children would receive presents for the rest of their lives,
Believe me when I say Santa Clause came to town just as many times as you did,

And it’s funny how the dryness of your soul is what created my damp pillows,
I even dreamed about crying myself to sleep,
After doing it enough to choke on the reality that you didn’t want me,
Had enough nightmares that they would become synonymous with my dreams,
For twenty years I have watched my disappointment sprout,
Your weeds have been the thorns in my flowery quicksand of a life since I was just your seed,
Watering it with my tear ducts,
I’m tired of walking on spilled tears that you never bothered to clean up,
Tired of mourning over broken promises that were never fixed so you wouldn’t have to construct a relationship,
And here you are today.

Again where you won’t be tomorrow,
You are cheating on with yourself because you are quitting while you're still behind,
Two hundred and nineteen pictures that I have taken without you,
And had you been there for any one of them,
You would’ve learned that your son has a photographic memory,
But remember this.
Every poem that I have written about you, you have written for me,
And the only time I’ve felt apart of you was during preconception,
I hope that you live long enough to wonder if I treated your grandson the same,
And if I haven’t grown up to be a man,
Know that it was through your absence that I learned that it was best to just be human.

Better Get Hit In Yo' Soul

It is a matter of record,
That the records that have been recorded are recording the writings of writers who have written themselves into a coma,
Green pieces of paper, larger green lawns, and fake green eyes with voluptuous bodies of all colors have made these writers drowsy,

And despite the need for visually capable human beings to lead the blind,
These writers are journaling their songs through dead consciousness,
And the recipients are receiving substance from writers who are dead, alive.

The Black and brown proprietors donned in platinum and gold insecurities shelling out silver CDs and mp3’s have unevenly distributed their colorless garbage to the white community,
Therefore allowing the Anglo, to construct an angle, that narrows their perception so acutely that they miscalculate our shape as a people,
Somebody get them a protractor, so they can realize, that not all Black angles operate with the same degree,

Somewhere the unknown is whispering that you cannot buy freedom.
Instead we buy bullshit when the real shit is free.

Supporting victims who lyrically celebrate the demise of all who have fallen with them,
And these victims,
Are winning Grammys while disrespecting our grannies,
Neglecting the strength it took be mothered by their mothers,
Through songs they sing about our daughters,
And while little Sasha cheers because no one has taught her,
Michael slays his extended next of kin because he has been swallowing their metaphors for so long that when it is time to show real guts,
It’s their bullshit that he coughs up,
And his brother that he knocks down,
All because he could only bop his head to sounds with not enough love and more than enough frowns,
All to just be down,

And aren’t we all?
Down…
With more than enough empty dreams of ascending up to go around,
While our informal music instructors teach our women to dance and get around,
For too long we have constructed our own burial grounds,
With shovels covered in hot beats, hot chains, and hot clothes,
Digging the holes while professing hot words that couldn’t be more cold,

So somebody send an open letter to our people,
And tell them,
Do not let the untrained drummer control the drum of your heart.
Because it is not worth falling that far off-beat.

The words are dancing off-beat.

Stage fright.
A few shakes evolve into a tremble. Nervousness becomes visible.
Fear of judgment multiplies and seems indivisible.
Far from tranquil.
Heart beats beginning to speak a language that’s inexplicable.
I want to get rid of you.

Fight or flight responses warranted.
Flight chosen.
The heart beats have won.
The shakes are dancing in victory.
No shoe laces in my Chucks but my tongue is tied.
Throat is choking white flags.

Feel my feet crumbling on the ground like the separation of cookie from hand.
I don’t understand. This was never the plan. Still ran.
Got damn.

Next time, my head and my heart will have a meeting.
One of them forgot the words on the page.
The other remembered that I was human.
Lost between a memory, blue horizontal lines, and hesitation.
Frightfully forgetting scripted scribbling detailing dead consciousness.

I want to die, alive.

Homophobia is Human Phobia

All of the hysteria surrounding homophobia is ridiculous. It's surprising that the most liberal state in our country, California, couldn't even pass a law allowing homosexuals to get married. In my opinion, I don't think anyone should be forced into having their relationship publicly and legally acknowledged through marriage. Marriage is a sacred institution whose origin is rooted in religion. It's in the Bible. And so if marriage is a sacred religious institution, then only religious people should be allowed to get married. If Biblical text says marriage is for a man and a woman, then let that marriage be for the men and women who are committed to that religion. Everyone else should have civil unions, hetero, bisexual and homosexual folks included.

The government should not be so irresponsible in assuming that everyone in this country is religious and for those who are not, their relationships should be publicly and legally be recognized through civil unions. I could care less about people's opinion about homosexuality. If you refuse to believe that there is no gene for heterosexuality or homosexuality and that there's only a genetic trait for sexuality, and that human beings who choose to engage in homosexual/bisexual activities opposed to their heterosexual counterparts are just like people who choose to favor ketchup over mustard, then that's your problem. If your religious text states that having an affection for Black people, or tall people, or poor people, or nonetheless someone of the same sex is immoral and an abomination by God, then that's a problem that you and your religious constituents need to deal with. Or, if you believe that homosexuals are human beings just like everyone else and that homosexuality and bisexuality is a lifestyle choice just like extravagant/Bohemian living, promiscuity or being a part of the Ku Klux Klan, then that's ok too. But don't let your beliefs affect the lives of people and their happiness. There was a time when White folks said interracial marriage was an abomination and tried to justify it with religion, and there was another time when the same people who fled Europe because of religious persecution, went to an "undiscovered" country called America and spawned slavery and justified it with religion and then there was another time when....you get the point.

Allusion. "Examination of What" by Digable Planets
Time: 1:22
Lady Bug Mecca addresses the issue of the government, and more specifically men, who arbitrate the use of a woman's womb.
"How can I get comfortable when the Supreme Court is like, all up in my uterus?"

Well, how can homosexual couples be comfortable when the Supreme Court is like, all up in their relationship? It is embarrassing for our government to be one of the few who refuses to dignify the relationships of human beings who choose certain lifestyles because of their own religious ideals. What happened to all that hoopla about a free country? Homosexuals are still human beings and the ones who are American citizens deserve and have the inalienable right to have their relationship publicly acknowledged, just like the heterosexuals who live foul lifestyles, corrupt human solidarity and are responsible for divorce rates being the highest they've ever been. Whatever.



One more thing.

Get free.

My First Directorial Project!

This is my first directorial project. It is a performance piece by Ari DeDeaux of Ebony Readers/Onyx Theater. Enjoy.