Today is Better Than Yesterday…

Been alot that I’ve been through
I cried a tear a time or two
Baby, you know I cried some over you, yeah
Had my heart kicked to the ground
Love ripped me up and tore me down, baby

But that ain’t enough to break me
Cuz I’ll rise above it
And I’ll pick myself up
And I’ll dust the pain off my heart

And I’ll be alright
And I’ll love again
And the wounds will mend
I’m bruised but not broken
And the pain will fade
I’ll get back on my feet
It’s not the end of me
My heart is still open
I’m bruised but not broken (Joss Stone, Bruised But Not Broken)

I’m bruised but not broken. As each day does by I am reminded that who I am is NOT dependent upon who I am with. The one thing I can say about my upbringing is that it afforded me the ability appreciate solitude… okay in this case it’s loneliness. I’ve been alone before. It didn’t kill me. My default is recluse mode. Being a part of a whole that surely had cracks in it was not all that I had hoped it would be. But I wanted it because I never had it before. For a while it caused me to lose sight of who Zak was. To keep it 100, I’m still not sure. I still think in the context of a girlfriend, of a lover, of a friend… However, I’m the only one that has any context at this point. I’ve realized that I’ve been used and discarded. I’ve used her and discarded her at one point as well. Maybe this is my karma. I know Karma is a bitch but is she that literal.

untitled…till whenever

I want to fuck you senseless -
Make you scream my name -
till the syllables are embedded on your tongue-
I’ll fuck you into submission -
then send you home to her.

You’ll speak her name sweetly
but in the rhythm of my heartbeat
You trace her face with your index wishing
her features were as delicate as mine
her rough life shows on her face.

You want to make it better
but want me to make you better
You want to retreat into my warmth
because her winter is brutal
She can’t help it
Cold is her nature

If you love her, why are you here?
Because warm is my nature
You are drawn to my warmth
it makes you feel safe
I get that
I take advantage
I don’t really want you.
Just want the familiar.

SO you should go back to her
after I make you scream my name
till the syllables are embedded on your tongue-
I fucked you into submission -
then sent you home to her.

Till next time…

Heartbreak

I’ve never felt heartbreak like I feel it now. My entire body is numb. Now I know how cutters feel. When deep seeded pain leads to numbness there is this aching to feel something else. Even if it is physical pain. A headache or toothache is always indicative of something else. Heartbreak is just that. A broken fucking heart. It’s the type of pain that is evoked by a smell, a song, or a damn color. It’s when you forget about all the bad times that led to the demise of the relationship and can only see the good times and wonder is she that happy good with her new girlfriend. She can’t be. One can only have ONE true love. I was hers. WASN’T I?

BTW I’m really drunk. Forgive me.

Hello Starshines, You were missed

Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve even logged into this blog account. I do apologize to any of you that were looking for me. I’ve actually been a bit busy with job searching and vacillating between extremes. I would say that I was feeling bi-polar but that would be a bit melodramatic of me. It would also be unfair to anyone that actually is bi-polar. When my pendulum swings, it doesn’t quite reach a mania. I’m also way to analytical and methodical at all times to have any hint of manic behavior. Having said that, in the interest of full disclosure, as they say, I did feel like to I was quietly going insane. I don’t quite have a way to express it in words. Let’s just say I was a few days away from being on some Virginia Woolf / Silvia Plath shit.

When I checked my stats It surprised me than anyone even visited in my absence, let alone the vast number of you that have. Those of you that have not given up on me, I appreciate that. Those that have, I can dig it. I don’t really have much patience for anyone that just randomly goes on sabbatical. But, what can I say. I’m sometimsey and moody and I live in my head. That’s me. At, least I’m self aware.

There were so many thing that have happened in the past month and a half that I wanted to speak on. I was on such a constant ebb that is seemed pointless to try to write anything. My entire though process lacked lucidity and I was spiraling. Not to say today is that much better, but there is a weeeeeeee bit of clarity. I call that progress. That’s all that I can ask for. They say progress is a slow process. I don’t know who the fuck they are. But whatever.

Poetry: I Used To Be Vain

I prepare my nails before bed
gnawing and ripping them with that one jagged tooth
I wrap my hair with jumbo doobie pins and a knock-off Coach scarf
pose in the mirror
head down
shying from my reflection

I used to be vain

I claw the skin beneath my eyes
where the ash of dry salt mapped the path

blood streams down to valley above my lip
down to my second chin
collects around my neck
like sweat during August heat waves

it drips to the half healed flat iron burn on my breast, still pink
-raw

I rub it in like
-crimson balm
then lick it off

I used to be vain

Copyright 2009 Z. Walker

Poetry: In Sepia

I live in sepia
Speak in phrases -etched on tea stained pages -contained in anthologies saturated with abstractions

I dream in rainbows
Hearing mel-od-ies in PCP induced keys- of legato dissonance
the world whipping me with its displeasure- The vibrations from my laugh bouncing upon their eardrums after every lashing
-whoosh

I dance in gray-scale, a mono-chromatic 2-step to a 4:4 rhythm, swaying my hips when I think that no one is looking -
gyrating
-love thrusts
alone

I breathe in hues unknown- wading through fog- my lungs 

Tired

Heavy

Taking in the spirits of those lost along the way.

                                                                                                                                           

 

 

 

Z. Walker Copyright 2009
Photo from Flickr.com Petite Noir

Letter to My Unborn Kids

To my Unborn kids,

For the first time I feel like the world may be going into a different direction.  It’s moving into a direction that I feel may be good enough for you. My entire life, I figured that I’d never have kids for various reasons.   Please don’t think that it’s you (or the idea of you.)  

 (1)  The world is in peril ad infinitum.  What type of person knowingly brings their child into a world of pain?  Would that not make me selfish?  No matter how much I try to protect you, there will always be some ugly that will seep in. I am so sorry for that. War, famine, crime, grave intolerance, hate…the world is just full of it.  I am so scared that I will be unable to prepare you for what this world is.  All of the love that I can give you and all of the good intentions may not suffice.

(2) Reason # 2 is probably the more pervasive of the two.  I did not think that I was capable of even being a mediocre parent. Let alone  good one.  A great parent would have been out of the question. 

 Recently, I’ve begun to think that thinks are beginning to align.  Possibly, I am not as incompetent as I’ve been led to think.  I’m not gonna run out an try to conceive (or adopt) you today. But when you get here, I’ll be a bit less befuddled.  I need time to become the best me possible; for both of us.  I need to have something to offer you. It is important to me to discount the victimhood that my lineage dictates.  But when the time come please know:

a)  I will bring you into the world ( or my life)  only when I am part of a pair.  We will love and respect each other as equals before we even think about adding to our family.

b) I will have corrected my isolative behavior so that you may be surrounded by people that love you and will be at your avail when I am being a dick, or unreasonable , or selfish, or just a victim of my own crazy.

c) Though this world is full of bullshit,  I will not dwell on the negatives but I will teach you to appreciate the beauty, art, culture, divine design, and small miracles that life has to offer.

d)I will not lean on you to be stronger than you are capable of being at any given time.  But you will always be able to lean on me.I will hold you up.  You will never be to heavy.

e)I will never a give a free pass to anyone that may ever hurt you. Even if it may be to my benefit.  Your enemies are mine. Your pain is mine.  Anyone that does you wrong will answer to me.

f) I will never steal from you.  Money, attention, material…whatever.  What is yours is yours, exclusively.

g) I will never make you feel ashamed about who you are.  My life’s mission will include making sure you know that you are unique and special.

h)I will never bring you into this world to repair something that is broken or to keep hold of something that was never mine to possess.

i)I wil teach you healthy eathing habits and healthy movement patterns .

j)I will always wipe your tears. Anywhere. Anytime.  Never be ashamed to tell me what you feel.

k) I will serve as an example of what a good person is instead of telling you what/who you should be.  I will be the best me possible so you know that greatness is possible.

l)When I fuck up, I will apologize without shame or indignation.  I am human and therefore, fallible.  That is something that we must all learn.  No one is above making mistake,  Nor are we above correcting them.

m)I will teach you that mediocrity that not acceptable under any circumstances.  Achieving gretness takes great work.  There are no shortcuts.

n) I will never use your existance to not grow as a person.  It is quite the contrary. The fact that that I am I even thinking about you today is making me strive to be a better person for you.

o) I do not always speak in cliche’s and hackenyed language, but sometimes it it necessary.

It’s gonna be one hell of a ride.  But its a ride that we will take together. I promise you If you give me a chance I’m gonna be the best.

 

Love,

Me

I See You Sister Big Bone

This is for you Sister Big Bone. I pump my fist in curvy-chick solidarity. Being a thick woman for my entire life has afforded me the knowledge of what works well on our body types. On the daily basis we are inundated with article after article analyzing our bodies and applying labels to our problems. Are you and apple or a pear? Who cares you are a woman and any additional label is unnecessary. There are no rules when it comes to being a fashionista. When all is said and done fierce is fierce. Impeccable style has no size, gender, or price point. It’s all about doing what suits your body and reflects you personality the best. It pains me to see my sisters in size walk out of the house wearing foolishness. Anything that distracts from your assets is not good. Women that are size 6 have areas that they feel a need to cover. Please don’t act like you don’t. I know that SPANXcan be a bit expensive. Believe me they work wonders. There are also comparable body shapers all over the place that hold everything together, smoothes, and shapes and minimizes jiggle. It is a investment.  You don’t have to wear them daily just when needed. A good panty/bra also does a world of good as well. You wear them anyway; why not invest in some that will accentuate. Any woman above 38 anything and larger than a C-cup should not be buying their bras from the $3.00 at Conway. Large breasts are the things that fantasies are made of, but not when your flesh is bubbling over them or the girls can still be strapped down in your belt.

When Facebook Does Me Good

Facebook was never my favorite social media site.  I just got one when I was in college because I was very active around campus and needed an outlet to promote this big things that I was doing. Upon graduating, I threw Facebook the deuces and moved on with my life with minimal social media activity. ( Until I found my current addiction, Twitter.)
There was a serious cringe factor each time I logged in (usually monthly) and see a friend request from some nondescript that I had gone to high school with. For some strange reason, I never deleted it. Maybe it was the inherent fear that most of us have, that we may miss something HUGE. That’s rarely the case, though. Were are usually just inundated with party invites, random “gifts” and requests form people that are selling things.

Sometimes, however, there is a jewel in there somewhere. Toady, I got a friend request from a close friend from high school. Be, clear! I really hate being in communication with anyone from my past. That includes people that I used to ag to high school or college with. I go out of my way to avoid  the town where I attended high school in fear that someone will want to talk to me or exchange numbers. It really makes my skin crawl.  But, when this person requested me I was instantly surprised and happy. Although, I was relatively popular in HS she made my hard time a bit more tolerable.  Maybe because it was be were both in the same situation and could commiserate together.  

Now, I am not necessarily jumping at the chance to do lunch with her or anything.  Just like to know thats she’s okay and a living a blessed life.

The Death of Swagger

There is no shortage of folks that believe the word swaggerhas run its course.  It is slowly becoming  a linguistic pariah.  It’s a word that those of us in the hip-hop generation have used at nonstop for the past 5 years.  Now many of us  anxiously await the DEATH OF  SWAGGER, or any of its ilk.  The time has come for it to fall  the way of once  infamous BLING BLING and the hackneyed Grown & Sexy .  

Slang usually runs a natural course and disappears as the generation that once utilized it grows older.   This, however, is more than a case of slang running its natural course. There’s a level of  cornballness that is established with when a word attains commercial success to the point that the likes Old Spiceemploys it for use in one it’s campaigns. (remember when Paris Hiton and Bill O’Reily started saying BLING BLING and BOOTYLICIOUS got a place in the dictionary) That makes it ridiculously uncool and slovenly pejorative ( as it was intitially itended). Ironcialy enough, it was none of this that has lead me to retire this word from my vocabulary. It is the horribleness that is Soulajaboytellem. I can no longer advocate this level of bafoonery. So people I will not be “turning my swag on” ever again. I just can’t. Each time I say my once favorite word, I feel my IQ plummet and my stomach turn like I just walked in on folks doing the stanky leg. Seriously people, swagger once had a distinction of class that was associated with a Diddy white party. Now it has a connotation that can be readily associated with “supermanning a ho”. I can’t. It’s just too much.

With all of that said, I find it difficult to determine an apt replacement for a word that had been such a mainstay in my vocabulary.  There are few words that encapsulate the physical and personality traits that that word SWAGGER embodies.

Words that could replace it SWAGGER

PANACHE I cannot make cool varations like I can with swagger, like swag, swaggalicious, swaggeriffic, swagadocious, or swaggtastic. Yeah -good stuff.

BRAVADO
This just has way too many syllables.

Do you have any suggestions? Have you retired anything from your vocabulary? I’ll add to this list as I come up with more.