You Should Remember

I go ghost sometimes.

Sorry? I am. But don't I make it worth your while?

Yes! And if I don't, don't correct me!

I need my ego these days.


Here's a 10-1. Click that link to see what a 10-1 is if you're a new pair of eyes.

I have a couple of these.

Enjoy.

You must have forgotten about my temper.
That I am Zeus in his arrogance.
Lightning ever ready.
You don't want to be the fried tree
In the way of a traveler's commute
Do you?

I have a problem
With seeing things
As I am.
You are not as I am.
You are a mixed blessing.
But hey, aren't they all?

You're only human.
You're no superwoman.
Yet.

I remember Harlem
Toasted in the back of my neck
Biting at the frost of your arms.
I'll always remember.
But I can't forget I've moved on.

"You are very
Very
Sure of yourself aren't you?"

Distance
Is like Time.
We just don't know where it will lead us.

My voice gets trapped in the furniture here.
How clever you have been!
Ensnaring my voice in wood,
Captivating my words in metal and linen.
You're counting on my insanity
Aren't you?

Music
Isn't the only thing about us.
Music
Isn't the only thing
I'm afraid of.

I'm old enough
To know a snake when I see one
To know a trap when I see one
To booby trap
To tame a beast
To gain a pet
If I want one.

You've never been wiser.

I've never been wiser.

We

Have never been

Wise.

Today I Am Rambling

Jealousy is a wretched condition.

I am jealous of boys who play nurse to their mothers, wait on them hand and foot.

I am jealous of the mothers.

Jealous that authority doesn't always just bridge the generation gap, no, instead it is threaded to her apron.

I am fearful of being that girl in the back of the closet

Behind that old sneaker smell, folded on forgotten sweaters.


The only thing worse than Jealousy is Longing.

It is the infant gnawing on raw nipples, savage, unapologetic.

It is as viral as hunger, as blinding as pain, that drive is too demanding!

I long for myself.

For a braver woman, a woman of no nonsense.

A woman who makes a woman's mistakes. Not a girl's but a woman's.


I COULD say a woman wouldn't have done the things I have done but that wouldn't be true.

She wouldn't have done the things I have done AGAIN or as often.

For women were girls once, even though I am no longer a girl.

I am the dusk and dawn of my era.

I am the rise and set of my age.


Sometimes I long for a man who tries to parallel me.

He is aggressive.

As succulent as the after pain of a neck bite.

All teeth. Gentle.

He is a MAN, muscular, feral, predatory.

Protective. Interested.

His lips are no longer a myth, they are a tradition.


This man knows what I mean when I say awesome.

And AWEsome.

He knows he is the difference and I am the tone.


Then I stop dreaming.

I stop longing.

I put on my pants, apply some eyeliner and get ready to go to work.

I go back to train fares and stations, dirty break rooms, dreading my sister's return.

I go back to blocking out the white bred radio, humming unfinished songs, watching time tick.

I try to forget that this space, this time, my "home" is a library.

I try to forget that I am borrowing here.

That there is a fine and I already pay a lot of prices.

But most importantly I try to forget the longing.

That jealousy is its sister.

I try to forget that I long for HE who is shelter and passion.

And I try to remember to be all TEETH.

You Miss Me.

I haven't been blogging.

I have so much to say.

A gagillion ten to ones

About 5 poems

Songs songs songs...

They're coming soon.

I have to find the words! Jeesh!

I'll be back when I've found them.

Sometimes it's just easier to be.

So that's what I'm doing. What you should be doing.

BEING.

See you soon!

Forgetful Things

I had a nice twitter rant. Inspired by my friend Tanya.

Oh! Follow me? Only if you're gonna speak!

@IceAndAshes

Anywho. These are things I shouldn't forget.

Dear Morning,
Make me forget the chase.
Remind me that these knees are too weary from praying
And track ain't my strong point.

Dear Sun, you were there with me...
Skin often lies but your light doesn't.

When you're waiting for his call
Remember his arms.
How they squeezed the breath into you.
You're still breathing. That's important.

When you feel those eyes watching you...
Turn your back on them.
Maybes always win staring contests.
We too grown for maybes.

When the guilt grapples your tongue
Remember the fire. How unreliable it is.
The only thing promised is ice in the artic
And ashes for dinner.

Shit, even ice melts.
Burn the memories. Then blow them away.
This ain't a funeral.
Mourn nothing.

When you're waiting for his smile
Remember the clutter.
You'll get lost there
With no one to "save" you but the rats.
Leave.

If you're still waiting for the prick of his fingers
Tell your lower back to keep quiet.
It don't know ache like your heart do.
It can't heal...

Remember his mouth.
The skepticism.
You never really knew where his has been...
Did it make you forget where you were?

Get used to the quiet.
It's always been there.
Nothing loves you like silence does.

Ziggy.

I will write a song for you.

For us.

But for you.

You need to settle into your skin comfortably.

Love like a river.

You need to be!

I'm here.

I promise you..

You Forgive Me.

Internet eludes me at home.

I'm currently in my local library praying for instrumentals.

To write to of course.

Smooth instrumentals, r & b, neosoul, hip hop...

Something to groove to.

Ever been so inspired you get stuck

and have no clue what to do with yourself?

Causes of my stuckness:

Dom O Briggs

&

Humuni .

I haven't heard music projects that got me this hype since Lupe Fiasco's Enemy Of The State.


Anywho...I've been courting my pen lately.

I'm ready to really immerse myself in my writing.

I will be posting something soon.

Hopefully.

You know how the internet teases me.

*goes back to bumping music*

Love Ya!

9:44 A.M.

This started out as an ode to crushing on impossible people.

But hey! I have enough things to say to make this a Ten to One.

So let's get cracking, shall we?

You should learn me.
Never had patience for women who hug their flailing woes
Blindly.
You got a heart like a forest fire.
There is no mirror here.
Stop looking for yourself.

I can respect loyalty.
It's scarce in this day and age.
But....
You have the smile of A students
With their gpas creasing at their corners.
In the end it doesn't matter.
In the end, you never learned.

There are several things we can withstand
I have a feeling THIS is not one of them.

I wade with you.
This is the best I can do.
I'm sorry.

I almost made a foolish mistake.
Stupid stupid stupid.
I almost let you see my notebook.
And all the cells that make it
All the skin that carries it
Stupid stupid stupid.
I won't be making that mistake again.

I miss us.
And our outings.
You da best homie.
See you this break.

We share
Every fiber
Every Cell
Every Gut Twist
On this body.
And yet my heart
Still overbearingly belongs to you.
Give it back.

I don't know why
I keep assuming you want to know me.
You just say things because that's what your tongue
Is used to.
That's all your taste buds know.
Flatlines
And lines that fall flat.

I've learned
That when you find the scrunchiest of faces
Endearing
That you should run for the hills.
And boy am I running.

Promises are so easy to break.
Remember that.

In Honor Of...

To Write Love On Her Arms Day.

To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement
dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.

If you want to participate, all you have to do is write LOVE on your arm.

I Need A Break.

No one understands how tired I am.

Nothing cuts it anymore.

I feel like I need a clean slate.

A fresh piece of paper.

A new notebook of a life.

I don't have to erase the lessons from my last one.

I just want to move on, be new, with this one.

I'm thinking of either taking a break from all social networks

Or

Creating a new facebook or twitter, etc...

Where I can be a little less uncensored.

Where I can be a little more free.

Where nothing can haunt me.

Where I won't run into anything I don't want to remember or see.

The break sounds good for now.

Because everything is too much.

Everyone annoys me.

Everyone disappoints me.

And it's all in my face!!!!

ARGH!

A bullshit filter would be lovely.

As well as a No Exes Allowed

No Family Allowed

Only Inspiring, Real People

Filter.

I just want to express myself without having to second guess it.

When's the last time you posted something

A Facebook Status, Blog Post, A Tweet

Without thinking about who is going to see it?

Take This To Heart.

Nobody comes back

The same as when they left.

The doorway is no longer a portal

To safety but the yawning gap

Between us.

We lost the keys,

Love, and broke off the knobs

A long, long time ago.

- “Our Feet on the Word Welcome” By Karen Ann Capco

Oh How I Miss Them...

COME BACK PLEASE!!!

Yes.

Here's some advice via my Swedish CupCake Jen.


"When saying goodbye is too much...


Just say I Love You.


And if they love you back,


Then of course they will understand."



So true.


Sometimes you just can't be afraid to be happy.


You can't be afraid that you won't make it through the free fall...


Sometimes we have to be more than a little brave.

Bare.

A lovely Ten to One because the weather is getting cold again.

Don't know what a 10-1 is?

Click HERE

Go.

Somehow you have vanished
Into thin wood.
I fear that if I knock
I might break us.

Some judge growth by Fashion.
As if I could hold all of my life lessons
In such dusty fabric.
You make me afraid to bare all
There is so much harm to be done
To the thickest of skin.
You probably don't wonder anyway...
But if you did
I'd tell you my boots from last year are ruined.
I bought another pair of the same kind.
What does that tell you?

There are many apologies
For what should of beens
Many apologies for what I know now
And what I didn't know then
But apologies
Are only pathways to be built
Or torn down.
London Bridge.

You can dress me up in diamonds.
You can dress me up in dirt.
We are never really sure of who is underneath
Are we?

I give you the last song
And the last lines
You creaking faucet, you
I spit rust flavored nightmares
You just can't recognize that color can you?

Oh how the mighty will fall...

I wonder if you ever knew me
Half as well as you thought you did.
I wonder how your footprints feel
I have a feeling I'm about to find out.

Clocks can show you who you really are
And as Tzitzi Farmer said
"Time is the biggest snitch--
No lie!
It always tells."

I'm sorry
I cannot be one of those women
Staring at stained glass
Praying for the dream to come alive again.
These windows will strip the queen from you
Reduce you only to a prayer in waiting
Body glued to the bathroom floor
Bare kneed and buckled.

When will you be tired
Of snapping the love welts
Inside of your stomach?
Tell me...
So I can know you feel madness also
That I'm not a lost child
Tell me...
Please.

Bare All Cold Weather

Let's get personal and recap for a second.

Around this time last year I was:

1. Kicked out of my home and living with my godmother

2. Hurt and confused that the guy I was talking to kept giving me mixed signals

3. I was still finding myself

4. Heavily depressed and repressing it.


Boy if I knew then what I know now....


I digress.

December and January were my worst months.

Also, they were the first months in which I ever got drunk.

And thus, this freewrite:

I.

Alcohol always tastes like

Women with no strength for teaching

The ones who lost their love in the laundry

Women who stitch their fears to bar glasses

Like mothers

Who never told me to button my jumpy bones

Silently.

II.

Drunk

Is not a good friend of mine

We are about as close as

The quiet grazing an ex lover's mouth

And the thunder lapping tongue between his & mine.

My tonsils don't hold sun storms well.

III.

Sweaty hands can unhook

Even the most strategically placed underwire

I own secrets in that metal

Can you handle the breaths beneath the bra?

IV.

I start to remember

I cannot afford the morning.

Cotton swished aftermath

A sunrise too wooden to make peace with.

V.

I lose the pieces.

I know that this is a new year, and the past is past and all...

But I just can't forget where I came from.

Where I was. It keeps chasing me.

Something about it just won't let me be...

So Sad.

This Is Cheyenne.

October 3rd, around 1 a.m. she became the victim of a stray bullet. She was shot in the back.

She was pronounced dead at Harlem Hospital.

She was only 17.

It is so heartbreaking, not only to her mother, not only to her family and friends, but just the story itself.

I didn't know her personally but I've seen her around. She lived around my neighborhood. My cousins were closest to her.

She is described as a sweet girl, always looking for laughter. It is such a tragic loss.

How many more have to fall victim to senseless shooting, to senseless violence, before something is actually done about it?

Enough is enough.

No one should have to pass on before they reach their prime.

R.I.P. Cheyenne.

Here's the article.

I Like This.

http://soundcloud.com/suavegemstar/tray-q-whos-a-monster

I don't like a lot of covers.

But I'm feeling this one.

Enjoy!

Tonight.

Tonight I am angry.

Tonight....

I am frustrated.

I am sick.

I am not in the mood for bullshit.

The world should look out tonight.

Tonight...

I'm on a rampage.

Full Circle.

I remember the Fall with you.


Walks splintered into my stopwatch of a schedule.


Stanzas squeezed into the streaming of my pulse.


You held my hand once.


You remember?


I remember laying in the park with you.


Hesitation fed by petty grass stains.


This was before I wanted to untie the soul


You secretly twisted in your tongue.


It was simple then.


When I was still too afraid to be hopeful.


When I molded you out of


The freshest dirt in my day dream.


Before I got hit with a heart


Full of quaking bricks.


I remember your breath before the sunset.


The way a smile used to taste on you.


The way the sun winked at the hardened glass


In your eyes.


Back when I liked your eyes best.


When I didn't mind them being quiet


And safe.


I remember my frostbitten breathing.


Watching windows


And accepting the fog to them.


I remember the tears in the train station.


I remember your phone number.


I remember all the sweet words flexed away from me


The alcohol swished in your system


The truth you spilled because of it.


It's September again.


I remember the poisoned peace you never owed me.


The lead I still carry in my rib cage.


The way it weighs me down when I flit forward.


I remember silly poems.


And late night phone conversations.


I remember how you bit too hard


How I never had the guts to tell you.


And I keep wondering


If it was really that easy for you to forget.

Nothing Fancy...

But I'm gonna need you to stay around...


Please.

It's Been A While...

10-1
(ten to one)

Ten things you wish you could say to ten different people.

Or in my case...

10 different things that will eventually, in their own time...

Find a way to be said.

GO!

I wish I could shield you
from all the hurt and the stress mama.
Purple looks lovely on you.
Bruises don't.
Good thing I have several band aids handy.

I just want to make you proud of me.
And me proud of me.
It's not so simple is it?

You are a daily reminder
That there is good in the world.
I hope you get all you deserve.
And soon.

Still trying to double edge me I see
I was built for people like you.
I wonder what you're going to do
When there's nothing around
To sharpen that bitter blade of yours?

I must admit
That some nights
I remember the intimacy.
If I could've done things differently
And still be able to keep my lessons
I would.
It doesn't work like that.
I'm adding a layer of dust to your photograph.

I'm sorry I don't call more often.
I'm not used to doing that,
You should know, you taught me.
Wait.
You have a telephone also!
There goes my guilt.

I really
Really really
Really really really
Want to release this in poem form.
I'll wait for you to do it first.
My responses are usually stronger than the original.
Holla at me.

Good luck!
I believe in you.
No pressure.
Or rather don't pressure yourself.
We have enough things to bitch about as it is.

Beginnings are always beautiful.
But I'm looking for consistency.
Are you good with that?

I got used to the treadmill love
Where no matter how fast you run,
You're stuck at the starting point,
Only exhausted.
You know what happens when a woman gets tired?