A Whore's Shoes

Wow, it's been a minute since I've posted a blog, but I've been working hard. My debut cd is about to drop and of course we have to remember my book. So I thank you for even reading this blog to begin with because it truly means a lot. So what's next of me? Bigger and better things is all I can say. I've spent some time really thinking about careers, on any level. Why do we grind so hard? Especially, for those of us who have double lives, by day we are teachers, accountants, nurses...and by night we are singers, poets, artists. The only way I've known to deal with an issue is to write about it. So read it, share it, leave a comment, and spread the word. Even though I've been under the radar; I'm always writing. Prophetess never quits.



A Whore’s Shoes

She was searching
Working hard to create
Never realizing she
Was using her pussy
To define her
And the only thing she birthed
Was indifference

Late night stalker
Exchanging blow jobs
In dark halls

Ditching grad school
For night calls

Changing her wigs a second job
And this to simply please her john

Anyway you want it daddy
And she learned this from home experience

She grew up hoping she could
Change the world
A good girl

Hoping to one day carry a briefcase
Wear a navy pinstriped suit
Walk in late
The head of the meeting
And say call home it’s going
To be a late night

Instead she files skirts
Stacks condoms instead of post-its
Leave paperclips behind because
Fishnets come in every color

Keeps the clinic alphabetically behind mama
Cuz every now and then she calls her for advice

Her nights are her days
And she walks the block
Until dawn crepts in to tell her
To count your cash and run

Run back to the moment where it all made sense
And the only thing you had to do was make sure
Your socks matched in the morning

Run back to the moment
When cotton candy was what you ate
And not the name given to you by strangers

Or that moment when he told you
You were too pretty to be in school
I know another way you can make money

To that moment when your mama sang

What a friend we have in Jesus

Coming down the stairs
Sleep in your eyes
You mistook it for Jesus
And he was the first man to pimp you

A whore’s shoes are hard to fill
Cuz she’ll do 16 hours in
Thigh chain strapped 5inch
Patent leather high heels

& not once will she complain
Sleet, snow, or hail

She’ll stand in spot
Waiting for one cock
To get her rent money

And we laugh at her
Talk badly about her
Spit on the place she walks
Because it ain’t that hard
To get real job

We act like she
Wants it
Like a pothole
She fell in and not sure
She got all of herself out
Some her was still there broken
And battered
Desire was too the left
But ambition was in easy reach

Rules said get the American dream
So she did the American dream
To get a taste of his life

Yet we complain
Waking to alarm clocks
Or the babies’ cries
The cat knocking shit over in the kitchen
And the dog who we wished would walk itself
One damn time

We work that 9-5
Wearing a 3 piece suit with stilettos
Wear sneakers to the train rub our feet
Cuz we got blisters

And damn girl, she got them too

But we don’t hoe ourselves
When every career fair is
A pimp maker
Cuz CEO’s don’t do the job
You do the job and they get the credit

And we don’t hoe ourselves
Yet we do overtime for a little bit of change
To buy something a little bit better
Than what we had yesterday

And we don’t hoe ourselves
Cuz if we don’t work we don’t get paid
And like her we get laid-off
Cuz that trick won’t always be new
And your performance at 35 won’t be the same a 62

A whore’s shoes
Ankle strapped
Or knee high
See threw bottom
Bright pink
Shiny metallic
Leather
Gold emblems
To match her attire
And we wear a scarf we don’t need
That has a hint of the color from the shoes

We want to wear that day
We look our best
To do our best

When inside we know
We should’ve left
Filed a pink slip
Said fuck it
I don’t need this shit

She cried the same tears
handed you a tissue on the train
Listened to you say
You’re worth more than this
She felt that pain
But wanted you to feel better

At the next stop
She rose
Complimented your
Ribbon lace up leopard print heels
And said she had the same pair

A whore’s shoes are being redefined.

Peace of Mind??

"they" want us to find peace b/t
sanity and shit
realizing not everyone is full of it
but politicans do no time
for crimes committed
and Genalow Wilson
did 10 years for consenual sex
and i bet
tax dollars will continue
to spend &
blood sheds daily
on a war that won't end &
Katrina victims are still called refugees &
black madams
have senators pants below knees

America has lost her mind
full coverage on Paris in jail
was she beat?
on CBS NBC on @ 8, 9, & 10 &
breakin news w/ coffee before the
morning commute &
Darfur comes on news @ 11
2 clips @ night

waking to empty
classroom discussions
was the Holocaust real?
Who is Marcus Garvey?
Sharing textbooks
color a picture of Dr. King
in Kindergarten
hear his speech in 9th
Black History Month over
He HAD a dream

"they" want us to find peace b/t
sanith and shit & we
sell our souls to pay mortgage
living in beautiful empty shells
got the house &
no place to sit
cuz all the damn money is gone

intelligent black mothers
are the number one hustlers
mulitasking
balancing checkbooks
diaper changes
football games
while daddy isn't there
or is and needs balancing too

social experiences still tell boys don't cry
making locked in tears
fist marks on his wife
he wasn't taught how to feel

little girls use "it" to gain comfort
stay by him "he'll learn"
a man will always be inscribed in their
DNA
told when it falls apart
that they must change

"they" want us to find peace b/t
sanity and shit
and single mothers are
forced to leave young children
jail or die
heartless talks of
firstborn means nothing
we have to find other ways to
continue the name

rules steady changing...

more time is spent
trying to control
who you sex
while DC residents still can't vote
sitting like children
on punishment
waiting to hear direction
for their country

daily we fall from grace
In God We Trust they want removed
Prayer's not allowed in school
wisdom a lost tool
"they" tell us were safe no fear
& we're not sure we're wanted here

black goys still don't shed tears

hide us behind lies &
we know the end is near

My soul cries out to God!

Now I lay us down to sleep
I pray the Lord our souls to keep
and if we die before we wake
Please, Lord, let us go in Peace...

Series of Love: Broken Heart Cliche

We've all been there. Thought long and hard over what we did and came to the conclusion that the end we can pray we're smarter than what we were when it started. We sat with friends late nights saying we'd never be a cliche. We knew what was there was real, when that promise of forever was only for right now. In the end, it's another heart broken....With this poem the series ends. I hope you have enjoyed the journey.

Broken Heart Cliché

See for you
I drew rainbows
Wrote my name in crayons
Finger-painted on your body
Took naps before recess
Sat out during dodge ball
To watch you play

See for you
I wrote beautiful melodies
Promised you forever
And all of me
Shed clothes a second skin
Whenever the time
It was never ending
But now
Now I write eulogies
Burying what I thought was love
In a shoebox in the back yard
Small burial of stars and freedom
Lust filled nights in movie theaters
Love making sessions to candlelight
We did it all

See for you
I said monogamy
Threw the welcome mat away
Closed the peephole
And gave you a key
Dinners left cold on tables
Oven no longer heating
Microwave busted
Being overused night after night
Of you not coming home

See for you
I changed my address
Moved to an unknown space
Waiting for the moment
It would be our place
Instead it became
This hollowed out shell
We were forced to reside in
Hiding the fact that you loved in
Another whose name was not mine

See for you
I altered my dress
Trophy on your arm
So proud to show others what you had
When in reality, you were having everyone else
And I a fool to believe
That your looks were
What men did

I lost weight
Not because I couldn’t eat
My hair styled to perfection
Fell from the heat
Walking sideways
Running over the words
"I'll do better"
"You’re the one"
"Next time it’ll be different"

See for you
I embraced vows
Left-handed waves
Keeping in my vision
A reminder of our trust

See for you
I lost mind
Held tight to madness
Got use to it
Your excuses I accepted
And mistakes I put
In the attic

Broken record in my ear
Cd with a crack jammed
In the radio
I couldn’t get you out
I sipped slow on
Corn liquor
Burning my chest hoping
To singe that piece of my heart
Attached to you

I sat on county swings
Puffing cigars
And choked when I saw you in the smoke


Damn you were everywhere
The coffee tasted like dishwater
Honey iced tea was just a bag
I held on my tongue hoping
I could make something happen
My favorite spot had our names carved
So I burned it down
And left my heart as the tip

Series of Love: In Love All Over Your Body

I think this poem speaks for itself.

In love all over your body

u seduce me w/out even knowin that you're doing it
dreams of late nite pillow talk
replace the reality of you bein gone
i walk with a glow
hoping my mind doesn't blow
filled w/ beautiful
cuz in my smile it shows
you have captured my being
placed it gently against your chest to be seen
nursing the time it takes to make it
willing to take it further
if we speak it

we cherish it
this newfoundland
took the plan and
made it so much better
took simplicity as gold
bold enough to put heart on paper
strong enough to take this hollowed out shell
& fill it with magic

thinking of you often
in your eyes im lost
not wanting the maze to end
secretly ive loved you
but giving myself the chance to be your
best friend
i write lyrics on you
take u to open mics
delight in the applause
you are my masterpiece

you inhale &
i breath out blessings
not stressin over what it aint
cuz what of it is

don't change
keep me halfcrazy
your hands my heartbeat
i live to be a part of your life
shock me everyday with surprises &
gentle tears fall down my eyes &
onto your face
my place is only right...by you
turning sweat from
love making into diamonds
you wear them on your ears
fears lessen
& new lessons
are strapped on my feet
walking on jazz beats

we lived in winter
the blues left in spring
summer rain cleansed us both
& fall into each other's skin

Why I Teach

For those of you who know I wrote a poem called Why I Teach. But today those words were outdone by a true story. My first year in Woodbridge I had the pleasure of meeting Jonathan. Ooh he was unique in every way! We battled. He cursed me out. There was even one time I took off my earrings, my heels, and chased him down the hall. Why? I simply asked him to sit down and was told in very colorful language what he wasn't going to do. Well, humph, I knew he bumped his head and I showed him what crazy looked like. Laughing, huh. Well, I tell you, having him not one but two years was INTERESTING. He eventually became my project child and then my adopted son. I did everything in my power to keep him together: i tutored him, made sure he showed at work, yes I took it beyond the classroom, beyond the teaching hours and made it personal. Well, you can't watch everyone all the time and that one time I didn't, he got into a fight and was expelled. I spent all this time thinking what in the world did I do wrong!? I lead him like I'd do NaShawn, but you know what they say. You can lead a horse to water...
Today Jonathan showed up. Came into my room, looked me in my eyes and told me I was his favorite teacher. Thanked me for everything I did for him and gave me a hug. He told me that he's working on his GED and thinking about enlisting in the service. I was shocked. I was almost moved to tears. This student, made it his mission to find me and tell this after TWO years. This child had it together. The eye contact alone, was amazing. (For those of you with military background or who know of those in service) Yes, he stood at attention and even said "Thank you for not giving up on me". I was humbled.
In that moment it was confirmed that I was going to continue to lead them there. Take them by the hand and let them know they are bigger, better, and smarter than what is before them. They may not drink when its time, but when they do its that much better because they are doing it out of intrinsic motivation and not for anyone else.

It's hard work to teach heart, but it can be taught.

Series of Love: It Wasn't Exactly Love

Wow. I'm at it again. So what do you do when you're not really "into" someone but out of usefulness of the person you deal? I believe there are some out there in this position where 16 words doesn't fit the picture. When the passion leaves or was never there and the rest of time is spent coping. What do you say to those people who want to run and do it constantly into a wall? How hard do you hold onto someone when even with a loose grip, they wouldn't go anyway? Did love leave or was it just a need to have someone rather than no one at all?

It Wasn't Exactly Love

...when I called and said you got me
we tapped around expressing ourselves
slowly measuring with broken rulers
if this could be
i could deal with you
pretend the dinners meant something
while my stomach turned at the thought
of you touching me later
we jumped the broom & used it
to clean up too many
nights of sleeping apart
forgetful to what it truly takes to
make it work
we got use to each other
we talked when arguing
put make up sex
on the mantle
that energy passed through us
& we thought it was love
i didn't say for better
because there was never going to be
we shared a space
fooled the world
& had our own personal hell
was this all to offer
we had nothing left
filled our lives with schedules &
to do lists
everything needed to be planned
sex on Wed worked for us
more time was spent making up
the we lost each other
we were just too different
short answers needed but only
mulitple choice existed
2 answers didn't apply &
left us with A or B
we just quit and never answered the question
irreconcilable differences
there wasn't a union
we just had no place else to go

(to be continued)

Series of Love: Taste of Love

We fall in love, call our best friends, and the first thing they want to know is what does it feel like? Why does love always have to feel like something? If I was in love, I'd want to smell it, hear it, see it, and taste it. Let it be the aroma that wakes me to work hard. Let it be that favorite rhyme I hum without thinking, it just comes. Let it be a beautiful painting, a golden sunset, a star filled sky, a half moon. Let it be every part of the senses used to make love work.

What would yours taste like?

I think mine would be like this....

Taste of Love

my love passed me a jar
placed the edge on my lip & i drank
it went down

smooth w/ edges
bits of shaved sweet roasting almonds

hot w/a sour aftertaste like day old soup or cough drops

sweet w/hints of peppermint
that freshness i held under my tongue

a spicy sunburst of tangerine
syrupy thick molasses blanket

it was warm
vanilla flavored coffee
a serving of sweet potato pudding
savory buttered cornbread
homemade apple pie
& extra sweet ice tea

a drop fell on my lips & my love hungrily kissed me
we don't waste

(to be continued)