blackgirl on mars: notes on a life in copenhagen (or how my alienation brings me closer to people).

when you vibrating low? put your thoughts on pause & try to hear the birdsongs. take your phone off & & then take a shower. fry some fish. Make some tea. Open all the windows in your house and let the breeze come in for a visit. Sit with a poem you can't understand until you summon yourself outta the bed of your mind. Shake it all off and stretch! Look at the sky and bow down! Throw something over your clock & say LIFE IS GREAT! But most importantly tell someone who it's really hard to be nice to that you love them.

Graffitti-bombed walls a corner cafe chokes on cigarette smoke. Skateboard wheels dig into asphalt & 80s wares are now antique. A bedroom window sill spills sun into a girls heart. black girl on mars http://www.brooklynthoughts.blogspot.com get your literary groove on!

in Copenhagen while the sun is shining (finally!) outside and preparing for the week ahead. i'm in the process of completing a cd homegrown, with some beats by Woody & words by yours truly so if you wanna copy email me and i'll send you one for free... vibrations are high & each movement, thoughts or otherwise, springs forth from soil i seek to constantly fertilize from within. lately i've been focusing on the similarities, not the differences and that helps. i can really feel the difference when I utter positive things and when I don't. i'm really missing my grandmother and hope i am blessed enough to hear her snoring bore through the house, late at night. the more you focus on the positive, the bigger it all becomes. denmark can be beautiful if you let down the fortress around your heart. my son formed a rock band, it's called hot ketchup. how cool is that? he also devised a cartoon series called tv is wrong...the main character is a tv set and his na...

Looking back at history as one peers down the barrel of a gun, careful not to choke on the smoke, is it any a wonder why so many of us have fallen or continue to fall between the cracks of a paradigm we did not create but love to hate and continuously help to perpetuate? Like pallbearers at our own funeral, asleep while bearing the full wait of our deaths, we stumble through history and tread upon the broken backs of our foremothers and forefathers. We tread upon them straight to our own deaths, falling off the cliff of life again and again, refusing to remember who we all are. Is it any wonder we no longer recognize ourselves in the mirror, that we become our own reflection's enemy, that we have allowed ourselves to be incarcerated by our own skin? Is it any wonder that we hate the whirls of our hair (true riches) the silk of our skin ? Is it any wonder we are being called right now to lift this curse and are forced to reckon with the greatness of who we once were, who we are ...

I always used to laugh when folks came to New York for the first time and stuck their chins all the way up to where their noses ought to be, just straining to take a look at how tall all the buildings are... I always thought how uncool that was. I mean, that's like the universal law of being a New Yorker--remain nonchalant about the splendor around you. Statue of Liberty? Never been there. World Trade Center? How many floors did you say it had? (Never mind that you worked there, you're just too cool to notice). The unwritten law is-- never express how amazing and intimidating it all is. There's just something about the hypodermic needles you walk over and the baptisms of piss in the air that make you think that you are born in the greatest city in the world. It doesn't matter if it's not true. It doesn't matter that many of us who say that have never really been anywhere else. You just know that when your best friend gets his ass kicked by the NYPD or when yo...

I'm tired of city life! I want to go and run away to the bush!

i remember during my partying days in nyc when i would meet someone with a child partying amongs us and how horrified i would be. i remember seeing what i thought to be "older" women at parties and thinking, wow, i sure hope i don't end up like that! thinking it the worst fate ever, as if a partying soul is something you could just hang up to rest like a pair of worn shoes. i'm not saying that i party as i used to, but there are people and little moments that when combined, make for the best partying experience no matter what the age. my girl viana is such a person. i mean, when we get together there's a magic that happens where it's actually not even about the party or necessarily the music but the laughter that comes bubbling out that seems to have been bottled up within for way too long. last week she emails me a rsvp to puffy's party. it's your birthday present she tells me. hmmm, i think to myself--i'm not convinced. first of all, it's puf...

This morning as I tumbled outta bed I overheard Bush say on CNN that when the Americans do justice we do it right.

We are the heroes of this situation. We who still smile at each other in grocery stores despite the news. We who still ride bikes late at night in so-called ghettoes. We are the true heroes of this situation We who still ride busses & we who still wear veils we who still remember who we are despite the fact that they all want us to forget. We are the true heroes of this situation We who teach children with softness in our eyes We who give our seats to the elderly & the tired We who see past whiteness & browness & into the universal blackness of humanitys' iris. We who have the courage to try something new even though it means to crack open our dark stubbornness to let the sun shine in.