can you tell me please

what makes a good poem? what makes a bad poem? what makes a good poet? i ask myself that when i search for poetry- i guess there is a part of me that just expects to just come across something wonderful when i search for poetry, instead of the same 20 names, all or mostly dead, writing in an old school rhyme or writing abt nature and snow and rosy cheeks and other things that i don't really care abt or can't actually understand/translate. there are so many poets and poems out there- who decides what the 100 greatest works of words are, and are they old and dead too?

what makes love so good (or even, so bad)? what makes us want to write abt love so much? i am tired of writing grrls long, sad love poems, none that i will ever show them, or admit to writing for them. i want someone to feed me love poems, and i want them to full of humor and happiness, and most importantly, love.

this poem isn't an example of the kind of poem that i want, but the first line made me lick my lips, and the first verse made me think abt something very personal that i had written a short while ago:

Movement Song

by Audre Lorde

I have studied the tight curls on the back of your neck

moving away from me

beyond anger or failure

your face in the evening schools of longing

through mornings of wish and ripen

we were always saying goodbye

in the blood in the bone over coffee

before dashing for elevators going

in opposite directions

without goodbyes.

Do not remember me as a bridge nor a roof

as the maker of legends

nor as a trap

door to that world

where black and white clericals

hang on the edge of beauty in five oclock elevators

twitching their shoulders to avoid other flesh

and now

there is someone to speak for them

moving away from me into tomorrows

morning of wish and ripen

your goodbye is a promise of lightning

in the last angels hand

unwelcome and warning

the sands have run out against us

we were rewarded by journeys

away from each other

into desire

into mornings alone

where excuse and endurance mingle

conceiving decision.

Do not remember me

as disaster

nor as the keeper of secrets

I am a fellow rider in the cattle cars

watching

you move slowly out of my bed

saying we cannot waste time

only ourselves.

who the hell am i and how did i end up here?

hey guys.

i am sorry it has taken me a while to post anything, or to even do a video update. there is so much i want to talk about, so much i want to tell and share with you all, but for the past few days, i have felt very pent up- constipated creatively (sorry for the shitty -no pun intended- mental images). i am actually surprised that i feel up to writing today, but this is going to be very frazzled, so bear with me.

i have been very unsatisfied. my loneliness//homesickness is showing through me constantly feeling restless and sleep deprived. its hard because i feel like i need to spew out feelings and words and thoughts with people, and am so used to being able to go lay/complain in najee or mikayla's bed or smoke a cig on the stoop with skrim or send stupid texts, saying "nyah nyah nyaaah" to helyx or just generally be around c.jarelle all the time. plus i learned that it is hard to fall asleep when you are not hogging yr best friend's covers. i miss being at hampshire, but i don't feel like i am in a place where i can be there. i kind of want to go back, back a couple of semesters and start from there again. but its different now. hampshire feels different and i feel different.

i am constantly having identity crises. i have explained it to some people before, but i have a couple of names, and they all suit me at different times. sometimes i feel very much like a stokely or a jd, but at other times i feel very much like a damali too. sometimes, i am forced into a specific name, like on the first day of school, or when i go home for breaks, and this makes me very disoriented for a couple of days. but i think that when i decided i was going to go by jd stokely, i assumed that this was my "boy name". under the "about me" section of this blog, i originally had something along the lines of "m. hopper likes flowers and dresses and she dislikes ______. jd stokely is a fratboi wannabe and he likes ______." i think i automatically put my different names//ways of expressing myself into neat little boxes. i thought that when i was stokely, i had to be soo masculine, and to be honest, i think there are a lot of times where i overdid it. i think i felt like i had to compensate for something, like i had to show how macho i was because by "turning my swag on" i could forget abt how big jd's bra cup size is, as well as forget how that might affect the way that they function through the world. i often caught myself thinking really misogynistic thoughts, like feeling possessive//protective over female friends. i think that sometimes my friends might have unconsciously fed into that not-really-still-a-little-boy-not-yet-a-grown-man mentality that i had by coddling that forming black masculinity. in the end, i kind of exhausted myself out.

when i left new york at the beginning of august, i had to prepare myself mentally for "becoming damali". i think over a month of it really threw me off, especially since i came to london right after being home. a lot of my clothes reflect that month of being home. i have a lot of flowy scarves, a dress or two, shiny ballet flats. at first i was uncomfortable with wearing those clothes, many of them hand-me-downs from my mother. then i began to take every day as a drag performance. instead of fighting against the dresses, i would wear them with red lipstick and tiny cardigans. it was a fun game, but then i would obsess with what i was going to wear the next day. i would wake up in the middle of the night and try on clothes, have my own personal fashion show. i would put on the clothes, take time putting on lots of makeup and jewelry, turn on all of the lights and take pictures on photobooth. i know that sounds strange- mostly because it is. i would spend hours doing this every night, and i couldn't sleep unless i did it. whenever i took off the clothes and wiped off the makeup,i always felt like i had just spent the night cross-dressing, like what i had just done was bad.

by the end of august, i felt very confused. i didn't feel comfortable wearing more masculine presenting clothes, and even if i wanted to, my mother would always have something to say. i also didn't feel like playing the part of my mom's cute straight, girly daughter (i notice when i go home and try to "pass"- sadly, i have been guilty of doing this- i always interpret "girly" or "straight" as very cutesy, frilly, young-looking.") i decided that i wanted to experiment more with what feminine meant to me through clothing, but thought that i didn't want to do it for anyone's sake but mine. i wanted to find ways to express my queerness and my femininity. one night, i discovered that i wanted to king it up for a bit, and created the persona (another one, i know) of franklin, or "frankée fierce". i never got to fully flesh out this persona, but for me, i discovered that one way that i could express my femininity and my masculinity was through the persona of a gay male. i think that there is a side of me that is very much a gay man, but that is beside the point. unfortunately, i have not had a chance to explore frankée more, but he comes out occasionally.

but, anyways. i am in london. i am still feeling bottled and confused.

i think that this is mostly because i really lack a home base. i want someone i can vent to, someone i am close enough to who will listen to my crushes and stupid, slfish complaints abt gender, and generally spend all my time with. i know that it is selfish, but i really feel like i need a good friend right now, and i know that it is hard to just befriend people, but it feels like everyone else has found that here already. i feel like i am doing something wrong, and i keep thinking- i am only here for 2 1/2 more months. i am running out of time for friendship. the time is going by so quickly, but it also feels like it is going by so slowly because i am so alone. it drives me crazy. my flat is lovely- i really enjoy spending time with everyone in it. however, they are all straight and 18/19 and have very crappy, liberal lovey-dovey politics. in fact, the video i am working on right now is called, "can we please not talk politics? i want to still respect you in the morning." harsh, i know, but i have yet to find conversation that i feel pushes me forward. i feel like i am back in that white//str8 place where i have to be the educating token queerblackfriend. and i don't like it at all. i don't even have good politics! i am still working on myself and i want people who can help me work on myself, recommend good essays to read and call me out on my shit or call me out on not calling others out on their shit. what im really saying is that i want you guys here. i have a queer friend but it is always so hard to find him//hang out with him because he is always herethereeverywhereandnowhere, yes, like freddy. i also dont know him that well, although he promises me a day of hangingout, listening to queercore and eating pie.

i have even been to the library and taken out 6 (i originally htought it was 7 but i realiz now that i miscounted) books from the library, only one for class and the rest all abt queer theory. the ones that i am the most excited abt reading are black queer studies, queers in space, and feminist and queer performance. the only downside is that it has been so long since my brain has done anything academic, and i need someone to help me digest it all (the one queer conversation that ive had here that i was excited abt was for five minutes in the middle of a gay club during a katy perry song that i sat down for in protest and i could barely hear them over the music. they also no longer go to goldsmiths. i also havent seen them since.) i am surrounding myself with piles of books so that i can flip through pages to find one image of me or at least one sentence of something familiar. its not working- i just feel tired all the time from all the readings.

AND SO, IN CONCLUSION-

the actual reason i started writing this note. i feel very lonely and miss my people//community. you guys are my roots. because of this, i am constantly in a very hazy, vague state of mind, also causing me sleep deprived nights, while also always making me tired. i also feel like i haven't been able to express myself creatively or verbally, which is why i haven't updated as much (via email, letters, vlogs). I also feel like it is affecting the way that i express my gender//identity, and i have no idea what name i am at right now, or how i should-or want to be- dressing or who i should-or want to be- seeking out for company. i also spend way too much time on facebook, and have been looking at old pictures of myself- reminiscing abt who i was in the different stages of my life, who i am now, who i will be. i start thinking, maybe i should have grown up to be this way, or, when did i start looking//acting like that? i am excited abt this trip and glad to be here and am enjoying myself, but i am anxious to find people to share it with.

and with all that said, i will definitely try to start writing again, there are more poems for people coming up, as well as vlogs, emails, etc. love you all, thank you for reading this through. i'm not quite sure if it makes sense, since it was an hour-long ramble!

** oh, and here is the picture that started this whole train of thought!! me, at 16.
**

not because he's black, but because he's brilliant...

i am so mad.

we got into a discussion abt the obamas today in the car..

me, my mom, my "aunt" (and my lil bro and "cousin") were driving back home from the mall and my aunt showed us the copy of essence with the obama family. this stared a conversation abt how great obama is. how strong his family is. why obama would be a great president. why everyone in the world should support obama.

i chimed in here and there, yes, they look great, yes they are a wonderful family, yes i really do respect the obamas.

and then my aunt mentions that i am old enough to vote.

and i agree, yes, this is true i am old enough to vote.

and she goes well thats great because yr vote will really count. we need all the votes we can get for obama. and i planned on just going "mm" or smiling or something, but that really irked me, the way that she assumed that i was automatically voting for obama. so i told her the truth, that i am not sure who i am going to vote for yet.

and that got my aunt and mom all upset, about how we need all the votes we can get, who else was there to vote for, don't i want my vote to count.

and i tried in my most respectful way to say that yes, i want my vote to count, and that my first time voting is important to me. and i want to vote smart, not just support someone because i feel like i should have to, but really look into the people's politics. that i wanted my vote to count for something.

and they couldn't wrap their minds around why i wouldnt be voting for obama. and the way that they made me feel was so infuriating.. it was as if i was just a child and i would learn better. in fact, my mother said that i was being silly, i just wanted to pull a lever, that i wanted to make a political stance.

YES. YES I DO WANT TO MAKE A POLITICAL STANCE. POLITICS ARE FUCKING POLITICAL.

then my mom went into a rant abt white fucking liberals and how they don't do anything for black ppl and how they stab you in the back, etc, etc... first off. i never said i was voting for a white liberal. and i agree. i have little to no respect for white liberals because i have learned that white liberal = colorblind racist, NOT progressive anti racist. the white liberals that i have met don't want to talk abt race, dont want to acknowledge its existence, and the effect it still has on our society. i never said i was liberal. and thirdly, didnt i say i wasnt sure who i was voting for? didnt i say that? i didnt jump up out of my seat and go, LET'S GO GREEN PARTY, WHITE LIBERALISM ALL THE WAY.

my mom also says that not all political candidates are perfect. that she doesnt agree with a good amt of things that obama believes, but supoprts him anyway. and that a lot of black people are really conservative. well mom, i'm not conservative. why would i vote for someone with conservative views... and why would i vote for someone that i don't agree with... is it because my loyalty to my blackness? because if thats the case, wouldnt that give me more of a reasont o vote green, in allegiance with my blackness AND my womon-ness?

then my aunt tries to reason with me and says that she hopes that i get the chance to educate myself and find that obama truly is the right candidate. and offers me his book on CD. i was pissy so i declined. not because i dont want to read the book (because as i said earlier i want to educate myself) but because of the tone in which she offered it. the fact that i will educate myself and find that he is the right candidate for me.. wtf.

they continue their obama discussion, ignoring me, but still talking for my "benefit"- you know, the way that parents do.. and my aunt says something that sticks with me. apparently, when oprah was helping campaign for obama, she told america, don't vote for obama because he's black, but because he's brilliant.

beautifully said...

but the biggest load of horse shit ive ever heard. and how dare you mention that when you just cracked a joke that obama should get a mexican VP, because thats the only way he wont get shot in office...

of course people are voting for him because he's black! of course! especially those damned white "liberals" that my mother mentioned earlier (kind of like the one she's dating)... oh, how "progressive" to support this black man... i feel that there is no way that we can ignore the fact that obama is black. DUH. just look at the guy. just hear how ppl talk abt him, positive or negative. we always mention the fact that he could have a black president, that he is a black man with a black man and a black family and black obama black black black.

i dont think this is a negative thing.

in fact, i am glad that we can admire this strong black man... that we can acknowledge his blackness.. hopefully that will encourage race dialogue.

and if you want to vote for him because he's black ad you feel a sense of loyalty to him because yr also black, hell.. thats fine too! i feel an allegiance to a lotta folk because we're black.. we gotta look out for each other, support each other. i support the obama family, i admire them. i just dont want to vote for him without knowing his politics.. and also, i dont want to be questioned as to why im not voting for my fellow black countryman. cuz if thats the case, the green party has two black folk running for the candidacy (thats twice the allegiance) AND they're womyn! (thats another point there, too). i want to take oprah's advice, and vote for someone because they're brilliant, not because they're black (because if i voted on who's blacker- not "attitude" wise, but whose actually blacker- obama would lose.)

but i dont know.. i just want the opportunity to educate myself on these guys, and really take this srsly. i want to be able to say, i voted for ___ because i agree with their politics on _______, _______, and _____ and honestly think that they would be great at running our country. i dont want to walk out saying, i voted for obama because hes black. come on, now! maybe obama will be the one to fill in those blanks, maybe mckinney (hellthe fuck naw it wont be mccain's dumb ass) but i want the freedom to figure that out. is that too much to ask?? should i be ridiculed and treated as if i am silly and young and trying to make a statement with my white liberals?? NO.

and ill buy obamas book with my own damned money, thankyouverymuch.


...and lastly, i would like to say that the family looks FIERCE on that magazine cover.