Obama just won

.. and motherfuckers are ALREADY trying to argue that racism is over in this country. DAMN.

the STRUGGLE IS NOT OVER.

Obama winning is NOT THE ANSWER for black ppl in America.

This is great, yes. Much better HIM than effing McCain.

OMG I'm watching NBC right now and they didn't wait even FIVE MINUTES till they quoted the "I Have a Dream" speech, with in an old black man talking about how he loves America.

STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT

I can't believe no one sees this coming.

Welcome to a new, colorblind America. A new era, where we are all just one UNITED country.

gah, such bullshit.

Ok, a black man won. Let's make sure that he lives long enough to get sworn in, first off.

Secondly, let's make sure we remember that RACISM HAS NOT ENDED, PEOPLE.

Ugh, I dont even wanna talk about this anymore.

i just voted for the first time

wow...

no words.


wait0 there are words-

OMG- i am TERRIFIED and the tv at home is STUCK on the news... gah.

i h8 africa, but american apparel is o.k.

and i wonder why it is that you hate nigeria
ive never been but i hear that its not that bad of a country
in fact, my mother knew a nigerian man once
he was the one that told her that my name was beautiful
she would fight with my father, try to entice his mouth
to pronounce it the way it was supposed to be
Dah. Muh. Li.
like the Nigerian man coached it to her,
same syllables as the English meaning:
beau.ti.ful.
but daddy always shrugged off that African shit
and just drawled it out the way he saw fit.
DaMawwLi, thats what the yankees will say,
and that was the end of that conversation.

and im sure you've got more money
on yr dashboard than ive got in my bank account
but dont you think thats flaunting it a bit
i googled Nigeria today and
my computer screen was flooded with
beautiful brown faces smiling at me-
i was expecting flames or little devils
or something to indicate the hellhole you had mentioned,
not black faces that look like mine.
what are you saying about me?
do you think i am a black devil?
because when i imagine hell i think of pale face closer to yours.

and now im a bit confused.
i have no idea how to end this poem.
i know ive got a couple options-
call you a deuche,
flip you off,
tell you to suck it
while you enjoy yr miserable life in hell
but rly, i just wish you'd read up a little on nigeria.
it doesn't seem like too bad of a place, really.

eating the other

im here, trapped
down
in the
belly of the white beast-
like jonah, but with no reason to repent.
how'd i end up down here?

i never gave you permission to consume me whole
taking my soul and wrapping it around a pale finger
like a spaghetti strand
i was minding my own business, doing my thing
and before i know it yr sopping me up with sauce and
now... im stuck.

im not giving up without a fight
still kicking around, screaming yelling
but you swallowed me in one gulp
opened yr mouth wide and let me slide down yr throat
while i tried to claw my way out

im not worried, and im not scared either-
ive got some of the greats to keep me comapny

ella, bessie, luis and langston
to name a few
other jazz heads and poets and artists
dancers and dreamers, too.

hoping to blow our way out,
gurgling notes from our very bowels
tryna fly out on high sweet tones or
dance on dissonant chords
come out with heads held high-

ready to reclaim our thrones as
reigning monarchs of birdland.

i can't get hamlet out of my head

"what do the voices sound like?"

we could tell she was gone the second she walked into the classroom. mentally not there. something about the irregularity of her stride, and the way her eyes were so intently focused on her feet. like she was counting her steps. she sat down, introduced herself, and told us she was schizophrenic.

"any questions?"

no one spoke, of course. we all just... sat there.

she looked at each and every one of us, pierced us with her blue eyes and crooked smile. "boo."

we all laughed nervously, and she went straight into the story of when she was diagnosed. told us that she was popular in college, very social. except one day that all stopped and she started locking herself in her room. ignoring people's knocks and phone calls. it got harder to get out of bed each day. no particular reason... "just because... i didn't want to face anyone. or anything. i started blowing off classes. friends. and then... the voices came."

men and women. mostly men. deep, scary voices, telling her negative things. like she was ugly and useless. driving her crazy.

i raised my hand and asked in my timid voice. out of curiosity.

"...but are they always mean? are there any nice voices?"

she looked at me like i was insane.

"what do you think?"

my presidential candidate!

http://www.tsgnet.com/pres.php?id=370743&altf=KE&altl=Tuplfmz

word.

oh no he didnt???

damn.

i feel sad and hurt and confused and disappointed and mad. mostly mad though.

im grateful for wonderful ppl in my life (see below) and also for yogurt covered pretzels. and old xangas/livejournals/diaries that keep me laughing. and good reggae- the stuff that isnt offensive.

and erykah badu.

and james baldwin.... oh!
look at this great quote:

"Artists are here to disturb the peace."
- James Baldwin

YES.