Thursday, September 30, 2010


and if you drop by the house unexpectedly
and hafta use the restroom then dont come
calling on me to hand you a roll of toilet paper
if it runs empty. you are welcome in my home,
but uninvited visitors are not 'a guest' - i am not obliged.

thank you.

- the mngmt.

ibid scribbled at the bottom of my tombstone made a totem turnt a temple

how much scab could a hermitcrab grab if a hermitcrab could grab scab?

ok. i admit to being off my rocker today, but off-my-meds is where i need to be at every day of my life.
creative types shouldnt have to reel themselves back in for the sake of appearances... i, too, wanna walk around with my draws showing, not like the younger generations with their pantses sagging, but like our daddies used to do walking through their own houses in a t-shirt and boxers and a can of pabst in one hand, porn in the other, on the way to the bathroom while mamas were entertaining the jehovah's witnesses dropping through to talk about organized salvation.
(and yes, i said "pantses" - stfu!)

i want my art and poems to grow from a crevice. from the forgotten pot of beans in the back of the fridge that now has a rain forest growing in it. i want ... the hell if i know ... something. different. older than where we are now as a people but still future-forward. reverse-sankofa. an un-diversed dissertation on total damnation written from the hands of some dawn-dead zombies and have it be a poem of love and affection. thats what i'm wanting. to be so fkn retro its original. to sit on the Great Porch built by the hands of those forced into serving me. to be an overseer. shotgun across my lap, marcus garvey and kwame nkrumah on my ipod. reading franz fanon on my ipad. whipping my fieldhands, the scarification on their backs my folk-art; telling toby his new name is achebe.
(and yes, muhfkr, i said 'lissen'... no, wait. no i didnt. i deleted that part.
but i'm not sorry for callin you a muhfkr. live with it.)

its not that i'm antisocial (because i am), its just... i'm just not counter-cultural enough. i think.
the status quo has tainted what it means to living-up-to-your-responsibilities. i love doing what others expect of me, as long as what's expected of me is based on the name i've created for myself and not by the stereotypes associated with 'black/art/literature'.

you probably dont understand.

its not just a black thang.

its a blacker thing.

Friday, September 24, 2010

i would give anything

to own the truck currently used in my banner. that is the dopest thing on 4 wheels. i could be driver/curator for the black-apothecary-traveling-splinter-art-and-broken-lit-splitters-show...
like a new-era bingo long!

have a bell, like the old-fashioned ice cream trucks used to have. (god, how i miss ice-cream trucks! not popsicle  truck, ice-cream! remember how they useta swirl vanilla and chocolate double-barreled from the side? simply beautiful.)

my daughter calls me weird.

i dont deny it.

ding, ding, ding... we have a new champion!

and the winner by tko is
(ref lifts the arms of.... ) .... ... ... ... ... the people's champion!

okay... i can be simple and direct. i'm not always so theatrical.

i'm talknabout the blogsite AUNT JEMIMA'S REVENGE! they are holding it down!

Thursday, September 23, 2010

"O" is for...

its sad when one of the freshest things in hiphop isnt actually hiphop but a homage to it...

there are exceptions, but exceptions are usually fleeting.

O from Daniele Manoli on Vimeo.

Daniele Manoli - check out his entire alphabet on vimeo.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

baby has a new blog...

crystal wilkinson is kinda obsessive.

which is a very good thing when comes to being a literary creative
(i freely admit to being biased, but let me rephrase that as "creative literary genius!")...

when first we met 4 years ago, she was "2 months" away from finishing her latest project, her first full-length novel, "The Birds of Opulence". well... nearly 4 years since, the books 'official' wrap-up was 2 months AGO. she has agonized over ever page, plot and neurotic psychosis of every major character of the novel since i've known her, taking breaks only to grade papers, sit on panels, give readings, change diapers, feed abandoned pets, make breakfast, mourn, fret over hospitalized loved ones, catch up on gossip, commute 75 miles 1-way to her morehead state university day-job, pinch people, facebook, tweet, etc, etc.....
okay - that seems like a helluva lot now that i mention it. no wonder its taken 4 years to complete "one final chapter."

but in truth, not only are crystal's plates full, but so are her saucers, cups,  bowls, her pots, and her sauce pans... all burners are always on blast. she lives a very full life. she lives and loves and leads by example. she's 'good people', as the old-heads say.

both of us are lousy at actual self-promotion, a social networking sin in this day and age where digital communiques have become the typical first option for people wanting to stay in the loop on the status of certain projects and the people behind them. we're actually better at promoting each other than with ourselves - in fact, of the two blogs i 'actively' stay on top of, i consider this new entry only my second 'serious' posting, the existence of which is only to announce the launch of her own new blog write with  your spine.

okay, maybe this is where my sense of competition has kicked in... crystal doesnt play spades or tonk (the perennial card games of choice for louisville's native sons and daughters!) and is happy spelling 3- and 4-letter words in scrabble instead of attempting to crush the shit out her opponents (another tragic symptom of being a native louisvillian) - with her one blog she has already doubled the number of followers for my two combined! i mean, i really suck at this...
- to be fair to myself, i havent taught a million students, havent read literary excerpts to a billion people, dont have no where near a trillion friends and acquaintances. upfromsumdirt is practically an unknown entity, but the act of invisibility is a dying art form i've learned to master since birth.
except for when my overly aggressive competitive side rises from its self-induced coma...
i absolutely SUFFER knowing that i'll never be half the literary writer that she is; in fact,
it. is. an. absolute. torture.

i think i need a psychologist.

baby has a new blog.
for those wanting to have a little more insight into the mindset of an award-winning author and highly touted professor of creative writing, then write with your spine is the place to start. i mean, i learn something new about the creative process everyday while simply watching her wash a load of clothing - she is always on! - so her having an entire blog about it? i now have a legitimate reason for wanting to have 'a life' online.

Thursday, September 02, 2010

engine block feng shui for boy davis' only son (work in progress)

even tho it was still a work in progress, i removed the poem because i just submitted it to a journal
for review. some journals regard blog posts as 'publishing' and wont consider them for publication.

if it isnt picked up i'll repost it here in a few months.

i'd be happy to send it as an email to anyone interested.