Red Summer's Blog, page 3

I Wanna Fuck Rick Ross

Yes! You read that right. I have been overcome with this uncontrollable feeling to fuck Rick Ross. Raw, ghetto-hood style. Get grimy with it. Yes, I tried to hold it in, but I just can’t! The truth will set me free and I feel like my lady-like tendencies have held me back for way too long. I have to admit it. I wanna fuck Rick Ross!

I want to set up a camera, invite him over, get him comfortable, make him feel safe and special… then I want to slip a lil something in his drink. Play some Miguel. Yeah, I wanna play some Miguel to set the mood as I wonder how many drinks it will take until I can get him out of those clothes.  He will think it’s just an intimate night, but it won’t be. I got real big plans for him. When he starts getting a little loopy, I’ll get him to where I need him to be… The Bedroom ladies. Yes, I wanna get Rick Ross’ drunken and drugged ass in my bedroom. Help him get a little more comfortable, get him out of all those clothes. I’ll let him leave his chains on, I may need them for later.

I want to wait until he’s passed all the way out, go in my boot box under the bed and pull out this nice 12 inch dildo I found at a toy store just outside of town. Skip the lube baby… Naw, we don’t need no foreplay. We fucking! Remember? And all I can think about is fucking you Rick Ross. Fucking you like a Boss! The only hesitation I would have is this monster cock (or Donkey Dong as it says on the label) is dark brown and I know you don’t like dark skin… but you won’t even know! So, I don’t have to hesitate for long. Yes, I will switch on the camera and fuck you with my Donkey Dong as long as I want. I want the world to watch you slide on THIS pole Ricky Baby! I may even get a lil R. Kelly on you and piss on you while you lay there. Awww… don’t get upset! I wouldn’t call this rape. It’s not rape when it happens to Black women and girls all over the world. It’s not rape when you have a promising future ahead of you. And I do Rick. As soon as this tape gets out, I’ll be rich like you and Miguel and Kelz. Then I can get away with it. I’ll call it art and expression and I’ll make sure it gets played over and over again so everybody will see YOUR big ass cheeks spread and shaking as I “not rape” you. Cause I don’t condone rape either Rick. Since this is not rape. It should be okay. Right?

Miguel… what song are you singing now baby? Oh, you want to Adorn me with your love? Well, Aww Skeet Skeet Motherfucker!

chiraqi refugee (a work in progress)

i had just given up my dream of moving back to new orleans

decided to stay and work within the system

when i saw the floods, the people swimming to safety

the bodies piled behind the dome

and i quietly thanked my angels for making me stay home

in chicago

i watched on television as all of the places i remembered

languished under watery graves

at the people trying to get away

and my baby said the thing i would never have allowed myself to say

mommy, they look like slaves

just as i was trying to use this teachable moment

to talk about the insidious nature of poverty

and dismissive public policy

something distracted me

two words from the tv

left me

speechless

these refugees

 

i remember the outrage

you can’t be a refugee in your own country

you can be displaced

you can be a survivor

but we are NOT refugees

i heard the people shouting

demanding their dignity

 

i can’t say that

i don’t feel the same kind of pride

in staying alive while my people continue to die

but the graves in my city are the kind you would expect in a war zone

blood and bone

tears and despair

waiting for the american government to finally hear our cries

and go there

 

i am a chiraqi refugee

who fled to the land of jim crow and slavery

and old fashioned southern hospitality

just trying to live free

 

i didn’t have to wait for murder number 353

before i decided it was time to flee

i gathered up what i could carry

right after my 8th student was buried

and i got out of there at the first sign of rain

i learned from what i saw with Katrina

and i don’t have to wait around

for the sirens to sound

i know to get out early

 

my children and i ended up in different cities

as our exodus landed us in different parts of the country

it was almost a year before they were returned to me

now we

live 8 of us in one house

with a few others who have been in and out

trying to escape the devastation happening at home

trying to get far enough away that the sounds of bullets flying

can be drowned out by mosquitoes

 

question

if a body falls in the playground

and nobody was around to id a shooter

does it even make a sound

 

i am a refugee

returning to the land of slavery

going back to the land my grandfathers abandoned

searching for a better life

in the big city

 

pity what they’ve done to the place

so many gym shoes laced and thrown on the line

we gone blow out all the power in no time

hell, i can’t even find where to cop a dime no mo

all these po ass mommas on the grind

trying to come up with enough money

to bury their last, first or only child

from rogers park to the hundreds

it’s all wild wild in chicago

old man

young woman

or lil baby

you just never know

and

i do kinda wonder what part of you

you would have to undo

to bury a  6 month old gun shot victim

wonder if her mama just feels like her baby was still born

 

but what can we say to all the mothers of all the babies who are still born

in chicago

reminds me of the congo

and i am inside hotel rwanda

trying to get word that everyone is okay

i feel that way

 

like a refugee

watching the mass genocide of my people on tv

leaving a candle burning in the window for all those who came after me

to the land of jim crow and slavery

and good old southern hospitality

reversing the exodus of our history

just trying to live free

How to Peel an Onion

1. Let your name be more than an exotic spice in the mouths of colonists. Let it make them cry without apologizing for your flavor. Hide all the water. Make them burn their lazy tongues, take deep breaths and take it whole. Make them swallow hard and accomplish the impossible. Do not give them the congratulatory tee-shirt to commemorate their consumption of your humanity. Make them look you in your eyes when they say your name! Quevenzhene’, Gabourey, Shaquita, Latifah and Ayanna! Put it on all your applications in bold letters and make the T silent on purpose!

2. Be bold! Fill their nostrils with your scent. Shine your light in their eyes. Be brazen in your otherness. Put same to shame. Cripwalk at the Olympics, do the Beenie Weenie in the end zone, wear yo afro with your evening gown. Be amazing on your own terms. Patent your recipe before they sell yo shit on ebay.

3. Put bread in your mouth. They hate to know you’re eating well.

4. Cut quick! Don’t wait till you calm down. Call them what they are to their faces. Put mirrors up all around and show them their reflection. Let them know you are watching. Learn to write letters and emails, make phone calls and show up at the protest. Threaten to boycott the investors and advertisers. Then do it! Talk about it with your friends. Call your local stations. Agree on a plan of action and go with it. Put your money where your dignity is.

5. Turn up the heat. Hold them in the fire till they sizzle. Let them get used to watching what they say about you. If they call yo Momma “Gal” you won’t believe what they will call your daughters. Make them apologize in front of everybody.

6. Go past the top layer. Be able to identify when the you need to go deeper. Don’t be afraid to get past the dirt and rough edges. Fold back the exterior. Dig down the the heart of the matter. Expose the fleshy part. This is where it gets hard. Do it anyway.

7. Leave the tiny center in tact. Protect her at all costs.

8. Appreciate your lines and layers. Walk up to a mirror, say “Hey there Beautiful” and blush. It will be revolutionary. Trust me.

9. Hold the funky part up to your nose. Smell the stench for yourself. Know what it looks like so you recognize it when you see it again. History and insults are often repeated. Stop them both before they come back around again.

10. Gon and cry if you need to. Aint no shame in that.

OutWrite D.C.

What I know for Sure… Compatibility Before Commitment

Everything you’ve heard about me is true. I’m a handful and some. I have many flaws and I can be a bit of an ass when I get into my moods. The friends and partners that I have had in my life have had the best and the worst at one time. One thing about me, is I can admit my shit. I might not admit it to you… but I know what it is. If you are more than meek and willing to seek out a relationship with me (friendship or otherwise), these are some of the things we must accept going into it.

I used to have this debate with my college roommate of whether you are bound to love someone the way THEY want to be loved or is it good enough that you love them the best way you know to. My position on the argument has gone back and forth over the years, but the question keeps coming up to me in many ways. I have come to learn that when you go into a situation with a person that you are not compatible with, who does not see love and loving the way you do… it’s your duty to free that person and focus that energy on someone who does. Can people grow and change? Sure, should they have to just to be in your life? Eh… maybe!

What I know for sure… is compatibility has to come before commitment. Often times we run into relationships without seeing if this is even a person who we should even be talking to. You can waste a lot of time trying to teach and train a person to love you the way you see love. You can spend a lot of years going without and living your life in lack because you have committed to a person who is either unwilling or unable to give you what you need. You can hold on to hope that things will eventually work out. Or… you can do something else.

What I know for sure… No Means No

I’m not having sex when I don’t want to. I’m just going to put it out there first ,so there’s no miscommunication on the subject. It has taken me well into my adult life to get to this point and I’m not budging on it. I’m not being guilted into it, I’m not pretending to be convinced to do it, I’m not being pressured into it and as much as I can physically prevent it, I’m not being forced into it. I’m saying and meaning NO!

I lost agency over my body and my sexuality at the ripe old age of 9 years old. A man that everyone trusted forced himself on me. Like all good black girls are taught to do, I dealt with it on my own. It got to a point where I thought that this is what it was supposed to be like. The violence, the emptiness, the numbness. I didn’t expect more from it than that. I didn’t know to. I found myself in this position with my boyfriends, my husband, my girlfriends and even a couple random motherfuckers I’m not even close to like that. Faced with their desire and my lack of… I’m supposed to submit. This is what was drilled into me time and time again. If I didn’t, there were always consequences to pay.

What I know for sure… I No means No! I forgive myself for not knowing the power of my own voice. The power of my own desire. The strength that it takes to say “fuck your consequences, you’re not fucking me!” Most importantly, I forgive myself for every time I suffered silently instead of fighting for my sanctity or demanding some consequences of my own.

What I know for sure… Who You Call, Answers.

I looked around one day and realized that I do have a type. Everyone may not have looked the same, had the same careers or simple things like that. But, they are the same in a lot of key ways. Because of that, the way I related to them was pretty consistent. I found that I was having the same relationship over and over, I was the same kind of disappointed and they ended up the same… I wanted to leave. I left.

Since I can often see myself better when I observe someone else, I looked at the patterns of people who continue to find abusive partners. Those who continue to find emotionally needy people… or whatever kind of people we keep ending up with. It became a lot more clear that I wasn’t getting what I said I wanted, I was getting what I was willing to settle for. My unspoken reality was louder than my pseudo-philosophical conversation, more convincing than my intellectual discourse and more attractive than my poetic musings. I didn’t want what I said I wanted, I really wanted what I kept getting.

What I know for sure is… Who you call, answers. You invite people into your life. You tell them who you are to them, who they are to you and how you will relate to one another. You set your value and place yourself in the position of power or powerlessness according to your own will. It is only when you change from a fundamental standpoint, that you will attract someone who is in line with your new intention and not the old one. You will keep getting the same person as long as you keep dialing the same number.

What I know for sure… Life Goes On

No… the whole world didn’t end this time either. There was no cataclysmic apocalypse that destroyed the Earth… but, I think it’s hard to deny that things are changing. I spent a lot of my life afraid of all the things that have been happening in my life just in the last few months. I held on for dear life to people and situations that no longer served a prominent place in my life. I needed them… for whatever reason and I made space even if it overcrowded my life. I operated out of fear and doubt. None of it made me happy.

The paradigm shift that has occurred has caused me to do some real soul searching. Who am I really? What will I contribute? What am I worth? How will I identify myself and what weight will those identities carry in my life? How will my actions, words and intentions finally converge to present my true self? When the baggage that I carried started to fall away… I was left with some very raw realities. If I was going to be an authentic person, having authentic experiences… I had to change my whole way of moving in the world. By letting go of my strongest motivator, I would totally change myself.

What I know for sure is… Life Goes On! If I don’t have this person, that degree, this job, that relationship… am I not still an awesome being? Other people, homes, cars, jobs, opportunities and relationships will still be available to me. The world didn’t end. That means that I have just a little more time to get this thing right. The next apocalypse could happen any moment. I don’t want to be then, who I am now.

What I know for sure… Every Rose has a Thorn

This last few months has been a crazy good time. It has been a time of validation and recognition. I have had some amazing honors bestowed upon me. I have had some amazing friendships formed. I have had some amazing confirmations and opportunities. It is such a blessing to receive your roses while you can still smell them I have thoroughly enjoyed this time. It has not been without it’s trials however, but I am learning to take it all in stride.

There was a show called Iconoclast where Dave Chappell and Maya Angelou interviewed each other. One of the words of wisdom that Maya gave was “I don’t pick it up and I don’t put it down.” She explained that if she had been inflated by the accolades and believed that she was wonderful and fabulous and a star when the world told her she was, they would also have the power to deflate her when they said she’s a has been, no longer relevant and has lost her flair. So when the they come, the compliments and the criticism, she accepts them all with grace and doesn’t put them to close to her chest.

What I know for sure… is Every Rose has a Thorn. You have to know how to balance the opinions of others. Take them and use them for how they can best serve you, but do not define yourself by them. They are a tricky thing.  You need to know just how to accept them, or you will really hurt yourself… The roses and the opinions… of course.

What I know for sure… Leap and the Net Will Appear

I used to be a dreamer. I would sit on the phone with friends, thinking up some wonderful things to do. I came up with several wonderful proposals for programs for young people. I wrote out plan after plan for things I wanted to accomplish. I would give myself deadlines and I even got one of those huge post it pads that stick on the wall and wrote affirmations, strategic business plans and creative ideas. I was a wealth of good ideas. So much so, that one of the businesses my best friend and I came up with, was a consulting firm called Good Ideas! I was unstoppable. Well… almost!

The problem was, I very seldom acted on any of those good ideas. I needed a team of people to help me. I couldn’t take these tasks on alone. I called in people to help. I was so great at finding people who had skills, talent and pure genius. What I was not good at was finding people with drive and the will to finish the projects I had in mind. Defeated by what I thought was a lack of enthusiasm, I went out and completed a few tasks with the 1 or 2 folks who showed up out of the blue and were willing to help. I went out and accomplished a few of the tasks on the list and went back to the same group saying “See what is possible, come on.” We met, we planned, we talked and we went home. Deflated yet again, I tried another task. I went out on an unofficial speaking tour, I met a new friend who became my booking agent and ended up on a full fledged book tour. That led to college appearance, acting gigs, movie productions and a host of new people to accomplish those things with. I went back to the old gang to bring them in one last time… and something occurred to me. I had the team I needed to accomplish those goals already.

What I know for sure… is if you leap, the net will appear. I was stuck on thinking that what I wanted for my old friends was what they wanted for themselves. What I projected onto them, only created resentment and stagnation. But, when I went out and started the process of actually doing what I said I wanted to do… all of the people who were supposed to be there to help… were there. Every single time!