take a page from my book

breathe in...breathe out.  Ok, I've been meaning to post. Believe me, I've had a lot to share and it usually winds up in the back of my notebook or on my cell phone using a notepad app, as of late.  There's been so much going on and when I've finally been able to check in on my family and friends, I'm saddened to find out that so many of us are going through similar things, suffering in relative silence.  So, in a healthy compromise, I will be sharing more, starting with all the bits and scraps of stories, poems and random thoughts floating at the bottom of my runaway bag aka my purse.  Some of what I share will be autobiographical, some fiction - a little of my story and some of my family and friend's but it will all be relateable because it's a little of me and a little of you. Please leave comments.  I need the feedback. And if you have a story to share and you don't want to leave it in the comments, email me directly at all.lush.everything@gmail.com. So without further ado, here's an excerpt:

No matter how many different ways she added it up, she wasn't going to be able to pay all of her bills this month. Her head throbbed and the back of her neck felt hot but she was used to it by now. Just like she was used to making herself as small as possible to decrease the chances of getting touched by the rush hour crowd or having to ride from Queens to downtown Manhattan, ignoring the growing bulge in the pants of the man staring down into her dress. Candice figured out the minimum payment acceptable for the cable/internet bill. That had to stay on. But she was already on a payment plan for Con Ed after reniging on two previous plans. She had to pay that bill or else paying the cable and internet bill was useless. Her cell phone bill had to be paid because that's how most people contacted her, even though it was mostly for work. Then, there was her Metrocard and groceries and...Candice found herself swaying as the numbers and images of past due stamped bills swirled in her head. The last thing she thought as she crumpled to the sticky floor of the crowded train was, "I can't afford to miss work...I wonder if I can cash in some sick days...I hope I'm wearing panties"

As Candice came to, she smelled something familiar and comforting - florida water and...roses? Grandma? As her eyes started to open her eyes, she remembered. Her grandmother had passed away 3 years before. The memory made Candice want to just lie there in God knows what on the E train floor. "Miss, are you ok?" "Did she hit her head?" "G'dammit, now they gonna call the amberlamps and I'm gonna be late for work!" That bit of negrotude shook her out of her pity party long enough to make Candice sit up.

peace poetry

this is not how i'm feeling today but i wanted to post. let me know how i think.


They just don’t know…

after the last time I sat up all night
crying
wondering if
the last time I saw you
was
really
the last time

my friends confessed that they didn’t
know what I saw in you

them my girls and all
but I don’t tell them everything

like
how I can pick you outta a crowd during rush hour because your aura shines so bright to me
and how laughing at people’s everyday foolishness is one of our many guilty pleasures
and how you make my brain click on after having to dumb down so long
or how I feel like the Original Virgin when you move my hair outta my face
or how my body blooms when you call me baby in that…voice
or how your accents make me cream
or how the warmth of your chest against my back melts that cold wall I put up some times

no
didn’t tell them any of that
they wouldn’t understand those things
those things that we do in the privacy of our togetherness

I don’t complain a lot
or even go into detail about our stuff
They just see my you-induced highs and lows
and being the good girlfriends they are
I guess they assume
that my tears are hurt tears – “he done her wrong” tears
when in fact
they’re just sad tears
tears of uncertainty
from wishing you’d come back to me

excerpt from a short story...

Nina Williams

Every block has one – a fast girl, and the one on my block was named Nina Williams. Nina was the subject of wet dreams and wagging tongues. Oh, how they talked about her! Whispered rumors blew hot and fast (no pun intended) over well-manicured lawns and hedges as soon as Nina stepped out of her house. It didn’t help matters that she preferred walking down the middle of the block, strutting on her own private runway. And the walk…grown folks stopped in their tracks, mid-whisper, to watch that walk. Even with her hair in an “onion”, a pinched ponytail – just enough hair to snatch back, and her generic dirty sneakers, Nina’s walk said that she was grown and ready for whatever.

Every time I saw her, I wondered in amazement. I mean, she wasn’t that pretty. In fact, she was kinda plain - light brown with cinnamon freckles sprinkled across her nose and onto her cheeks, average height, slim, almost flat-chested, average size butt that sat up high, and a smile that reminded me of the Grinch. Every time someone called to her when she walked by, Nina would poke out her lips at them in a silent hello. Like, “I’m too cool and too grown to offer you kids words!” What made her so cool? What did she do so bad that the adults talked about her? Where was she always going? I had no idea but I was intrigued.