it must be you

jazz diddy | poetry

unliklihood of losing and
sad and lonesome turned amusing in
a wooden box for a room
whose walls are made of music
and whose ceiling is infused with
early evenin whispers in june

dreams I can almost touch
rain that washes away the gloom
must mean that 'I love you so much':
the living essence of my lilies' bloom

a spur-of-the-moment rendez-vous
any excuse just to be with you
even if it's just for a while
watching you play me a tune
at your keyboard with a backdrop view
of a wall of windows coerces me to smile

dreams I can almost touch
a one-on-one backyard game
must mean that 'I love you so much':
the moonlight that brings sunshine to my day

it's not that I've never seen a sky at night
or drank away my sorrows with lemonade
been to a show a time or two
but I ain't never felt this way
my darlin I think it must be you

dreams I can almost touch
rain that washes away the gloom
mean that 'I love you so much':
the living essence of my lilies' bloom

I ain't never felt this way
my darlin it has got to be you

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remembering now

beautiful randomness

I live my life like a memory.

Constantly aware of my future's reminiscence of my current me, I wake up having only gained from my experience what I know I will have need for then. I see my future self needing my current me to be just as she is when she is. And she smiles knowing I was in on her (not so) secret, content that I paid her wish heed.

(What is a memory? Not a replica of an event or emotion, but a representation. A collection of images that aren't really even that. (Can I not, then, remember my future? I think they call that deja vu.) How, then, do we seperate our memories from our fantasies? Was it that he grazed my cheek with the intention of making my blood run hot, or did he really just want to brush the hair from my face? fantasies, dreams, memories, desires. what are they all but intangible actualities: known, maintained, inexcapable, true.. to someone at least. namely: me)

She lives her life exactly as she imagined (remembered) she would. Because she lived her life exactly as she wanted (needed) to.

(Is it impossible to enjoy life as it happens if you're too busy trying to remember it before it's over? Or is it that you enjoy it that much more for taking it in. Twice the fun. Three times upon my future's reminisence. Mmm, his warmth is becoming mine. became mine. becomes mine..)

What marvel there is in the comfort of knowing that if given the chance, your future you wouldn't change a thing about who your are, were, am

the paint splattered walls of the mind match the slush scribbled parameters of this house.. or is it the inverse?

Either way, I remember them.

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totally random blogpost about kwanzaa (and stuff)

man it's funny. I've been changing so much, right before my own eyes. I was not too long ago the every-sunday-church-goin, all-As-recieving, hair-relaxed-wearin, preppy-dressed, just-say-no-proclaimin, 'they-call-me-shy-cus-I-am'-introducin, save-myself-til-marriage Chaina. I'm no longer quite as reserved. and more and more I see myself becoming more.. "afro-centric"- maybe it's the hair. ha. seriously though, you couldn't have told me even 5 years ago that I would one day be sitting in a room in Paris, hair self-dreading, missing green, and thinking about celebrating kwanzaa. yes, kwanzaa. hear me out:


so I was thinking: non-christians shouldn't celebrate Christmas. or at least they shouldn't call their celebration and gift-giving Christmas. as I am currently searching myself and my surroundings for my personal 'where do I come from' answer to the great humanity question, I began to think, what if I decide I'm not a Christian? I still want to extra-spoil my kids once a year! not just that, of course. but the spirit of Christmas warms me. the family time energizes me. and the gifts have always been more about giving as a show of love for me than a time to recieve. so I thought of Kwanzaa. looked it up. and I really like it's tenants, its core. while I probably wouldn't wear african garb, I would most definately love a time to focus on (and focus my family on) the importance of unity, creativity, and self-determination for example. I would focus on it's connection to Africa for historical purposes, but not in a back-to-africa sense. I do not wish to imitate Africans, nor do I wish to insinuate that we're some kind of quasi-african, I simply wish to celebrate parts of their everyday culture that I also hold dear and appreciate.


what's more it lasts a week! this gives the family so much time to truely reflect on what's important. gives it time to sink in.

now is this a holiday? I wouldn't say so. but I also wouldn't say that mattered. it's a celebration of love, life, and responsibility. hmmm.. still thinking, but I really like this. PLUS it can't possibly clash with any religious tenants I may hold dear in the future (including Christianity) and will compliment them well, if needed.

I'm trying to tell myself I'm not becoming a characiture of some afro-hippie of the past but I must say, I'm only doing what I'm truely led to. it's just so strange, even to me, considering this is nothing like my upbringing. I mean my Grandma Lee celebrated/s kwanzaa but I never did with her, (I just remember reading it on the Merry Christmas/Happy Kwanzaa card with my gift). I was the first to go natural in my house (now there are 2 dreadheads and me), and even then it wasn't about going back to my roots so much as me wanting a wild curly mane, and not to learn how to relax my own hair. and what's more it's not that I'm influenced by some 'cool kids' group on campus. I'm in paris for goodness' sake, having random epiphanies about kwanzaa and letting my hair dread out of laziness. I guess I should be content and stop questioning myself, hunh? this is the real me. man this is wild.

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sun, rise

thinking of him as I watch the sunrise through my window

sipping my coffee

knowing that in 6 short hours he'll be watching the same sun rise

sipping his tea

and thinking of me

looking forward to our first shared sunrise

every morning

I am one morning closer to my sweet heart

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things

things I love: 30s and 40s cinema, 80s hip-hop, 90s r&b, sam cooke, malcolm x, jazz music, soul, men with dreads, mama's boys, shoes, katherine hepburn, james 'jimmy' stewart, green, fashion-esp 30s (which people think is the one undefineable decade. HA!), eating food that tastes good, doing person-specific things for the people I love, philosophy, intelligent conversation, a good cry, my family, teaching, children, knowing that I've been a blessing to someone and that I will bless many more yet (God willing), words, good blogs, poetry, art, photography, incense, the color turquoise, genuine friendship, house m.d., laughter, my sweetheart's backyard, atlanta's magnolias, lilies, philly cheesesteak, pina coladas, the sound of any saxaphone I've ever heard, the snow, caramel, lengerie, tigger, disney's beauty and the beast, strawberry milkshakes, my grandma lee's subtle yet potent afro-centricity, christmas music, smiling or laughing to myself over a good memory, pockets, love

things I like: cooking, singing, reading, listening to french radio stations while drinking coffee, being in paris, being reluctant to meet new people or try new things and then discovering those new persons or things are quite wonderful, youtube, getting dressed, skype, being annoyed by my sister, the way my grandma brook's emails can almost bring me to tears even though all they say is I'm praying for you and I miss you, soft rain, doing new cultural things (art shows, museums, speeches...), limeade

things I don't like: PMSing, bad dreams, being away for too long, the feeling of "I should have...", insencerity, disrespect, bad mouth children, being hot, not being able to explain my emotions, boredom, having my time wasted

things I hate: poor logic offered as fact, intentional hurt, abuse, neglect, isms, hate

things I miss: being told I will only fall asleep, falling asleep, and then being reprimanded for falling asleep on movies during sleepovers with the sibs, my bed, mom's cooking, going to forever 21 w|stephanie not to shop but to comment on the way the store looks, atlanta, being held by him while watching movies on his mac, my cousin david, visiting my dad's house- I want to see the new place, twitter being up (lol)

things I want: house seasons 5 and 6, a fancy dinner with my family for my 21st birthday, to be the fantastic matriarch of my own family, to teach and build schools, old movie posters (the philadelphia story and it happened one night to name a couple), to have enough money to be able to give as much as my heart wants to, to design my own jewlry and maybe even clothes- not a line but literally my own just for me, snow on my birthday and/or christmas for the rest of my life, to take up sax (again) in grad school- and ancient greek, to have cool pictures taken of me

things I know: I want my house to smell like incense and organic oils and soaps, I love him, I will make a great professor one day and an even better mother, I realllly like atlanta, there is a God, love is real, I am loved, I've left out plenty, it would be really cool to have one wall in the house on which everybody could just create whenever they got the urge, I like me

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What Women Want

I guess the following is in response to this neverending conversation about Black women who will never marry cus 1)[Black] men aren't good enough 2)Black women are too picky

What Women Want
I want to love
and be loved in return
I want to be in love
unquestioningly
confidently
dangerously
fearlessly
and without shame

Be he Black or be he blue
I want to love
Be he lawyer, teacher, or starving ar-teest
I want to love
Be he rich or need he more
I want to love
Protestant or searching like me
I want to love

I like to dance
I'd like someone to dance with
I want to love
I like to think
Philosophize on the big and small and whether you can even qualify such things
I'd like someone to share my thoughts with
I want to love

A list of requirements will do nothing for my heart
A man who's discription reads well in an email to ma and pops may or may not move my spirit each sight of him
I want to love

I envy the women who are so certain of he for whom they are searching
How relieving it must be to be able to look at a man [or his credentials] and know right away he is not the one for you
What time that must save!

If only I could pinpoint each factor needed to create a|new love
Alas, I cannot
All I know is that I want to love

don't misunderstand me I don't think there is anything wrong with having standards. and I'm not saying this simply wanting to love is the right way to go about it for everyone. I just think lists can be dangerous..esp as they grow. of course I reach this conclusion through the lens of my own paradigm. I used to be an over-planner. I knew how things should go very well in advance. others called me a perfectionist (some still do). but plans can fall through. especially plans that have no real base. or one that is based on too many "ifs". so I changed up my way of life. while I still think of the future I try not to determine it before it gets here, rather I prepare for it as it approaches. what's at the core of my desire to be a future wife and mother, then: love. height, skin tone, and musical preferences cannot possibly deter me from falling in love with someone let alone cause me to deny that love as an act of stubborness.

I digress.

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