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

Read more »

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.

Read more »

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.

Read more »

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

Read more »