Brain Patterns

Your Brain's Pattern

Structured and organized, you have a knack for thinking clearly. You are very logical - and you don't let your thoughts get polluted with emotions. And while your thoughts are pretty serious, they're anything from boring. It's minds like yours that have built the great cities of the world!

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

I Can't Hear You!!!!

Why is it that, when people know you are in a club or some other loud environment, they insist on callin you anyway? Isn't that one of the beautiful and splendid things about text messaging? But, of course, I forget about all that as well and actually pick up the call amid blaring music and thumping bass while right in the middle of my little shimmy, rather than forcing the person so desperately trying to contact me and join me in my world to text me his/her/their location. I will not be so forgetful next time. Thanks, Jen, for taking this candid of me screaming into my phone!

Nina

For those who appreciate jazz, You know that Nina Simone was a force and category all her own. For those who haven't heard her dynamic voice and compelling lyrics, I highy suggest you do a little audio research. I probably have at least one version of every song she ever released, along with live one-night-only performances. She is a sort of hero of mine and she deserves recognition from the newer generations. Never forget the pioneers, never forget those who came before us so that we might progress. Nina, you are loved, adored and respected. You are eternally among us and your voice breathes life still.

Check out Nina Simone in all her glory.





What a woman!

Derek

Loking into the archives of poetry I've written, my friend has written, and poetry we've shared from luminaries whose words touch us, I found this little gem from Derek Walcott, a poetry master.

The Fist

The fist clenched round my heart
loosens a little, and I gasp
brightness; but it tightens
again. When have I ever not loved
the pain of love? But this has moved

past love to mania. This has the strong
clench of the madman, this is
gripping the ledge of unreason, before
plunging howling in the abyss.

Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.

How did this make you feel?

A Great Feat Indeed

We all have certian goals we leave unsaid. Here, not in so many words, is one I hold dear.

Haiku #21

A great feat to write;
even greater to live and
write to tell it all.

Lucky Day

I woke up this morning feeling like absolute and utter crap. I've been on a rollercoaster of emotions this week and it has left me exhausted. The silver lining is that I've reconnected with a person who is extremely dear to me. Each morning, or anytime I've felt myself falling into a slump these past few days, this friend has completely turned my day around and made it lovely, regardless of the distance that is separating us right now (thank goodness for text messaging and email!).

I've been doing mental cartwheels through fields of gold because of you and thought I'd let you know, even though I think you know that already. I dedicate this to you (I know it's corny and sounds silly cuz I'm bad at rhyming poetry, but it's the thought that counts--I hope!)

Lucky Day

Looked at the sky, it was crystalline blue,
with pink cotton clouds that looked so sweet.
A stray black cat crossed over my feet,
but when I looked up I saw you.

Went to the mall and there was a sale;
I almost bought the whole rack.
When I got outside I stepped on a crack,
so I called my mom who laughed with unruffled sails.

A stranger bought me some lovely flowers.
I picked each of its petals for fun.
“Loves me not,” they said; you smiled like the sun.
That night, we star gazed and held each other for hours.

Before bed I looked in the mirror;
It shattered and my face turned bland.
But you entered the scene and took my hand;
now I see myself much clearer.

©2005 Vicky Therese Davis

Hope you like it and that it conveys what I feel. Thanks for being in my life.

A late comemmoration of Mommy as a late Mommy's Day celebration. The both of us in Bangkok 1994

A Little Ditty

This was sent to me from a poetry magazine that is interested in publishing a piece of mine. I thought it was thought provoking and cute.

Triolet on a Line Apocryphally Attributed to Martin Luther
A.E. Stallings

Why should the Devil get all the good tunes,
The booze and the neon and Saturday night,
The swaying in darkness, the lovers like spoons?
Why should the Devil get all the good tunes?
Does he hum them to while away sad afternoons
And the long, lonesome Sundays? Or sing them for spite?
Why should the Devil get all the good tunes,
The booze and the neon and Saturday night?


Do you believe in the Devil...?

New Shoe Is a Racial Misstep

A a lover of gym shoes both common and rare, and as avid follower of race relations, I found the following article of great interest, seeing as how both are discussed on this rare occasion. Thanks for this one, Miykie!

New Shoe is a Racial Misstep

By Jabari Asim
Monday, April 17, 2006; 12:01 AM

WASHINGTON -- During the 1980s, in the black neighborhood where I spent much of my time, a pair of rumors became as familiar as Jheri curls and that hideous red jacket Michael Jackson wore in his "Beat It" video. Both tales involved a couple of clothing lines that included sneakers among their products. One brand was said to have a logo that served as an acronym for "to rule over oppressed people." The other was widely believed to conceal a racial slur in the insole of each shoe. Both clothing lines have faded from prominence, and since the rumors were untrue, I won't name the manufacturers here.

I mention them merely to show that minority groups have occasionally voiced suspicions that clothes, sneakers and other commercial products can function as agents of racism. Asian-Americans expressed such sentiments in 2002, when Abercrombie & Fitch stocked their shelves with T-shirts bearing contemptible images of Asians and such infuriating slogans as "Wong Brothers Laundry Service -- Two Wongs Can Make It White."

A year later, the Urban Outfitters chain ticked off African-Americans by selling Ghettopoly, a racist board game created by David Chang.

Several readers wrote to me at that time, asking if I would have opposed the game if it had been created by an African-American. I responded that I would, and that I was just as disgusted by equally brainless products introduced by blacks, such as Pimp Juice, the brainchild of the rap star Nelly, and Rilniga jeans, sold by a black-owned company in Cincinnati.

I am no less disturbed by a new sneaker that Adidas has introduced as a limited-edition product in its "Yellow Series." A black shoe adorned by three gold stripes, its tongue is festooned with the face of a cartoon character with buck teeth and slanted eyes. Nearly as over-the-top as the Cleveland Indians' grinning logo, the image is lurid and confrontational. According to news reports and Internet chatter, the face on the $250 shoes has upset some Asian-Americans. Other Asian-Americans, however, have defended the footwear. The mixed response can be traced in part to the racial identity of the man who designed the shoe: Barry McGee, a San Francisco-based artist, happens to be half-Chinese. He says the image is based on his own appearance as a child.

Conventional wisdom suggests that some group behavior -- and other alleged characteristics, such as facial features -- can only be ridiculed from within the group. Therefore, a joke told by Dave Chappelle may be considered brilliant, while the same joke told by David Letterman would be deemed offensive. In a similar vein, African-Americans often seem reluctant to criticize racist language used by black performers, citing their ironic intent and attempts -- however feeble -- to remove the power from such words.

The irony is often lost on many blacks when others invoke similar arguments. David Chang tried to defend his Ghettopoly game in such terms. "I'm not trying to single a race out," he explained. "The whole point of me doing this is not so much stereotyping people, it's poking fun at stereotyping. It's meant to be satirical." Some of the same African-Americans who timidly tolerate black performers' obnoxious lyrics roundly denounced Chang's rationalizations. No doubt Asian-Americans confront similar dilemmas when they encounter creations like McGee's.

In a statement issued by Adidas, McGee said he never thought the image was racist and that he is "sorry to those people who perceive it that way. All I remember is having Stan Smith's face on my Adidas when I was young, and was elated to put a caricature of myself on a shoe when presented the opportunity this year." His motives may indeed be pure, although his defense of them is somewhat shaky. Unlike McGee's provocative design, the tennis champion's screen-printed visage on his namesake shoes couldn't possibly be described as satirical or stereotypical.

Nor did Smith's portrait carry as much potential to harm. Images such as McGee's are complicated by the wider, whiter world and its population, whose knowledge of racial minorities often remains inexplicably limited. Perhaps Adidas' puzzling decision to market the shoe -- and even more puzzling, to include it in its "Yellow Series" -- derives from its own circumscribed intelligence. Or perhaps the company was focused so intensely on profit that it was blind to everything but green.

2006 Washingtonpost. Newsweek Interactive

Quote

My quote for the past month or two is really plain, simple, and quite narcissitic. It makes me laugh every time I think about and puts a little swagger in my step. Although many people (including me) have said it, thought it, and/or lived believing it, I read it in What Remains: A Memoir of Fate, Friendship, and Love, by Carole Radziwill.

"Remember, it's all about me." - Carolyn Bissett Kennedy

Nothing wrong wit being a little self-absorbed every once in a while...right?

Trace Your Roots

Trace Your Roots to Africa and Go There for Free or on a Shoestring Budget


A friend of mine sent this to me the other day, and it made me want to search for my African roots. A girlfriend of mine did this for her father as a Christmas present last year and I thought it was a great idea.


Ewing, NJ - April 2006 -- As concerns over the downturn spiral of the economy continues to grow nationwide, many people are trying to find innovative ways of cutting costs without cutting corners. Out of this need, emerges the Roots Recovered Website (www.rootsrecovered.com), the only site on the Internet devoted to African Heritage Travel. Everything you need for African DNA Tracing, Genealogy and African Heritage Travel is at this website. It is devoted to helping Africans in the Diaspora find their way back to Africa.The author, James White, of “Roots Recovered” was very pleased with the airing of the brilliant PBS documentary “African American Lives” by Harvard scholar Henry Louis Gates. White said while he was very pleased with the show he wants the opportunity to explore one’s African heritage to be accessible to the “not so rich and famous”. He said, “the website and book makes African travel and using DNA to trace your roots accessible to the working person.” “Oprah Winfrey, Chris Tucker and Whoopi Goldberg have the wealth and resources to easily explore their African roots.” The website and the book helps the everyday not so rich and famous do what they did on the documentary on a shoestring budget.”


White said the book and website are intended to educate the reader about Africa; to dispel misconceptions about the continent; and to encourage the people to think critically about his or her perception of self in relation to Africa. It also demystifies African travel to encourage people to travel there to experience Africa for himself or herself. “Roots Recovered” contains information that ranges from African history, psychology, obtaining passports and visas to very specific country information. “However, unlike other African travel books or travel websites, the purpose of ‘Roots Recovered’ is to use African travel as a vehicle to open the door for understanding our psychology, history and to develop a positive Black self-concept for future growth,” said White, who holds a bachelor’s degree from Howard University and a law degree from New York Law School.White, who is married to a Senegalese woman, has used DNA technology and traced his roots to the Mende people of Sierra Leone and the Fulani people of Guinea. He is an African art enthusiast and has a penchant and knowledge of African history and culture and regularly travels there. He was inspired to write the book after a trip to Africa in 2003.The book, which was published in January 2004, has been featured by some prominent critics; and has been enthusiastically received by such people as Tavis Smiley on National Public Radio; The Africa meets Africa radio broadcast on Pacifica Radio with Angelique Shofar and CN-8 News plus numerous radio interviews and lectures. The author most recently appeared in Columbus Ohio with Dr. Rick Kittles of African Ancestry at an event sponsored by the Young Professionals Association of the Columbus Urban League.“This book, ‘Roots Recovered’ is the guide for anyone of African descent who wants to travel to Africa,” White added. “I’ll eliminate all your excuses for not going back to the Motherland.”To learn more about Roots Recovered, visit the author's website at www.rootsrecovered.com ()The book can also be purchased at the author's website or at www.barnesandnoble.com, www.cushcity.com, www.amazon.com, or ordered directly from the publisher at www.booklocker.com. It also can be ordered at any bookstore.

CONTACT: James WhiteADROIT DIVERSIFIEDEmail: rootsrecovered@aol.com (mailto:rootsrecovered@aol.com)Website: www.rootsrecovered.comTelephone: 609-638-5383

Sucked into the Matrix Even Further...

I hate to say it, but I officially have given into the Matrix yet again: I set up a myspace page. Trust me, I'm not proud. So deep am I already that I forgot I had a blog! Pathetic, I know, but it won't consume me like that anymore. I will post something more substantial after I detox.

In the meantime, check out my myspace page here.

I'm getting better at putting stuff on it.

To Do List

We all have goals, whether they be secret or well known to others, that we want to accomplish before we kick the bucket. It helps to verbalize them or write them down in a visible place, so that you won't keep pushing them to the back of your mind while dealing with the banality of everyday living. Or, you can go to this cool new website 43things.com and post them there and/or read zillions of other people's wishes. Some are so interesting that I realize I need to revise mine and think even broader than I thought I [already] was. It's easy to forget that when you really want to do something, it can and will be done, no matter how long it takes you to accomplish it all.

Here are just a few of the things on my list (not in any particular order):

1. Climb/Visit every pyramid in the world (almost finished with this one)
2. Raise competent children
3. Finish writing my book (1/4 of the way completed)
4. Actually publish it
5. Love what I see in the mirror, no matter what's staring me back in the face
6. Make more money
7. Learn to speak at least 2 languages fluently
8. Finish reading all the "must read" books on my list
9. Physically volunteer in Africa in any way I can; Lord knows that continent needs all the help we can afford to give it.
10. Like my poetry, no matter how corny it seems to me (and maybe get it published, too!).

The list, of course, goes on. The originator of this blog-style site says that 43 is a reasonable, doable number, so I don't feel so bad about having an uberlong list. And as I grow, change, and hopefully, accomplish some of them, my list will change and be more refined, as will yours. Happy goal-setting!

Healthy Insanity

My girlfriend sent me this too-funny email that I just had to post here. It actually had me laughing out loud, and I usually don't even read mass emails. This one had me going, though. (We already know I like corny jokes, mind you...!)


Ways To Maintain a Healthy Level Of Insanity

1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.
2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.
3. Every time people ask you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.
4. Put your trash can on your desk and label it "In."
5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
6. In the memo field of all your checks, write "For Sexual Favors"
7 Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy."
8. Dont use any punctuation
9. As Often as possible, skip rather than walk.
10. Order a diet water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.
11. Specify that your drive-through order is "To Go"...several times
12. Sing along at the opera
13. Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme
14. Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds all day.
15. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you're not in the mood.
16. Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name ... Rock Bottom.
17. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I won!, I won!"
18. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot, yelling, "Run for your lives! They're loose!!"
19. Tell your children over dinner: "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."


I know, it's corny and you all have probably gotten this and deleted from your mail--as you should have!

Spring Cleaning

Today I'm going to share a little something not for those that are weak of heart: I just started a 3 month colon cleanse! Talk about cleaning the pipes!!! I am just so excited and scared about what's going to happen that I couldn't contain it and had to document this day in history. An extremely good friend of mine recommended it and has already been taking it for a couple of weeks, which is what kept me from being too hesitant about taking it myself. I also enlisted a crazy girlfriend of mine to experience this bliss with me and she is starting it today also. Don't worry, you won't see any crazy pictures or anything--I won't be taking you that deep into the process. However, if you would like to take the plunge with me (and see pictures that will change your life), just go to the Dr. Natura website and see everything for yourself. I dare you...

Interesting Tidbit

I remember my teacher in Speech class always telling us not to use our hands so much, that making hand gestures while talking was ineffective and distracting. I agree, to a certain extent; sometimes a gesture or two is OK when something needs to be further emphasized. Moving hands for no reason (nervous hand movements because you don't know what to do with yourself when you're talking) is just like white noise. Then, just recently, while flipping through a magazine, I found an interesting little bit of information:

*Gesturing as you speak may actually boost your communication skills. In a University of Alberta study in which people were asked to watch a cartoon and then describe it, those who used their hands to help express themselves recalled more than those who didn't. Notes lead study researcher Elena Nicoladis, Ph.D., "Gesturing can help you find the words you need."


So now I guess I can be a little less annoyed with people who use their hands all the time when talking...



*Research reported by Kimberly Tranell in October 2005 Glamour Magazine -- I told you I read gloss!

Viva Las Vegas!

On my way to Vegas to gamble on the religious holiday! Before I left, I just wantedto impart my thanks to all of the people who support this blog by posting comments, emailing, and calling me. I haven't had such interesting conversations since I started this thing. I appreciate the time taken to read this silly little blog-- it makes me feel like this isn't a waste of time.

I love you, all my fans!!!

(OK, I'm done acting like I'm famous...watch out, though, I'll be famous before you know it...!)

The Scent...

Since I've been getting some good feedback from the previous post on racism and its resurgence, I thought I'd follow up with a controversial poem I wrote last year after reading Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marques, last year. This poem sparked great conversation with several associates of mine and continues to whenever someone asks me to read it. So let's keep the wheels turning and the discourse flowing!

And before people start persecuting me, remember: this was inspired by a story. It's not my personal opinion!!!

Scent of a Black Woman

She thought she knew him so well.
Having shared a life, nothing could be left out…
She thought.

I know his favorite foods, cook them
just right and even know when
they are craved. I know his taste in women:
No Black, no Yellow, no Red, no Brown:
strictly Porcelain.
He would never entertain thoughts so sacrilege,
so entirely impure.
I speak his thoughts before he can
think them himself;
I am his conscience.
I know his scent and what he’s done
when I smell his clothes before I clean them.
I know everything.

What is this smell emanating from his pants?
This scent with which his shirt is infused?
It comes not from him or any routine activity.
Never have I smelled it;
surely there is no need for alarm…
Things will be normal again on the morrow.

Now she smells this foreign scent everyday.
Routine, indeed!
It has been months, yet the scent remains unaddressed.
What can it be? She casually sets his clothes
in a heap before him and makes not a sound.
He looks up from his paper and begins to cry.
Almost relieved, he repents his affaire d’amour.
She stares through him with eyes of blue ice.
She’s forgiven him many transgressions,
one night stands and more, but he knows she will never
forgive him for bringing this evil into their home:
the scent of a Black woman.

©2005 Vicky T. Davis

The Rebound of Racism

I came across an interesting article last week about racism and whether or not it ever went away (on iZania.com). I thought immediately that it was a truly silly question. Of course racism never went away; it got swept under the rug like so many other controversial issues that lack remedies. If anything, racism has gotten progressively worse and one has to be blind or oblivious to not recognize it when it sits perched on our shoulders everyday.

I have yet to do background research on the author of the following piece, but I thought I'd post his article anyway just to get some responses on this topic. So, here goes; let me know what you think! (Any grammatical errors in this piece are not mine, although I did a little cleaning... :) Also, not all of his views are necessarily mine. Keep that in mind; I only want to start discussion and raise awareness. This is not an issue that is going away any time soon.)

Race Dialogue Is Back, But. . . Did Racism Go Away?

America is talking about race again. With Crash winning the Oscar and Ice Cube co-producing a series on race called Black/White on FX, race dialogue is back! But did racism ever go away? Or did it just change forms and go underground? It has been well documented over the past five years (since the turn of the century) that the racial disparities of the last half of the 20th Century are still very much in evidence today. In some instances, they are greater than they were 40 or 50 years ago. These studies, that come from everywhere -- major universities to private research institutions to civil rights -- all said the same thing: that race is still very prevalent in American society, whether we talk about it or not. So, since race differences never went away, can we also assume that racism never went away? Of course, we can. Thus the need for a renewed race dialogue.

America is not colorblind. It’s so blinded by color that it just can’t see racism. Like looking into sun with Ray-Bans, the glare doesn’t make that object in front of you disappear. You will still run into it if you don’t make an adjustment in your vision. America never made the adjustment. That’s what the movie, Crash, is about . . . our refusal to acknowledge race until it confronts us.

Race dialogue took a decade long hiatus (since President Bill Clinton’s attempt to raise a national dialogue on race almost ten years ago) as America came up with race “fatigue” after the Soon Ja Du, Rodney King, and O.J. Simpson racial episodes of the early 1990s. Of course, Clinton’s efforts were an attempt to bring forth what some called the “Third Reconstruction,” to address the racial disparities left over from the unfinished work of the 1960’s war on poverty that was interrupted during the Nixon, Ford, and Reagan administrations. By the time the Reagan Revolution had come along, Reagan declared that poverty had won, and it was time to end “race policies.” By the time George Herbert Walker Bush came into office, America had developed colorblindness, public policy initiatives were “race neutral,” and any discussion about race, race differences, and most critically, racism, were now persona non grata in social circles and viewed as politically incorrect in the public domain. Nobody wanted to talk about race anymore, and opinion leaders went through great lengths to convince us that race no longer mattered. Foolish proclamations were made by a new phenomena, the Black Conservative—a new type of Negro that was used to deflect any discussion on race and racism. One such fool, Larry Elder, went on national television (20/20) and said, “There is no racism in America.” When I want comic relief, I don’t put on Steve Harvey, or Cedric The Entertainer, or D.L. Hugely. I put in that tape of 20/20.
. . . Colorblindness was a ploy that refused to acknowledge race, but racism is as plain as it’s ever been. Thanks to the arts, we again smell the stench of racism. Now it’s time to take out the trash.

Anthony Asadullah Samad is a national columnist, managing director of the Urban Issues Forum and author of 50 Years After Brown: The State of Black Equality In America (Kabili Press, 2005). He can be reached at www.AnthonySamad.com

I will be happy to discuss this with anyone over email, phone or on this comment board. Happy thinking!

Cornball

For some stupid reason, this one joke never fails to make me laugh. My girlfriend sent it to me in a mass email ages ago, and somehow it just stuck with me. I hardly ever read mass emails! I was reminded of the following joke in a conversation having to do with what a stickler I am for grammar and pronunciation. Enjoy the most cornball joke ever!!!

Two dogs are sitting in a bar: one is an English sheepdog and the other is a Mexican Chihuahua. They’re having a drink when a gorgeous Collie walks in. The two dogs turn back to each other and continue drinking. Knowing they don’t have a chance with her, they resume conversation with the bartender. The bartender says, “I know her and I can probably score a date with her for one you guys.”

“Oh yeah?” they say.
“Yeah,” says the bartender. “But she likes a clever dog, one who can hold her interest. Tell ya what. Whoever can use these two words most creatively in a sentence gets a chance.”
“What are the words?” the sheepdog asks, tongue out.
“Liver and cheese,” the bartender replies.

The two dogs contemplate for a moment, and then the English sheepdog says, “I like liver and cheese.”
“No dice,” the bartended decides and looks at the Chihuahua.
The Mexican Chihuahua then says, “Liver alone, cheese mine.”

Hilarious!!!! Gets me every time.

Cherchez la Femme

I haven't written any poetry in a while and was looking at some of my abandoned works. I came across this one piece that a friend of mine told me I should post for womankind. This is for you, friend.

Cherchez la Femme

Hiding in the sinews of repressed emotions,
ducking from the pain they bring her,
she blends into the jungle, chameleon-like,
to protect herself from Lust’s bullets and
Ego’s derogatory arrows.

Under the guise of inflated machismo
is the only way she knows how to advance,
to surpass Life’s glass ceiling.
How else can she survive in a sex-crazed world
without numbing her mind to the
prostitution of her womanhood?
Pretending so long to be impassive,
apathetic to her own situation that is being
a woman,
like a pocketbook left on a bus seat,
she has forgotten her Femininity.

How can a woman, one of Creation’s most
complex and powerful beings,
disregard such an innate treasure?
Hmmm…

If man is defined as a human being and
woman simply as female, and whenever she
“behaves” as a human,
she is said to be emulating the male
(as writ by him),
then this male society that has made her
feel inferior from the first dawn has
caused the female to suppress aspects of her
Femininity in all its splendor, making her an
endangered species like the elephant
stripped of its tusks

Neither can survive.

©2005 Vicky Therese Davis

Clash of the Civilizations

A good friend of my mine sent me a link for the televised interview of a very brave and intelligent Arab woman. She spoke at length on the topic of a "primitive" Muslim culture clashing with encroaching westernization. Everyone can stand to watch her interview. I have a lot of respect for this woman. To come out on public tv in the middle east where her beliefs could do her harm in some circles, this woman has balls!


http://www.switch5.castup.net/frames/20041020_memritv_popup/video_480x360.asp?ai=214&ar=1050wmv&ak=null

Solipsism

While reading my latest literary conquest, The Catastrophist, by Ronan Bennett, I came across a passage that struck me as quite an interesting insight and one that pertained to me and the way I read novels.

"...I stayed in my room and read novels. With one eye I watched the characters rise from the page, with the other I watched my own life. It sounds solipsistic, but reading about imaginary others made me intensely curious about my real self. Before then I had sent few queries in my own direction*. Once I started reading I entered a period of introspection and self-examination; fiction referred to me questions I had not even known how to formulate. It was like being forced to stand naked in front of the mirror in a harsh and unflattering light."

*This one sentence does not pertain to me, as I often question myself and my motives.

I always find it refreshing to find a passage that so eloquently puts in words what I feel and am unable to properly express to others. It has also come across my mind whether or not others read in this fashion, comparing themselves to characters and posing the questions the author has seemingly tried to answer him- or herself. As a very wise woman once said to me (and she knows who she is), "It's easier to look out the window than it is to look in the mirror." This is what books and their authors help me to do: look in the mirror and face the facts about myself, the good and ugly.

The character who wrote this passage is a writer, and he delves into this topic even further:

"I did not like the reflection cast back at me. I saw vanity, arrogance, self-importance, cowardice, I saw the meanness of my own motives. I started writing, I think, because I saw in words a way to cover myself up. In fairness, I did not try to use writing as reinvention, or as an advertisement, a sign behind which I could hide and say I was better than I was. Instead I rendered everything as a kind of sly joke, including the characters in which I breathed. That way I was only one more joke among many, my failings were invisible..."

As a writer, I found this admission so endearing, so brave, that the author of those words has looked that deep inside himself to understand and reveal his intentions, no matter how bad it might sound to the reader. To know oneself so fully is truly a blessing, one that is extremely hard to pull out from the layers of false pretenses we use to fool others.

I have asked the question to myself and other writers: Why do you write? I wonder if any of them know the true reason, and if they do, are they willing to admit it to themselves. I know the reason I write; I just don't know if I'm as brave as Ronan Bennett to admit it to other people!

Mannie, Minor, and Me

This past weekend my dad and uncle celebrated their 50th birthdays (they're twins). I went to Chicago to partake in the festivities and had a lovely time. More importantly though, was the epiphany I had while listening to my uncle share something personal about himself to the family and friends that were present: I am my father and uncle rolled up in one person. My uncle Minor expressed that with twins, there is always a strong one and a weaker one; a more confident one and one who has more insecurities; one twin who feels more emotion than the other. I am not denying or forgetting that half of my genes come from my wonderful mother -- I can always recognize the traits I have inherited from her quite clearly. As I was listening to my uncle bear his soul, I couldn't help but look within myself to see the very same things in me that were in him.

I was able, over the course of the weekend, to dissect aspects of my personality to see where they came from. I am not an exact reproduction of anyone, in the same way my dad and uncle, although identical in physical characteristics, aren't replicas of each other. The more time I spend with my uncle, the more I see myself in his body language, his thought patterns, the issues that concern him, and I am able to understand him more, as well as my father. The older I get, the older and the more settled in their ways the twins get, I can appreciate them and love them all the more, and in turn, understand and love myself and all the raging contradictions that make me who I am.

In a way, this was a birth day for me, too...

On to the New

Let us remember...that in the end we go to poetry for one reason, so that we might more fully inhabit our lives and the world in which we live them, and that if we more fully inhabit these things, we might be less apt to destroy them.

-Christian Wiman
Editor, Poetry Magazine

Being Proactive II

Women: Protect yourselves from AIDS. HIV-positive men who don't wear condoms is a growing lethal danger to us. What is the best possible protection from this? Besides refusing to have sex without a condom, there is a gel containing microbicides; applied by women pre-sex, it could guard against HIV infection. There is one problem, though: It doesn't exist yet. Appoximately 20 such products are in development, and experts and scitentist project that they would help prevent 6 million HIV infections within three years of their release. They will never materialize, however, without more funding. Encourage legistaors to help pass the Microbicide Development Act (Senate bill No. 550, House bill No. 3854) and let's get something done to stop this epidemic which is killing us at a faster and more alarming rate.

(information provided in December 2005 Glamour Magazine)

Oh, Amy!

This past Saturday I went to the annual Miami Book Fair and listened to one of my favorite authors, Amy Tan, speak on writing, storytelling, and what is like to be a writer. Most of her talk was familiar to me after having read "The Opposite of Fate," my favorite book written by her to date. Although she was supposed to be promoting her new novel, "Saving Fish From Drowning," she decided to "wing it" and talk about how her mother became her muse. So much can be learned from their relationship with each other, thus from reading anything written by this magnificent force. Amy Tan truly is an inspiration. I encourage all avid readers and lovers of good English to try on one of her books. I think you'll like the fit.

I'm off to NY for Turkey Day. Let's give thanks to the pilgrims for killing the Native Americans and stealing their land by indulging in the feast the "Indians" taught them to make.

What a holiday.

Being Proactive

After having been affected by Wilma, I now truly understand and can appreciate the plight victims have (and still are) gone/going through. It is doubly hard for women and those with dependents to survive, much less rebuild. As a community, we need to get funds directly to those who are in most need. A great way of doing this on an individual level is to write or email letters to urge your local representatives to provide job training, extended welfare benefits, and funding, so men and women can reconstruct their homes, businesses and start moving forward from the wreckage their lives have become. Let's all lend a hand to help those in the south that were affected by Katrina, Rita and Wilma make even better lives for themselves than the ones they were forced from.

Property Value

I know the value of this site is going down, but only because I'm taking a real estate class that's got my head filled with computations and definitions I haev no hope of memorizing for the exam. Bear with me, folks, the property value will increase on my blog in the near future. No need to unload the investment it takes to type in the address to my blog. More new and thought-provoking essays will arrive shortly.

World Champions!

For all of those who said it couldn't be done: In your face!!! The Chicago White Sox are number 1! I can't wait to go back to the Chi and get some Sox gear!

We actually did it. How you like that Cub fans..?

Go White Sox!

That's all I have to say about that!

Go 'Head! It's Your Birthday!

Yes it is! This is my birthday weekend and I have already started the celebrations. You might not be hearing from me for a couple of days, so I will leave you with this silly little poem that I wrote:

Yagé (Celebration of Self)

I blanket myself in the comfort of knowing
I am.

I am anything and everything I choose:
strong, sexy, simple, and sweet,
caring, cruel, charismatic, and complex,
all at the same time.
Whether mean, moronic, maniacal, or moody,
loving, lucid, laid-back, or light-of-heart,
I am beautiful in all my passions.

I am Me and it’s a beautiful thing!

Unconquerable, though they try.
I am the Sphinx, reveling and dancing
in the splendor of their awe.
Confident? Sure, but still humble.
I cherish every deep breath.
I know my place in this world,
I just happen to love where I stand
because no matter how everyone views me,
I know how I see myself;
that’s the most important thing.

I matter.

Don’t hate that I celebrate my birthday everyday.
If I won’t, who will? Only I can provide myself with
true happiness.
I’m tired of writing love poems about other people.
It’s time to write a love poem to myself and
celebrate who I have become, who
I am.

Yeah, it’s hard being me, but I love every minute!

©2005 Vicky Therese Davis

See ya when I'm a year older!

As Told by My Grandmother

The other day a stranger complimented me on my hands and told me they were very pretty. It made me look at my them in greater detail later on that night. I thought of a time when I was sitting with my grandmother at her little round kitchen table -- where all the family congregates at any time of day or night -- looking at old pictures. She was handing me an old sepia photograph of her when she was in her early twenties; she was absolutely beautiful. My grandmother studied the picture as if looking at it for the first time as well, then she remarked at how much we favored each other. As I took the photo from her to see for myself, our hands touched, and for the first time we both realized that we had the same hands; hers were just older and more worn (as I'm sure mine will be). She was looking at her past and I my future. We both looked at each other and laughed so hard we cried. That was five years ago, but boy does it feel so recent.

This memory compelled me to look through some of my old things and I came across some short stories my grandmother wrote. My dad copied them for me after she passed away last year. It was her birthday last week, so I felt it only right to bring her back to the forefront of my and my family's minds to recount a story written in her hand, so much like mine, about her own grandmother. And to think we both shared a passion for writing, too!


"As Told by My Grandmother..." by Maurine Davis

My grandmother lived on a farm in Woodlawn, Tennesse. Her name was Addie Estella Morrow. She was about four feet and eight inches tall. A little dumpy lady with white hair that she wore in a bun. She was the mother of nine children. But only four were living by the time I came along.

She always had stories to tell us about the time she and my grandfather bought a three hundred acre farm from a German friend of theirs who didn't like his fellow neighbors and they didn't like him. So he sold his farm to a black man, my grandfather. He was the only black man in the area who owned such a property.

So one night the Klu Klux Klan Night Riders came riding up on their horses all dressed in their white hooded robes and asked him to come outside. He didn't respond at first however, but after many entreaties he opened the door wide and let his double-barreled shotgun respond to their request.

After that, the only sound heard was the resounding of horses hooves galloping away.


I guess spunk runs in the family too!!!

A Wise Man Once Said...

I really admire Cornel West's mind and always listen when he has something to say on topics that interest me (and more often than not, he is speaking about something that interests me). This recent acknowledgement he made on Hurricane Katrina was sent to me in an email and I feel compelled to share it with everyone:

“I'm not asking for a revolution, I am asking for reform. A Marshall Plan for the South could be the first step."


Exiles from a City and from a Nation

By Cornel West
The Observer UK
Sunday 11 September 2005

It takes something as big as Hurricane Katrina and the misery we saw among the poor black people of New Orleans to get America to focus on race and poverty. It happens about once every 30 or 40 years.

What we saw unfold in the days after the hurricane was the most naked manifestation of conservative social policy towards the poor, where the message for decades has been: 'You are on your own'. Well, they really were on their own for five days in that Superdome, and it was Darwinism in action - the survival of the fittest. People said: 'It looks like something out of the Third World.' Well, New Orleans was Third World long before the hurricane.

It's not just Katrina, it's povertina. People were quick to call them refugees because they looked as if they were from another country. They are. Exiles in America. Their humanity had been rendered invisible so they were never given high priority when the well-to-do got out and the helicopters came for the few. Almost everyone stuck on rooftops, in the shelters, and dying by the side of the road was poor black.

In the end George Bush has to take responsibility. When [the rapper] Kanye West said the President does not care about black people, he was right, although the effects of his policies are different from what goes on in his soul. You have to distinguish between a racist intent and the racist consequences of his policies. Bush is still a 'frat boy', making jokes and trying to please everyone while the Neanderthals behind him push him more to the right.

Poverty has increased for the last four or five years. A million more Americans became poor last year, even as the super-wealthy became much richer. So where is the trickle-down, the equality of opportunity? Healthcare and education and the social safety net being ripped away - and that flawed structure was nowhere more evident than in a place such as New Orleans, 68 per cent black. The average adult income in some parishes of the city is under $8,000 (£4,350) a year. The average national income is $33,000, though for African-Americans it is about $24,000. It has one of the highest city murder rates in the US. From slave ships to the Superdome was not that big a journey.

New Orleans has always been a city that lived on the edge. The white blues man himself, Tennessee Williams, had it down in A Streetcar Named Desire - with Elysian Fields and cemeteries and the quest for paradise. When you live so close to death, behind the levees, you live more intensely, sexually, gastronomically, psychologically. Louis Armstrong came out of that unbelievable cultural breakthrough unprecedented in the history of American civilization. The rural blues, the urban jazz. It is the tragic-comic lyricism that gives you the courage to get through the darkest storm.

Charlie Parker would have killed somebody if he had not blown his horn. The history of black people in America is one of unbelievable resilience in the face of crushing white supremacist powers.

This kind of dignity in your struggle cuts both ways, though, because it does not mobilize a collective uprising against the elites. That was the Black Panther movement. You probably need both. There would have been no Panthers without jazz. If I had been of Martin Luther King's generation I would never have gone to Harvard or Princeton.

They shot brother Martin dead like a dog in 1968 when the mobilization of the black poor was just getting started. At least one of his surviving legacies was the quadrupling in the size of the black middle class. But Oprah [Winfrey] the billionaire and the black judges and chief executives and movie stars do not mean equality, or even equality of opportunity yet. Black faces in high places does not mean racism is over. Condoleezza Rice has sold her soul.

Now the black bourgeoisie have an even heavier obligation to fight for the 33 per cent of black children living in poverty - and to alleviate the spiritual crisis of hopelessness among young black men.

Bush talks about God, but he has forgotten the point of prophetic Christianity is compassion and justice for those who have least. Hip-hop has the anger that comes out of post-industrial, free-market America, but it lacks the progressiveness that produces organizations that will threaten the status quo. There has not been a giant since King, someone prepared to die and create an insurgency where many are prepared to die to upset the corporate elite. The Democrats are spineless.

There is the danger of nihilism and in the Superdome around the fourth day, there it was - husbands held at gunpoint while their wives were raped, someone stomped to death, people throwing themselves off the mezzanine floor, dozens of bodies.

It was a war of all against all - 'you're on your own' - in the centre of the American empire. But now that the aid is pouring in, vital as it is, do not confuse charity with justice. I'm not asking for a revolution, I am asking for reform. A Marshall Plan for the South could be the first step.

--------
Dr Cornel West is professor of African American studies and religion at Princeton University. His great grandfather was a slave. He is a rap artist and appeared as Counselor West in Matrix Reloaded and Matrix Revolutions.
-------
Interview by Joanna Walters, in Princeton, New Jersey

I'm Back in Action!

This is the longest I have been away, and not by choice, either. Hurrican Katrina had her grip on my internet capabilities until late last week. I will not complain, however, because the devasation she left behind in the Gulf Coast is incomparable. My heart and thoughts go out to those who are suffering in that region. Having to begin new lives after such a disaster, I can't even imagine being in their shoes. But as the news reporters have been saying recently (prompted, surprisingly, by Rev. Al Sharpton), they are not refugees, they are survivors; they will find ways to start over.

I will say this, though: I am tired of seeing nothing but the depressing sights on TV of the mess Katrina left behind; I am tired of rising gas prices and the cost of living; I am tired of our leaders constantly letting us down, abandoning and neglecting us; I am tired of Kanye West's big mouth, and as a result, feel sorry for Mike Myers who had to play it cool when Kanye decided to spout off his personal opinions at the wrong time; I am tired of everything in this country being narrowed down to "race relations." I am "sick and tired of being sick and tired!"

What I do love seeing is how civilians in this country band together when our fellow citizens need our help. It was visible during 9/11 and it is apparent now. Lately, watching the rescue efforts is the only thing that warms me. The compassion that we suppress in daily life releases itself in abundance when tragedy strikes, and being able to actually see it in the faces and efforts that people are making is what makes me feel proud to be American.

For all of those in the Gulf Coast, we hear and see you. Even if our leaders abandoned you, we will not. You are in good hands now.

Dabbling...

I know, I've been slacking off again. Enough people have told me they're sick of coming to the site and not seeing any updates. For this, I apologize; I just get caught up in the every day-ness of things and it can't be helped sometimes (although I am more conscious of it).

Meanwhile, I've been dabbling in this poetry form that has recently caught my attention: tanka. It's of Japanese origin and consists of five lines. Each line has a different syllable pattern, much like haiku. I like to think of tanka poems as extented haiku because of the similar patterns. While haiku lines run in syllables of 5/7/5, tanka lines form the pattern 5/7/5/7/7. After reading up on this form of poetry, I've created a few of my own. And thanks to the help of my poetry mentor who goes by the moniker "A Total View," I am starting to get a pretty good feel for it. Here are a couple of my latest attempts (some I have already revised countless times). Let me know what you think!

#1: A Knight He is Not

Splayed across my bed
is a man not of my dreams.
He smells of stale sweat
and hoards my soiled bed sheets.
I wish I never met him.

#2: Uncharted Territory

Unfamiliar
hills, verdant climbs and valleys,
have led me off course.
Fighting my way through the green,
I am cut by blades of grass.

Here are my most recent ones, so consider this an unveiling of sorts:

#3: Fortune Teller

“Will you read my palm?”
“Sure I will. Open your hand
and put it face up.
Now ball it into a fist.
Destiny is in your hand.”

#4: The Aftermath

She reads from a book,
but can’t focus on the tale.
She attempts once more;
the words have lost all meaning.
She stops, looks outside, and cries.

I'm curious what the responses will be to these... ;)
Until next time--I promise I won't stay away so long!!

In Memorium

This past weekend was my family reunion. It was a very important one for us because my grandmother's death last year was quite tragic. She was such a lovely woman for all of us tolook up to; anyone who could say they knew her were touched by her. I wasn't able to attend this year's family reunion, although I wish this were not so, and I have decided to post the poem I wrote for her funeral. I still miss her dearly.

Goodbye: A Requiem

Only for a short while have you loaned us to each other.
Because we take form in your act of drawing us together,
We breathe in your songs to us and give them life for
The brief spans we are here. But only for so
Short a while have you loaned us to each other.
We must make the most of our times together.

Grandmother, I will miss you more than our language has
The vocabulary to help me articulate.
The only comfort I find in your absence is knowing
You are home where you belong.
I thank Him for blessing us with you, and the
Sacred memories that have been ingrained in me.

You will forever be loved, missed, and a nearby thought.
I will not, however, mourn your death,
But I will indeed, celebrate your life.

© 2004 by Vicky Therese Davis

This doesn't even begin to describe how I truly feel, but suffice it to say, she was very special to me, and I will carry all my memories of her with me till my death.

Minority Report

A few months ago someone told me that blacks could lose their right to vote. At first I didn't believe them until I researched it. In 1965 the 15th Amendment guaranteed us the right to vote, but it has been manipulated in subsections/acts. Surprise, surprise; nothing for minorities is ever so cut-and-dry, or should I insert the pun: “Nothing is ever so black and white.”

In section 5 of the 15th amendment there is something called the "Pre-clearance Act," which basically states that all voting districts have to be cleared by the Attorney General. The "Pre-clearance Act" is not a permanent addition to the Amendment, but it needs to be. In 1982 Ronald Regan gave it a 25 year extension. Now if we sit back and do the math, we have until 2007. We need to write our congressman and bring this issue into the open. This just doesn't affect blacks but all other minorities and poor communities. Look up the 15th Amendment on the internet and find information on this topic. I will put what I’ve found so far below. This issue is still a little sketchy to me, so I will continue to research this topic further to see how alarmed I need to be. We all need to stay informed, no matter what!

The 1982 Amendments
Congress decided in 1982 that Section 5 should be renewed for twenty-five years. Congress also adopted a new standard, which went into effect in 1985, providing how jurisdictions could terminate (or "bail out" from) coverage under the special provisions of Section 4. Furthermore, after extensive hearings, Congress decided that Section 2 should be amended to prohibit vote dilution, according to essentially the same objective factors employed in White v. Register, but without a requirement of proof of discriminatory purpose.

VOTING RIGHTS ACT OF 1965
Section 2:
A nationwide provision that prohibits the use of voting laws, practices or procedures that discriminate in either purpose or effect on the basis of race, color, or membership in a minority language group. All types of voting practices and procedures are covered by Section 2, including those relating to registration, voting, candidacy qualification, and types of election systems.

Section 4:
This portion sets forth the formula under which a political jurisdiction is "covered" by and, therefore, subject to the pre-clearance provisions of Section 5 of the Voting Rights Act.

Section 4 has various dates that trigger coverage. For example: if a jurisdiction used a "test or device" such as a literacy test as of November 1, 1964 and less than 50% of the age-eligible citizens were registered or voted in 1964, it became a covered jurisdiction. Section 4 further notes that if the jurisdiction provided English-Only voter registration/election materials, contained a registered voting age citizenry (or citizens actually voting) of less than 50%, and contained a single language minority group of greater than 5% of its citizens.

Covered jurisdictions include the entire States of Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina, Texas, and Virginia and counties and towns in California, Colorado, Connecticut, Florida, Hawaii, Idaho, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, New Hampshire, New York, North Carolina, South Dakota and Wyoming.

Section 5 was designed to prevent states and other government entities with a history of voting discrimination from continuing to devise new ways to discriminate after the abolishment of prior discriminatory practices. Section 5 requires certain covered jurisdictions to submit any proposed voting changes in their election law or practices, prior to implementation, for federal approval by either the Attorney General of the United States or the Federal District Court for the District of Columbia. Covered jurisdictions must demonstrate that the proposed voting changes do not have the purpose or the effect of discriminating against protected racial or language minorities. This process is referred to as the pre-clearance process.

Minority Language Groups: The minority language groups covered by the Voting Rights Act are Native Americans, Asian Americans, Alaska Natives, and persons of Spanish heritage.

Minority Language Provisions: The Voting Rights Act was amended in 1975 and 1992 to include political jurisdictions with language minority groups and requires such jurisdictions to furnish bi-lingual assistance to language minority citizens at all stages of the voting process and in all elections.

Beautiful Day

Ever since Hurricane Dennis swept through, the weather here has been glorious and so have people's moods. It seems like there is no "off season" in Miami anymore and, although it is quite hot, no one seems to care. I love it!

Beautiful Day
palm trees against a clear blue sky
the soundtrack of gently lapping ocean waves
sun-kissed skin cooling in an unhurried breeze
hibiscus flower from someone’s garden
tucked behind my ear
hair spread like a fan on my lawn chair
sinful libation wetting my insides
reading the last page of a good book
no concept of time

©2005 Vicky Therese Davis

Wouldn't it be wonderful if all our days could be like this...?

Cutting Funds

I am a big fan of NPR and PBS. So it upsets me to find out that the rumors that have been spreading around about the government cutting their funding, is true. I recently signed the petition to help stop this madness. Below is some information about the idiocy of cutting public funding and what you can do to help.

*******************************

You know that email petition that keeps circulating about how Congress is slashing funding for NPR and PBS? Well, now it's actually true.

Sign the petition telling Congress to save NPR and PBS:

The House of Representatives is about to vote on whether to slash funding for NPR and PBS, starting with "Sesame Street," "Reading Rainbow" and other commercial-free children's shows. If approved, this would be the most severe cut in the history of public broadcasting, threatening to pull the plug on Big Bird, Cookie Monster, and Oscar the Grouch.

The cuts would eliminate more than $200 million for NPR, PBS and local stations immediately, with more cuts likely in the future. The loss could kill beloved children's shows like "Clifford the Big Red Dog," "Arthur," and "Postcards from Buster." Rural stations and those serving low-income communities might not survive. Other stations would have to increase corporate sponsorships.

The House will vote on the cuts as soon as Tuesday. Can you help us reach 1 million signatures calling on Congress to save NPR and PBS?

www.moveon.org/publicbroadcasting/

Read the New York Times story on the threat to NPR and PBS at
www.moveon.org/r?r=753


I'm calling on anyone and everyone to PLEASE sign the petition and if you can, make sure this gets around!!!

Stale

In a bit of a melancholic mood today from all the bad weather that Hurrican Dennis is giving us. So I thought I'd post a little poem I wrote inspired by Nikki Giovanni a while back (since I still haven't finished my little memoir of my recent trip).

Stale

Looking at all these tired faces
That I’ve been seeing all these years
Makes my shoulders sink.

Going to this dead-end job
That I’ve been working all these years
Makes my head droop.

Making the same small talk
That I’ve been mindlessly gabbing all these years
Makes my back slump.

Living this inconsequential life
That I’ve been making for myself all these years
Makes my eyes tear.

Thinking about this banality
That I’ve allowed to settle
Gives my mouth a bad taste.

©2005 Vicky Therese Davis

Poetic Injustice

Greetings, everyone!

My apologies for staying away from the keyboard so long--I was traveling and seeing the world with my wonderful mother. I will post a little thing or two from my trip in upcoming entries. While I write them, though, I would like to bring something else to your attention: the injustices being brought upon people like Amir Sulaiman, an artist, poet, and activist, who try to enlighten and inspire us to action via their art about social issues that affect us all.

The New COINTELPRO
Def Poetry Jam Artist Under Fire

Since debuting on Def Poetry Jam, Taliy'ah member Amir Sulaiman has been heavily targeted by the Federal Government in an effort to intimidate and threaten him into abandoning his efforts to spread Islam and Social Justice through the medium of poetry and Hip Hop. Other Taliy'ah members were harassed who knew him and had family members harassed and intimidated at their places of employment by Federal Agents.

Some Taliy'ah members agreed to come in and talk to the Federal investigators provided they bring an attorney with them. This was strongly discouraged by the Agents who claimed that the attorney would not allow them to ask the questions they wished to ask. In other words, their questions were designed to incriminate the individuals involved when no wrong doing was apparent in the least.

Brother Amir has gained a strong following of his music, poetry and writings wherever they are made manifest. In turn, the FBI has expressed deep concern saying "Is Amir trying to spread Islam through Hip Hop?" Obviously THIS is their true concern, not whether or not he has done anything illegal; for if he had, they would not be asking questions, they would show the evidence of this and would have put out a warrant for his arrest. Clearly his only crime is that of spreading "Islam through Hip Hop."
______________________________________

Date: October 17th, 2004.

My name is Amir Sulaiman; I am Muslim of African decent born in America. I am a 26 year old, poet, writer, teacher, husband and father. I taped as a featured poet on HBO Def Poetry Jam in February of 2004. My episode aired August 8th through August 14th. Within six days of my performance airing, four FBI agents came to my mother-in-law's home in San Francisco. Although I have lived in Atlanta, GA since 2001 and was only visiting my in-laws in California, these agents came looking for me there. They asked for me but my brother-in-law informed them that I was not there. They waited hours for my return. As they were waiting, they questioned my brother-in-law about my background and asked about my “anti-American” poetry.

When I arrived, I told the agents I didn't want to talk to them without legal representation. In the last two months since then, they have called me on my cell phone. They have gone to the high school at which I taught and questioned the principal about me. Later they issued a grand jury subpoena for the names, addresses, phone numbers of all my students, the classes I taught, and my personal file. In addition, I learned at the Atlanta’s Hartsfiled International Airport’s ticket counter that my name has been added to the FBI’s “no-fly” list. The agents did not return my lawyers phone calls for nearly two months but continued to question my friends and associates.

This experience made me wonder, what is freedom of speech? The reality is that speech has never been free. There have been many poets, writers, and speakers who blazed the trail upon which I walk whose free speech cost them their livelihood, their families and in some cases even their lives. Whether they were inspiring the powerless or chastising the powerful, people like Amiri Baraka, Sojourner Truth and Peter Tosh paid the cost for this “free” speech we talk about.

In a new world, wrought nearly insane with paranoia, I, simply by being Muslim, have become a threat. In an old world, still stuck in the muck of racism, I, as a young Black man, am still a threat. This fear is further compounded by my refusal to remain silent in the face of such blatant hypocrisy, thievery, and tyranny. As a Muslim, as a man, as a member of the Human Family, I must speak the Truth with the loudest, most effective voice I can muster, especially when the virtue of justice has been so casually ignored. It is my sacred obligation.

Islam, my way of life, does not allow me to remain still and quiet while a war is being waged not only against Islam and Muslims, but against the Human Family and Life itself. As the hadith of prophet Muhammad (pbuh&f) states, “Whoever among you sees wrongdoing should change it with his hand. If he is unable, then with his speech. If he is unable, then with his heart, and that is the weakest level of faith.”

I was born and raised in America. My mother and father were born and raised in America and their parents were born and raised in America. I consider America my country. This is beyond the sentiments of patriotism or pride. It is a matter of fact. My people have deep roots and a long history in this land. They have invested their blood in the soil of the South, in the factories of the North and the frontiers of the West. Upon the backs of my foreparents, this nation was built. My family’s history in this country precedes the White House, the Pentagon even the Constitution. America is my country.

Although I do not agree with the policies of the leaders of this nation, their fate and my fate are irresistibly tied together. The decisions of our leaders affect my three little daughters, my parents, my home. This is what impassions my voice and intensifies my warning.

When I present poetry, it is not that I am speaking as Amir Sulaiman. Many people recognize my voice as their own. I have traveled the country presenting my poetry before audiences of many different racial, ethnic, religious, economic, and political backgrounds. They have encouraged me. They have implored me, even commanded me to continue using my poetry to broadcast their voices in ways and in places that they cannot. The people have found their sentiments in my heart and their voice in my words. This is a great blessing and an equally great responsibility. I must warn for fear that we, the people, be assigned to the same fate as our leaders who have created enemies then created wars in order to create revenue.

The artist is to be a warner for society at large. Often the artist is like Cassandra, the character is Greek mythology that was blessed with the ability to see the future but cursed with the promise that no one would ever believe her. Jesus, Muhammad, Ghandi and Malik Shabazz (Malcolm X) were all warners. All of them had loved ones in a society being led down a road towards destruction. All of them also had enemies trying to extinguish their message. Many governments and empires have made the error of silencing the warner. To silence the warner, in a strategy to prevent what is being warned against, is to unplug the fire alarm hoping that will prevent the house from burning down.

The vicious are only kindling a fire about their ankles. In fact, their habit of repression only fuels the brewing discontent and adds fire to the flames. They are dousing the fire with gasoline wondering why the flames only grow more intense and the hatred grows more severe. Both History and prophecy promise a day of awful reckoning for a society that has grown repressive, gluttonous and tyrannical.

My poetry is a sacred obligation that does not require the approval of the FBI or any other government department or agency. I will not ask for my right to speak, as that right has been given to me by the Most High. I only ask for more voices to come forward in the name of justice for the sake of all of us and our families. In truth, coming forward in the name of justice is a sacred obligation upon us all. We must give hope to the hopeless souls, warning to the obstinate tyrants and try to contribute to a more livable life for the Human Family.

Peace
Amir Sulaiman