an Ode to the infamous .

... but you can call him genious .
'cause who knew it would take a man in a pastel polo to change the hip hop world ?
i can only testify for myself :

i am a kanye-ER. since i heard through the wire, i felt his sincerity. i felt his humor. i felt the level of the game, shift from beneath my feet & push me up until my ears popped . it was a high .
he was the underdog speaking to everyone with loser tendencies. the ones who were too honest about being insecure. the ones who were thirsty for a shot to prove themselves . between singing jesus walks in the car with my brother, and putting on my ghetto voice to say 'you mean talib, lyrics stick to ya rib? [i mean] thats my favorite cd that i play at my crib [i mean] you dont really know him...whyyy is you lyin?' i was hooked . he was simply too real for hip hop .

the next song that changed my life: flashing lights. i was driving in my car, top down in september when i popped the cd in with dallas . the beat dropped , and so did our heads . we screamed 'ooooooooooooh!'. i felt like a boy, but i didnt care, that song brought out the best in me . the beat was too sweet and hard at the same time. i fell in love.he gave me the dose of medicine that i never had as a child. i needed my kanye vaccine to deprive me of all the 'finger snappin, bling poppin, shootin niggas music'.

the realest song i ever heard. the drums tangled in my mind for hours and hours. the hollow beats and notes off in the distance made me picture myself with stones and water. crazy. he spoke with so much passion 'i admit i still fantasize about you'. it made me wonder who hurt him? can i hurt them? haha . SAY YOU WILL made me come to life . boom boom bing bing boom bing . before i heard that song, i felt like i stayed awake and sleep deprived for ten months. when i heard it, i felt like my body finally collapsed into 808 thousand count egyptian cotton sheets .

kanye west , my hero .


overrrrrr iht .

how DARE me not allow you to squeeze on my ass .
no , really . who am i to think that my behind belongs to me and that i have a say-so about it ?
"Eh yo" the boys scream as they prick me with their hollow eyes.
so ... i continue to walk .
you see, for eighteen years i was called 'stevi' & i didnt know i had a new name .
then the howling begins . it becomes expected after a while, like the lady who screams every sunday at church . same volume, same pitch, same words . the norm .
they try to convince me that i aint that cute .
i aint gotta be so stuck up .
"Why you Spelman girls gotta be so sadity?"
i turn around and think .
dignity or safety ? can i keep my respect and my life at the same time ?

i remember that girl in LA . she told him no, so he shot her in the head.
remember that girl ? she hurt his pride so he hurt her back . an 'uneven'
exchange if you ask me.

between the beer battered breathing on my face, the snatching of my arms until i jerk back, the sniffing of my hair, the 'accidental' feeling of my butt, and the coincidentally abnormally extremely long time it takes for a guy to pass behind you at the club, you lose your expectation for niggas .

thee end :]


be yourself . cheesy ?

so, you know that feeling you get when you first start to date somebody ? you know youre a great person and you want to be perceived as such ... but dont know how to go about it? you dont want to tell your whooooole life story, but you want to seem interesting enough to be liked . you want to seem smart, but not one of those 'well actually' type people . you want to look fashion forward, but not like an idiot who threw on every designer thing in their closet . you want to make cute, witty jokes but wanna cry when it comes out like a joke your granny woulda told . confident but not cocky. sexy but not raunchy. happy, but not giddy. deep, but not boring. you worry constantly when they come by that things may not go perfectly like you had planned . butterflies in your stomach, fluttering the edges of your tummy--tucked in because you dont want your gut to show in that top .

... but if we thrive for these 'mediums' instead of the extremes, we will never be PERFECT . we will just be the warm water, the safe choice, the milk .


=D .

she tried slimfast , nutrition bars, pills, and push-ups .
nothing seemed to give her the body she wanted ... until she met him . she woke up one morning staring at her stomach in the mirror . he made those abs . those restless nights of laughter on the phone gave her a pack of six . & she grinned . it had been a while since she smiled from rememberance . replaying all the jokes they dived into lastnight. the movies they quoted. the lifes' philosophies that they shared the night before. she looked at sharing differently now, she did not want to share him. he was like the snack at recess that wouldnt leave her grip. stinginess was just fine by her . life's punches caused bruises on her world and it limped everywhere . his words were the icyhot . icy when he sent chills down her spine, and hot when he reminded this goddess of her wealth . they defied time . they went into the land of petnames, blushes, and genuine feeling . even beyond the body of her dreams, he gave her the contentment of her dreams . hell, he sleptover in her dreams, sleeping bag and all...

she even let him leave his toothbrush .


never shoulda .

my disappointment
my lack of hope
my exhaustion
is pressing against the borders of my body . its like smoke. i cant grab it quick enough to set it loose. it just sits like nicotine smoke. infecting my life. i try to close my eyes and all i can see are the shapes and colors of rejection and hope yet lost again . i lay down and i feel the pricks of shock . what i thought was, wasnt . what i thought i didnt want, i did . what i want to be simplistic is twisting around my thoughts and feelings, mending the line of distinction . the things i want the most, are the things i cant admit . the things i want the most, are the things im scared to lose . i thought i had time. but the hands on the clock are wrapping around my neck ... squeezing tighter everydaybreakmyheart . pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure . he kicked me in the heart with the most gentle of sorts. so who could be mad? the remedy is to tape my heart's wounds. cause contrary to belief, they never heal .