God and Wine

I willingly awoke at 3:30 this morning to the whispers of Agnus Dei bathing in my brain: "Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis. Dona nobis pacem. -> Lamb of God, you who take away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us. Grant us peace." This morning I (re)claim and declare peace. As much as I'd like to wish 2014 "adieu", I've decided to hold out for promises yet fulfilled; and I will fight the good fight to reclaim my joy...my life...myself, until the ticking of the clock rings anew. I want to say "it is finished" and mean it-- to painfully revel in this year filled with countless beautiful moments paralleled by gut-wrenching despair, incredible achievements matched with insurmountable heartache. I still have faith that in the final quarter of this Julian year, hopes and dreams will find me and meet me at the alter of my fears. We'll eclipse all self-doubt and worry as we journey to peace, together. Pacem

October 5th Kansas City, MO I was sitting out by a water fountain just beyond the Country Club Plaza in Kansas City, MO, when I noticed a man, barefoot and walking in the knee-high deep, rich blue water. He was fishing for coins, and looked frazzled and frustrated with his findings (or the lack thereof). He wasn't disturbing anybody or begging for money. His shoulder length dirty blonde hair and thin body resembled that of the white Jesus of the Renaissance paintings, or a 20th century "Hollywood Jesus." But this man, the wanderer, walked in water--not on it--and certainly didn't look like the well put-together, commercialized Jesus we know. His thinness bordered frailty, his mind seemed absent from his body, his clothes, ragged.  A man and his wife were sitting on a bench across from me with their two young children. I saw them, too, watching this man--the wanderer. They got up to leave and I assumed that they, like many (myself included), would ignore thi...

9.4.14 there is warm breath beneath my ear and for a second  I forget that  I am never alone mysterious murmurings of the  matchless monarch of the universe marvelously maneuver their way into    my cluttered, swollen brain "I love you" she says over and over again  I drift off  to the whispers of God

A visually integrated performance piece written and conceived by artist/activist Mia Michelle McClain for the Department of Art and Public Policy at Tisch School of the Arts, New York University, May 3. 2014 Kimmel Center, New York University http://youtu.be/xaQ0VswbeoQ

She says,"[I] need to spend more time with [myself]...pamper yourself. Get a facial. Do your feet." The thing is, I do spend time with myself... reading books, writing essays, vision boarding. Are those things not of value? (That's rhetorical.) I'd much rather you fall in love with my mind than my manicure. And she'll never really get it , or me, because the ones closest to you understand you the least.  --- She says she prays for my future husband...because I'm cantankerous and not fixated on such feeble-minded feminine things. My masculinity is vastly apparent and apparently frowned upon. I will never be such a woman as she, and never did I desire to be. The polish on my pinky toe chips and tarnishes my pedicure, and I don't bother to cover up the imperfections of womanhood. We are not Grecian statues, frozen in time. We come to life and the perfect carvings are beautifully spoiled by the intrinsic malleability of the human flesh and soul. That is my wom...

Eat and Be Merry (draft) the fat beneath my ass does a warm nut brownie make makin me love and hate this new junk in my trunk and the sweet potato fries turn into rolls beneath my breasts this pregnant feelin ain't too cute and I ain't too cute in this swimmin suit jamabalaya, yaya, catfish collard greens and cornbread dreams are turning into nightmares 'neath these B cups that used to be A  cups of hot chocolate drizzled in caramel, whipped cream topped with marshmallows that have melted into these thighs breasts, legs of fried chicken are to blame for a zipper that don't zip no more jeans don't fit no more and these bras that now carve lines into my back like tracks, making love handles this ain't love, and I don't love that you love "a lil something to grab on to" this is war as I fight the urge to stuff this pain like turkey on a leafy day these carbohydrates I don't need cuz eatin clean and eatin green just makes me mean when all i ever w...

The color of your skin- a sort of lemon meringue- contoured around a full framed face. I wish I'd known you longer and felt your luscious smile. Contagious was the squint of your eyes, almond in shape, when your heart pierced through pearly stones and your cheekbones lifted  and the curve of your brow met silky black hair lined with grey edges. I wish I'd known you longer. A smooth, creamy complexion,  free from wrinkles, suggested an age other than your own; And you never knew your birth year; The evil that gave you high yellow  took your age as well. I wish I'd known you,  maybe to stand beside you in the mirror to see whiteness of my ancestors more clearly- to understand this high yellow I am in winter- to recognize the history behind these cheekbones- to know myself better- to know you ... The fullness of your nose and softness of your dimples caress my almond eyes, and what I've wished to know about you l...