Poetry Reading

Last Thursday (March 18), as part of the creative writing workshops I have been attending, I got up in front a room full of people and recited my writings - an accomplishment I am very proud of!

The creative writing workshops have been absolutely fantastic.  I was able to write differently than what I’ve been used to.  When being forced to write on the spot, without censorship of your work, and on subjects that you would not necessarily write (or even think) about - you will be surprised at all the beautiful and magical things that come out of your head on to the paper.  We were not allowed to excuse what we wrote - we simply wrote (based on our instructions) then read it out -  so god damned liberating! 

This piece I wrote (and was consequently the seconde piece I read) in class. We were told to imagine we were invited to a ball on Venus and we had a fairy god-mother that could offer us with anything we wanted - from clothing  to mode of transportation.  Here is what my beautiful mind coughed up:

Goddess of Love’s Ball

 

 Come one come all….

I prefer to move on my own

….it’s the Goddess of Love’s ball!

Maybe I might find me one,

although that is not my focus

I do want to make an entrance.

I will call on Mayais – she will hook me up!

It will be green and sleek,

long and flowing with one high-ass slit

to accentuate my best assets.

My shoulders will bare my strength

A green amber necklace with a long tail

disappearing into my cleavage.

Heels so high my calves would pop!

A low-cut back stopping short of my crack.

If anyone dared to touch, without my consent,

they would get a nasty shock…can look but please do not touch!

My make-up would be flawless

Bitch – Warrior – Goddess

ready to do some serious damage!

The hair big and ‘froy, pulled tight at the sides

slanting my eyes!

I would be hard not to notice

I’d arrive on my high-tech, one-of-a-kind bike

No helmet that would ruin the look.

I’d dismount my Dukati and saunter in confidently,

the noise would cease

for what would seem like eternity.

 

 The first piece I read was based on my trip to Camden Market.  The instructor wanted our reading to be Camden specific, so I wrote this piece outside of the class based on my first two adventures to this glorious market – Kensington got nothing on this place let me tell ya!

The First Time We Meet

 

It was Stridee,

that’s what her other friends call her affectionately.

To me she’s Astrid

it was she who first introduced me to this market

so very eclectic that I was immediately captivated.

I knew you would love it,

is what she said to me,

That’s why I brought you here to Camden.

I stared at her thinking

we have only just reconnected

it was a ten-year separation

how could she possibly know me so well?

That she, Stridee, would know exactly what kind of place I would revel.

She’s perceptive like that

I never noticed before.

Then again I did not notice much

back then I was in the dark

I did not even know I

Who stand before you in stark

Contrast to that girl then.

I AM ALIVE!

Much like the energy I feel along this busy High Street

buzzing with vivacity sipping on Starbucks coffee,

overlooking the Regent Canal.

I gaze out the window breathing deeply

Ouch! I burn my god-damn tongue!

In the market, too taken to notice the cold

we stumble upon a vendor

his Jade stones draw me in.

His aura is serene, mesmerizing are his stories – every piece has one!

Green enhances my skin tone this I’ve always known.

The market – a good place for our secret Santa gifts

£10 possibly less!

I would sell my radical clothing designs here, in Camden market

it would be a perfect union not made trivially.

I hope my secret Santa gets my gift from Camden

so many things here I’d buy for myself.

Knowing my luck I would probably get a box set;

lotion with strong perfume to match,

perfume which will no doubt singe the hairs in my nose

resulting in uncontrollable sneezing fits.

Not something unique

that abounds in Camden and just like me.

Unfortunately,

not everyone can be like Stridee.

Now that girl SHE knows me!

Creative Expresssion

I have been feeling artistic/creative lately and have decided to do something about it.  I have been to a few sewing workshops – I have made one big hell of a bag and an incomplete bottom and top (I will finish them I swear).  The bag, which I am very proud of, is getting rave reviews from friends, my workshop instructor even told me I seem to be a natural at this sewing thing – just what I want to hear.  Not too bad for a budding designer eh!

I have also been attending some creative writing workshops and I found them to be absolutely exhilarating.

The first workshop was my favourite.  It was an archival type workshop in which we had props placed in front of us.  My prop was secret document files from World War II around the 1940s.  from those props we had to produce written pieces as directed by the instructor.   Here are my creations:

Part 1

I am a Lieutenant.  The weight of the world is heavy on my shoulders – all this secret information.  I can’t tell anyone, it’s too much I need to release I need to escape.  I will run, run fast and furious!  Will anyone notice if I don’t return.  I can stay here with Liz.  I like it here.  There are no secrets here.  I am me.  I am free.  I speak freely not constantly looking over my shoulders watching what I have to say.  Suppose I say too much, maybe it’s too little.

  

Part 2

It must be heavy.  I don’t like war I think it’s ugly.  I could never imagine what it must be like to actually fight in one.  How are your spirits?  Does all the killing and death that surrounds you eat away at your soul?

 

I have a son – that would make him you great-great grandson.  I would do everything in my power to ensure he stays out of the army.  What would you tell him about war?

I see all the things happening in Afghanistan and I cannot imagine that being my son fighting there possibly coming home in a body bag.

 

Do you miss your family – your wife?  How about that good home cooked meal?  I brought you some macaroni pie, stew chicken and callaloo. 

 

I knew that would put a smile on your face.  Go ahead eat up!  Great grandma told me it was your favourite.

 

What was that?  You haven’t smiled in months?  That’s okay I’m glad to bring some sunshine into your life.

 

Don’t cry!  It will all be over soon, just keep that end in sight. 

 

We all miss you!

 

Soon all this grey will be blue.  You will see the sun again.  It will give you a big warm kiss on your beautiful face and dry up all those salty tears. 

 

Stay up!  Maybe next time I will bring you a cake!

 

Part 3

I don’t like how it smells around here.  The smell is making me nauseous.  It’s not one distinct smell it’s a combination of many, many bad smells.  I knew it would not be good but I didn’t expect it to be like this.  It’s a combination of body odor, bad breath, shit and piss, decay, gas and death.

 

It is toxic.  It would taste like swallowing a can of fuel/petrol/gasoline – it would definitely kill you.

 

I see grey, brown mud, black oil/pitch.  The greenery is hiding behind a sheet of grey/blue/purple film.

 

It would feel like sticking my hand through a very thin latex glove that has been lying for days in the hole of a portable loo – NASTY!

 

Knowing my past means a lot to me, I like to feel connected to something.  Not knowing leaves me with a sense of disconnect like floating around with no roots.  I feel rich like I belong somewhere – my past is dear to me!

 

These writings are going to be part of an exhibition at the Camden Inspirations Market in London from March 22 – March 26, 2010 and at The British Museum on March 27, 2010 – pretty good huh!

When it was All so Simple

It’s not complicated it’s simple

A matter of principle

Certain as the day is tomorrow

Let me know if it is so

The path of least resistance

Under no false pretense

Effortless as the wind blows

And the grass grows, it sure is

 My fourteen year old son has told me he has a girlfriend, that I can live with.  When he told me how he and his girlfriend came to be a couple well, quite frankly, I was baffled – baffled by the sheer simplicity of it all.

This is what he related to me: I walked up to her and asked her if she wanted to go out with me and she said yes.  They are now “in a relationship” as it says on his Facebook profile.  That’s it I thought to myself.

My fourteen year old niece’s story about her boyfriend is relatively similar.  She said to me: I told him that I heard he liked me, cause a friend of mine asked him if he liked me and she said that he said he did, and we decided to be “in a relationship”.  Her Facebook status so too backs up that claim.  That was it, I remarked to myself.

So it begs me to ask, when the hell did it all get so complicated?

Relationships, as far as I know or care to remember, have not been that simple since I was, you guessed it, thirteen/fourteen when I too was “going around” with my first love.  What has happened from that time, way back then, to now that has made this dating game more complicated than figuring out a “rated difficult” Sudoku puzzle.

Do the complications come with age?  The older we get the more dating we seem to do before we finalize that “official in a relationship” status.  It should be obvious that there is definitely a “like” connection if there is continuous dating (I don’t waste time dating someone I don’t like).  So why isn’t that enough anymore?

Has all the countless break-ups and break-downs jaded us?  Has it made us all too cautious  so we now look both ways, again and again, before we dare step so much as a toe on to that two-way street of love?

Is it time to get back to the basics, the days when liking each other was enough to seal the deal.  No “kickin’ it” for 3, 6, 9 or 12 months (sometimes even years) before we become exclusive.

As I listened to my son and my niece’s stories I thought pleasantly, with a hint of envy - young love so sweet so simple.  Much can be learnt from these teens not yet scared by a string of relationships gone wrong.

Simplicity.  Less is more.  You like me, I like you, let’s do this damn thing.

Simple!

Let’s Talk BreakFAST

To me, breakfast is a worthless meal.  The body has been at rest all night, it has not expended energy, therefore, why should a person get up after the inactivity of sleep and put a big breakfast into the stomach. – Paul C. Bragg “The Miracle of FASTING”

We have all heard it before – the most important meal of the day is breakfast.  I now have my doubts about the validity of that statement, so should you!

I have always dreaded (as did my son) eating in the mornings, especially if it was very early.  But because I have been thought to have a “good” breakfast I have often forced food down my throat in the mornings whether I was hungry or not (I certainly did not want to faint on the bus or train because I did not have a hearty breakfast). 

In Trinidad, thanks to my mother’s abundance of mango trees, I would often have two or three delicious mangoes in the mornings and be on my way.  I did not know this was a better option than overloading my system with heavy foods.

YOU MUST EARN YOUR FOOD BY PHYSICAL ACTIVITY. – Paul C. Bragg

The body is a great cleaning system, and despite what we consume it works hard to keep things clean.  When we are sleeping the body repairs itself and eliminates toxins at a faster rate than when we are awake.  During the time we are sleeping we are fasting you can say.  The body is still in the cleaning process when we awake and needs at least a few more hours to continue working.  Getting the right start in the morning is important.  Throwing in hard-to-digest milk, sugar, syrup, caffeine, etc. whilst the body is trying to clean in unnecessary not to mention burdensome on the system.

It is very important that for the first 5-6 hours after you wake the only foods that go into your body are fast.  You need high water content, nutrient-packed, ‘pre digested by the plant’ super foods; foods that help to flush the body of wastes and feed it at the same time. – Jason Vale “Ultimate Fast Food”

On the days that I am fasting (I fast every other day) I have only water with a slice or two of lemon.  On the days that I do eat, as soon as I wake I have a glass of water with a lemon slice (that I keep on my night stand) then I do some deep breathing – a healthy dose of water and oxygen to start the day!  I then make my way to the kitchen and start the juicing of fruits – pears, apples, pineapple, kiwi, oranges, grapefruits and carrots (the lone vegetable).  I pour this into a blender add a banana and mix it all up (you can add strawberries, blueberries or apricots in the blender with the banana).  That is my breakfast, I “eat” nothing before noon.  Of course if a fruit juice is not sufficient, or if you don’t have time to juice in the mornings eating a fruit also works.  I juice enough to last a couple of days, I do not keep the juice longer than two days.  If you want to extend the life of your juice add lemon to the mix.

I feel great in the mornings and for the rest of the day with this new morning ritual.  I can go the whole day without food, not eating until 5 or 6pm.  I don’t feel hungry (fasting may have helped here) and I still have energy to burn.

Before my new morning regiment I would feel so groggy in the mornings (you couldn’t dream of talking to me before my coffee).  I could have barely kept my eyes open at my desk.  Not anymore!  I am a bundle of energy in the mornings and boy is my mind sharper and clearer.

When you eat a heavy breakfast through reflex action you feel full and satisfied but you do not gain strength.  It takes hours for this food to be processed by the digestive system before you gain any energy or vitality. Paul C. Bragg

It IS worth the try……trust!

The Nerve of Pervs

To say that I have had my fair share of run-ins with men who cannot seem to keep their hormones in check is an understatement.  I am always amazed at the sheer gumption of these disgusting pigs.

I always encounter these brain-dead jerks on public transportation, where else!  On the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC) I have had, on three separate occasions, men masturbate in front of me, next to me, way too close to me.

The first time is always the most shocking.  I was in total disbelief when this scum bucket sat on the bench next to me, his brief case conveniently placed upright on his lap, and started to grunt and moan, accompanied by slapping sounds, right there in the very busy Finch Station.  I did not react, as I understood that the reaction is the thrill for them, it’s what gets the “off”.  I simply got up when my bus came and just to make sure that this was really happening, I glanced at the bastard.  And there he sat with penis in hand, looking like the sick bastard that he was, jerking himself off in the middle of a very bust station.   I was horrified!

The second time it happens, although still disgusting,  it loses some of the shock value, you don’t get as shook up you become a veteran so to speak.  In this instance I was on the train, the TTC again, and there sat this fat slob in a seat across from me, staring me in my face as he vigorously yanked away at his private, with his tongue so graciously hanging out the side of his mouth.  I looked at this fool with a “are you friggin’ serious” expression on my face  and looked away.  He quickly packed his stuff away as the train started to fill up with riders at the next stop.  Although I was not a flustered as the first time I was still flabbergasted at the brazenness of this “man”.

The third occasion was brief and I was not too sure if this pig was masturbating as I was not directly facing him nor did I glance his way.  I was sitting on the train, this man was standing to my left and from the corner of my eye I saw a lot of hand action going on, like someone furiously pulling and tugging away at something, that was suspiciously near his groin area.  I got off the train (it was my stop) and paid this idiot no mind.

So it is no surprise that I found myself on Tuesday (Feb 16), here in London on one of their double-decker busses, sitting next to a pervert.  This one placed himself in the empty next to me.  I am not a big girl by any stretch of the imagination.  I barely fill up the part of the seat on a bus assigned to me.  So when someone sits next to me there is really no need for us to be touching unless we are romantically linked or unless the other person is big-boned.  This asshole was not big-boned and we were definitely not an item, yet he seemed to fill up not only his seat but some of mine.  At first, as my mind was a drift, I did not notice just how close he was to me.  At one time I did glance at my leg and found that his left hand, with a wedding ring on it, was way too close to my leg, so I shifted closer to the window (away from him).  As time went on, I felt the heaviness of his body weighing  on me I thought he may have fallen asleep and was drifting to my side but when I looked over at him I saw he was awake.  He was also rubbing his left hand (ever so subtly) on the side of my right thigh.  I stared at him again, I nudged him and I shuffled in my seat – whatever I could do to get him to move.  It worked a couple of times but he then went back to the same odd behaviour.  Had I moved anymore to the left (away from him) I would have broken through the bus window and fallen on a car or in front of an on coming bicycle.  The creepy bastard eventually got off the bus at his designated stop, as he was getting up I was “looking” out the window and saw as he looked in my direction his smiling reflection.  I was livid, what was this jack ass smiling about, were “we” playing some sort of game, one I never consented to.

The scary part is this guy was married.  There was some poor woman out there who was completely unaware that her husband gets cheap thrills “rubbing up” on women (cause I know this was not first time behaviour) who are going about their business and do not know him (or care to know him) from Adam.

This is what women have to be subjected to, sometimes worse – some women are raped or even killed by sickos out there.  What is to stop pervs, like the ones I have encountered, from taking it to the next level - not just masturbating or “rubbing up” against someone but acting out and forcing themselves on some unsuspecting woman.   It’s pretty nauseating and scary to know there are men out there making themselves a god damn nuisance to innocent women and girls.

Who in the hell do you think you are

Thought I’d respond when you took it too far

Who told you cave dwellers you were allowed out

Can’t walk up right yet you want some clout

Weak….chauvinistic when you speak

Want the prize but you’re not qualified to compete

 

What made you think you could step to me

I stand upright

You are vile quite simply

Bad enough that you ventured away from home

Muthafuckas like you deserve three shots to the dome

Waste of flesh this IS NOT where you belong

 

Maybe you were in the cave too long

But putting your hands on me is assault

Not something I’ve been secretly pining for

So for all of you out there residing in the caves

We no longer live in the dark ages

If you’re stepping out and don’t know the rules of the game

Do us all a favor

Get a gun, put it to your head and pull the trigger – Cave Dweller by Anika

On the FAST track!

In my opinion, the greatest discovery by modern man is the power to rejuvenate himself physically, mentally and spiritually with RATIONAL FASTING. – Paul C. Bragg from the book The Miracle of Fasting

I have long been a fan of physical fitness.  In 2006 I became a Certified Personal Trainer.  I love working out and training my body.  At the height of my training I found that I no longer craved or wanted to eat certain foods.  

While I was in Trinidad I made the decision to stop eating meat.  I met a man on a trip to the countryside in Trinidad called Toco.  He told me he did not eat cooked food, he only ate seeds and oats…raw foods basically.  He also spoke on the subject of fasting.  That was when my interest in fasting piqued.

I started to fast, after my encounter with this gentleman, I would fast then about twice or three times a week.  Back then I really was not well-informed about the benefits of fasting though.  It wasn’t until I got to London that I got to fully understand what I was truly doing to myself by fasting.

At the beginning of this year, from January 4 – January 17, I went on a detox.  I only consumed fruit and vegetable juices.  I would put all my fruits or all my vegetables (or sometimes a combination of both fruits and vegetables) in a juicer and would nourish my system with that ONLY.  I instantly saw a difference in my skin, my vision and my mental clarity.

During this detox I found a book (a very ancient book) about fasting, The Miracle of FASTING, in Madame M’s collection of books and could not put it down.  It was only then that I knew what I was actually doing to myself when I started fasting back in Trinidad.  I was in fact doing my body a world of good.  Of course when I was fasting in Trinidad I was not completely doing the best job as I still consumed a lot of garbage on the days I did eat.

Now it’s a whole different story!  Your girl is taking fasting and nutrition to a whole other level.

When we fast, stop eating, all the “Vital Power” that has been used to convert food into energy and body tissue, is now used to flush poisons from the body.  The body is self-cleansing, self-healing and self-repairing.

Now I fast every other day.  Madame M just read an article to me from the Review in The Globe and Mail, that backs up my thoughts about fasting.  It reads “Fasting every other day maybe a way to live longer as well as lose weight.  It may also lower the risk of conditions such as heart disease and cancer as well as ease symptoms of chronic ailments.”  All I know is I feel 100% whole since my new regiment.  I no longer feel sluggish and tired as I used to I am energized, my mind seems sharper and my body seems to be more flexible.  Every time I tell people I fast every other day a quizzical look appears on their faces followed by WHY?!?! like I was some sort of nut job.  I am not here to convince any one to fast all I can tell you is how much better it makes me feel and I am sticking to it.

On the fist day of April this year I will be going on a 10 day fast.  Every quarter I will take a 10 day fast (only water).  So added to my fasting every other day I will also do four 10 days fast a year.  Remember many of the great masters have fasted, Jesus for one, as did Buddha and let us not forget Gandhi!

Most humans are slaves to food; they must have breakfast, lunch and dinner at regular meal-hours every day, year-in and year-out.  They eat whether they are hungry or not, and the poor body is burdened with over-nutririon and usually poor nutrition at that.

I have now become very anal about what I put into my system.  I no longer drink coffee (so long Starbucks I WILL miss you), no more alcohol, no junk food (which I did not much indulge in thanks to my training regiment), I watch my salt and sugar intake like a hawk.  I cook/make everything I eat  and if I do eat food I do not cook I read the labels CAREFULLY, if things don’t look right I do not consume it.  I have also cut down on my portions.  I no longer consume dairy, I have long given up on eggs (I stopped eating eggs when I stopped eating meat).  Nothing white (which I already did) but I take it to the next level now and try not to have white rice or pasta.  I only drink water (nowadays with a slice of lemon) , this is not something new for me, I usually only drink water.  If I do drink anything other than water it will be a nut punch that I make with healthy ingredients.

Each time you fast, you will make your mind stronger and more positive; each time you fast, you will eliminate fear and worry.  Fasting helps you to a higher life.  that is why the greatest spiritual leaders were ardent fasters.  Fasting elevates the soul, the mind and the body.  What greater rewards can you desire in life?

I am now an avid faster.  I enjoy how I feel since I have started fasting.  Initially it can be challenging as our bodies have been conditioned by our years of habitual consumption.  But once you get over the initial hump it becomes easier and becomes second nature. 

Good nutrition including fasting, regular exercise and a  positive mental outlook makes for good living.

Eat to live don’t live to eat.  Many dishes, many diseases. – Ben Franklin   

Dreadlocks inna Babylondon

 

The land of frustration

Where procrastination can lead to your extinction

If it’s not slain like a fireless dragon

Because there is no time like the present, no such thing as a future in Babylondon

Although I keep hearing people talk about this place called “Black Britain”

Well call me doubting Thomas, because unless I see it, I will NEVER

believe that one.

For unlike the Chinese, the Arabs and the Indian,

The “Black Community” doesn’t have a specific physical location

I just see Black people walking around the streets of Inglan

 

This place is so full of confusion

And what’s worse is that they want to spread their pollution

Under the deceptive guise of offering solutions

 

Lauryn Hill said it’s funny how money changes a situation

But it’s a serious thing how lack of it can cause complication

And dwelling on it can lead to a state of disillusion

Who wants to be thinking about bills and debt under a peaceful meditation?

That will cause you to be vulnerable to temptation

Which will then leave you wide open to deception

An there’s never short of that in this place called BABYLONDON - “Welcome to BABYLONDON” by Keiron Audain from the book Intellectual Vagabond

When I allowed the stylist to take a shaver to my head some 14 years ago to  remove the dead, limp, straight hair that so hideously lay my head, I was in a bit of a limbo as to what I was going to do with my natural Black (African) hair once it started gaining length.  I decided to twist my hair and have continued to do so, styling the twist as I saw fit adding variety to my natural locks (I get bored easily).

I always said I would lock my hair when I was much older (like fifty or so) when all this twisting stuff would have proven to be too much work for me at that age.  Well that time has come, I am no where near fifty or so, but I now feel a strong urge to start the locking process.

Many of my friends in London have beautiful, long, healthy looking locks.  When I was in Trinidad I was amazed at all the beautiful styles that the people with locks donned.  I strongly feel it is now the time for me to lock it up.  I think the London weather also had something to do with my decision.  I had been in a sunny country for a while before I came here and the winter has not been too kind to my hair – kind of dried it up - it also seems more prone to breakage.  I also didn’t feel like combing my hair anymore since I got to London, I think I get fed up of seeing all the hair that constantly came out every time I washed and combed my hair (natural shedding I know but still not pleasing to the eye).  I just said to myself enough is enough, plus it’s time for a change!

I have always felt that natural Black (African) hair is not meant to be combed.  The only time Black (African) natural hair tends to really flourish and grow to great lengths is when it is locked.  Having my hair natural for some time I can attest the fact that combing my hair is not only a source of great pain but also a source of great hair loss.  After I pass a comb through a section of my hair and I take a look at the comb I am always saddened at the amount of hair that comes out on to the comb, and that is only one section of my hair.

So I have decided to take the plunge, turns out it wasn’t going to be when I was fifty like I planned, it was going to happen NOW!  It has been  four weeks since I have been “locking”.  I was contemplating whether I should go to a “professional” and let them start it off for me but I decided against that.  I haven’t been to a hair salon in a long time, I don’t like them, and being natural and styling my hair has afforded me the luxury of avoiding them.  I only got to them for a colour, that’s usually quick and painless, as I don’t allow them to style my hair, they just colour it and I get the hell out!

I figured I am pretty much an expert in natural hair as I have twisted my hair myself for like forever and I figured locking my hair should not be hard for me.  So I went against the advice about going to a professional and I have started it off all by myself and so far I have no complaints.  I am one of those people who doesn’t like to wait for people to do anything for me, if I can do it then I will do it, no point wasting my life waiting for someone else to get the job done!  That’s just me!

So it’s been about a month now and counting.  I will have to be very patient as I have been told it may take some time for the hair to actually lock, especially as my hair is not very course/nappy and I am starting it off with a fair bit of length.

Yet another new direction my life, or in this case my hair, is taking!  I am truly excited about locking my hair and cannot wait to see the end results.

Jah Rastafari!