So these last few months have been interesting. I have had sooo many great things happen. But one thing seems to trump a good portion of that. The loss of my love.

blurb about nothing

Hola internet world... nice to have the time to breathe again, if only for a second. I'm resting at my friends place right now. Breathing as it is. It's actually quite nice to take a break for a moment. From school, from slam, from my life. Get my priorities straight as I try to figure out how I'm going to keep my vehicle, get together my grad applications and do this tour. I think what's going to be essential to these next few weeks is putting the focus in the right places. School being of the most importance, and everything else just kinda along for the ride. If I remember these things, I should do pretty well I think.

Been writing like crazy... for class, or for possible submission into a numnber of magazines.... whichever. Currently reading Beloved, and I am loving it. I know, I know, I should probably have already read that by now... but I'm a late bloomer.


Freewrite 8,949

Falling in love again with the sounds of the stereo
the horns dancing in the background as I tap
tap tap to epiphany
"I can end the planet in a holocaust"
It's eerily familiar and frightening and invigorating.
the idea that me, just me, little ol me could change the world
with an idea
it's strange and it makes me hungry

Grad School

It's starting to scare me.

Old Soul

On October 31, 2008, I will be 23. Now this is no major feat for me. In fact, it seems almost a quickly passing thought as I have already watched the important ages of 'adulthood', 18 and 20, and come and go. But for the third time in two days, someone has remarked on how young I am. It comes as a major surprise that I will only be 23. My supposed age has ranged from 28-30-beyond. Interesting. Very interesting. Yes, I've always concerned myself at a certain level of maturity, but certainly not 'old'. Don't be mistaken, I am excited about the prospect of being 30 and so on. I've always been intriguied with mature women and look forward to wearing my mid life proudly. It's just funny, that no matter the amount of time spent on trying to laugh, dressing appropiately for my age, and overall foolishness I get into, I am still too old.

The last of the "wow" remarks was made this morning during my audition. After stumbling and rushing through my poem about domestic abuse, the director sat me down to tell me there was no part for me in the play. Then went on to explain that the only character he was considering me for was the grandmother. LOL. The mother/grandmother role has always been mine... in almost every production I've ever done. I went on to tell him about my upcoming birthday and he stared a minute. " Well, I would like to have you come back and read the grandmother's part then. Unless of course any more mature actors come in. You seem to be a modern, mature 2008 woman. How do see yourself?" Of course I made one last desperate grasp at the young role of a sex kitten bar keeper, and he politely said I could read for that part as well. "Obviously, I don't know your range, but we could certainly try it." It was amusing.

I wonder how people honestly see me. When I look in the mirror, I see a young, beautiful woman who is still fresh and green and learning about all that surronds her. When others look at me, I can never match up the things they say they see, with what I know.

I know I'm not insecure as most, but I am insecure nonetheless. I am not conservative, by any means. Still learning my street smarts and just now becoming accustomed to my odd sense of self. But considering the recent comments... no wonder men my age tended to seem uncomfortable under my gaze or hesitant to approach me. They thought I was older.

When I first met Ray, what stuck out from the very beginning was his amazing ability to look me right in the eye and make me blush. His willingness to take the lead and make the first move. No one had ever thrown me off my power play before. I have yet to meet a young man his age who likes to dance in the middle of the str

Grindin...

• Thankful for the last few days and how beautiful they have been.


• Thankful for the spur of creativity and inspiration


• Thankful for getting a chance to meet Gnarls Barkley and get some knowledge off em.


• Thankful for the people who support me and believe in me.


• Thankful for a chance to meet more family and be there for my dad and Aunt Mary's family at the funeral. She was a woman who lived a full and lovely life, and I can only hope to be like her.


• Thankful for the Internet dammit! I don't know what I would do without it!


• Thankful for dad and all he has done to make sure me and my sis's have the best education.


• Thankful for my mother and all she has done to make sure we keep in touch and develop family love.


• Thankful for my friends, who have been incredible soundboards and even better reflectors.


• Thankful for my future success, because I do believe that there will be success!

Just been working on getting this tour off the ground. School work, which incredibly, I am still doing well in! I am making it to classes and in a good enough mood to pay attention during class and when I am studying.

Don't ask me to explain it, I barely understand myself, but working a 'job' and going to school just doesn't work for me. I become to involved and worry about my job more than my job. My life becomes centered around what free time I will have after work. I hate that. I'm doing everything my powers not to be that.

Just stickin the pen to the paper and lettin' loose!

This moment is loose on the page.

Caught in the off beats of song.

Climaxing, again and again, over the sensuous undertones.

Politically speaking, this is mutiny.

Self Control is key, and she

poem/moment

whatever she be

is Righteously Rebellious.

The Experience Tour 2008

So, my Great Aunt passed this week. I am just getting back to Ray's after spending the afternoon, crying, laughing, dancing, making love, meeting family, and spittin' some poetry. It is a wonderous feeling, this completeness that surronds me. I have been wary for awhile, ignoring the gut and going for the safe and small. Well now, I'm tired of waiting. I met Gnarls Barkeley yesterday during a program with the Grammy Academy, and what they said and what my cousin from Virginia said are echoing loudly in my mind.

Gnarls Barkeley: "Work for yourself. Nobody's going to give you a free hand out, and most of the time, they will only support you if they know you're going to do this on your own, one way or another. Be unique and be persistent!"

Marian: "Stop ignoring that voice and do it! You've got something to offer and we're proud of you!"

I'm ready, big ol' universe, for something fantastic to occur in my life!
I'm ready for success!
I'm ready to listen and grow and change and become all that it is I was meant to become!

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The Experience Tour 2008 featuring Spoken Word Artists Michelle Desiree, Faylita Hicks, Stacie Shea, and Selah Vie, will be kicking off December of 2008!
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It is my personal opinion that this is the perfect moment to do something different. Such as listen to my gut and walk the path so perfectly laid before me. This is my passion. This is my calling. To spit is not just a gourging of emotions, it is a way in which to bring a community together and tell the stories that inspire us to continue from day to day. This is God speaking through me and to me and about me. Excuses are over rated and faith unconfided in.

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A Poet's Tribe Productions will be celebrating the New Year with a Premiere Production! Expect to get the experience of a lifetime!
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These are my dreams here, in my hands. The lines faded and knuckles cracked and bleeding.
These are my stories and my hopes and my desires, leaking like rivers into canyons crossed. These are my wings, muscles tightened and pumping and ready to stretch and dip and dive into something incredible.
These are mine. This here, this moment, is mine.

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The most incredible gifts you can give a lost soul, is an ear and a pen and a pad. Give them the choice to speak on it. -Workshops on Writing, Stage Presence, Inspiration now available.
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Did I say I was hittin' the dusty trail? Pickin up my sense of self and letting her take the wheel? Did I mention I was just on MLK, soaking up the highbeams of some SUV, when it occured to me... the light was green. How long had I been waiting for that?

Musings

The secret to life is... keep breathing. I think.

This has been a lovely weekend of writing and reflection and observation. I've got some great beginnings for new poems, some great edits and feedback and look forward to having them all nicely cut up and prepared for their debuts.

I'm reading this incredibly inspiring book by Jane Hirschfield for my poetry class, and it's definitely help me to keep an open mind. I find myself more and more preferring my own company or that of a book. Gives me enough time to really jump into concentration and discover exactly what poems and thoughts and images and statements are laying wait in my fingers.

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My voice is currently very gone, due to Friday Night Lights and being sick and all of that fun jazz... Have to spend the week recuperating and working on ways to make it till pay day.

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Wondering what I should do for 1) my 23rd birthday on Halloween... needs to be awesome!
2) Election Day- I want to be somewhere, with some peeps, digesting numbers on CNN and sipping something
3) The Heroes Premiere: yes, I am an avid Heroes fan, and I freakin love comics... I love nerds... really.
4) For dinner tonight. I'm like really hungry. Have literally sat here since 11 am, writing and editing all of poetry and now it's like 7pm. Right, so I'm gonna go get a life, a snack, and do some homework.

Peace and Nuts and Berries!!!!!

Run On's

There's something to be said for reflection. It has only been five years since I graduated from high school, yet it seems as if the entire world has changed completely. People with children, married, in another country, teaching, modeling, passed away. It's intensely wonderful to watch this journey. Even people in college, their lives have changed dramatically in the last few years. Why should I be surprised though, when my own life has taken as many turns as it has? Looking back, even if it's only to yesterday, keeps me up on perspective. Gives me a reason to appreciate wherever it is that I am.

*The safety of Ray and his friends after Hurricane Ike.
*My poetry class, in which I am learning that I am not alone in this struggle for better understanding.
*The patience of people who are willing to work with me as I struggle to 'survive' my bills.
* The way the last few days have felt against my skin, cool calm and romantic.
* Finally connecting on another level with him.
*The opportunity to make money doing something on my bucket list- work at a haunted house!
*Encouraging words and advice from my professor concerning my poetry and Grad school.
*Seeing my younger sister make mistakes and learn from them.
*The freedom and time to write this.



Family Is

Polaroids, crusted along the plastic edges.
Hues hinted at and fading into the broken lines of each other.
Voices whispering across the creased smiles of mother and children.
Hearing the last time we ate a dinner as a family, and laughed,
Whole.

Daddy at the head of the table, mommy at the tail, and children all in a row.
The last time we all sat at a table, I think.
I don't remember it.
I must've been very young.

Remember the last time we shared jokes or the last time we made fun of horror flicks or the last time we went on a field trip to the store for ice cream.
I don't remember it. The pictures say 1987, and 1994, and October 30, 1997.
It's some time after that now.

My mom likes to pretend we still should get together and have dinner around the table.
Her stand in is much better than the original, she promises.
"Call him papa!"
I call him Daniel.

Daddy sits us at the table and takes his plate to the counter. "Don't ruin the glass, use a place mat. You can't sit on the couch like that, it's leather. Don't pet the puppies, they bite."

He thinks he's real chill. "Real laid back", when honestly, he's just as guarded as a stranger with no idea how to play with kids. His treasures, cleaned daily, set perfectly in order, are never to be touched. His house, a museum of what might of been if hadn't been for my bitch of a mother.

My bitch of a mother, hates that sinner of a father. No good cow he is. And we'll end up just like him if we don't watch out.

Home for the holidays. Which way is that?


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Two years ago, I made up my mind to make a home. Called to me my sisters from their various corners of Texas and had a 3 foot tree with dollar store presents and chocolate and stockings. Rented movies and handed over the remote. It snowed slightly that time... I remember it was cold. And one sister isn't allowed back in my home ever again. And Christmas is a burden now I'd rather not have honestly. I never have enough cash, never have a home to visit, and always spend the New Years evening wishing I hadn't tried to go out, but just sat at the house, in front of the tv, alone.

One day, I want to be Big Mama, and I want people to come to me for the Holidays.

Grateful List Septemeber 10, 2008

Things I am grateful for this morning:
*True love, in it's endearing form, finding its way to me at last
*The encouragment of wise individuals whose words linger always
* My new pet crabs: Marcus and Billy Bob, something about pets that connect
*The helpfullness of my professors, providing great valuable feedback on my work
*My Ford Focus: that little trucker just keeps going on without a shame in the world
*My new skateboard and pen from Ray: he reminds me to stay young for as long as I can
*My new Weight Watcher's group, keeping me focused on my goals for myself and my body
* Real friends: they are so hard to find, and such a blessing once their found


Alot I want to write about now, but class waits for me on campus and I still need to morph into a student.

Adios

GSS

Last night was just what I needed. For the last three years, I have been a committed member of my service organization, ADIEHARD if you will. I was constantly heralded as the Ride and Die chick in the click... it was in my nature.

In my opinion, if you're gonna be about something, you need to be about something, right? Well, I believed in community service and I believed that one could grow exponentially through their work with the community. I still do honestly, but I came to the realization that I have grown as much as I can here. At this moment. Strange for me, I always had such grand ideas for the chapter, but I'm done.

There is a time when things stop growing and start deteriorating. Being a member of the 'old school' officially, I've noticed a general decay in the amount of respect and sisterly relations. The strive to be the best at what we do is completely missing, and the only thing people seemed to be inspired by is numbers, cash and members. It's not what I'm about and it hit me that this depressed and stressed feeling that has plagued me for months now, is in some way related to this chapter.

Most do not understand my extreme loyalty to a group of familiar strangers and my obsession with mission statements and purposes, but it stems from my background in the church. I take words and letters and statements to heart. So when I made the decision to join, I made a life decision. I am like this in all areas. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. One of the reasons I respect Ray so much is because of his similar mentality towards such things. He's a man of his word, honestly. It's beautiful.

So yeah, after a dangerously uninspiring first meeting in which the general group arrived late, casually dressed, and commenced to texting throughout the entire time, I came to the conclusion that it was definitely time to go. I can't be the only who wants us to be a success, things don't work that way. And I can't waist anymore of my inner peace trying to keep us afloat.

I was suppose to be President this year, but I have no desire any longer to lead a group of half hearted and young minded individuals who have yet to show up prepared to work. My org was there before me and it will be there after.

So last night's neo soul was much more about letting go and being honest for me. Enjoying the scene, partaking in the atmosphere and breathing. Experiencing the moment versus rushing through it to get to the next one. It was fun and just what I needed.

List Idea I stole from Michelle...

I love the idea and I can't help but find it serendipitous that I saw it on ms. michelle's page... I need to get out of the habit of being a depressed punk all the time and making sure I can find something to be grateful about every week might help. I'm a sucker for those pick me up anecdotes...

- waking up and knowing I'm not broke, I'm not hungry, and I'm not sick
-people who teach me more about myself and how i can be a better person everytime I see them
- patience
- his unconditional love that inspires the change in me
- hard lessons learned, finally
- classes starting, the beginning of the end of this chapter of my life, finally
- neo soul, it's changed me, permanently
- paying the bills and keeping my car
- new friends and old friends, found and lost
- trips down 290 E
- Visiting UH, the place I pray is meant for me.
- Romantic and surprising dates
- hope for something bigger and better
- A chance to change

I've had a lovely weekend with the love of my life and for the first time and years, I'm relaxed. Truly chill and alright with not having every little minute planned to a detail. I've had ridiculously crazy sex, fun foods, kinky desserts and plenty of conversation with the someone special.

I wonder...why has it been so hard to stop being in control of every situation? I mean, not like I had to be Ms. Take Over, but I've had a hard time letting go of the past. It's controlled me, consumed me even. I can't remember a time when my decisions weren't wholly based on something that trans passed in my recent history. It's not healthy. Holding onto all that baggage... and I don't want it anymore.

I dream about becoming a scholar. A hip, crazy haired, scattered brained, eccentric scholar who thrives off of firsthand research and can speak various lost languages. I dream of getting lost in some Forest off of some coast or another. Getting married on a Greek island. Storms at sea, midnight salsa in Mexico, getting caught up in the view from the top of some mountain...

It's one reason I want to become more healthy. I want to the time and the body to do all this stuff. Visit all these places before I go. I know, I am rambling... it happens when you're bored/waiting for someone. I'm all dolled up and getting ready to visit UH. The place where I hope to be attending Grad school. Grad school, a PHD, the impossible dream for somebody like me. It would be incredible to walk across that stage and become Dr. Hicks-Courtney. I mean, how many people get the opportunity? I have this crazy once in the life time chance to fully indulge in this fantastic educational experience and become a more thorough poet. Awesome!


Work in progress poem below...

Field Spirits
Moments, lay dormant.
Stop your incessant ticking.

Breathe, hold.
Release unease and tension.

Remember us for a second.

Invoke we field spirits.
Call us by name, by blood, by transgression.

Sheer layers of memory laced along the foundations of this house.
This temple to the gods of small town America.
Spearheaded priests and priestesses.
Their chants and hymns sung solemnly from dawn till dusk.
Chants and hymns sent to us field spirits.
"Come carry the water! Come lay on my bed!"

Their whips, for cattle to be sacrificed, covered in dried flakes of blood.
Stories braided into the leather.
The mouth of one slave slacked against the neck of another.
One vanilla cream colored demon and one muddied angel.
Moans curled and collapsed in the corners of this room,
as one gave Hell,
and the other went Home.

Bones lay raggedly across the hills of this foreign land.
Death and love locked in the turning blades of grass.

And they wonder why we shake our hips and laugh.
We've seeped into the seams of books and minds.
The legends of our lives retold time after time.

It means we field spirits will never die.

My head's already buzzing with all the things I want to write, all of the ideas. A story about women. A story about men. Stories I use to read. Lately, I've really been trying to read as much as possible and I am loving it! I am remembering exactly how much I love a good story. A good read. To get all lost in the hints and details of a good plot. Believe it or not, I started off writing short stories before poetry. Poetry felt like a cop out to real writing for awhile. You know, everyone can write some sembelance of a poem, but not everyone keep intrigued in the story.

Hmmm...

I'm still young enough to dream big dreams. Still young enough to make mistakes that can somehow be corrected, maybe.

Woke up this morning inspired and ready to clean this disaster of a room I live in. Make breakfast, wash clothes, sort through loads of random shit, that when ordered correctly, somehow create this accurate picture of me. Pictures of my mom when she was 17, when she was my age, when she was here three years ago. Pictures of an old boyfriend, the last two I didn't burn because I thought it might be a great story to tell my daughter one day. My sisters, back when there was still time...

Now, everything seems fast forwarded and akward. I don't know what to say to them. Everything either comes out as advice or chastisment. I can't relax around them. I remember that one time that I sat in my apartment in Austin. My electricity was out and rent was past collection. Strange men were still coming to the door at all hours of the night and I seemed forgotten by the people who mattered most to me in my bit of the world. I was lonely. And scared, but mostly lonely.

I assured myself that a new point of view was all I needed, and that moving away would be great. I could just take a back pack and what little bit of money I had and got on a bus to some other city. I wish I had been brave enough to do that. But I wasn't. I wrote letters to each member of my family, telling them I would disappear for a few years, and then return. Told them I loved them, despite all the faults. I would miss them, sort of.

But fear, and my horrible habit of reasoning every move kept right where I was. I was obligated to do this and do that and stay right where I was. I'm still scared. Moving right within the lines... I think about all of the people I've met.

My chest is heavy with the burden of responsibility. I've always envied the free living, the travelers, the lovers, the spirits free roaming the world. Wanting to let go, like them and do what I want. When I want. How I want!

This burden to blend in... to forgive... to appreciate and notice and take over those around me... weighs so heavy sometimes. But what about me? How did I get so lost in this process of do for others?

Not that these are horrible things, just that sometimes they keep me from truly developing.
I'm scared.

Grad School

So I'm scared...like extremely...wtf do I think I'm doing scared. It's Grad School and it's poetry. Who does that? It's like literary suicide to say I want to be a Poet. Poet's don't make money. Poet's are categorized forever as sensitive souls and they are rarely recognized until long after their deaths... and I'm a Woman! WTF!

Okay, now that I've got that out of my system...lol. Really though, what's to come of the young girl with no sure clear path in front of her. It's like every morning I wake up, I go searching for the next clue to life's great mystery puzzle challenge. And sometimes I find it, and sometimes I don't.

Love

I'm in Love. Not kind-of-I-think-this-might-be-the-one love, but Love. The I've-Always-Been-His-Wife-We-Were-Made-To-Fit-Like-This Love. I can't see myself anywhere else, with anyone else. It's amazing. Despite all my failed attempts to push him away with my meddlesome emotions and plaguing problems and heavy ass baggage, I'm in Love and he's still here.

The trial of suffering come from the passage of time in Depression has finally passed and here on the otherside, is him. The answer was so simple. So clear. Just let go and fall. And since I've been falling, I've been seeing all sorts of things amazing.

Life is simply this moment, this opportunity every morning to wake up an doing something different. To not just let people pass through our lives like ghosts ships, haunting regrets left dangling in the shadows of our past. But to embrace every chance, everything!

I woke up today and decided I wanted to be happy. Despite everything that will come, I want to be happy, and I don't want to look back and see everything I missed out on. I want to say I did everything I could.


An Old Woman
Let me die an old hag in my bed.
Fingers aching and cracked and creased.
Back crooked and feet callussed.

I'll die with my eyes open.
Sunlight scorching the hallows of my leathered cheeks.
Catching the twinkle in my gums.

I'll look directly into the sun,
and tell my children what I saw in there.

Let my brow be heavy with sweat,
from running by the river
or from a heated afternoon of lovemaking
in the bathroom
or from the churning,
done in rememberance of some ancestor or another.

I want to be exhausted.
Catching my breath, for just a moment
Before letting it slip away in the faint chuckles
of one last good laugh.

Let my house be teeming with people
from all over the world
their hurried stories of wild treasure chases
and lost loves
and war
echoing into the rafters of my creaking home
built with my hands
and following me to the place beyond this one.

Let me die in his arms
Feeling his lips cowering above mine
grazing the corners of my mouth
pressing, earnestly against my hot breath.

His fingers resting atop my haulted breast.
Staring with me into the oncoming Change,
whispering my name once more
as I exit out the door
and take his voice to the Heavens.

Faylita H.