sustaining transformative love

home of artistic responses, interventions, creations and celebrations: this is the place where we reimagine community. this is the way that we make a loving world.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

I'mma Heal ME

And you think you know ME… cause you saw a girl like ME… in a book by an anti-ME, who sniffed MY shit when he was in school.
Don’t get it twisted…
Anthropology don’t mean you know ME
My badd to the anthropology degree

And you think you can heal ME… cause you know the man who killed ME, riddled MY life with “what if “ hypothesis.
His DNA charging you with scrutiny, you performed your duties well…
Serving up invisibility… you smother ME in flowery blankets of muli-cultural
Selling pre-fabricated images in Ninth Street shops
Sowing hollow seed to deplete mal-nourished souls
You spread mad cow diseased shit over ME and kill fertile soil… tip-toeing between ME and MY self

You don’t know nuthin bout ME
And My SIRvival names your destiny

And when dawn breaks I am Sun kissed Sankofa
Snug hugged, sista loved
Head nestled in a napped neck bathed in hints of Peacefire oil.
I’m plotting revolution with six forks in a five dollar piece of sweet cream pie,
and meeting Audre through Lex
as Zach pumps Sweet Honey through my veins
I am strong now
I am fed
Nourished through poets writers and song
Booty windin Hips grindin to Lauryn cause
Hell yeah “ You just lost one”
And Aiden and ME…
We pick steel door dead bolt locks for Patty Sue
Cause we know
Freedom Looks like squirrels mating on rooftops,
and mama birds nesting in second story dryer ducts
Creating home despite your destruction.
Outside the big box, where Ubuntu grows.
I got ME
So if you think you know ME cause you saw a girl like ME in a book
Think again

Friday, November 10, 2006


Join us at The Anvil Room in Greensboro NC for the second ever-evolving installment of....

Traveled Bodies: Policing Blackness and the Technology of State Violence (A HERstorical Improvisation)

email me for more information

We are not gravel roads. We are not target practice bull's eye. We are not husky muted flesh. We are living ligament and beating heart. We are not rope juice. We are not field seasoning. We are not sharpeners for dry molars. We are bright travelers, swollen moon and beauty that chants down our birth right.
-e. golden

Traveled Bodies: Policing Blackness and the Technology of State Violence (A HERstorical Improvisation) is a multimedia meditation on the pervasive tapestry of police brutality as it progresses from slavery to now. The artists pay homage to the revolutionary women arts movement, our resilient bodies who continue to create under this haunting violence, and our sisters and brothers locked up in modern day plantations here and abroad.

a luta continua!