by Joe B.
Hectic pre holiday almost got away from me.
A few days previous mama emails me about sister-in-law and brother visiting for a short time because of a test he must take before heading back Chicago Illinois.
Hoping to be there for a day or two as June 30th and July 1st came and went only delaying my trip out of the City.
Picked up check, saved some, then to check cashing for money order to pay rent, phone, buy soap, bathing, and cleansing items getting for late night light meal across the bay getting out of the City for a few hours.
Then fouled up a meeting at least though I had before finding out later that the person in Berkeley went to L.A. unexpectedly so quickly they hadn’t time to leave a note, or email me about.
I blamed myself I'm really late and know what its like to wait and wait for someone.
Luckily all the trains, busses, are late giving me time to catch each one in turn arriving 11:35 or so.
Bed for me is a self-inflated mat with sleeping bag atop it, won’t matter I have entered z-land.
Early dawn loud bangs wake me sounding like gunfire.
My brother say’s "Stay down."
I’m not going anywhere to experience a raining bullets.
He called the police, explained what is happening but remembers it’s the 4th of July and called the police saying he realized what all the noise was about.
He later told all of us he was just one of 30 callers on the same night they had patrolled the area making sure no guns were being fired.
With friends, families, and a private Bar-B-Que and James Bond/Planet Of The Apes Marathon on a wide screen TV its all good.
All too soon on Saturday I had to return to San Francisco.
Leaving Fairfield early or midday would get me back to the City in time.
On the road by 12:26 noon bright midday I slept most of the time until I at my apartment by 2 am.
After watching them drive away I go home, dial mama to wake me up at 4:30 p.m., tell the Front Desk to wake me by 5 p.m."
"Son, 4:30."
"Thank you, Love you."
"Love you too." A long leisurely cleansing of body, floss, brush teeth, underarm deodorant.
Its convenient having a bus pass even if it costs 35 dollars and is about to go up.
By 6:28 I’m clean and ready with a few dollars to offer $5 to 10 or whatever I can pay.
Skipping the walking, looking and again the sinking feeling of being inappropriately late to a live theater happening.
Ms. Jazmine, one of the performer’s of Colored Ink And Brava! Present
WOMEN.
ALL PRAISE GIVEN WE’RE THE REASON WHY YOUR LIVIN.
A NIGHT OF SELF-LOVE AND EXPRESSION THROUGH SPOKENWORD AND OPEN INSIGHT.
I cannot judge art though one below to my right shows a woman of green I interpret as Gaia, a heart of gold for pure love another ahead of me is a black woman who’s full breasts invite she, nurturer, feeder of nations, and yes entices to feast if she chooses.
They first honor ancestors gone, living, and contemporaries they portray themselves and other
women as lesbian, straight.
Whatever orientation are shown as fierce, brave, strong, brittle, hurt, yet rising above all and despite cruelties, selfishness, deadly, cowardice, of both white, black and rainbow men.
Amazingly, love is still there though it is now tempered and men have to prove it in every action and deed.
If men let go of their on inner fears, false masculine machismo.
I cannot single out singers from poets, poets from dancers, and story tellers of heart churning tales of death, love, hate, survival, happiness, and yearning.
There is too much for me to absorb I pray these women were recorded for posterity as they did their live shimmering magic.
Ms. Dvorah Major, Poet Laureate (2002), Novelist, Essayist as featured guest speaker shatters the audience by sheer force of her wordsmith voice.
In the end there are questions/answers and Lisa who had come near the middle of first acts end is way more eloquent in her capacity as audience/journalist.
I thanked Ms. Jazmine and all the players on stage in my studious, stuttering, quiet, deference of their talents in slight fear and total awe.
Drinking tea, eating cookies I am ready to depart feeling weary ready for sleep literally rung out emotionally and slightly shaking from the deep performance what keeps standing isn’t stalwart male strength but the deep feminine in me that has from time to time scolded, laughed, cajoled, and kept me balanced when the male in me runs retreating from strong emotions it couldn’t handle so my female half holds me steady until
I safely arrived home.
Someday maybe balance can be between fem and male
but it must start from within each of everyone of us before becoming a normalized process just because one’s orientation differs from others does not negate our dual selves.
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Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org
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