So I've just opened the blind from my extended stay hotel, that I can barely afford, and let the day in. It's almost noon, in Aurora, and part of me feels like a fool for grabbing what I could, not paying my rent, and hopping in my car to try and find a new life, west of where I was living. Omaha, was done with me, and I was done with Omaha.

Now in Aurora, stressing until I can get some stability. And I understand that money ain't everything, but I'm quickly running out of what I had. This was not the reality check that I had expected, but it's what I got, so a brotha is tryin' to stay positive and let The Most High do his work. I know that I'm a work in progress, and The Most High has been helping me out, but patience is not one of my strong points.

I will go out tonight and perform at the slam, hopefully make some good connections, and find somewhere to stay past Wednesday. I have cd's to sell, and having good product is good, but I would feel safer with an actual job. I've never been a believer in myself, enough to start my own business, or hit the road to do this poetry thing. Even now I am feeling like all this was a mistake, but I have no other choice.

Monday I will go to Art from Ashes and speak with the people there, then hit up Ted at Argonaut, and probably call someone at the Catholic charities for some assistance. Also I'm debating about going to sell some plasma--probably will do that too. I also realized that while I have two forms of picture ID, I do not have my birth certificate, or ssn card, I feel like I'll be homeless come Wednesday.

So this is my blog, this is where I am; Aurora, jobless, running out of money, short on patience, faith in The Most High, preparing for a open mic, and scared. Having faith in The Most High, I go forth with my day experiencing what comes next.

ok, so i've been getting spamed out comments....it's not helpful people. also i made a mistake and quit both my jobs. so now it's like a poetry gig is hella needed...or a day job...anyone know of anything let me know...my rent is already about a half month behind...so, uh, yea, i need some dough quick!...and please don't spam, if u dig the poetry cool, if not cool, but no more ads and links. thanks.

no mo' niggas
posing as kids
posing as students
posing as human.
no need to
waste time teaching
niggas

mico-managed
under microscopic
lenses
by micro-minded
black imp
who reminds me
of
the dog from Gargoyles,
Panthro from Thundercats,
and the sellout that snitched
on the Black Panthers

Some couldn't past the
1st stanza, 1st line, 3rd word.
There's a difference
in my view; no need to
retire a word, when
the people still exist.
When Ozzie Davis
eulogized Bro. Malcolm
he said
Bro. Malcolm had stopped being Negro,
long ago.

and sometimes
there's a random burst
of Beauty, Blackness, Culture, Soul
wakinging your spirit
just before 9am
almost powerful enough
to stir you from your seat
dreams from a child, spoken aloud
can do that sometimes.

so called administrator,
administering to the affairs
of children "at-risk"
so called "African-American,"
but he's the
biggest nigga; and I
don't mean the HNIC or
Never Ignorant Getting Goals Accomplished
nigga--
he's the
kiss whitey's ass, grant writin'/50 inch flat screen t.v.
buyin, lyin', sayin' it's for educational purposes, soapbox
standin', grand-standin' for ego expandin' goals--gatherin'
information for the sake of integratin', while destroyin' the
foundation of a strong black nation, sell your ass down the
river for a gold ring & pension
type nigga.
he's the worst,
type nigga.

wonder if she know
how much
she favors her father and mother
& look like her mama and daddy.
she is living, breathing "90's Omaha"
grew up w/her pops--
who she can't have contact with
knew her mom and
dated her auntie
she catches me up on time lost
between
when I knew them then
and
how I know her now.

how does it not become
boring, redundant, repetitve, recycled.
500 square miles=the city; 50 sq. mi.=the north side
so self segregated; most comfortable
where bullets fly most--
so says the media, so perceived by
misperceivers.....

9:40, new class, less quiet, more active;
they cheat on an ungraded
pre-test--3/4 do at least.
Loud like they've been
drinking; half ass reciting rap songs
from ipods, he shouldn't have
in the 1st place.
eyes heavy from the repetitive
conversations and phrases:
"Oh you gusto" and
"On my hood" and
"Fuck dat, dat's some bullshit"

By the p.m. it's
continued disrespect &
drudging; Loud knocks,
208, 9, and 10; again and again.
Something 'bout full potential
being wasted
comes to mind (.....daily)
Easy passin' 6 & 1/2
like a church mouse
on sunday mornin'.

Ghetto blatant is
17 yr old, workin' on a
second son, cell phone
out in school, in the
middle of the floor
workin'; tongue-tied to
crickets, chirp chirp,
chirp chirp;
Don't feed the animals.

Silence is golden
& sleep platinum.....

@ 4:49, on a snow-day, following people

and then it just
stopped.
or,
i stopped & it kept
going;
find myself on the
outside;
the side where i thought
the most good
was to be done, but now
conscience/conscious crashed w/
capitalism
& i’m somehow on the run;
running backwards
away from my past
trying to change my
present
in hope the future
brings dreams;
because the 1st
gave hope misinterpretations &
somehow gave light
to this matrixed reality;
10 years past optimistic
thought
only spring chickens
start new businesses
not old ducks;
every a-hole has a resume
& breaks are given
to illiterate children—
love hip-hop?
cultivate categories of
culture
like slots in cash
registers; but
b.a.’s give change
of washington’s,
not franklin’s
and facebook
quote/ unquote
sold its soul
to a bank that was bailed-out
but now has billions
to spend?
somethin’ ain’t addin’ up,
someone ain’t addin’ right…..
no one thinks deeper
than a twitter
tweet.

©2011 C. Barbee

They say,
beauty is in
the eye
of the beholder....

I love the fact
that people pre-judge
just upon the appearance.
Intelligent or ignorant,
we conclude, label, & base
questions for a conversation on
preconceived perceptions....

Some of my students think
I'm Muslim,
because the positive
light we leave
brotha Malcolm in;
I don't yell, holler, or
curse (that much)--
and reply to them
I'm not Muslim, I
respect many disciplines
of that belief system...
Other students think
I'm Rasta,
because of my long locs
(and often times)
un-kept beard;
however I correct them
yet again,
that too, is not my religion.
I do have friends
that teaches from
that end;
I respect the spectrum,
but to it,
I don't completely listen.....

In greater Omaha society,
the masses grant me
strange looks,
can't figure me to be
a Hari Krishna, thief, thug,
or crook.
Unimaginative, non-
cognitive, made sheep
of the
proletariat--
Belief in monotheism,
when even the beginnings
of that system,
I just can't agree;
however,
gain experiences through life
universally.

Cave Unknown

Unknown—
mind blown from
1st days,
teacher ways
got us writin’ poems.
So I’m flowin’,
4 lines like
4/4 time
waitin’ on lunch
ain’t fine—
look at my eye,
here’s my assignment
for this asinine
district.
Respect what I write,
as I balance your
broken English on
3 wheel motion,
in this wretched city.
29 South my conundrum,
poppin’ roadside protocals
my expertise in fire, ain’t dignified.
But still I tithe—
money free,
Most High ain’t concerned
about Hamilton, Lincoln,
or Grant on the 50.
Call me filthy
for I am a
work in progress.
All week financial stress,
my Monday – Friday
freshly pressed.
Stayin’ positive
on pedagogy’s path
placing young cerebellum’s
in the circumference of success……
say somethin’ negative and
watch for a cave in your chest;
because shawtie, this here just be
the 1st week.

©2010 Clarence Nabraska Barbee

Mamas Ain’t Suppose to Raise Capitalists

Not too literal;
hidden between
metaphors.

Pause.
Choose constructs carefully.

Like having
goat—
for thanksgiving.
Still giving thanks,
still celebrating,
still recognizing the country
and history…..
yet something,
is not quite right.

A hue-man is
violated
way before
bedding down in a cell
for the night.
First—
flashing lights and sirens
for all to see and hear.
Next—
a public pat-down,
hand-cuffing comes along
like you’re
King-Kong on display,
and a hand is
placed upon your
head
as you’re told
next stop county jail.
Strip search, cavity search,
place belongings in plastic
as they hand you:
draws, socks, pants, shirt, shoes, blankets, and sheets.
(it always gets me they take
your underwear)
Humiliated yet??

Taught to share
as a tiny tike.
“Honor your mother and father,
and your days will be long
upon the land.”
By a teen
lessons of sharing
become fables
as competition takes hold
and you
have to
get yours.
Possess this and that,
possessions are key,
possess me, possess me, possess me……
just don’t get
possessed.—

a thin line between
love, capitalism, and insanity.

that’s My woman,
that’s My man,
….ending of american slavery, 1863—
right?

Is there
a choice in
trusting
your government??
Trust that they will
make rules for the
betterment;
trust,
they will
do as they say
and not as they do…..
anyone exempt of the rules?

Pause.

Whether
history, or police, parents, country, or god
what do you
trust?
what can you actually
possess?
do you believe in
sharing
or are you stable in the phrase
do as I say
not as I do.

Before you set sail
on any ship…..
make sure your
relations
are Right—
whatever Right is
to you;

then enjoy the conflicts
you’ll cross.

(c)2010 C. Barbee/Nabraska/AlienHead Productions