rush hour flood, or heart storm

i know what
that feels like
moments of distress
abandonment
in a rush hour crowd
that feels like
walking
through mind storms
flooded by sorrow
unspoken
ignoring
voices in the wind
a need to be not seen
well meant but alien
well wishes but unknown
i know this
runs like
water in a creek.

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Oops for May 2019

My 30 day writing stunt was a bust–grades, meetings, and health got in the way. So I will relaunch in June for 2019, and I will start off with a couple of podcasts, one of which will be focused on poetry coming from me and a guest who has a poetic voice not often heard or seen.  My tongue is still healing but it’s no longer as swollen, thank you very much. The bruise on my thigh is fading quickly.  No, not healing from bike riding issue–just gave away my bike–just a fainting spell from perimenopause.

Yeah…….ever kind of feel like this is the now, as in now is the time to get your best work out there, to do your best while you can still do it, while your mind, spirit, and body are still allowing you to say it do it be it in that moment or those moments? This is what 50-something feels like to me. Time to get those books floating in my head out of me, those brilliant crazy courses planned out and launched, dreams becoming reality. So I keep running into these essays about people losing it, getting it back, etc.etc., and I’m like, what the fuck am I waiting for?

So……some may say I skipped the motherhood part from maiden and went straight to crone, but I say I am a Mother in my classroom and to the collective. I could say that I am not quite ready to say I am crone for a couple of reasons, but then again, could it be that one can be maid, lover, mother, and crone in one space? Sometimes we occupy these roles as needed. Some of us didn’t become mothers for whatever reason–our magick remains potent, our poetry far reaching.

Watch this space in June.  Support my brand:  https://cash.app/$drcat

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Whew! Thank goodness it’s Friday June 1!

Well folk, this year’s May 30 day challenge is now officially at an end, but not my creative writing. As I am on a deadline for completing a chapter for an anthology on digital humanities plus doing grant workshops to prep for a larger grant on the same topic I will be taking a break for a couple of weeks.  Do read this month’s work—it will be part of a book. I will be back to expand on these works and with new short fiction this summer as I build my manuscript. Please do click on my PayPal button to support me and the build of my collection. And let me what you want more of. Tell your friends to come read my work too.

Thank you for being a very engaged and active audience!

Love, Cherie Ann Turpin aka Afrofuturism Scholar

 

Who is the “you” and “I” in my poetry?

So, if you happen to know me, you may be wondering if I’m talking about you, or someone close to me or you. The answer is no. Yes. Maybe. Maybe not. Who gives a fuck? I’m writing about human experience and what we endure while living on this planet. I do include my twisted imagination and twisted reality and twisted feelings. I’m pretty strange in my flesh n blood world, so if my writing makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, welcome to my world. I might write about you one day. Let the world beware, said Catherine Tramell.

The Month is almost up. Not sure I feel like doing this in June. Holla at me and tell me.

Oh, and I’ve been holding back a bit. Look for me to just get straight up weird these last days.

almost halfway, readers! #30days #30days2018

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Hope you are enjoying my May writing rush–I know I am. Some of these works actually sat for almost two decades before I brushed off the dust and reworked them to reflect my growth as a writer. I had a poet once tell me to write poetry and put it away for a few years before returning to it. I resented the advice at the time, but I think Marilyn Nelson was correct all along. Some of these works are brand new, but I’ll keep it to myself what’s new and what’s old. It’s all new, given the work I’ve done to all of the fiction and poetry. And if you are wondering if I’m going to put together a collection, the answer is yes. Not sure how to work the flash fiction in, but I’m open to trying new things. Not sure about the essays, but I’m open to suggestions. I think it’s long overdue for another book publication on my terms.

In any case, look for more work to show up between the 15th and the end of the month, with an intent to keep going long after the #30day rush. Please leave comments and, of course, leave a tip in my PayPal link.

Cherie Ann aka Afrofuturism Scholar

language of fixation aka your gaze

I’ve thought about and pondered
how often you cum
all over your hairy lanky thighs
looking at and thinking about my ass
you love to stare at me
you squeeze my womanflesh
imagining a soft downy quim
you watching a woman walk
big round ass thighs
wearing tiny bikini panties
ass jiggling about
hardly or not contained in the thin fabric
ass cleavage riding revealing ass cheeks
painted bikini panties ass jiggle
not contained in wispy fabric
you flowing white milk on your hard thighs
you want to see those cheeks separating
revealing tight anal rosebud
and underneath
the softer wet rose petals
your thick veined hand
pushing me down
on my stomach spreadeagled
pulling me apart
how long would you just stare at me
do you want your cum
spraying all over yourself
or between my ass cheeks
or inside my ass
or inside my pussy
tell me what you think is happening
does it make you angry
seeing your body language
overprocessed
forced to focus
questioning the whole thing
there are no buts but butts
your language
rewired rebooted rebuttal
forced to focus again and again
requestioning
what does it mean to see your language
remastered remixed
are you capable of seeing yourself
as I see you
going down this path
between my ass cheeks
searching for a way inside
freeing yourself
you are moving
this is real
you know my body
you know my soul
you know the truth
of sliding up behind me
grinding yourself up against my ass
you know what you are going to do
no need to stop
love you feeling me
you moving
sliding up behind me
grinding yourself up against my ass
no need to stop
more than watching
more than admiring
miniskirts and fleshy thighs
you have to feel that reality
walk inside
I am waiting.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

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The Power of Looking Back

 

I suspect that you look at me
out of mere curiosity or pleasure
that you are hoping
that I will see you looking
that I will look back at you
and turn away before your eyes meet my face once again.

Yes, I am quite certain of it now
you want this to happen
though we have yet to speak
your eyes linger much too long
for me to conclude that it is nothing, at all
and so I malinger on a fantasy of what
that look could possibly mean
and now the look is a gaze
and the gaze becomes a stare
and soon I am compelled to stare back
and with a brazen gesture I was never taught
I lick the crevice on my full bottom lip and smile at you

knowing
knowing
the power of looking
back.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.