Tuesday, April 26, 2011

phagwa fail


phagwa within a month of jouvay too good to be true, ent?
without caption, this photo suggest something completely unlike what actually happen. this photo suggest that me+tillah+al+makeda reach phagwa in chaguanas as planned and had a wonderful, joyous time. what actually happen is al had a time and got gorgeous photos and end up with a pink+green head but missing the crew, me+tillah wanted to kill our so-called friends and only reach as ting done after an afternoon of trials enough to bring 2tough women to the verge of tears, and makeda never reach at all- not that i have any damn symapthy for she at this point.
why? wabbiness. and it wasn't even keshav, for once.
i know i going phagwa since jouvay, me+al done talk, me+tillah done talk. as the day reach, i tell al i go roll with tillah and find him in chaguanas as he coming from couva. i link tillah, she say meet her by kesh, makeda driving up from there; check wanki+ria for a drop 'cause they supposed to come by kesh too. safe.
i hail wanki+ria, no answer. no scene. i eh business to travel by kesh- and is a good ting, 'cause walking from the busroute to kesh+shyam flat is all the phagwa i get in the end.
aranguez savannah had ting, i watching+walking, listening to tassa cutting in over the gyazette in my ears, make it halfway 'round the savannah and somebody squirt me with abeer by accident, all apologies. i turn+smile, knowing wha' i expect to look like in a few hours, and like that give everybody permission- old indian man run up on me, paint my face and anoint my head with yellow and while my eyes still closed, buss a kiss on my mouth and run away giggling.
i reach kesh, glad. tillah call to check i reach, she coming now, makeda supposed to pass for 3pm. kesh talking 'bout coming and we even get him to bathe before makeda reach to cut back the wait. we on it. 3.30pm come+go, no makeda, no answer on her phone. but then wanki finally wake up and call kesh, he+ria on the way now, then going 'guanas, so we say we might as well wait for them and all ride 1time. 4pm come+go, no makeda, no answer, no wanki+ria. we wait. after 4pm we finally hear back from wanki+ria, they hungry and now going by ria mudda to eat (i.e. still in town, so much for "en route"). we sour. finally get makeda on the the phone, she say she now done cook(!) and leaving to come for us. so we on. we wait. 4.30pm come+go and makeda was coming from 10minutes away. we wait. we go downstairs+outside so we could pile in and ride out 1time. we wait. 5pm reach, no makeda, no answer, no wanki+ria, me+tillah know we coulda travel ages ago and still had a real phagwa. al say ting swinging. we upset.
after 5pm kesh remember otto in his building wukkin on an a.c. so we check otto to see wha' he saying, if he wanna make the run as he have the truck. timing! he wrapping up, he go go. yay! as we waiting downstairs we see otto almost all the way upstairs to kesh top-floor flat, we hail him loud, he come all the way down, everyting seem to be happening ridiculously slow. otto ask us wha' phagwa like then say he wanna change clothes because he like what he have on, doh wanna lose it to abeer. i grind my teeth while kesh give otto a detailed description of every single option in kesh closet for otto to try+remember, and send otto back up the stairs to the top floor to change. i intervene and make kesh go with him to make the search faster+easier. but is keshav and a wardrobe change opportunity. them girls was another 15minutes while i tryna not cry in public.
we finally get in the truck, loving otto now, drive out, excitement building even though we doh expect to catch more than a 15minutes+dregs, if that. but we liming, have drinks, and en route. breathing again.
we in 'guanas, turning onto the road taking us straight to the nagar when al bbm, ting wrapping up...nooo!!! we so close...we say we going for the dregs and to at least get food, because me+tillah move same way, we know we was going phagwa and save we belly for indian treats whole day and now is 6pm and we starving. so we still going. we wait too long to not go.
then we meet the post-phagwa traffic leaving the nagar. i coulda cry the whole las' 15minutes of the trip; i only seeing people passing me grinning slashes of white across purple, red, fuschia, green, blue faces...we cyah get close because of the hordes of painted people leaving taking up our lane, al saying the nagar ground emptying, i so depressed. but we finally reach, my aranguez savannah yellow dry+crumbling.
i immediately get a cup of channa as the sky darkens, otto pelt me with some pretty pink powder, me+al walk down the road a little to find a house+land with a gate but no fence, like my uncle keith's...minutes later my unquenchable love of the inappropriate make me tell ravi-ji and some older ladies chatting with tillah+kesh about the day we missed all about my exchange with a youth man who accused me of feeling up his channa...an ironically sweet ending to a frustrating day right down to my post-phagwa skirt not being nearly as colourful as i hoped, now not to be worn again until nex' phagwa make it right...we saw some lagniappe revellers splashing themselves purple out of the back of a van but in the dark i knew their abeer was too cold for me and stayed away, jealous...i cyah get no...
...satisfaction...
walk good.

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Wednesday, April 20, 2011

endless rain into a paper cup...do it!

click the squares...walk good.

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Wednesday, April 13, 2011

trickle down aspirations; trickle up economics

big-up mar for directing me to this article; thought it did a good job of illuminating connections too many pretend doh exist and/or doh affect us all. those at the top of the economic ladder only think they can indefinitely ignore the rest of us.
walk good.

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Thursday, April 07, 2011

erotica-in-progress

her body is beauty finally revealed, every time
every time is a first time, first time in the history of firsts, of time itself
curves like lush hillsides, smooth brown skin almost green in homage, areolas are bursts of poui blossoms puckering in mouth-warmed winds, lips are kisses even without contact.
her body is its own world of softness and soft heat inviting and enticing, inciting and delighting, while eyes try to hide their warmth, try to hide their depth, hide behind hair, under hair, inside hair, inside my mind, eye in my mind building desire…
she is beauty revealed, finally
finally showing herself delicately wrapped in love and lights turned down low, cautiously venturing her heart, her all silently breathing at its heels, everything even more than possibly imagined, more beautiful, more eternal, this gift.
finally, beauty revealed to my mind and hand
palpable
sensible to feeling as to light
touch elevated, fingers become feathers become tongues, liquid limbs become leather straps gripping and groping, grabbing each others flesh, curves, flowering hillsides, sliding on skin lightly moistened with sweet sweat, neck arched impossibly fragile strong shoulders heaving jaw fighting biting air as she twists she bucks she comes for the first time, first time of many this time, first death, life, universe birthed into damp nothing pulsing with the potential of being, she mounts straddles rides climbs her way up into highest wildest jungle, tangling hands in hair, hair and hands everywhere like breath panting into hidden ears, onto thighs rising into heaven crashing pounding river flowing gushing rushing pushing up+outward ever rising spilling…

…crickets’+cocquis’ hallelujah chorus fade into silence with consciousness…

walk good.

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