2010partyover! Oops! Outta time?

2009! You deserve a proper send off. A hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a "fuck you", as you bounce off of the right foot of my fury! It's been a decade to remember, forget, shit on, and be thankful for...I won't fit all, but some of what I can gather.

Well, I don't do well with resolutions. At least not the ones I come up with. I have had a rough 2009. Had bad relationships that led to my tumultuous disposition, health faded dramatically, was screwed out of my finances by AT&T, a shiesty landlord, and FEMA not willing to help me for my apartment damages from Hurricane Ike...hell, I'm just not coming back into contact with friends that I left for a minute! How's that for rounding the bases in life?

Wow. I still cannot believe Michael Jackson is gone. There are so many entertainers for this first decade of the 2000s that left so quick. No Luther, no Gerald Levert, Aaliyah left here fast, Left-Eye, damn near everyone! James Brown left on "Christmas Day" just as horrible as the tsunami victims did in the east. Man. These are the more surfacing entertainers that were noticed. Bullshit like the planes crashing into the World Trade Center Towers, this fucking "recession" (seems like the same damn shit of old for the Africans here on this God-forsaken land), incited war and imprisonment against world court laws, and ridiculous kidnappings and gruesome murders and sexual deviancies. I mean, seriously folks, tapping your feet in a stall? Using funds to cross your borders for some Argentine skin slapping? Burying a female under the government driveway? cigars...eh, I can't say no more. Wait, one more...INFIDELITY AND CHILD MOLESTATION CRIMES AMONGST the ones who lobby for bills to stop these shits?!?!?

Tiger, Serena, Rodman, Jordan, Vick, Ray Lewis, Bonds, Kanye, Odom, Bey and Jay, Nelly, P-Diddy, Kobe, Shaq, Sosa...What the fuck, man?!?! Targets on the backs of black athletes and entertainers shoved right in the world's face. I mean it's one to know form our own perspective, but to have "white America" replay it as if it's the end of the ages?!?! (See 2012 for more bullshit dramatizing) Honestly, no one can say that they didn't read the fine print when it came to national notoriety.

I'm glad everyone is still talking about Darfur, the G8 Summit, the overthrow in Honduras, The immigration reform, and of course, Jena 6, Brandon McClellan, media banning in Iraq and China. Yeah, who cares about them less? (Where's Kanye?)

There were some good points here and there. These friends and associates helped me to re-center and focus on my goals and achievements to come and conquer. Barack Obama first quarter-term, after overpowering stiff (arm) competition, a ditzy fish ("Sarah Barracuda"), and Lieberman bitching out to join and hide behind the republican party, now donned "The Michael Steele Curtain"comes to a close....here, have some fried chicken and watermelon (cue Zoeller comments).

Shani Davis won gold, and Usain Bolt has revealed that he is half-man, half-cheetah...Jennifer Hudson overcame tremendous pain with her brother and mother's greusome murders, and not only bravely came back out to perform, the got the bitch ass man that did the murders. Togo had its first olympic participant and WON a medal, I believe! Vince Carter totally destroyed 7'6" Weis, and posthumously, Michael was resonating worldwide, as if he was the second coming, smashing all music sales and memorabilia...(Take that, Elvis!)

Yaaaaay! Maxwell and Sade returned from their hiatuses, and Little Brother and De La Soul fucking shut down the place. Props to Pharoahe for his part in amping up HTown along with Talib, Jean Grey, KRS-One, K-O, K-Rino, M-1, Dwele, and Common!!!

Rest with the ancestors, Dilla Dog and Batik. We still jam you all. Chris Henry, McNair, couple of boxers...Pimp C?!?!? Wow...what's really good with these exits?


I had a great time with Chloe, Cody, and Corey, regardless of what happened within the relationship that has me separated from whom I considered my children as well. I still miss them, but things need to progress. Maybe in the future. I joined Grupo De N'Golo Houston and picked up some righteous infor and tecniques for Capoeira Angola. Even had several compliments about my singing of the "corridos" and chulas! It's imperative that I visit a mestre, either here, or in Bahia, Brazil.

My families on both sides took some hits. I lost a great-aunt on my dad's side of the family, and my aunts on my mother's side are not boding well with their health, and it's seemingly the same conditions that my mother had. I don't want to see them suffer like this towards the latter ages. Bittersweet was my mother's birthday, in which she celebrated 55 years of her spirit being remembered. The same day which my girlfriend's mother also passed. Egun was still remembered, regardless.

So many things, so many thi...oh yeah! I finally got my pots back (warriors), but I need to get my ilekes, QUICK!!! I can begin to continue on my path that is oddly and strenly challenged by my Igbo of a father. He just now toldme about my middle name, not knowing that I knew some tidbits about it. Funny that the same thing I am now going towards matches a spiritual connection with my name (Nwosu - son of the Osu, considered a demi-god/omo Oya-child of Oya, considered a saint, or orisa...a demi-god). It will be interesting if I can be able to go to Africa and conclude my path towards enlightenment and soul-searching.


So many things...so ma...wait...Ok, so how about i'm more apt in my astrology now? My dreams are coming very strong. I even share my dreams with my sweetheart, and she shares with me. Some say it's turning up as a 5-year for me in numerology, but also in terms of Osun coming around the bend to help my spiritual path.

My locs are long as hell now!

I've met a wonderful woman, and we struggle at times. However, she helped me through a lot of shit, (as well as my Ifa family) and she's been the inspiration behind half of my works.

I've never cried so much in my life...maybe after my mother's passing years ago. But a damn relationship will do that to you, as this one did me soooo bad. Life lessons learned.

Umm, I have more, but I think I'll just put them out as they go. I'm just ready for 2010. Isn't everybody? I have my shoes on...maybe I should wait to damage '10s behind if done wrong. let me give this new decade a try. Man...I'll be 30 next year?!?!?!

"Memo To My Mother"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #10 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx

This bitter winter wind whistles
Calls like she did in volume
Offering me an early sleep
To wake up in the morning
And give me gifts
On a day that I now can't stomach
Where I turn a head
And cough
At the physical abuse given
To celebrate a dismantling of histories
And customs
And cultural significance
Now I receive these Maroon and White Texas A&M sweaters
And nice fighting games
And toys that revolve around justice
And watch Sparkle
Wondering what would I eat all day
If the Aggies would win against the "Golden Domers" of Notre Dame
If they would get over the burgundy and gold spearheads of Florida State
And what entails to me getting these things
Now that I believe in nothing more
Than what she was showing me subliminally

Then I recall when she had me with her at the library at "The Hill"
And I'd go to the fourth floor
Digging my heels deep in Greek mythology
Sitting in silence
To myself
Wondering about frank Athena Franklin
And Kool Hercules
Mixing my hip hop beat boxing
With my knowledge kicking steeze
She loved the fact that I could usurp books
Like Gwendowlyn Brooks does short poems
Noted for Ali's talk and Frazier's hooks
Gave me Friendware and Tandy candy
Information treats that I now see
Daily upon my seat here, before you all
On the damn Internet
Who knew that she would be so much like I was
So much like she was
So much like we once were?

And now she watches as she always did
Even when she was blind
And I had my greatest years in front
And my trials behind
In track and testimony in church
In basketball and performing poetry on stage
In saying how much I resemble Elder Abney
Although she never met the man with her sight
She supported me in baseball
And was on my ass about my grades
PTA
CYA
GPA
And even what would I be?
On NBC, or getting my degree?

Grew up a choir boy and playing bad guitar
Creating Lego themes and drawing art like stars
I was destined to draw and do French
Wear glasses and be a child-loving being
Become scholarly and maintain through the struggle
Help out my sister
Even when she caused the trouble
Support my relationship when it crumbles like bread crumbs
Withstand the weather, whether
Blistering hot or cold dead numb
Love my people here no matter the rights and wrongs
Love my heritage and own where I belong
Named me after my father and grandfather
Kept me as if I was just her own
And when she decided that she did just enough for me
She packed her things
And went home.

Rest with the ancestors, Dorcas Jo Okoro! Love you, mom!
12/7/54 - 1/11/04


© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"The Arbor Of Old"

I fall at the feet of the tree.
Limp and in the trance of love, praising ancestors above
Tears dancing in my eyes an African tune along with
beating drums of my coronary to the point of return
there are no mo' "no mo's"
So I don't serenade the clouds solo
Grasping at the leaves and branches that share fallen fruit
of sisters in Selma and Brothers in Beirut
of play cousins in the Palestine and aunts in Angola
of history's treasures a-stolen over
They are too easy for me to pluck down
I frown at these discolored coloreds
Covered in bloated faces and swollen throats
and coated corpses and blood-drenched ropes
This isn't a lesson taught 101 or live and direct
This is where I wash my hands
with their souls swimming
At the roots!
They dive into my palms to bring clenched fists
Freedom songs and war psalms
I'm no longer a long no wailed
whipped like winds whistling through slave ship sails
I am the strongest of cries yelping out loud
Like orange colored tunics and dashikis splashed proud
I kneel, naked and torn and humble at the bark and stumps
For every road block, for every bruise and bump
I can't write a story so bold about saving face
On music awards shows when I can't uphold my race!
On home plates and hardwood courts where I stand not on grace
But in front of those who'd jeer my cultural taste...
If I didn't recognize my arbor...
My soul's arbor.
Growing through concretes on Mississippi days and Texas nights
Shading from Georgia sun and Carolinian stocks
Hiding my figure from Tennessee crops, and Virginia canines
My scent is on these rings, sprinkled in a spiral
Deep within these arbors harboring
Intellects as old as oaks and warriors with keen eyesight
And kinky hair like tangled moss.
I fall at the feet of the tree
At the point of Igbo and Yoruba roots
Branching through my dreams and truths
This arbor is my armor, protecting my love
For my people
Unpruned by predators
preserved and uncarved
I stay rooted, and unforgotten.
Unrelenting.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro

The Surgery, The Implant, The Transformation (Part Two)

I have a fellow Ifa brother, (actually an elder in a way, although only by a few years) that adamantly believes Ifa is constantly changing. Many Ifa elders (rooted in the Yoruba culture and directly from Yorubaland) dismiss this claim, explaining that Ifa doesn't move, nor transform, because it is how the ancients saw nature and their surroundings. My brother argues that Ifa also related to the situations and environment around them at that time. He also claims that Ifa contributed to the drastic changes to the world scape and lifestyle. He continues by insinuating (in a way) that Ifa expands past these studies that confined the wisdom to its own world including: trees, rivers, and animals, and the sky. The elders argue that astrology and numerology are not an influence as well, whereas he thinks it's an infusion of all practices. I believe both. It is true that I and other 'Africans in America' (from Malcolm X) will not and 'cannot be Yoruba' (from Dr. Epega). Instead, we could learn the wisdom of Ifa and nature's secrets to enhance our understanding of this world, spiritually and physically.

From my POV, I was asked by my dad to take heed, due to the fact that my name and culture (Igbo) stems from the belief of 'Chukwu' and other deities, and Yoruba culture would not be the fit for my own. In doing some research, however, the market days of Nigeria for the Igbo and the Yoruba, customs of sacrifice, devotion, and the naming of the children and the meanings don't stray too far from each other, if at all. I simply believe that the Igbo and the Yoruba misunderstand each other's main stems of cultural roots, for now most Yoruba are Muslims, and, the Igbo, Christians. I am also torn between my mother's old time religion in terms of respect. She was Pentecostal, (Church of God in Christ, or COGIC), and they, of course, conjured up spirits and healing through praise, albeit they all were worshipping Jesus. My Grandmother's old church was an African Methodist (AME) denomination. The psychological boundaries were pushed for me at a young age, seeing that the stories of the bible and hearing other versions of how we came to be kings and queens didn't come to me until college. I am now a few months from 30, and I don't see the resurgence of the old time religion I had back then from my mom's days on Earth coming through me, unless it's to revere her and my other ancestors at the altar. In a sense, it's right alongside with the Ifa lineage in praising those before us, but instead, it's not focusing on a figure that is portrayed to be "The Rock of My Salvation" (his Ifa splits would be Sango and Esu).

What I don't understand is that people spiritually try to run game on each other on these trying times. Apparently, "Jesus is to return" and people will get caught up in the Rapture. 2012 is right around the corner, and people are looking for great floods, power outages, fires, earthquakes, monsoons, tornadoes, stock markets crashing, Whitney and Bobby making a tour...everything to blame on their lack of spiritual focus. That's why it's easy to mystify a devil of sorts, (Esu is mistaken for this character often, although in Ifa the 'Devil' doesn't exist), and start praying like it was ammunition and God was firing blessings at their families. Jihad is a view one takes when it is apparent that one thing (I am not entirely sure where this comes from to be as truth, but still...) 72 virgins or so will greet the sacrificial being in waiting at their version of Heaven. So let me get this straight...the Christians believe in letting the Lord fight their battles, and they will become martyrs or die in the name of the Almighty God if they just believe and not strike against their enemy, and the ones that they call radical Muslims, or Islamic extremists, would kill themselves for the greater good of "Brotherhood" amongst the Islamic world? Beautiful, right? I don't believe that all Muslims and Christians are like this at all. In fact, I know that there are some people that utilize Ifa in the incorrect way. Lack of 'Iwapele', or good character. The Laws of Attraction suggest that you call into existence the energy you speak of, or will around you. If you want to be sick, you'd be worrying yourself to death, almost in the literal sense, if you will. Ifa teaches you to hone your spirit with the world around you, rather concrete or course grass. the government constantly tries to talk about slowing down terrorism, improving job increase, and better global connectivity. However, this system was rooted in massive hatred, and karma has to run its course, Black Messiah or not (*smh*).

I have had mad suspect Iwapele ever since my dad was doing his dirt back then when I was little. The Iyaami, considered to most as the witches who bring aje (wealth) or may cause wahala (trouble) if you disrespect them have brought an aspect of how I treat women to the light. I don't think I've been the same person ever since seeing how men treat women as commodities and not as equals. I was raised to make sure I don't disrespect females, but in seeing my father and his exploits, I wonder if that jaded my whole view on how women were soon to turn the tide. I haven't had the best of luck with them, and according to Ifa, this may be a continuous thing unless I set my father's and past males in my family's deeds straight. Spiritual ase resides with the females in a magnitude unexplainable. This is not pushing up on them. This is simply seeing where ruination caught up to my father in his actions. In this case, I think my father is the direct. I am not fully aware if my mother did anything herself, however I know she kept the family glued even when he did his dirt behind the scenes, and in the accident he suffered. He wasn't always like this, and for the fact that there was a reason I came through these two people, I think it shows itself even now. I am learning more about my father's side and my mother's side, only because now my mother has passed. My dad laments the things he's done, and he was there to defend and give us the things that may or may not have indirectly affected us. Still, the Iyaami are killer with the memory and gathering respect. If ever was a time for the men in our family to reap what our formers have sewn, they know how to enact on it. My father hasn't had a decent encounter with women since. A few that have led to his paternity suits, and a couple that lead him into heartache and most of them cheating on him. Another few have had the other man threaten him physically. One thing is for sure...you don't have to believe in Ifa for it to be enacted. This is just a sample, and maybe I'm wrong on it, but Ifa can catch up to deeds quickly.

But isn't that the way with most spiritual systems from the outside looking in? Not religion, spiritual constructs that show a cause and effect. Some repercussion. Some consequence. Some road take or not taken. I embrace Ifa and its infinite possibilities. Some may put it off on their own selfish views on who or what helped them, but nature takes it course, REGARDLESS of it you let it or not.

The Surgery, The Implant, The Transformation (Part One)

I'm attempting to reach out to fellow readers and bloggers alike on a subject that many will overlook only to suit it to their lifestyle or belief. I won't hate on that, however, I feel that no one is owed anything without giving proper credit and thanks to those that have laid the foundation before us. This blog is dedicated to Dr. Afolabi O. Epega, my ancestors, my ori, and those that I have come in contact with that have helped me move forward in life, as well as I unto them.
One thing that Ifa has taught me is that you cannot do anything or go forward without mentioning those that stood behind you. We stand upon the shoulders of our ancestors. It's been said time and time again. I wonder if we are starting to lose touch with our teachers and trailblazers because of what Western society deems as 'self-deserving notoriety' in the technology age. One thing that is repeated in the lineage is that we know our information and continue to study life and nature. The ebb and flow of this surreal and very tangible existence before us calls us to react in a way that our spirits are not affected detrimentally by what we acquire, but what we've learned. Not by what we see, but what we feel. I was taught that you must "sacrifice the chicken within, in order to before we sacrifice outside ourselves". My mom always taught me to put a 'handle' (a proper address, such as Mister, Madame, Mademoiselle) on the greeting to an adult. Sitting down with elders unlock treasures and stories unheard of and so valued that you'd not want for the foolish reality shows. I have seen how we must consult our family and elder community, before we start anything, for their permission.
Respect comes in many forms.
In my six years of up-close Ifa experience, I have seen things that Dr. Epega and a host of African spiritualists, (or shall I say 'spiritual influences'), appear and manifest before me in astounding ways. To unlock the faith and strength within, through turmoil and through triumph, makes you wonder why do we struggle to understand others' behaviors? Ah, if only everybody understood Ifa the way that Jordan understood the game of hoops. It was one thing to comprehend Christianity, another to tolerate Islam. Both are somewhat dependant of the African lineage of the honing of oneself, spiritually. Somehow, invading became a big ordeal in order to spread the 'enlightenment'. Unloading your beliefs upon a culture to improve your cultural and political status is out. It's still being done today, but not as subtle, if it was at all. What gets me is that most Traditional African practitioners are looked upon as outcasts by the multitude, yet the ones that lead these hordes are secretly consulting the oracle (Ashe-O)! I don't want to give nor withhold too much of what I know, so I will just say this about what I believe Ifa has done for me. When I started to walk out of the boundaries of Christianity and searched for more slightly on Islam, I found out that the two don't contrast as much. In more than one instance they mention each other's prophets, guidelines, and even how they greet each other in a closely connected language. With Ifa, these differences are demolished by simply undressing the title of a person's beliefs and addressing them within their spiritual paths and taboos. I always tell the story of how I was pulled over by policemen, searched, harassed, and then arrested and taken to jail numerous times. Was it my first significant taste of discrimination, exuded upon me by the self-hatred of others? After all, a 'sista' called them on me, and they were two Hispanic officers with tazers and a glock pointed at me. I wasn't in the wrong, and yet, this was the time that I would experience why it must happen. I've been mired in the works of Ogun and Ochossi all of my life. However, in one instance, I was told to come to court for a judgment, and three days before that my life was changed in significant fashion. That will be revealed in part two.
It is believed that the only things that are certain are the days of a person's birth and death. Anything else can be manipulated to suit or help with the flow of your life's path. However, it is also said that to work against your ancestors is ruination and certain unease throughout your life. I've heard one person mention to me that it's (IFA) only significant if you believe in that type of energy. What you believe in isn't the problem. How you react and respect nature is.there are some Christians living the high life without acknowledging any Traditional African spirituality. There are some that practice Voodoo, Vodou, Voudon (sp), Lucumi, Santeria, Hoodoo, Candomble, Palo, Chango Baptiste, whatever type that is a derivative of the systems of Ghana, Congo, Egypt, and Nigeria, and they are wildin' out. However there are reasons for everything. Since I've been here, and only ONCE to Nigeria, I've come to realize that more of my blood leave the mother continent to search for God, Goods, and Glory...through CHRIST that strengthens them. My elder, Dr. Epega, mentions that they're just revering someone else's ancestor (that he is the most overused). So poetic, seeing that we don't search within the self, in order to better one's knowledge of using and misusing universal energy. After all, this shit ain't ours to keep...the energy we are given is to repair past lives, past situations, redeem, settle debts, find harmony and love, and redo this all over again. (TBC)

Q & A Games

So last night we played the "What If..." game. It was interesting because what I thought would be said in an abnormal conversation (if there is such a thing with me) was all laid out. She admitted that I wasn't boring, and that she wanted to know more of me. More about me. My admiration for her increase daily, however, there looms an overwhelming feeling that there's going to be some type of rapid change that will smack either one of us square in the head. Speaking of which, I like to poke fun at her head, although it's the cutest :) But, I digress.

The strong emotions I feel are unreasonably growing through talking and building. The game we played brought up future children, relationship tooling, and location. I'm not entirely sure if this is a fantasy waiting to fuck me up royally in the end, or something that is a delayed reaction from painful experiences, into a blossoming revelation of happiness. Oya is right there between us. Our ancestors are right there circling us. It's almost like a tussle for trust. A rumble for real affection.

The "What If" game brought to my attention some things in her past and my past that weren't pretty by any means, but that was the beautiful thing about it. We were ugly in our living because of the energies we were allowing to occupy our souls at that time. It's scary not hearing her, not feeling her by me, not being able to see her everyday in my dreams. We share dreams like pizza, and wash them down with interpretations. This game brings out the best and worst in us, and we play it without hesitations on finishing. We take turns asking and answering "What If" questions like it is an inning in baseball. Better yet, if one of us doesn't have anything ready to ask, it's like a turnover in football, or basketball. Possession is held by the next person. Doubled up. No fouls given. No ejections. We laugh, we contemplate, and we definitely reflect.

That's what's scaring me. The last time I felt this happy, I ended up in a relationship that stung after the initial break-ups, and the final one was like a foot on my neck. From the outside looking in, it doesn't seem like she's looking for lofty goals, but I'm realizing that the more we spread out our desires, the less I am holding off the doubts. I don't like doubting. I don't like fear.

I am a night person...and also an early morning person as well. Hell, if I'm up, I'm up. I love talking (as you can tell) and reading poems and quotes to her. She asks me to sing, and yet I'm not the best person to belt one out. LOL Hell, I'm just singing because my momma sang. I love melody. This woman is putting it back in for me. I have my own tune. She likes it. Question is, "What If" I am not supposed to sing to her? Hell of a question, right? I'm so affixed on her, that I want to submerge my emotions inside of her abyss of pleasure. I sang for my ex a few times, but I never really thought she was receptive. She claimed she loved it. I only sing when I play Capoeira, or when I'm teaching the children in the program new corridos (shorter, verse-laden Capoeira songs) When I read my poems to her, she is seemingly floored. Most of my newer poems are inspired by her. A renewal of my spirit, of sorts. I honestly couldn't muster up a true poem for my recent ex, nor any one of my exes for that matter, because it never came. My inspiration (or muse) usually is not the one I'm seeing or trying to marry. Why the hell is that? As she would say, "We have to remedy that, right away."

We fall asleep talking to each other. We sometimes don't even sleep. If at all costs, we're constantly doing everything that we'd do daily, and just add each other into the equation along the way. One time we talked for 18 hours...I swear it felt like it. It effects our work and our thoughts at times, so we try convincing each other that we must go to sleep. I wish she would, so that way she could tell me more about her dreams. Hopefully, we'd meet inside of each other's dreams and share a bowl of blissful ice cream, you know. She claims that she had a dream eerily (or prophetically) about a person similar to me. I can't tell you if it was accurate or not, because what stopped me was the fact that the first letters of my first and last name (although reversed) matched the person in her dreams. Not to mention the fact that one name was Igbo, and the other was Yoruba. Oddly enough, I study Ifa, and my name is Igbo.

I love her writing. I wish she'd write more. It seems like a female version of my life, minus some horrific experiences that were placed upon her. I don't think I'd be alive, or out on bail if I went through that shit. Maybe it's something about women who've been through pain that attracts me to them, because I feel as if I have to redeem. I think I'll be bold enough to perfect my craft, just because she's not so restrained in telling her story. I should be so lucky to live through and be more confident. She gives me that confidence.

"What If" this is right? "What If" I'm choosing door number 3 in a fail?

Know what's funny? My ex's children had a game we all played called "Imaginiff".

"Imaginiff" (Imagine if) I actually stopped living in my head and started living for the now.

Is her heart the "now"?