"Under Arrest"

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 is #1 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project.

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx



Smiling while black
The sun charges me for
Many stars shine without
Luster
Luxurious love for my
Rays pour out on the shoulders of
Smooth Sahara sand-colored souls
Man, we kiss each other and pass lineage
Through lips and struggling
Stressed like history
Through strainers
I maintain my brown
Down the Mason-Dixon
Up the Nile
Around downtown Houston
Ground Zero in Zimbabwe
Hey, sepia sensuality
Sends me there
I'm counting spirits on her digits
Play with her toes and nose
My baby becomes quick of knowledge
As the world slows
I'm rolling deep
Without the 'Lac and white walls
But deep in the red clay
My chart's a splay of things
So Aquariusly queer to veneer
I'm not seeing the future clear
Without a little mud covered aura
To show me my way home
Turn right
Go East
Keep walking
Shh...
The ancestors from below the waves are talking
Sending instant messages in maelstroms and
Hurricanes
Communicating with copper casings
We bullets with intelligence
Target redemption
Realign to hit our points of reference
Our destiny's real destination
Wrecking the frame of shame and
Picturing shattered distress calls
Being pieced again.
Straight from Mama's Gun
Motherland daughters and suns
Charging all of us
For
Smiling while black
Concealing contraband history
In our backpack and satchels
As we grapple with the long arm of the law
That was the unluckiest of the draw
I sketch
My life to be my wife
And we artistically die together
When we are satisfied with the ruling of
Guilty on all charges
No parole on freedoms?
I smile harder!
No probation on free will?
I laugh and show strength!
Hell, I'll lock myself up up in my culture's possession
I'll swallow the key
For there shall be no more of taken from me.





© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

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"?

There Can Be Only One...(It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Me Up) - Oya Energy?

This is getting addictive. Same old Ifeanyi. Making his heart visible for the seemingly unreachable. Giving solely because he feels that he needs to. Sticking his hand out to pull up the downtrodden fellows. Something about my energy that drives up the stakes for my soul. Can you grasp any concepts, Mr. Okoro?

Oya doesn't see me as a forgotten child, so why do I find myself in the midst of someone else's change? Particularly, another child of hers? Those that features and motions point to Yansan's protected, amongst the streets and schools and neighborhoods? I like how energies like ours connect. I think maybe it's destined to meet with these Oya children and make use of our time. Now, I'm trying to transform into a better being. Eating better, working out once again, and trying not to worry as much, if at all. My heart, however, always interferes with progress. I lose massive amounts of weight when near depression after a heart-aching experience, I lose focus on my job when I am deal with its issues, and, worst of all, I alienate a lot of my current friends. Is that how it's played for me? I must admit I do like to be alone on some fronts, but not all the time. Last night, this shining star and I talked about being alone and how it hurts the soul and physical condition. Oddly enough, my ex never wanted to sleep alone, even when we got into huge arguments. Her children even wanted us to stay together in the room (mainly so they could stay with us). I miss it. Not the arguments, but the company. Feeling someone cuddle (yeah, I said 'cuddle', and I despise the word, even 'snuggle' has me kinda eh...) under you. I even used the word to describe what I needed to feel emotionally.

When I live alone, there is no worry. I live far apart from society, or someone that knows me. Not on purpose. It just happens that way. I dated Xaviera, and I moved out of 3rd Ward. When I broke up with her and she solidified my trust in her as shady business, I reaped what I've sewn in being alone and was evicted. I literally was evicted by Hurricane Ike to move into my recent ex's apartment. We stayed together until we just couldn't see eye to eye. In her mind, I was behind, and in my mind, I needed time to reassert myself with her. She settled for another person she previously knew and desired, and I again was evicted, but by her this time. I stayed with friends pretty much for 4 years. Even my sister. That took a while, cause I separated myself from my family. Another thing we've talked about. People of African descent thinking they are disgraced for staying with their family. What else can be done to bring separated family together, other than death? Marriage? Graduation? Even when trying to start a new family, such as my last attempt this past year that was unsuccessful, it's something that we look down upon. I even frowned at being with anyone after my recent break up, because I wanted to start over again, by myself, and no one to give me any lectures, speeches, or get well soon card sentiments. I wanted to be isolated. Is that bad? In a spiritual way, yes, because you decide to be bitter and encased in solitude to the point that you harbor bad feelings, even if the energy called for the relationship to cease, for now, or for good. Why get mad and set yourself away from your people?

In '08, I left a job that paid exceedingly higher than my current job ever did when I worked for them in the past as well. Yet, this job was a family that had dysfunction. The current job has very little problems, (actually it just started to surface now) and the children are just as receptive and loving as were the previous ones at the old job. There are parents that still consider me a father to their children because of my methods and ways I loved them. But I have no children from my being. I am a father-in-waiting. I deal with this one young man named Clay and he's constantly struggling to get shit right in his life. He calls for support, and I'm spreading myself so then, that I can't offer it to him when I really need to. It makes me seem as if I failed him. He does some knuckle-headed things, yet I really wanted him to settle down and think for a moment on the situation he puts himself through. He's like my oldest son. I hope that he can right the ship, but his timing is off in this fucked up world. Now's not the time to start getting it how you live. Time to reflect and then repair. Can I take my own advice? Am I having these dreams about children from my past for a reason? When will I be able to have a son or daughter? I would itch and scratch forever for a daughter.

I constantly desire to talk with Oya in person, or in spirit to see if I'm screwing my destiny away, or if I'm getting closer, but she's busy putting my scenes of my life together. I feel like the more I try to separate and be by myself, the more I develop a sickness, or some malady. Or a blockade. I've even lost 300 bucks to a woman, trying to move out into 3rd Ward again. What's that about? So I've assessed that there are meaningful and painful changes up ahead for me. I'm not sure if my karmic debt is settled yet, however I know I'm losing my direction after losing my religion (but when you let go of false things, someone or something should be there to pick up you and guide you...right?) So I've abandoned Christianity and left the method of respecting the ancestors' ways of surviving to that faction. I've abandoned being scared and started writing and typing and being more open to others. But where's my next step?

I want to venture out. Chicago, Illinois? Bahia, Brasil? Aba, Nigeria? Underground? This is the time that I need to die and be reborn. Mentally, I'll be better for my phoenix-ing. Rising from the ashes. I help people out to extend my life-force past forever. Yet, I'm slowly dying inside. Needing the backing that me and the shining star talked about late last night/early this morning. What must be done for me not to throw all of my efforts to everyone and that NOT be the last attempt to spread my soul around to everyone. I can't save or soothe everyone. And even when I need it, like the surrounding of family, friends, and loved ones...I cannot usurp it. Why? Where are my millions to hold me up? Just one true soul. All I need.