...yeah, the one you met the other day in the grocery store. She made you wanna say something to her. You did. And now you can’t remember her name. But that wasn’t really the important part of the meeting anyway.
I'm an excellent tryer and dedicated if not so-so runner. I’m probably too old to still play on the monkey bars. But I do. Maybe too young to groove to Sam Cooke. But I listen to him. I'm powered by plants, a pacemaker, and anything creative.
I like making collages, making up my mind and sticking to it, and making up recipes; almost anything by James Baldwin; almost anything with black beans in it; and probably more than is healthy for the average human: I like alone time and homemade popcorn—not necessarily together.
I daydream constantly. I write poetry and prose. Sometimes I teach it to people. Sometimes I read or recite it to people. And even less often I publish it.
I could be more tolerant of overpriced grapes, people who drive with parking lights on, and deafening car stereos.
I like to laugh but don’t do it as often as I should. Some people think I'm shy. Some think I'm a mute. I'm happy to be here and try to make the most of it.
I’m supposed to be grading papers but I can’t stop thinking about my writing projects [Breathing Lessons especially]…and my workout (which I’m about to miss if I don’t finish my work and go to bed). But, yeah, Breathing Lessons…
I make lists. It’s what I do.
I also take unsmiling pictures of myself. Shoot me.
I write a lot more journal-y stuff than poetry. But trust me: I’m a poet.
I have the binders. A degree. The tortured soul to prove it.
But back to this thing about lists.
I often think of young women; the lessons I think we fail to teach them and how we might better serve them and our world if we did. By we, I mean women who have been there and made it (somewhat anyway) through.
What ” to do” list could we give them to get them through that decade–what could I have told told me that would’ve encouraged me beyond my doubts? Probably nothing that I would’ve believed, but here’s a list I would’ve given my 20something self anyway:
1. Chill. I was serious most of the time. But the truth…
begin/rant 1. Make no mistake: mainstream media nor the social media outlets from which we often get our "news" have not suddenly gained a conscience. The daily graphic portrayals of state violence against socioeconomic underdogs (for our purposes let's just say black men though you do know there's also been a rash of murders of [...]
fellowship/publication submissions: 1 fellowship/publication acceptances: 2 fellowship/publication rejections: 3 books: Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone by James Baldwin (still reading) Secret Shame: Winter whimpering Mantra of the Moment: Rome wasn't built in a day.
Something Like an Asshole, or, How to Read the Rind You know the greasy spot on the side he never sleeps on is a sign. Your palms are a sign: The body is more water than flesh. And if you know how to interpret It right the way a mango peels, meat stripping itself like [...]
fellowship/publication submissions: 3 fellowship/publication acceptances: 1 fellowship/publication rejections: 1 books: Buck by MK Asante Citizen: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine Secret Shame: Because and all the other reasons. Mantra of the Moment: If it doesn't challenge you it won't change you.
To order a copy of Breathing Lessons 101 through 1. Go to your PayPal account. 2. Remit payment (20.00) to darleneanitascott@gmail.com. 3. Send your mailing address to darleneanitascott.com.
I'll be reading from my work-in-progress at the Bridgewater International Poetry Festival this weekend. You can find the full schedule of events here: Online: http://wp.bridgewater.edu/bipf/ On Twitter: @bcpoetryfestival On Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/bridgewaterinternationalpoetryfestival I'm on at 3:30 p.m. on Saturday, January 17th. Come through and say hey (and grab a copy of Breathing Lessons 101)! Can't make [...]
Of course, I keep trying to wrap my head around Nigeria's crisis like many of us who are aware and/or care. In stark, and I feel shamefully insensitive, contrast, it made me think how the Universe conspires to protect us and give us the desires of our heart. It's a tough job. Sometimes when it [...]
Because you will never read this I can admit there were never reasons.
darlene anita scott 