Supplies and such.

So exactly how am I ROAMing? My supplies are mainly can goods with me buying perishables as I can. I try to cook as many meals as possible although every now and again I have to The vehicle is packed carrying the necessities I can cram into them. The vehicle, Blackjack is what I named her, also serves as bed, shelter etc. I have been using public facilities (this is Lake Warren in Hampton County, SC) to shower, use bathroom, etc. As for right now this is how I'm Roaming. I have friends and supporters who have given me places to stay but the majority of my time is spent alone in Blackjack.

I have been told that the hardest part of this trip will be the aloneness of 3am when I'm cold and it's raining and no one I know even knows where I am...so far this has held up to be true. If you were Roaming what would be the hardest part to you?

Supporters Sunday

Simply stated my journey could not have started or continue without the support of others. In fact the very blog your reading is the creation of one of my biggest supporters (Thank you Ms. Alliteration:-) I just want to extend my thanks to all of those who have supported me. For the continuation of our Roam I will use Sundays to recognize supporters of Project:ROAM. As this is the first Sunday there are many people to thank many of which I have given nomenclatures of endearement. You know who you are:-) So I would like to thank all who have assisted me:

Ms. Alliteration - blog designer, cheerleader, cutest spellchecker ever:-)
Tia-mat (think dungeons and dragons) curser outter of doubters
Mama Bird - who reminds me in no uncertain terms to take care of myself
The Elf - who trouble shoots and who got sick taking care of me.
The Bruhz - too many to name but who have provided such support as can be given to a dreamer
My poet family - again too many to name who have done too much to name and continue to.
A very special thanks to Empress K who's gift material and spiritual have injected new courage in me. All given after speaking to me for less than an hour. In fact so many have given so much I cant chronicle it all but please know I will try and that I am extremely grateful to everyone of you.

Culture in the Carolinas

Performed at the Wine Up in Charlotte tonight. It is amazing to see a cultural/artistic community flourishing as it does here. I truly feel that I am witnessing the birth of a Renaissance when I visit Charlotte. Not to take anything away from Bull City and the Triangle, but this area of NC is a cultural explosion in the realms of art and culture much of which is homegrown but some international. (i.e.the world famous Durham Blues Festival among other things) The movement is growing in NC in general. Venues and events abound everywhere from Kinston (Hey Inkstress!), down to Fayetteville, to Wilmington and I'm sure places I don't know but more important than venues is that the integrity of art, and not just spoken word poetry, remains intact. Venues like Mansion 462 in Chapel Hill, Wine Up in Charlotte, Hayti Center (home of the Jambalaya Soul Slam), events like the Royal Slam in Raleigh (C.O.R.E) and Downtown Live ( I think it's called), Spoken word Wednesday's at the 4030 club in Raleigh (not sure of their status right now) as well as the incredible Black Poetry Theater troupe who perform everywhere! (Sup Church?!) exhibit how much art is a part of culture of the Carolinas and it is one of the reason's I am glad to call Durham my home... when I get back that is. As I am traveling and may wind up anywhere the inspiration blows me I would love to hear from the "Roamers", "Cubers", (Shouts to Tiha and Alliterally Alise) or anyone just passing through. What are some venues, events, lakes, mountains, deserts, (u get the nature theme) or sights that need to be seen in your city? (good, bad, ghetto, or majestic....)

Do you know...

...right now at this moment without peeking. What kind/color underwear you have on? Now if you are going on a date later it doesnt count. If you are matching your underwear to your outfit ( I have seen it done enough that I have accepted it) again doesnt count. If your planning on being in any type of situation that may cause your underwear to show or have to be shown (this is mainly for the drinking game/truth or dare clique...or again date night:-) Basically if you chose underwear because you knew someone besides you was very likely to see them and this is why you know what kind of underwear you have on it doesnt count. Now, with those cheaters out of the way do you know what kind/color underwear you have on? Why do I ask? I'm looking for Co-signers:-) Because I didn't. As I was getting into the shower at the campground, undressing as efficiently as one can in a stone building with no heat and cold water spewing at you, I looked in the mirror and paused because instead of the green underwear I thought I was wearing I had on black pair. And this freaked me out, not because I had an extra shower somewhere along the way I'd forgotten about, but because of...well...how can you forget something that close to you? That intimate to you? I contemplated the reason I didnt know and why you might not know is that those things that are closest to us (in more than just a physical way) are not things that we think about when venturing out in our everyday, not taking a shower in a cold bathroom world. We hurry up and get up, dressed, and out the door with not much thought to the closest parts of us. Just on how close we live to work and how long will it take to get there. But we definitely know what we have on the outside - even those who refuse to abide by the dress code of their job or the social compact. Do we feel that what is part of us but no one can see is not as important as what others see because this is how they define us? Do we define ourselves by how others define us? Maybe I just forgot about a shower and should shut up...but do you know what color underwear you have on? (Dont Peek!)

Route 321

Leaving Columbia tomorrow. Heading South. Going to be riding through small towns I have seen many times before as a tween but feel like I will finally see them for the first time. Obstacles and barriers have presented themselves as expected. Did 2 shows in one night, a first for me, sold barely any product. Both venues loved the shows and I was meet after by many who told me how much they enjoyed, were inspired, were touched, etc by the poetry but…well we are in a recession/depression. Money, the quintessential barrier that I have to and God willing will overcome. My brother told me today that I have too much pride (if there is such a thing) and that I have to learn to ask for help. I know he’s right and I have to come to grips with it. Just one more character trait I have to adjust. I remember as a child growing up in the projects in Brooklyn having to go to the store with a note from my mother asking for credit and bearing a list of items. I used to play the dumb, sweet kid acting like I didn’t know what the note said. But I did. The answer wasn’t always yes and I felt like a failure when I had to come back to the house empty handed. The emerging man in me. My pride derives from this and other experiences of poverty. Nothing particularly special just having to swallow pride to survive…and knowing it way too young. We all have similar stories, even those who never wanted for anything, they too have had their trials. My story is nothing special it’s just my story and how/why I came to be who I am. I don’t’ excuse the behavior of rappers/ athletes/ entertainers but I can understand how suddenly having an excess when you previously had nothing could make you act. Anyway, it’s off South. The road calls me.


The road calls me (1st stanza)
The road calls me
A lover’s whisper in my ear
Saying
Come to me
Follow me
Ride me like I’ve never been ridden before
Position yourself between my guiding lines and push
Harder than ever
Don’t look back
Keep your eyes on me
Move faster than the speed of thought
Cause if you think
you wont
But take your time
Cause if you don’t
You’ll miss
the purpose
Don’t fly through the journey
Taste me
Lick asphalt
Kiss concrete
Suck exhaust till exhausted
Then rest your weary bones in my median
Never leave me
They say your running from your demons
But you see them
Face them in the mirror every time you look
Do you see him?
Not a demon but your father
Gone 13 years and yet here
You look just like him…
I started smoking at his bedside beside him
Watching him die of cancer
Lit 2 cigarettes
1 for him, 1 for me
having found the answer
of how to commit suicide
Slowly.

Random Pictures

Do I want to discuss race, heritage and hate?

Not really but whether or not you want to sometimes your forced to. Example: the picture below.

To your right: Confederate War Memorial (big thing w/ the guy on it) behind it (on the pole) the confederate flag behind the flag a truck (integrated work force of city employed landscapers…too easy) behind the truck the South Carolina State Capital Building shelled by Sherman and still bearing the scars. To the left, you have to look hard, it’s blocked by the walk sign The African American Memorial (I’ll take more pics but it’s a wall and table thing put up in the 90’s). In the center 2 white guys waiting to cross the street. Are they racists? Klansmen? Sons of the confederacy? Or liberals who want nothing more than social change and equality for all people? Do they give a damn about any of this race shit? How would you or I know? The answer is we can’t but in the context of this picture what do you think? This is how symbols separate people. Supporters of flying the confederate flag on state grounds (although since the confederacy tried to secede from the union/USA wouldn’t that make the confederate flag a banner of treason flying, by state law, on government property bought with the tax dollars of…awww you know what I mean?) say it is heritage not hate. What’s the heritage? I’m biased of course as a descendant of those who toiled, died under and in twisted turn of events died for that flag. I would not honor those black confederate soldiers by flying it. I would burn it in effigy for a mistake we can never forget as long as it flies. Something so divisive it brought the NAACP down and rallied 50,000 protestors to converge on the capital building calling for it (confederate flag) to come down off top of the state building, which it did, to 15 feet from the ground so we could see it better. Heritage not hate? I would simply interject that to some the Swastika is heritage.