Monday, April 20, 2009

Relationship Flashback

Doesn't feel good when you run into an ex- and there are no regrets? not one moment when you say "damn he looks good and i wonder does he ever..." (yeah just like Ne-yo in that old video for ''do you" ) and on a sidenote, how in the hell did she know which phone booth in the desert he made the call from? if you haven't ever seen the video, get yourself some bizness and check it out!

oh, where was i? oh yeah, no regrets. i ran into an old boyfriend on the subway platform yesterday. how fitting, being as though our shiznit was a trainwreck from start to finish. Let's call him "M". M was the epitome of tall dark and handsome. you want to know how i KNOW i had never felt this way about anyone before?

IT WASN'T ABOUT THE SEX. i don't even remember much about it. but ask me something about what he thinks or how he feels about any random subject. i bet i can tell you in vivid detail. M was not all bad. he was intelligent and funny. he was the first man who i ever felt always told me the truth. i never doubted him (yall see where this is going, right?). we were talking about marriage a week into the "relationship". i was a different desperate mess back then. and he probably could smell the play-doh in my head. i felt like i needed to be molded, shaped, formed and reborn in his image. the man... not Jesus, i was sick!

he picked me up from work from day one, let me drive his car, hold his ATM card, meet his kids (all 6 of them...) all the bogus ish you tell yourself means he trusts you, he wants you. and most importantly he TALKED. he loved to share, always wanted to know what i was thinking, how i was feeling. i was ridiculously smitten within days. My Friends Hated Him. of course they did. "he was too deep", they "couldn't relate to him", they"didn't want me to be happy". so what does Hatina' the nut do?

stay away from her friends!

all i need is M. he is my husband. my future. i used to pray i would get pregnant by this man. I swear if thats not a sign that God knows what is best for us, nothing is.

M's mother even said "yall are togther more than MARRIED people". when we weren't working, we were together. ALL THE TIME! M's big thing was self reflection. knowing yourself, finding yourself, discovering your divine purpose. i think he thought his divine purpose was to drill this into me until i REALIZED that there was something wrong with me. i didn't share! i avoided questions! i was so uncomfortable talking about myself! what was i hiding? why wasn't i happier with me? i didn't know whether i was coming or going. and then on Thanksgiving he told me he didn't want to be my anything. not my friend, not my boyfriend, nothing. he didn't want to keep "having to tell me what to do". he had "been where i was and had grown past it and didn't want to revisit it".

can i tell you something in me curled up into a ball and died that night?

2 days later he asked was i still going to spend the weekend in Delaware with he and his brother and his brother's girl. his words, "Charles (his bro.) wants to know if you are still going with us?" i said didn't you tell him? he said no, and you can still go. (drum roll please...)

so i went. and i brought a book with me. we chilled. we barely talked, but we danced late one night to "Summer Rain" by Carl Thomas. Everytime i hear that song i think of "M". on the ride home, we had a horrible argument because he said i was excluding myself the whole weekend because i was reading.

but that wasn't the end. i spoke to him in January on his birthday. then nothing. one night in April there is a knock on my door. it's M. and i am honestly UN-enthused. he says"Man (his best friend) was asking about you and i was like we are right by here house so we came to see you" i'm like O...K.

So i go downstairs. There is Mann, my boy, i really liked him. he is soo f-ing cool. M is in the trunk doing something. so i get in and start talking to his friend. Mann is like "why you do my boy like that, you know he loves you."

---record scratch---


he told you i quit him? Mann is looking at me like i am a certified nut... he was like yeah. i said he is such a coward. your boy told me he didn't want to be my ANYTHING anymore. now it's Mann's turn to look confused. he was like all that nigga does is TALK ABOUT YOU. (in hindsight, was this the set-up? if it was i was falling for it hook-line-and sinker)

fastforward>>> i rode with M to take Mann home. on the way back he pulls over and has a mini-breakdown. his life is a wreck. he had to leave his job. someone he thought was his friend turned out not to be. his soon was suffering in school. blah Blah and BLAH. i sit and listen in silence. he misses me. he is sorry. he knows he was tripping. he drinks too much. he thinks we are SUPPOSED to be together. blah Blah and BLAH.

so i am a sucker, i am his shoulder, i let him come in, cuddle, spend the night. before we fall asleep he says, "let's get married". i say, "M you have never even said you love me". he says "you should know how i feel". i say "if you wanna marry me, you should be able to say it". and he didn't say it. maybe it was because i was sleepy, but i was strong for a minute. in the bright light of day though, i was rethinking it. the next day we did our old sunday routine, went to the farmers market. got some fried fish and strawberry lemonade and had a lil picnic at the park (i told yall it was good sometimes). i say, "did you mean what you said last night about getting married?" he says "you already answered the question so it doesn't matter anymore." end of discussion

he takes me home and i don't see or hear from him for another 5 months.

that July 2002, my daddy passed away. he liked M. we even had taken a couple road trips down to Central VA to visit my Dad. and they clicked. so i knew he would want to know he died. but i couldn't reach him. couldn't find him. left messages with his mom, never called me back. soof course because i was a pressed obsessed BI-ATCH, it became MANDATORY that i tell him. i kept calling. it was an obsession.

i finally caught up with M. it was September (yes, SEPTEMBER) and i called his mom's prepared to hear the same ol' but she was like hold on.

he gets on, "hello"

me: what's up?

M: ummm, hey whats going on?

(voices in the background)

me: are you busy?

M: uh, hold on.

(muffled voices in the background)

M: yeah, T? ummm, i don't stay here anymore.

me: oh, you moved, i have been trying to get in contact with you becaus..

(he cuts me off)

M: i got married


me: when?

M: In July.

(ohmigod, he asked me in april and why did i say no, and who is it, and why is he married and i am about to die and i have a headache and i can't breathe and why did i say no and whats wrong with me and .... you get the jist of what was going thru my head while tears are pouring from my eyes and i am a snotty, slobbering mess)

me: so who is it

(just knowing it was a baby momma)

M: you don't know her

(why do i feel like i am being stabbed repeatedly with a blunt object?)

me: oh.... well i just wanted to tell you Daddy died, i thought you would wanna know.

(trying to rush off the phone now)

M: oh baby i am so sorry to hear that. when?

me: JULY

M: well why...?

(i cut him off by hanging up.)

and that was the last conversation i had with him until Monday when i saw him on the metro looking EXACTLY the same way he did 5 years ago. i thought i would feel animosity or apprehension. but i didn't. it is what it is and i know i had to experience M to get to this plateau in my life. yes, i am single but i have no complaints. i can say i am happy. i have my kids and my friends and my family and my work and i am good.

M on the other hand is "of course" not married anymore. and back living with his mom. we had a long detailed conversation Monday night, because of course he gave me his number so we could go out "to lunch or dinner or something".

ok thats the story that spawned this poem:

u and me

I am gonna tell u

the truth

u know

that thing u r supposed 2 b about?

that is

until we r talking about


I ain'™t gonna tell u

no lies

bcuz u said

u would never do that 2 me

I am gonna b real

knowing that the chances I take

r just that

a toss up

as 2 whether

u will b u

when u always want me 2 b me


when I am not being

the me that u want me 2 b

or rather the me u think I should b

which is kinda funny

bcuz u r NEVER u

at least not the u that I met

that day when I was being enuf of myself 2 get u 2 notice me

but 2 let u tell it now I wasn'™t being myself at all

so u say

so until u can trust

the me that I am now

not the me I was when

u were not the u that u r now

but were the u that wanted me 2 think that u were

the u that u wanna b

I will just continue

2 grow n 2 the me

that is not enuf me 4 u

and until u can accept this me

the real me

which I know u can'™t

even tho I love u

n whatever form u choose 2 take

u cannot love me 4 me

I cannot change me 4 u

I can only b the best me

that I can b

and if u can'™t b with me

then I guess

this me will go on

and u will lose

the best me 4 u

u ever had

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

a wee bit o' poetry

My Heart Stops

my heart

the rhythm
of your life
beats in accordance
with the
winds of change

my heart
with you

your eyes
look upon the world
with wonder
and hope
and hold me in captivity
even as you
keep me
in ambiguity

my heart
with you

your voice
charges the air
and promise
but you
make none to me
and i accept this
as fact
not written in stone
nor engraved
in any fashion
yet i know

my heart
with you

you are loved
from afar
and intimately
and singularly
by me?

i am not selfish
nor petty
sharing you
is something
never asked
always given

my heart
is slowly
being worn away
like a stone
thrown into
an ocean current
against the waves
the sand
the shore
worn away
to something
and polished
beautiful but
tiny and

my heart
with you

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Beautiful song, beautiful sentiment

I love these lyrics...

This Is Love by Kelly Rowland

[Verse 1:] Can you describe the moment
When two people fall in love?
Some say the clouds will spin in circles
And the rain will turn to dust
The poor will start to laugh
Even the rich will start to cry
It can sneak up like a soldier
It can wake you up at night
Thats what i feel when i'm standing here with you
Its what my heart has sworn to be true

This is love
Its written on my face
Its the way i lean my body towards you
Even when i'm a hundred miles away
This is love
Like a diamond in the sand
It took so long to find you
I cant wait another day to say
This is love
This is love

[Verse 2:] You take my imperfections
And turn them into art
If i can change one thing about you
There would be no place to start
You are safety without numbers
You are dangerously wild
But you're sweeter than rock candy
And you ease my inner child
Its what i feel when im standing here with you
Its what my heart has sworn to be true

This is love
Its written on my face
Its the way i lean my body towards you
Even when i'm a hundred miles away
This is love
Like a diamond in the sand
It took so long to find you
I cant wait another day to say
This is love
This is love

[Bridge:] No im no easy angel
I'm moody like the wind
I am impatient,complicated
I am fragile deep within
But you're no fool
And I'm no little girl
Have we not found
There is love in the world

This is love
Its written on my face
Its the way i lean my body towards you
Even when i'm a hundred miles away
This is love
Like a diamond in the sand
It took so long to find you
I cant wait another day to say
This is love
This is love

It's Kemani's World

You may or may not know I have twin boys... almost 5 years old.

Raising these busy men alone ain't no kinda joke. I have blogged about the “joys” of twins before…

Kendi, is jive laidback and chill.

But Kemani, the older twin, is 4 going on 24! He tells me, Mom, I am a MAN! I'm like okay.

Last night he discovered a Frederick's of Hollywood catalog.
Comes into my room with it in his hand. "Mom?"
I am playing the Sims 2 (my addiction), "Hmmmh?"
"Imma read this magazine in your room." That sounds suspect, so I look up and see what it is.
"Where did you get this?" taking it from him
"In Jadyn's room" my 11 y.o. daughter
"Son you can't look at this. Why do you want to see it." Can't wait to see what he is gonna say
"But I want to see the girls. The women. I like girls." Eyes all glassy and bright
"Boy get out of here!"

That lil boy is too much! One of my favorite things to say is “I don’t know what is going to happen when Kemani is released onto the world.” The world ain’t ready for him. Hell, most days I ain’t ready for him and I pushed his azz out!

A couple of weeks ago, I was in the kitchen getting ready to make dinner. Here he comes in his everchanging RED PowerRanger costume/get-up.
(I say everchanging because on any given day he will find every RED thing he can get his hands on and lay it out on the floor : one winter PowerRanger glove, a red sock, my measuring cup, a Spiderman glove, a headscarf, 2 or 3 various McDonalds toys, some Lightning McQueen stickers, a red sweatshirt, Mickey Mouse t-shirt, flag printed swim trunks, a PowerRanger hat… then proceed to find someway to put every article of clothing on AND find a way to attach everything else to his person in some kinda way… all the while yelling “S P D Emergency!” I swear I HATE whatever Japanese businessman thought up that ish… but I digress)

Anyway he sees me pulling out hotdogs and proceeds to say “ I want a hotdog”.
I say “ok. I’m fixing it.”
he says “put it in there” (pointing to the microwave)
I say “no, because I am going to fix some fries with it and I want them to get ready at the same time so you can have them together, ok?”
you know it’s not okay… right?

This lil niglet points that PowerRanger sword at me and proceeds to say “I want a hotdog” about 75 times in the span of one minute and a half. so I turn around crouch down, look him in the eye and tell this little big-eyed boy:

“Kemani get away from me before I hurt you.” thru clenched teeth.
you know, the I’m serious momma face

He drops the sword.

takes 3 steps backwards

looks up at me
and says,
“Is this far enough?”
I rest my case.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Worth waiting for....

Wait. Trust. Believe.

There is a wall between you and me
I'm trying everything I know to get to you
I'm even trying things I don't know
Like patience, honesty, and faith
Patience because I know this is a process
As instantaneous and whirlwind as it may seem, still a process
And I know we have a way to go
But I'm right here
Even if it's on the other side of that wall,
Call my name
I'll answer
So I wait
And this honesty thing, it's new to me
Not that I am a dishonest person
But just that being who you want to be
Ain't easyI like to tell myself that I am a good person
And I deserve wonderful things and experiences in my life
But the reality of the situation is that I haven't always lived that
Hell, I didn't even believe it possible for meI mean, learning your own truth
And discovering who you are as a person is a long arduous process
(There's that word again)
But it's necessary
Once I learned how to be honest with myself,
I realized how simple it was to be honest with everyone
So the truth is I care so much about you
The truth is that sometimes I'm afraid that you will pull away for good
The truth is I wish I could find I way to put into words all the emotions you evoke in me that I don't even know if there are any words for
The truth is when I lie beside you in your bed
I imagine that I am lying with you in our bed and that we have already created a life together
The truth is I want that to be the truth
And I have faith that it will be
So I trust
Faith is the belief in things unseen, right?
Faith keeps me vigilant on the other side of this wall
And I trust this newfound faith
I trust it because I believe that you are exactly who you say you are
I have faith that everything happens for a reason
And I believe that the reason "I caught your eye" is that I was supposed to
My faith in love, my faith in the power of that love will carry me up, over and through that wall to you
Of this, I am certain
I have never wanted another thing more in this life
Than wanting you in mine
I will not stop until I get to you
So I believe

© Hatina' N. Covington 4/26/2008

Thursday, March 27, 2008

rainy day rambling

how could such a beautiful day like yesterday be followed by the dreggish, funky, rainy today?

i'm blown.

sitting at work.

not working (obviously).

i work for an organization that offers help to homeless individuals and families or those on the brink of homelessness. we are into PREVENTION.

so a client came in this morning. she needed assistance because her electric had been turned off.

she was african american, lightskinned, average height and weight, carrying a few weeks old baby in a receiving blanket. when she came in the receptionist called back to my coworker who processes utility assistance and said "there is this lady out here with TEN kids". i was like "she has to be exaggerating, right?" my coworker is leery about going out to the waiting area. i'm like "i'll go look." i peek out there, come back. i see the woman, the baby and about 4 little kids. i tell my cubicle mate "it's like FOUR." so she comes back. she is way worried about all the kids in the play area, so i say i'll sit out there til she's done getting processed. well to my surprise (and dismay) i count 1-2-3-4-5-6-PLUS the receptionist says the two oldest ones are "outside" (doing WHAT in the RAIN? is my thought process, but ok...) the ages are like maybe 3,5,7,8,9,11... something like that. the big kids? 15 and 17. PLUS the new baby. all i'm thinking is , "Baby what are you going to do?" the 3 y.o. has on a coat my 11 year old could fit, NO EXAGGERATION. sleeves to the floor. the baby has on no coat that i can see just a sleeper and wrapped up. the little 5 y.o. boy has on his pajamas. my heart is going out to her, because i know it has to be hard and i am listening to her tell my coworker her story and she is staying in a shelter because the electric is off and she is talking about how people LOOK at her because of all the children etc. etc. but all i'm thinking is "WHY WOULD YOU HAVE ANOTHER BABY!?!?!?"

but then i have to think clinically and know that she is probably in some stage of depression. as black folks - we all are for the most part. she needs help and just not this kind of "get you out of immediate dire situation" assistance we are offering. i mean counseling and mentoring and parenting skills and budgeting and EVERYTHING! What is she going to do? and i can't stop thinking about her... and all the sisters out here like her. folks are SO quick to judge, you know? i know i'm probably doing it while empathizing at the same time.

here i am struggling with the THREE kids i have, working everyday, battling my depression, exposing my artiste to the world, raising my family, nurturing myself AND my children, getting a part-time job, looking into going back to school, fledgling relationship... etc. but i have a little education and may have been exposed to some things that she may not have been. so what's the solution? where does the dialogue start? this is the main reason i want to start my own non profit, a place for struggling families to get that "everything else". housing folks ain't the solution for homelessness. helping them get the tools they need to be independent and healthy is...

i thought this was a ramble... but i guess i had something on my mind after all. ciao

Wednesday, March 26, 2008


Riding the Bus thru Chinatown

We are
Dreadlocked Nubian
Shaggy blonde woman
Purple-haired boys on bikes
Pierced and tattooed Indian
Brown black and asian
We are
Every man
And no man
Wealthy attorney
Homeless veteran
Victim and oppressor
Moving moving moving
Waiting waiting waiting
We are
Never stopping
Forever shopping
Giving less
Taking more
We are
Fake smiles after a day of working
Frowns while we play
Never happy nor satisfied
Chasing that entertainment “high”
The air is filled with music
Pulsing beeping blaring from
Sherbet colored cell phones
Blinking blue lights flashing
America’s personal EKG
“can you hear me now?”
Can you see me?
Feel me?
Touch me?
We are
Speeding by
Candy painted eco friendly vehicles
With TV screens in headrests
Scarce commodity
Art? No.
Shoveling soggy handfuls of scripted insanity
Labeled R-E-A-L-I-T-Y programming
Down our collectively parched gullets
Overly seasoned with commercials
Featuring prizes to games
We can’t afford to play
But dying to be a part of
Forcing us to quench our thirst
With more brine- and booze-soaked
Social commentary
Also known as the 6 o’clock news
The bus stops here
We are

© Hatina’ N. Covington 3-25-2008