💔​​Cultural Racism Is Keeping People Single💔 — The Eye Wall

Dear T.S.P. Family, I recently composed a meme where I expressed the importance of incorporating the effects systematic racism has had on American society when we’re having discussions about what a healthy romantic relationship should look like. In other words, you can’t talk about “love” without factoring in how “race” affects the way we judge the […]

via 💔​​Cultural Racism Is Keeping People Single💔 — The Eye Wall

So basically what T.S.P. is saying is that white women who date Black men have a fetish about the Big, Black buck with the huge dick, who was off limits back in the picking cotton slavery days. Black men who date white women got, “White women are submissive and won’t give me no lip” syndrome and therefore, are quite the opposite of the “Angry Black Ghetto Queen.” Black women who date white men do so because the Black man is broke-assed thanks to slavery since folks who was owned, couldn’t own a damn thing. And white men date Black women because they’ve got “My sex slave in the slave quarters” syndrome, that also is thanks in part to white men heading for the slave quarters after having not been satisfied by their white wife, AGAIN….back in the picking cotton slavery days. And some whites just have “I want to piss off my relatives by dating Blacks” syndrome and those of us who are single ain’t down with none of that. We got ourselves a big ole case of needing all up and down on some counseling.
Let me break MY situation down. I don’t date because I was married to a broke ass Black man who spent all of his earnings on the lottery and on card games played for money while I had to take care of the bills, but the thing is see, I knew he was broke assed and I married him anyway. And now that I have been divorced for quite some time, there ain’t nothing white, Black, purple or blue that’s worth me even looking at because with all of the STDs out there, if anybody thinks that I am going to dive back into the dating pool, they have got another think coming. Not to mention that if anyone has heard of the show, “The Bachelor,” then you know that the number one reason contestants are eliminated is due to STDs, namely herpes, which is incurable and many did not even know they had an STD until they tried out for that show. So, they have been spreading herpes to all and sundry. Yeah! Think about that for a minute or two. Let it sink in.
“ABC is testing for drugs—but perhaps more importantly, the network is checking for STDs.”

“As soon as the medical tests came back, you’d see that herpes was the biggest thing,” Hatta told Kaufman. “And sometimes you’d be the first person to tell a contestant that they had herpes. You’d be like, ‘Uh, you should call your doctor.’ Why? ‘We’re not going to be able to have you on our show, but you should call your doctor.’”

And with the way folks bed hop these days, I ain’t down with that. Nor am I down with having to attend every doctor’s appointment that my significant other goes to because I need to know just what the hell he is doing when I am not around. And the Black men I see in my day to day activities ALL want to know if I know how to cook! “Hell no and I ain’t yo mama!” Those old ass bastards want someone to take care of their sick asses. As long as I can remember, some old ass man has always been looking up in my face wanting me to get with them, acting like they something because our first date would be at their ‘Senior Living’ facility. Seriously??!!
I do believe that some of us don’t date because we are perfectly fine with being single. I don’t think it has everything to do with racism and who is poor and who is rich or about a fetish and because we need counseling because we as Black people have been subjected to every vile and atrocious thing whites could throw at us and so we are mentally and physically tired of the shit. We are, but at the same time, being single has its perks. You don’t have to worry about STDs. You don’t have to worry about what your ‘partner’ is doing when you’re not around; that trust issue. You don’t have to fake orgasms or feel like you are obligated to have sex with someone when you don’t want to have sex and the peace of being alone has its own benefits. You pay your own bills and have no one to drag you down with their issues because we ALL know that everyone brings baggage to the table. Some of us have gotten to a point in our lives where we find enjoyment in being single, carefree and able to do as we please. Call us selfish if you will, but I prefer to call us, “content.” And so I say, “Each to his/her own.”

Lastly, I covered some dating issues in a blog I posted a couple of years ago.

 

Break Free!

break the chains

For something in me was just never satisfied.
I would sit on the porch and stare at the mountains,
convinced that there was something, something calling to me,
beseeching me to “Come, come and drink from overflowing fountains!”

There is another world out there beyond the tall green mountain trees.
No telling what destiny will find for you to do if only you will wander,
wander away from the safety of boredom and the mundane,
and fling yourself into timelessness that only youth can squander.

And so I fled, I fled from the stagnation and strangulation of my nine to five;
and I lived, I lived as only the truly free can live, free from the bonds of society,
free to make my own rules and for this I was punished, held accountable.
 For those who wield the whip will never let the slave break free from his chains of slavery!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2017 Shelby I. Courtland

Each day, we are reminded in many different ways that life is just too short. We hear of a loved one who is seriously ill. We hear of horrors occurring daily to others in our neighborhoods and around the world and yet, each day, we go to the daily grind so that we can afford to go ‘home’ and what….’live’? Ask yourself this question, “What does it mean to ‘live’? I don’t mean to suck in air and release it. Are you doing what you truly love or are you doing what you NEED to do just to survive? Are you just going to work so that you can keep up the payments on that house and car and maybe, at the end of the week, you can sit down and have a beer and consider yourself lucky? Is this all you want out  of, dare I say, ‘life’? Is this all there is to ‘life’? Working to make someone more money while you give that same person the money that you ‘earn’ so that you can keep a roof over your head and sit in hours of traffic and think and dream about what it would be like if you could do just what the hell you want? We are all stifled and oppressed by what we have allowed. We have allowed others to tell us how to ‘live’ and if our doctor ever gives us the ‘bad’ news that it’s almost over for us, the only reason we kick up a fuss is because it is expected of us and because we fear the unknown.

Life is to be lived, not merely gotten through. Think about it. Are you living life or are you just waiting until your number is up? And when it is, will you smile and say, “At least I lived,” or will you say, “Damn, in a few more years, I promised myself that I was going to live!” Think about it. Live your life, don’t just go through the motions!

Baltimore Or Bust!

Baltimore

 

To all my loyal readers, I want to thank you for coming to this blog and also I want to thank you for your support in encouraging me to continue to spit out the truth. But there comes a time when I must do more than spit out truth, I must roll my sleeves up and do what I can.

At one point, I thought that I wanted to pack up shop and head to a deserted island and lick my wounds, and quite actually, the wounds are real as a result of a horrific car crash, but nevertheless, I decided after finding out that the places I had chosen to look at were just as Americanized as America, why, I’ve decided to go back to a city that has long held a special place in my heart, Baltimore, MD.

So, in a few days time, I will be driving to Baltimore with a trailer hitched to the back of my vehicle and off to new adventures I go. I have been feeling stifled here in the Midwest and quite frankly, these people never grow on you, they’re just too bland and vanilla. I love fire and excitement and danger and gaiety, Black folks, good cooking like collard greens, yams and silver queen corn. I love to sit by the harbor and sip wine and reflect on how great it is to be alive and I can do none of that here in the Midwest because all I can reflect on is how miserable I am here. What the hell was I thinking in coming here in the first place? Oh well, tis too late to wonder about that especially seeing as how I am about to rectify that by moving back to the East Coast.

I have long been contemplating a move back to Baltimore and for those of you who have followed this blog for the past year or so, you know I have penned poems about how Baltimore charmed me. I am not just going back in an attempt to take up where I left off as that would be a foolish dream, I am well aware that things do not remain the same. However, the same crime and grime and prostitution, poverty, homelessness and the like exists and since I have a bit of means now, I intend to roll up my sleeves once again, and attempt to become part of the solution as opposed to part of the problem.

What that means for my blogging? Well now, it is going to be a while before I will be able to post anything here and so I just wanted you to know that when I stop posting my vitriolic rants and raves, kick-ass poems that’s got me winning awards(Thank you AGAIN Nidotopianwarrior), it is because I will be caught up in all things, Baltimore. Now, some people have told me, recently, that I am the biggest fool there is for heading to a city where many are trying to leave and I have said to them, “If there were more people like me trying to help instead of just ignoring the problems, maybe Baltimore would become a city that shines by day as well as by night.” And there is something about that city, despite its many ails and issues, that will not let me be. Baltimore is a drug; it is heady as champagne for me. I’ll not stop drinking champagne and now, I must heed Baltimore’s call. That is the first city that I ever stepped foot in that literally pulled me in and folks, I gotta tellya, I started running away from home at the age of 15 and I was headed for Las Vegas then. GEEZUS, the stories I could tell. KKKops chasing me from city to city with teletypes following me and yet, I never was caught. “Up yours, mother!” KKKops just ain’t that smart when a 15-year old girl can walk right off a Greyhound bus, stare them in the face and request her luggage from the attendant and sashay into the bus terminal. Nope, KKKops just ain’t that bright at all! “Up yours too, KKKops!”

But as usual, I digress! The story of my life, eh? Anyhoo, I will be staying in a nice hotel down by the harbor while my new place is being readied for me. My furniture will be following me down since I never can plan anything, I am just a spur-of-the-moment type girl and that is how it has always been with me. The only place I have ever stayed  at for any length of time is Baltimore and I think the reason being is that Baltimore is just so close to everything. In a few hours, I was in Philadelphia, then in Atlantic City and could skip over to New York. Although, I’ve only passed through New York and never stopped long enough to do anything, but I hope to change all of that.

So, folks, as you can see, I am going to be extremely busy in the for seeable future and this is the only chance I am going to have to let you in on what I will be up to in the coming months. I hope that you all don’t miss me too much! LOL! Yeah! I know. Who is going to miss my carrying on fits? Hell! I’ve just been sent a comment stating that I am just too much to take. Oh, well, we can’t all be boring! Someone’s got to be the life of the party and it may as well be me. Now, don’t bother correcting my bad grammar here as this is straight from the heart and has not been edited and proofread, so cut me some slack.

I do want you to know that once I have been back in Baltimore long enough for Baltimore to soothe my ache for that city, I shall make my presence known in here once more, but I have no idea when that will be. So, this blog shop will be closed until further notice. But for those of you who will miss me too much and will shed copious tears of distress over this, archive to your heart’s content and know that wherever I am, I will be stirring up some shit to no end. Hell! I may even make the news. It is certainly my intent. Even though I may not be posting here, you may actually see me in action. So, don’t be surprised because I do not intend to be the silent one when I get settled in Baltimore. Never that!

And to those of you who I hold in high esteem, much love to you! You know who you are! And as always, I appreciate you, one and all!

Get Up Girl And Live Life To Its Fullest!

private bathroom

Where is the adventuress that has always been me?
How can I get her back and when did she flee?

Who is this person who sits alone in the dark?
Why is she so angry and what lit the spark?

Has she let the horrors of this world get to her?
What does she have to fear from a racial slur?

Tell her you love her no matter what.
Make her understand, she’s got to go with her gut.

Don’t let her listen to the doubts in her mind.
Let her know that she’s got more heart than most of mankind.

Get up girl and live life to its fullest.
Pack a bag and become life’s tourist.

Journey far and never settle for less.
Don’t put up with people and don’t accept their mess.

You’re not stupid and you’re damn sure not brain dead.
So, go where you want to go and not where others have tread.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

I wrote this about me because lately, I have been down in the dumps because there is so much that I want to do and yet, I am hindered by my sense of responsibility. I am hindered by my sense of duty and obligation. I am supposed to be enjoying myself in my lean-to on a deserted island and yet, I am getting cussed out daily by my cousin because the mental health care profession filled him full of anti-depressants and anti-psychotics and when the medications started killing him, he got off them and now his brain is fried. He lost 154lbs. He is no longer diabetic  or obese. He no longer has a cholesterol or triglycerides problem. His pancreas is back to normal. His heart condition is gone and yet, he will never be ‘all there’ mentally. Yes indeed, I have so many reasons to ‘thank’ the ‘health care’ profession in AmeriKKKa, it is unreal! Heavy on the sarcasm!

And now, I have got to cut this short because I just got a call from him, stating that he has run out of money and is stranded and I must come and pick him up. Since I have his POA(Power of Attorney), health care directive and Living Will, I am responsible for every aspect of his life and there is no one else who will step up to the plate. His immediate family gave up on him decades ago and he has followed me everywhere I go. That is why when I mention that I am dining out with my cousin, who else can I dine with because I am constantly getting him out of trouble and so, there goes any social life for me? And when we are out dining, I am usually embarrassed because he just gets to cussing and carrying on at me for no reason. Waiters and other diners stare at us. The last time we were at Fogo de Chao, he sat and sat and sat until even the gracious waiters were looking pointedly at us. When I mentioned this to him, did the high ceilings in Fogo de Chao, vibrate? Indeed they did!

I feel like a person who has been given a life sentence. Goddamn! I want to break free of this jail sentence! You don’t have to actually be locked up behind bars to be imprisoned, believe me, I know!

Just as I was about to conclude this, I re-read the poem and I called my cousin back and I told him, “Get ta steppin! You’ve got a long walk but since you’re no longer overweight, you can do it!”

Ladies, and I am speaking solely to the ladies here, you don’t need a man to complete you and let me tell you something else, every single man that has ever been in my life has done me more harm than good. I can honestly say that when I am doing things all by myself, I do them better and I am always at my best. I have been married and it was the biggest mistake of my life. A husband did nothing but put me through hell, just as my cousin is doing. It is high time that we let these men who say they are “men” be men and take care of themselves. If we don’t look out for ourselves, they won’t. The ‘men’ who have been in my life, certainly did not look out for me.

And so, next month, since I’ve got some shopping and some packing to do, I am going on a journey to find ‘the adventuress’ that used to be ME, again. I am going to understand that I was not put on this earth to be caretaker to every lost soul on it, to the detriment of my own. Sometimes, you have got to be more ‘self-loving, than self-less.

Ladies, take care of you because I am starting right now!

Communing With Nature!

cropped-gorgeous.png

 

When I am communing with nature, I can forget all of the horrors of this world and concentrate solely on breathing and enjoying the crisp Autumn air. I can enjoy all that nature has to offer. I unplug myself from the reality of wars, drones, hunger, strife, torture, refugees, war crimes, lies, hypocrisy, corrupt politicians, prison, police brutality and the list is endless. I am so tired of getting caught up in the woes of the world. I am so tired of pretending that words that are typed over and over again, will somehow stop drones, feed the hungry, house the homeless refugees and stop police brutality. I have put down my protest sign. I have thrown away all of my pens and poetry will never again flow.

If anyone has been curious about where Shelby Courtland has been, just glance at the picture, in it is where I will be.

Good luck to you all!

P.S. It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t leave you with a lasting reminder!

Fuck This Shit!!!!

Now, have a happy fucking life!

Love Yourself, No Matter What!

love3

She looked at the world through a veil of tears.
She felt she’d wasted so many years.
Her enemies hung her out to dry.
They told her, she would never fly.

With broken wings, she fell to the ground
and she never uttered a sound.
She accepted the lies they told.
She bought everything they sold.

She would stop after each false start;
afraid to follow her own heart.
She blamed the shit in her life on fate;
felt she’d waited ‘til it was too late.

Life had surely passed her by.
And she never questioned, “Why?”
But what she failed to understand
is that life can never, ever be planned.

There are pitfalls and highs and lows,
and those you think are friends are foes.
Never settle for second best.
You’ll feel cursed and you’ll feel blessed.

So love yourself, no matter what.
Hold your head up girl and strut!
Turn, “I can’t!” into “Yes, I can!”
And stop listening to the lies of man!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland

©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

 

There is so much goddamn shit going on in my life right now that I had begun to doubt myself and my strength because as much as I rail against the injustices I see perpetrated against the innocent every single day, I felt impotent. I have let myself become jaded, pessimistic and my attitude became that of a defeatist. I wondered what happened to my fire; to my spirit. Had all that makes me ,me, fled? I truly felt so! Have I recovered? No, but I am working on it! I will pick myself up, dust myself off and so long as there is breath in my body, what weapons are at my disposal, I will use them to fight back. I will not surrender to defeat! Never!

Cars And Boats And Gold Don’t Matter!

car boat gold

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the sunrise
that can’t warm the coldest grave.
When I’m gone, I’ll miss the ocean.
I’ll not ride another wave.

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the flowers
that I never smelled anyway.
I just took them all for granted
and now, they bloom while I decay.

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the love
that I never did return.
I was too busy earning money
and your love, yes I did spurn.

When I’m gone, who will miss me?
Will my boss for whom I’ve worked?
And will my children come to see me
after they’ve covered me up with dirt?

Before I am gone, I must realize
what is important and what is not.
It’s time to love and smell the flowers
before they lower me in my plot.

Never think that there’s tomorrow.
for it may never come.
Cars and boats and gold don’t matter
when for you, death beats the drum.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

Every now and then, I try and take time out from posting about all of the horrors that we are besieged with every day; whether it be from genocide, wars, poverty, inhumanity, racism, hate, materialism and I could go on and on. Think of all the people that set out yesterday, heading to their jobs or to school or wherever and think of all the people that you see, staring down at a phone while walking into you or into a pole. Think of the people that lust and never love. Think of all the people that are busily attempting to amass a fortune and yet, have no idea what it is like to sit down and simply breathe and know what it is to love and to be loved. Think of all those people that have dropped dead and they really had no idea what was really important.

There is nothing so important on the screen of a phone because if it is, why just a few decades ago, were we having no problem in not having a phone everywhere we go? Now, it is unthinkable to even walk around the house without knowing where the smartphone is. It is unthinkable for many to stand outside for a few moments and look up at the sky if you don’t live near a park. It is unthinkable for many to remember that there is more to life than expensive cars, boats, big houses and bulging pockets. When we lost sight of this, we lost a lot. And I for one, don’t think we will ever get that back. More’s the pity. But I post this anyway. Maybe, someone can recall a time before smartphones with apps told us how to live, what to eat, where to shop and who to ‘like’.

Baltimore, You Charmed Me!

Baltimore

Baltimore, you charmed me
and now, you are under attack.
Oh Baltimore, forgive me.
I left, but I must come back.

I rolled my sleeves up once before,
through thick and thin, I loved you.
You always opened your heart to me,
and your love was deep and true.

You taught me so much of life.
I was awakened by your pain.
Never have I known your like,
you’re as heady as champagne.

Through good times and bad,
just like Ole Barry sang,
we loved and we fought
and we went out with a bang!

One day soon, just look for me
When my train pulls in Penn Station,
I’ll take up where I left off.
We owe it to the next generation.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

I have had a love affair with Baltimore, MD from the first time I ever stepped foot there. And despite all of Baltimore’s ills and horrors; for those who can lay claim to have made that city home and who love her people, Baltimore refuses to be forgotten. Like an addict that hears a drug call their name, Baltimore calls mine. Baltimore is a drug that I cannot get out of my system. I hear you Charm City! I hear you!

We Waste So Much Of Life!

time as a blur

Everything is make-believe.
What, if anything is real?
We don’t even know the time,
are the days your own to fill?

We wonder why life seems so short,
when an hour of each day they steal.
It is not as if we don’t need it,
as it is, there’s no time to kill.

We waste so much of life,
just trying to beat the clock.
Life is over before we know it.
At death’s door, we all must knock.

Take a moment to reflect,
on all the things you want to do.
Don’t put them off for tomorrow.
What if tomorrow doesn’t wait for you?

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

Sometimes we should just say, “Fuck what I need to do! I am going to do what I want to do!” I was talking with a lady a few days ago and she was telling me that she lived from paycheck to paycheck and never had the chance to do anything or go anywhere because bills ate up her entire paycheck. She said that she finally decided to say, “To hell with bills, I am going to book a trip!” She had only enough money to get to Vegas but she said she had a wonderful time and was so glad that she had gone and that even though she is now playing catch-up with her bills, it was worth it to her because she, for once, did something she wanted to do instead of the same ole same ole drudgery of a day-to-day existence; get up, go to work, go home and repeat.

It is such a shame that we never get to do what we daydream about and we feel that we can only dream due to our circumstances of being too poor or too afraid to venture beyond our comfort zone. We have allowed others to limit our freedom to act on our dreams and aspirations. We don’t have the time to indulge ourselves in a favorite pastime such as painting or playing a musical instrument or even traveling because we have bills to pay and more bills to pay and we get stuck in that rut. It is all so sad really that when we look up, we find that time and life have slipped away from us and what we have put off for another tomorrow, is no longer possible to do. I wish that I could tell you that all things are possible, but even I am not that naïve. I just wish that life for many of us could have been so much different than what it actually is.

 

What The Fuck?????!!!!!!

wtf2

Was it only yesterday that I put up a blog in essence stating that I would no longer write about how fucked up we all are and even though I did in fact title the blog, “Just Sit On Your Worthless Ass,” those of you that have read much by me know my style of writing? It is not friendly, nor is it conducive to making friends, but I am appalled after reading some of the comments over there. It was most definitely NOT my intent to bring about enmity between fellow bloggers. I was just stating my need to move on because I am tired and fed up with repeating myself and basically with preaching to the choir, which I’ve stated often enough. I have started a new blog with the intent that it should only contain deep and soulful poetry and prose from me and though I do understand that my followers have been extremely faithful even in the face of so many outrageous rants from me, I feel the need to move on due to the fact that I am causing my blood pressure to rise because of how sensitive I am and over the fact that I can do not a damn thing about a damn thing, beyond raving which is accomplishing nothing, constructive.

It was brought to my attention that I am railing against those that do not hear me and upon further reflection, I find this to be quite true and so what is the point? And since it is making me ill, I need to stop. But in no way was I attempting to discourage others from continuing the struggle to right the wrongs, undo the damage, mitigate the consequences of capitalism run amok, cease to care about the plight of others or just give up. That was never my intent when I posted “Just Sit On Your Worthless Ass.” That is just my unique style of writing.

I do understand why a couple of people have stated that they will miss my rants and could I please continue and so I ask, “To what purpose?” What difference are my rants making? I answer, “no difference at all!” And again, believe me when I say that I do sincerely appreciate the encouragement for me to continue on but when I scroll down and check out the blogs that are on my tracker, I am disheartened by what I see. I am really quite tired of reading about how Obama lies all the time when I know this. I am quite tired of reading about the fact that Europeans are still fucking over the Indians. I am quite tired of reading about the fact that Black people are incarcerated in numbers disproportionate to their population count. I am quite fed up past my eyeballs at reading about the misery that America’s military whores are unleashing on the world’s people, daily.

What really finished me off was reading about the thirteen year old boy that got burned up by a drone strike in Yemen. It touched me so deeply that for days, I feared for my sanity. When looking at his picture, the tears would just silently stream down my face and so I cannot look at him. My writing did not keep little Mohammed alive. My writing or ranting as it is so succinctly put, did nothing to stop Mohammed’s father and brother from dying by drone strike.

To those of you who think of me as strong, think again because even I once thought the same thing about myself but I have come to realize that I too, am weak. I am too weak to look at the picture of a little boy who died because the government of the country that I am a citizen of considered him to be a terrorist even though he was not, but he was killed anyway. I am too weak to look at his picture and not cry. I am too weak to be able to continue to rant against what happened to him because I am a failure. I failed to stop his death. I am too weak to continue ranting for no reason because that is what I am doing since I cannot stop Obama from droning the innocent. And so I take the walk of shame and I will become just like all of the other Americans that go about their daily lives in ignorance, cluelessness, apathy and complacency. In fact, because of what I now know, I wish that I had never left their ranks! They are the smart ones since here I sit, sniveling still because I had to look at Mohammed’s picture, AGAIN, in order to link that blog post to this one. Do I seriously need to continue in my attempts to get you to understand that my decision to abort my writing, excuse me, rants has nothing whatsoever to do with any of you? It is because I need to stop since I am only hurting myself and no one else and I must stop because I cannot face seeing another Mohammed. My heart is already broken over little thirteen year-old Mohammed and all that I can do is weep for him and that is helpful how? Exactly!