17 Wednesday Aug 2011
Posted in Flyyness, Who Is Jaz
Tags
Jaz Taylor Presents..
All That Jazz: Act 3 (a birthday celebration)
“The Evolution” – August 21st-28th, 2011
The Gods of Flyy had an early birthday present for me. They felt it was time to Evolve. Watch this Comic Book Movie showing the story then Join me as I embark on a 7 day celebration of LIFE!…
[Hint: barcode app needed]
01 Friday Jul 2011
Posted in Poetry/Spoken Word, Social Commentary
Tags
Welcome boys and girl
Come one, Come all,
Step right up to The Minstrel Show
We have:
Jigaboos
Coons
and Nigroes
All for your enjoyment!
Coon the night away,
I mean
YOUUUUL!!! the night away,
I mean
Supa Soak the night away
Aw Hell
Just have a good time
and
Boogie down til the patty rollers come by
We have everything your hearts desire:
Gin & Juice
Gin & Juice
and more Gin & Juice
We’ve imported the Fiiiiinest Lycra Tube Socks for the Nigras
& “Nigga Moment” spray for the fellas – GUARANTEED
to land any SANE Black-Man in prison
Jigaboos
Coons
& Nigroes
Step right up to The Minstrel Show
Forget about your past;
Leave it all behind.
Enter into a world of “Coonery & Bafoonery”
No more:
slavery
middle passage
Jim crow
segregation
water hoses on your grandma
fighting for the right to vote
black power fists
DEGADING – BLACK – FACES – IN – MINSTREL – SHOWS
Just Me, You, & a coon or two.
Singing:
Bow! Bow! Bow!
Yes…//THIS is Black Entertainment.
or is it Just Another Minstrel Show?
Designed to entrance you
Delight you
Brainwash you
Embarass you
And You
Coon.
Jigboo.
Nigra.
Negro.
Too ignorant
– NO –
Not cognizant enough of the happenings and such
So quick to dismiss them as utter ramblings
and meaningless
Yada Yada Ya’s
Amidsts a revolutionary’s jumbled train of conspiracy theory thoughts
& you, “Coon”
Coon.
& dance “Jigs”
Boo.
However,
your anger does not turn hot until a Peckerwood adds the “E-R”
to
Nigg-ER
My Nigg-Ah
But I still have these tickets!
Get em before they’re gone
Jigaboos
Coons
& Negroes
I invite you to enjoy The Minstrel Show you’ve created for me
Signed,
The World
[All the World's a stage]
30 Monday May 2011
Posted in F*ckery & Bullsh*t, Love, Pain
Tags
Summer time is upon us & people are eaither in heat or loosing their d#mn minds.
Mission: “Blow this popsicle stand”
In the midst of all this fool-a-rangery, Barnum & Bailey, and general Charmin’dimity … Can we PLEASE remember the human element?
Sigh.
There are people on the other side of that ign’nt wall you’ve built.
Funny how a song from a Nickelodeon Cartoon can spit so much knowledge:
“Break Your Heart” by Dino Spimoni (via Hey Arnold! 1996)
Darling, you left my heart In pieces on the floor
So tell me why shouldn’t I Break some things of yours?
I’ll smash your lamp,
the antique chair,
That stupid thing you always wear;
I’ll smash a vase, the radio, Those little teacups from Limoge;
Your wacky paintings on the walls;
Darling
- POW –
I’ll smash ‘em all;
Lover, it’s just a game;
Cupid can take the blame;
I’ll take the place apart,
But don’t worry – I won’t smash your heart!
speaking: not me,
maybe some other clown,
but im not gonna smash your heart baby
22 Sunday May 2011
Posted in Love, Poetry/Spoken Word
Tags
ESQ, esquire, gentleman, gq, NBJ, poetry, spoken word, the only esq
“Esquire Man”
I think I need a kinda educated man
a man who kinda thinks on his feet
knows that I gotta a college degree Typa-man
seeeee
I ain’t goin for … that … buuuuull-shit
now that I got my college degree I think in can ask for a higher standard
I
have
my
morals.
I’m putting my foot down.
I
think
I’m
allowed
that.
yeaaaa.
I think I am.
and see im not in my feelings
and I don’t want to be called a bitch for these thoughts that I’m spitting right now
I think I deserve an Esquire
a man with ESQ after his name
a man who is stylish
but see
I think
I think
I think
I think I still want him to be an Urban Nerd
a man who still has a bit of sag in his pants
a bit of sag in his pants
a little swagger to his step
a man who is a little bit nerdy
cuz this is the type of woman that i are
the type of gal that I be
I want an Esquire Man
an ESQ type of gentleman
a GG
a man with that European, 50s,, Brotain type of style
skinny tie
a man who likes Italian Leather
a man who shops at Method KC
a man who knows what a boutique is
an Esquire type pf gentleman
a man who doesn’t look at me cock-eyed when I stop on front of a door
“Open My Shit.”
Be a gentleman please.
a man who doesn’t get caught up in all that chivalry shit
it’s not chivalry, its just being a man
a man whose not pretty
cuz when ur an Esquire it’s not called being pretty
it’s just called being: ESQ
that’s the type of man that I want
to compliment me
to ne on on my side.
because I’m going places, with my college degree
and even if I didn’t have a college degree I’d still be going places
because I’m just me
I’m just jazzy
Flyy shit
Flyy double y
i’m
and I need a grown man by my side
he must look good in pictures and on top of my wedding cake
or with me on the cover of in style magazine
an Esquuuire Man
ESQ
to compliment my swagger
but fuck swagger
cuz me I’m Flyy
and he, he’s ESQ (dot)
that’s right
and you remember that name
cuz you’ll be seeing it later
I want you to tweet about it
The Only ESQ (dot)
say it: ESQ (dot) 3x
men I want you to aspire to it
women I want you to want, i want you desire it
ESQ (dot)
and me I’m Flyy double Y Flyy
and we, we #teambowtye
and without further a-due, I’m going to bring him up
The Only ESQ
15 Sunday May 2011
Posted in Poetry/Spoken Word, Spirituality
overcoming sensibilities of myself
of realities
of what I thought was true
each day
Preaching
& Teaching
& Lecturing
& determined to pass on my Testimony
in the midst of rolled eyes
and mutters
bitter bitches and sour niggas whispering
I’m just passionate
in love with life
and if you knew my story
and if you knew my journey
…what God’s brought me through
you’d know I’m just happy to be walking.
to be breathing
and my smile
isn’t fake
I’m not some USA Pageant queen chick
it’s not pasted on with valseline on my gums
i’ve just learned how to count my blessings
no longer taking 300 plus pills a week
not walking with a cane every day
go to sleep with all utilities on
gas in the tank
fed
cell phone never cut off
texts from people who love me
truly love me
I’m blessed
so I smile
and each day I wake up with 1 decision & 2 goals:
Decision: Live or Die
I’m not speaking About simply existing as plants do
I mean living
the type of life that great philosophers such as Aristotle mulled over
what makes a human, human.
Life
Granny Sunlight, Father Time & Morpheus all enter my bedroom at 8:30
(or so)
each morning and present me with the red pill or the black
Each time I choose to live I’m choosing to ride this mothafuckea til the wheels roll into the street and the exhaust pipe falls off
Goal Number 1
Think a Thought That’s Been Thunk Before
let me run that back
Think-A-Thought-That-Has-Never-Been-Thunk-Before
each day I’m pushing myself towards innovation
in my business
in life
it stops my from settling
Fuck your foot, I believe in lighting the fire under my OWN ASS!
While you’re thinking outside the box, I AM the box
you’re making room for me
eIther you occupy the space inside
or outside
so you will get in where you fit in
either way you follow me.
And Goal Number 2
Pass a smile
For the greatest testimony I can give is letting my light shine
by lighting your flame
So Smile
=)
15 Sunday May 2011
Posted in Lessons Learned, Poetry/Spoken Word
Download Audio Recording w/ Music
This is not a diss it is a Revelation
This is not a diss it is a Revelation
This is not a diss it is a Revelation
This is not a diss it is a Revelation
or
Perhaps
it
is
a
Revelation
Diss
That’s what my mom said
but my Big Sis says Jaz your Messy
but not in the bad way
not the gossipy get shit started way
and I laughed
a good belly, gut-filled, guffaw
replied: i’m a social commen-tear’ist
she rolled her eyes and muttered: “a terrorist”
but she proceeded to listen as I spit my Revelations
or Disses
or Disses after my Revelations
more similar to explanations of Rebukes
after attempted excercisms
and douses in holy water
splash splash
(fickee fickee fickee)
splash splash
(fickee fickee fickee)
splash splash
by bishops n deacons n cardinals n pink robes n poofy hats
bless yo heart
This is a Revelation Diss
To all those who’ve left me Muttering under my breath
Ranting N Raving
Utilizing vocab such as Pussy, Ratchett, or an All around Fuck N#gga
[Yea, I'm talking about YO ASS!]
Those who’ve led me to pull out my yoga mat
Pray about it
Take the high road
Turn the other cheek
Fight
Myself
from
showing my butt cheeks
Write poems about cha
or simply
To all those who have caused an ache in my heart that nothing can fix.
No hug can touch.
No kiss can mend.
Scars so deep…
That I had a Revelation
That I’m tired of being dissed
So if you ain’t Rockin with me -
and I mean: Aaaallll the way with me
Then Fuck You.
Colored Woman//Not pushed to the end of her Rainbow
18 Monday Apr 2011
Posted in Pain, Poetry/Spoken Word, Who Is Jaz
Tags
adult children of alcoholism, alcoholism, father, father daughter, for colored girls, Pain, Rainbow Suite
I’m a soldier because every interaction with my father is like going to war
05 Saturday Mar 2011
Posted in Uncategorized
Rainbow Suite #3 [EveryWoman]
This poem goes out to EveryWoman
The woman who are and the woman who be
The woman who ain’t and the woman who she
The woman who told her girlfriend: “He wasn’t shit anyway, put on your fuck’em dress & your get’em girl heels, saddle up, cuz Giiiirrrrl we finna ride out!”…and now you’re here, With me.
The woman who cried & wiped her tears away before they dropped so her mascara wouldn’t run,
then held her head high
and went back to her desk like she was A-Ok
…And to the other
who curled into a ball and held her pillow tight
wishing the nightmare away or
just a break in the storm so she could see the sun shine again
To the women who laugh & giggle.
Conversations on the phone on the car ride home
Endless Texts
Likes on GIRL POWER! Facebook status messages
Retweets then a [hashtag] “Get ‘Em Girl!” subtweet just to show your support on a
super-cala-fraga-listic-expi-ala-do-shus post that
simply
must
be
read
by
all
And I say to you
You’re the bomb.
All that and a bag of chips.
[Hot chips]
The original kind with Chester the Cheetah on the front.
With your Press on Nails upgraded to Silk Wraps
and Door Knocker Earrings upgraded to Chandeliers
and Saran Wrap Sessions simplified to Spanks
Woman, oh Woman, Thou Art the Shit!
And don’t allow anyone [not even yourself] to tell you otherwise
See those Stretch Marks are truly Tiger Stripes.
Remnants from the African Jungle from whence you came
Your wide array of emotions demonstrate passion
An ability to take an interest in all causes, great and small
And the ability to flip through them so quickly shows versatility
And that patch near the nape of your neck that curls up tight in moments of laughter, fun, good sex, and between hair appointments…
….Just a sign of living-life
and you do it well, my sistah
And if you don’t know your worth; i’m sorry.
but you are worthy of this poem.
And many others.
I am not the first to write about you, Nor will I be the last
From your intellect
to your resilience
your flyyness
down to the sheer mighty bountiful power possessed and over-flowing between your legs.
Buy a thong with a flap, call it a superhero cape because it has capabilities beyond the understanding of erectile comprehension.
Better yet tell him to bow down and take a dip in your baptismal waters
And when he does be sure he understands the miracle that just took place
For the great sea that gushes between those walls are capable of bringing forth life
And if he looks perplexed or got lost in this trail of metaphors…
Just know it is powerful beyond measure
And you contain it so tell Smiling John to Submit
And he will. It will.
This poem goes out to EveryWoman
In plural and in Sum
None left out
In all stages of your Rainbows
To the woman who are and the woman who be
The woman who aint and the woman who she
This is for you
Love Always
Signed,
Jaz
05 Saturday Mar 2011
Posted in Uncategorized
Rainbow Suite #2 [This Torrid Affair]
Dear Richard,
This torrid affair we had is done
i think i speak for us both when i say it was getting a tad stale.
i mean.
u dangle the carrot on the string for me to swat at like a kitty at play posted on the cubicle of the wall of the office cat lady who wreaks of moth balls and such
and i giggle
and i laugh
and then i cry
then i spit sometimes not so idle threats about slashing tires
of putting a bullet hole between your eye
because
i – dont – like – games
it’s getting old.
and no matter how many daps or soul claps.
nods of acceptance
you give me
thumbs up
shoulders to lean on in moments of lapsed sensibilities…
you don’t truly F with me
oh, silly Richard!
i can hear you now.
put your head on my shoulder while the world kicks your ass
and i pick you up and tell you it’s not your fault
and how handsome you are
and how you were made in God’s image
and i smile and nod my head and tell you to do the same,
because studies show that Monkey see-Monkey do
i learned that from my mom.
it’s the “Mary Kay” technique to selling.
BABY SELL iT!
and after i sell you a dream and you trot off with your penis happily bouncing between your legs ready to embark on another adventure of only Who-Gives-a-Fuck-What
i roll my eyes and mutter: “Jerk”
He hasn’t got a clue.
My dear Richard,
i’m writing to tell you this torrid love affair is through.
and no baby we can’t work it out
and no it’s not that simple — we just can’t kiss & try again or start over
Fuck Me?
Well Fuck You Too!
No, no, no, no
(laughs)
You silly fool you.
i take that back.
Yes fuck me.
i love to fuck me and i do it quite nicely in fact,
…but this letter is about you, and i’d like to keep it that way
While you’ve been clearing your mind i’ve had time to clear mine
Well not really, but
God granted me a moment of clarity and in that brief intermission from the kayos of fuckery i envisioned equality
A world where i wasn’t called Bitch when stating my opinion
Told i was being mouthy when stating what i would not stand for
Or called arrogant for reminding you of my resume of skills & accomplishments when conveniently overlooked in your male-dominated business groups
Perhaps Martin was on to something with that dream of his…
See, i can dream too.
Except in my dream Ethnicity was obsolete.
Everyone was the same color and the world knew Martin was a philanderer.
The great dividing line was positioned between the legs.
i was being pushed to the end of a rainbow by an angry mob
i had a needle and thread and sheer determination to close the gap one way or another
i woke up.
Dear Richard.
This colored girl refuses to be pushed to the end of her rainbow by you or any DICK.
[get it: Richard…Dick]
So to you i say: “This Torrid Love Affair Is Through.”
05 Saturday Mar 2011
Posted in Uncategorized
Rainbow Suite #1
The Colors at the end of my color wheel have begun to blur see…
I saw that leprechaun so I chased him.
Hippity Hop.
Hippity hop.
hippity hop.
[he stops]
At the end of my rainbow he drowned in a bowl of tears
Fuck.
-Bastard-
What are colored girls like supposed to do now?
Lives broadcast on cinema screens –
Discussion groups –
And think tanks –
But,
“Who gon’ save us free Black Girl?”
“Who gon’ save us free??”
After the credits roll
And the panels leave
It’s just
Little Colored Me
Skin soaked in remnants of burning hot desire and raw intimate passions of rainbows seared over-easy with a side of ham in a cast-iron skillet:
N#igga in the other room Joke Tellin:
Still ridin’ the highs
[Feeling jubilant]
Thinking he put the Smack Down
On that…
PUSSAYY!!!
colored girl regrettin’ that shit.
Damn.
And this is her night.
Over and
Over
and Over
Again.
And She Hates Herself.
And she wants to detach her pussy lips
Purge her self from the inside
And
Somehow get back the innocence
A
Friendly Assailant stole from her youth
Only a Child.
Hmph.
Little Black Girl.//End of the Rianbow
