Wednesday, December 31, 2008

say my name

people ask me, as we as humans do, what's your name? and i tell them:

my name is fly.

this is inevitably followed by a compliment, a smile and/or a question. one of the usual questions is:

is that your REAL name?

and i think to myself: didn't i just tell you it was my name?

i say: yes.

apparently unconvinced, they persist with: REALLY?

and i say: yeah, that's my name.

it seems some people would feel more comfortable if i told them: fly is some shit i made up but my REAL NAME, my GOVERNMENT is keisha. or jessica. or monica. or something else, something common, average, "normal", but don't worry, my REAL NAME is most certainly NOT FLY. what kind of world are we living in when someone's REAL NAME is FLY!?!?!?? the entire moral fabric of society would CRUMBLE INTO ITSELF if my name was REALLY fly.

when folks change their name--to reflect a new spiritual consciousness, a new gender identity, or just because they never liked their name, i often hear this lack of respect for their new chosen name amongst some of the people around them via mumblings like "well, she calls herself Phoenix but whatever, her real name is Bernadette." and i wonder: what sense does it make to spend your whole life being called a name your parents gave you before you or they even knew who you were when you can just pick one yourself as a grown ass person that you like and that means something to you? i mean, it takes some guts to make folks who been calling you one thing for years, call you something else. why is that looked down upon or scoffed at, ridiculed or demeaned?

in conclusion, please just call me what i say call me and stop stressing about my "REAL" whatever. i doubt your ancestors REAL LAST NAME was jackson. so chill the fuck out.

one more thing: my name is yvonne fly onakeme etaghene. it's actually longer than that but those 4 i use most often. there are no quotation marks around "fly" and no it is not a nickname. it is in fact my name. some people in my life get to call me yvonne. sometimes people call me by multiple names like "have you ever seen fly perform? shit there was this one summer yvonne had a show on a rooftop..." and i like that shit. but those are folks who been in my world for a minute so they get to do that. one day i might just start goin by onakeme. it all depends on what my spirit say do, we'll see. but for right now, just call me fly.

Monday, December 15, 2008


i'm letting go and letting you. however you will it, i submit to it.

"we cannot ask thee (GODDESS) for naught,
for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us."
--kahlil gibran, the prophet

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

letter to my ego

"If you want to reach a state of bliss, then go beyond your ego and the internal dialogue. Make a decision to relinquish the need to control, the need to be approved, and the need to judge. Those are the three things the ego is doing all the time. It's very important to be aware of them every time they come up." --Deepak Chopra

e·go (ē'gō, ěg'ō) [ee-goh, eg-oh] noun

1. the self, especially as distinct from the world and other selves.
2. an exaggerated sense of self-importance; conceit.
3. egotism; conceit; self-importance: (i.e.: Her ego becomes more unbearable each day.)
4. appropriate pride in oneself; self-esteem or self-image; feelings: (i.e.: Your criticism wounded his ego.)
5. scholasticism. the complete person comprising both body and soul.
6. an inflated feeling of pride in your superiority to others
7. your consciousness of your own identity [syn: self]
8. (psychoanalysis) the conscious mind
9. ego is Latin for "I"

[source: abridged from]

dear ego,

diva. queen. the one bowed to, the mu-fucka who always gets recognized. i recognize. hi. i've noticed you all up in my business lately. sitting there between my lover and i in bed, in my pocket, on my shoulder, swelling up my heart, eating up my selflessness. don't get me wrong--you have definitely held me down something serious over the years. without you, i wouldn't have left abusive situations, demanded what i was worth, had the audacity to go on tour across this country with a little bit of money, faith and you, my fuckin ego, that was so sure we could do it. and we fuckin did.

these days tho, i've let you take over. sometimes when you need to fall back, i've let you rise up. i have done this because ego, you are so easy while vulnerability sometimes is just too much for me--all that feeling and emotional availability--yikes! sometimes i'd just rather hide behind you, lie and let the world think you are me. you're not my whole, just a part. a part apart from my heart/heart that sometimes goes on hiatus and lets you take all my calls, stand in for me at important meetings, events and functions. only i didn't tell you to let those you encounter know that my heart will be back soon, she just needed a break from the world. so people be thinking my ego is me. not so. so ego, i say to you: FALL THE FUCK BACK! do not block my bliss with your braggadocio and dramatic exits and that tone you be taking when you're pissed. and know your place. i will not run to you to stand in for me when honesty, compassion and vulnerability are called for and if i do, you best tell me to turn my ass around and go deal with it, whatever it is, without you. do that shit for me. i say this hard & with an attitude cuz i know you can take it--after all you got a hell of an ego ;) and after everything i say, you just gonna brush your shoulders off and keep it moving.

and of course, you know when i need you, i'ma call on you. and i expect you'll hold me down proper, right?...thanks baby.;)

with love:
my heart, my vulnerability, my selflessness

"Give up all bad qualities in you, banish the ego and develop the spirit of surrender. You will then experience Bliss."--Sri Sathya Sai Baba

Thursday, December 4, 2008

cuz i feel like it

i feel like fuckin writing tonite so i'ma write. i ain't never been the needy type. okay so i lied--i have always been the needy type, but somehow i manage to be independent too like: "i love you baby don't leave me" & "fuck you, i don't need you" living in the same body.

this has most definitely made for some interesting dinner conversation.

i don't exactly know where i am now or what i want. and then again: i know exactly what i want. i always seem to think that i can figure my life out, like i truly have control of shit. i always want answers and promises--i wanna know the outcome now so i can prepare and then i somehow wonder why i'm having trouble living in the fuckin moment. even when shit is good, i just wait on some fucked up shit to pop off. you know cuz i'm used to drama but happiness--what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?

there was a time i thought i'd have babies and a husband, a husband with a penis he was born with, not one we copped at toys in babeland or pleasure chest or wherever. now, clearly, i've moved on, or rather, blissfully ascended into my dyke destiny and know that that breeder shit ain't for me. (time changes so much.)

is this rambling? perchance, perhaps, maybe, most likely...okay yes it is. i guess i just wanted to say that...i don't know anything about how my life is gonna go. all i can do is do what makes me happy and pray for sunshine. i feel like a fuckin fortune cookie but...once in awhile those fortune cookies bring the wisdom unexpectedly.

anyway, should i even post this? alright, here you go.

[photo: me. summer 2008. prospect park. devouring a wendy's chocolate frosty. cuz i felt like it. that shit was GOOD AS HEAVEN.]


i love being a performer. talking to my boi today i told him that i used to leave my political on the stage and then return to my fucked up personal life.

fucked up right?

fucked up when the way you livin and the way you spittin don't match. been reading my older poems tonight. gonna post some later. i wanna be proud enough of how i live to be able to say that shit on stage to strangers and friends. and today, i'm alright with sharing that shit with the whole world. so i'm thankful. thankful i match.


i used to wear anger like a mask,
like the only garment that fit in my emotional wardrobe.
you knew it was me comin
cuz my rage preceded me,
let you know who was in the fuckin building
and i bet you assumed that i was a bitch
or hella hard
or too political (whatever the fuck that means)
or just really really REALLY FUCKIN ANGRY.
and maybe you never stepped to my ass
cuz you couldn't see the person
beneath the fine-tuned machine of my hetero-patriarchy,-white-supremacy,-colonization-deconstructing verbal acrobatics.
i don't know exactly what you were thinking
but i know what i was: i thought you were stupid or didn't care or didn't understand me
and woe was me:
misunderstood with my nirvana, ani difranco, tupac shakur fuck the world blasting in my headphones/
a dyke like me
done outgrown those garments--
but don't get it twisted
my ass can still rock that anger like fury from the core of the earth raging with the intensity of mamaland ancestral lyrical libations like WHAT?!
i can still move a crowd
like my tongue can move my lover
but sometimes
i just wanna be easy and shit--
converse with
instead of talk at/
i was never as hard as i seemed
i just used my words to let you know
how much i cared/
the anger in me surpassed by nothing
except my love for humanity
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