Drunken Stupor

Posted in humor, just for the bull of it, poetry, social commentary with tags , , , on February 27, 2010 by joelle blackstarr

i’ve fallen!

i stumble home as the sun comes up,

drunk as cooder brown,

puke still dribbling down

my chin.

the key won’t fit, and out comes a “sh*t!”

car key, door key,

why me?

now who the h*ell has

moved my couch?!

ouch!  that hurt!

as i hit the floor,

i’m laughing loud and hardy,

as i recall

“i’ve fallen and i can’t get up!”

laughter overtakes me and i say it again.

but i get up just the same,

can’t even remember my name,

and this sure ain’t no pretty picture.

never again, oh, never again,

i promise the porcelain god.

i swear, I swear – never again!

just, please, make it stop!

i sit there, gathering my composure,

stinking of gin,

wondering when

i’ve felt like this before.

right:  last weekend,

me and a no-count friend.

oops!  here comes that ‘tini, again.

that one was apple.

wasn’t there a cherry one down there?

that’s the one that needs to come up for air.

one shoe off, lying on the bed,

one too many drinks in my head;

room still spinning,

and i’m still grinning at something that

wasn’t nearly that funny.

so, how much money did i spend this time?

i swear – if you make it stop,

i’ll never do this again.

please, oh please . . . make it stop!

copyright  2008 © blackstarr (aka freedom)


“Mama Told Me Not To Come” by Three Dog Night

I Go To Sleep

Posted in humor, satire and sarcasm, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 23, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

The events of the last few days have been quite surreal, particularly on the night that my mother was in the hospital, depending on life support to keep her going. My sister and I were there already and the doctor said that it would be best if we took mom off of support as it is probably causing her more pain than doing any good. We insisted that she be kept going at least until my brother gets to the hospital. He arrived, he kissed mom on the cheek, and my mom’s life, as we knew it, was over. It was like a scene out of a movie: the parent refuses to die until all of their children are assembled before them. Waaay too surreal. Well, if you know even just a little bit about me, you know that I don’t do “touchy-feely” and, yes – that was touchy-feely. I had my reasons, which will come to light. For now, amidst our tragedy . . . comic relief.

I know that in some way or another, we will all find ourselves either depending on life support or already past that point, awaiting that ride across the River Styx. Before my time gets here, I plan to grab fifteen minutes of fame, along with about an hour more thrown in for good measure. Now, before my fellow Christians crucify me, it goes without saying that all things that I hope for are proceeded with the phrase “God willing”, for I can only accomplish the things that God allows for me. On the other hand, I’ve never been politically correct either – I just try to tell it like it is – without the wordplay.

So, if – or more appropriately – when I have obtained that fame (with the extra hour), I should be filthy rich. I hope that you’re paying attention because there will be a test later in life. All of this obligates each of you and gives you yet one more responsibility. “How so?”, I hear you asking. Well, believe it or not, I love you tweeple, you people, you Field Negroes (as opposed to the House Negroes), and as such, you will probably be in my will. In fact, you WILL be in my will. That’s where your obligation comes in. There is a headline that you should be looking for at some point in the future. If a particular situation should come to pass, it will probably read something like this:

“Famed writer and director blackstarr lies on life support as friends and family argue back and forth about pulling the plug or keeping him going!”

Drop whatever you’re doing and hop a “red-eye” to Philly if you have to! Don’t you let them pull any plugs !!! Don’t listen to what some foolish doctor has to say!!! KEEP ME GOING FOR AS LONG AS THERE IS MONEY IN MY ACCOUNT!!!! I hear you thinking already: Dude, that is expensive as H*ll. Remember that by that time, I will be filthy rich. Leave me in whatever room they put me in and have the specialist flown in everyday to check on me. You see, the more they move me, the more the chance of a cord coming loose or some dingbat nurse plugging in things the wrong way. And why should you care? I told you – you’re in the will. As long as my wishes are carried out, you all will be taken care of.

Here’s the second headline for which you should be on the lookout:

“Funeral services for blackstarr will be held . . .”

Again – stop whatever you’re doing and get back to Philly, making sure that there is no funeral, no memorial, no repast, nor anything remotely resembling any of the above. The beautiful and dazzling woman could not have put it better: “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina!”. I reiterate her words over and over. Don’t cry for me. I am but a starving artist at the moment, yet even at this point in my life, I can say that I have lived a wonderful life. At that point in my life, you KNOW that I will have had a great time. So please . . . shed no tears for me.

I like fire. I like the flames that it produces. I like the colors that it creates. I was born on February 1st and, as a result, nearly every party that I’ve thrown in my adult life has ended up in near disaster. I remember one year it snowed so badly that three people showed up: my girlfriend, the bartender, and me! So, more than anything else, I like the warmth that emanates from that fire. When I die, cremate me! Let my a$$ burn until there is nothing left but ashes! When it’s all over, take a trip to the west coast and scatter my ashes in the Pacific Ocean so that I can watch the sun set everyday. No tears for the kid!

It’s important that you carry out my wishes and for good reason. Remember first that, by that time, you’ve got big bucks coming your way. More importantly, I don’t care if I have 500 million dollars in the bank – If there is a memorial, a burial, a funeral, any of those things that I mentioned before or anything close, all of my money will go to charity. Just so that we are clear, let me say that one more time: all of my money will go to charity! I HATE that “touchy-feely” stuff! I can’t control it in anyone else’s life, but I should certainly be able to control it in my own. Did you know that some lady left her fortune to all of her cats? Did you know that a man in England left his money to the care of a tree in the wilderness? You can do that, you know.

Later in life, there will be a test. By then, this blog may have long been deleted, or may be inaccessible, or any number of untimely circumstances may prevent you from re-reading this. So, if you don’t know how, learn: copy, paste, save to file. That way, you will have notes to look back on when the test comes, and it will be “open-book”. Don’t be caught with the dumb-look on your face wondering “What do I do now?” Copy, paste, save to file.

Just make sure that you shed no tears for me. To that end, make certain that there are no services held – key word: cremation. But if that plug is keeping me alive, do everything in your power to keep it plugged in. Ya never know! Peace.


© 2009 freedom
“I Go To Sleep” by Sia

Death Of An Angel

Posted in relationships, social commentary with tags on December 22, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

My wonderful, loveable mom passed last night.  No matter how much you prepare, death comes as a shock.  She wasn’t in the best of health but she got around easily and rarely ever complained about anything.  Just a few short hours before, she was wrapping up the last of her Christmas presents, laughing and passing on one of her many tales of days gone by.  We stood there in the hospital, my sister, my brother, and me, in total disbelief that our rock, our greatest love had made her way into heaven.  I miss you already, but, you’re safe now, in the hands of the Lord.  Ehrlean Baxter, I love you now and ever.  Peace.

freerealm@gmail.com freedom 2009

Wordle 002

Posted in social commentary on November 22, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

Wordle: i am the wordsmith

from the poem “i am the wordsmith by blackstarr © 2008


Wordle 001

Posted in Wordles on November 22, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

Wordle: blackstarr_ 3


copyright 2009 freedom


Where the h*ll have YOU been?!

Posted in social commentary with tags , , , , on September 16, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

M.I.A. is too good a term for my lack of postings.  That term, for me, brings back thoughts of heroes who disappeared while stationed in Vietnam.  I’m no hero but I was, indeed, missing . . . for quite some time.  I won’t say that I’m back, but, rather, making my presence known and alerting the world that I am still here and very much alive.

electronic chip 01

There was another incident that kept me off the electronic highway – my DSL went down for over a week!  As it turned out, my modem was bad.  VERIZON sent me another one poste-haste and after connecting it, my DSL was still down.  Of course while all of this is going on, keep in mind that I was back and forth with customer service (yes – I use the term very lightly).  Each and every rep with whom I spoke was extremely “English challenged”, to coin a phrase.  The “final” outcome was that there was a problem on my line.  Now, I retired from VERIZON when I was a service tech (one who installs and repairs telephone service for a living), and I assure you that there was no problem on my line.  After a few days, I was told that there was a problem in the office, not my line.  I don’t have a video phone but I can say with certainty that both a Black man and an Hispanic man called me to say that there was no trouble in the office.  The real problem was that the modem that I was sent was very new and quite complicated to configure.  They told me what to ask for when I next called for technical assistance.  When I called, I asked for the very same – to no avail.  I called the Hispanic gent back and told him of my quandary and he said that he could do nothing to help me as he was not trained in that capacity.  He was, however, very gracious in transferring me to the Black gent with whom I had spoken earlier.  He took about ten minutes of my time telling me what to do and, voila, my DSL was back up and working.  I was extremely pleased that my problem had been solved, but, I think that I was more impressed by having two gents  assist me who spoke fluent English!

twitter_logo 01

That is when my “mobile troubles” began.  TWITTER is nothing more than time wasted foolishly.  It is not productive, is non-utilitarian, and the same results can be accomplished by already existing entities.  However – non-productive, non-utilitarian, and redundancy is exactly what I’ve been looking for – blind indulgence, if you will.  Ever since my DSL went down, I have not been able to log in to my mobile TWITTER account.  I accomplished that feat yesterday while inside. next to my PC and was whistling Dixie when it happened.  However, once back outside and in the public arena, I could not log in with my cell phone.  I was distressed once again.  I tweeted last night that I hope to have a decent cell phone by the end of the week and all of my “tweet” troubles will be behind me.  We shall see.

Evony 01

I also spent a lot – no wait – an extreme amount of time playing a MMORPG (Massively Multi-playing Online Role Play Game) entitled EVONY (which can be found at evony.com).  It is a game that combines a sim-type game, a role-play game, and a war game for an exciting and time-consuming experience.  I won’t even go into details as I could go on for forever about the game, but, if you have the time and patience and don’t mind becoming addictive to yet another distraction, head to the site and let the fun begin.  I know – I’ve already said it, but, let me reiterate – extremely addictive!

whoopigoldberg 01

My e-troubles brought up an interesting thought:  why is it that when our technological toys are not responding properly, we lose our minds?  I love the time spent with my children.  I bike ride with my best bud just about every weekend and it brings on hours of fun and conversation.  I can go for days without turning on the TV, radio, or my MP3 player.  Yet, when the internet and all of its wealth of information becomes unavailable, I swear that I just about lose it.  It’s almost like my world has come to an end.  Sad, indeed.  I’m not (all that) embarrassed to let you know that I am a somewhat fan of  The View (on ABC).  Believe it or not, I can’t take my eyes off of Whoopi and Sherri.  Yeah – sue me.  At any rate, I quote their motto that is used at the end of each show: “Take some time to enjoy the view”.  Peace.

copyright © 2009 freedom


“It’s A Beautiful Morning” by Felix Cavaliere and Edward Brigati

“It’s A Beautiful Morning” by The Wipe Outs

Sample 3 from “the wordsmith’s alley”

Posted in social commentary on May 19, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

i am the wordsmith

i am the wordsmith,

the thought weaver,

the literary sculptist.

i am the master of word manipulation.

I am the witch doctor

of the spoken word.

i work my magic

in an unconventional style,

just to see you smile.

i invoke the magic

of an ordinary word.

i am the voodoo priest of language,

performing literary incantations.

i sprinkle recherché gems

into your ears,



thoughts and words

that keep you fantasizing.

i am the accumulator of words,

the collector of thoughts,

the purveyor of rhythmic chant.

i bring nuance to the monotone.

i am off the beaten path,

light years from the mundane,

miles away from boring lane.

i formulate complexities

from the simplest of thoughts.

i bring you something new

that you’ve never heard,

and give new meaning to the word “word”.

i am the wordsmith,

the thought weaver,

the literary sculptist.

i am the master of word manipulation.

copyright  2008  blackstarr

Sample 2 from “the wordsmith’s alley”

Posted in social commentary on May 19, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

with shades of e e

i find the comma not uncommon
they infiltrate my sentences
they are everywhere
tearing apart creating mere fragments
of what once was a creative thought
the comma becomes saturation liquidation
an over abundance of concentration
it is like so many ghetto bars
so many inner city scars
like so many roaches and rats
and sunday go to meeting hats
you will forgive me if i say
knowing clearly that what i meant was
i drop the comma to forget to mindslip the over abundance

and why would i even give thought to the use of the period
it is an ending
a death of sorts
so final
or too
it turns my endless verse into something so finite
i dare not use three of them separated by spaces
for then my original thought perfect and correct becomes flawed
for now i must subsidize my original thought
perfect correct with yet another
they placed a period upon my beloved land
by dropping crack into the palm of my hand
put a virus into a sensuality that once was grand
yes i omit the terminal period in hopes that our posterity
is timeless and never ending

intentionally there is no use of the powerless semi colon
it falls short in its imitation of the colon
not quite good enough to be whole
there but to cause hesitation
to make one flinch
in the face of what is to come
that langston spoke of a dream deferred
we listen
as farrakhan gives us the final word
but it flees
like the musical quickness of bird
my words and thoughts will not fall short
by the use of the semi colon
they will survive or better yet thrive
my words will not instigate my reader to hesitate

you will not find the mark that exclaims
as it only helps to fan the flames
and to perpetuate those media games
it is missing from my passage as
it merely serves to incite
it causes one to over react
to lose that natural coolness
which we regard as everyday fact
adding one more too many headlines
last night another drive by shooting
inner city crowds turn to looting
while agent orange is still polluting
the mark that exclaims
has no place in the lines that i write
i tone down my message so as not to incite
my messages are toned down so as to soothe

would i have cause to capitalize
are not two letters both of equal value
without capital isms all are created the same
why should i give one letter more recognition than another
when there is no given proof that one is the greater
the sphinx once had a royal ethiopian nose
but the british quickly eliminated those
because it was my face that the artist chose
capital isms separate over time they devastate
no two remain equal
hence i choose not to capitalize
nor to lend help otherwise
in creating the illusion that one is better than another

and finally i expunge the query as to me it brings to mind
but one word
that being what
not what as a thing
but what as in please repeat
are my words not loud enough
that they might be heard without reiteration over and again
did huey not resound his every word
is what michael sings really so absurd
why does jesse speak but is seldom heard
i refuse to query that which is loud and clear
in hopes that others might also listen and hear
the query would have one believe that a voice was never heard
when all the while





copyright 1997 blackstarr

Sample 1 from “the wordsmith’s alley”

Posted in social commentary on May 19, 2009 by joelle blackstarr

open mike night at the coffee shop slash cyber bar(and you with a front-row seat)

sister naomi

was loud and clear.

she blasphemed your yesterdays,

cursed your tomorrows,

laughed at your pathetic, whiny sorrows.

she wanted you to hear

what was relevant for today,

and demanded that you hear what she had to say.

she shouted obscene truths,

confronted all of the lies,

then, dubbed you foolishly wise.

she chastised, demoralized,

then insincerely apologized.

sister naomi was loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

black wonder

was loud and clear.

he called you “dear”.

a red-hot, burning flame who

sashayed, and swayed, and played

upon your fears.

he told you that

his sexual preference was contagious,

and all the while, outrageous

rantings of equality filled the air.

he shrieked and freaked you out,

hoped you knew that it was all about

the sapien having always been homo,

about union for all, rights for all,

about “hetero thinking” about to take a fall.

black wonder was loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

the smoking gunn

were loud and clear.

they echoed off of each other’s

individual vibration,

words flowing in syncopation.

they spoke of conspiracies

both hidden and clear,

about wars on a new frontier.

they spoke solo,

then duo,

then back to a trio,

sneering at the so-called neo.

they hissed their poison at right-wing status quos,

and scoffed at their erstwhile political foes.

the smoking gunn were loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

copyright 2008 blackstarr

Pirates In The House Of Somalia

Posted in political commentary, politics with tags , , , , , , on April 16, 2009 by joelle blackstarr


I had the pleasure of visiting The Unmitigated Word for a post concerning the piracy taking place in Somalia (see Defending yarrrrr-self?). The discussion was, as usual, both lively and heated. While the author did not endorse these acts of piracy, the post was basically questioning whetherthese acts of piracy could be chalked up to self-defense”. As the discussion went back and forth, the idea was presented that perhaps we should be “examining the “why”; the circumstances contributing to those tragedies are just as important as casting blame and pointing fingers”. As a result of that discussion, I have reprinted a post from 2007 regarding the real story of “Black Haw Down”, and addressing one particular reason for “examining the ‘why'”.


Black Hawk Down!

Do a search for Somalia, July 12, 1993, and you will certainly find quite a bit of information available. Most of the information will give a brief summary of what took place that day in Somalia. The most (so-called) significant information that is placed in the forefront is that the U.S. fired upon a house which was to have been occupied by the one person they so desperately sought. In the forefront, you will read that, afterward, five (5) journalists went in to investigate and were killed. Always associated with that story, you will read that several months later a Black Hawk was down, downed by the leader that the U.S. had so desperately sought. The one thing that most reports fail to include is that the targeted house which the U.S. destroyed, housed not the enemy that was being sought: The house contained more than fifty (50) of the clan elders from Somalia, the eldest and most respected in their community. Ironically, they were gathered together to discuss a plan to stop the fighting and bloodshed. When the day was done, they all lay dead.

It never fails to bring a tear to my eye when I read that yet another U.S. soldier has been killed. The tears formed in the seventies, during the Vietnam War. They formed in the eighties during the fighting in Grenada. Finally, they formed again in the nineties, when I read the headlines “Black Hawk Down!”. Unfortunately, as with most of the media, reports about what happens on any given day, highlight one aspect of a story, and downplay some very significant part of what really took place. July 12, 1993 was one such rearranging of the facts. Five (5) reporters were killed because a few moments earlier, Somalia’s most revered leaders were blasted to smithereens without provocation. Later that year, a “Black Hawk was down” because the U.S. had launched an attack on those who were trying to put an end to that very same type of action. General Thomas Montgomery (ret), who was in charge of operations that day, was interviewed by PBS’s FRONTLINE, regarding the events of that fateful day. He would not state that there were leaders left dead in the house. He danced around the issue by saying “When the soldiers got in the building, there were either dead or wounded . . .”.

Before there was a Black Hawk down, more than fifty (50) of Somalia’s leaders lay dead.


Please note that after the building was bombed, four (4) Western journalists, including the renown Daniel Eldon, entered the building and were killed by “an angry mob”. This was at the top of the headlines for more than a week or so. What was left out was that the elders of Somalia had been killed just moments before while attending a peaceful meeting. As suggested at The Unmitigated Word, perhaps we should learn to take a closer look and understand the “why”.

copyright © 2007, 2009 freedom