Adrienne Zurub

OVERachiever/Author/GrownAssWoman/rn/ ICONoclast/beholderoftheZEITGEIST/Writer/ quietly LOUD

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Sum'n Bout Dat Melanin

(The) Dialectic Dialogues
For our purposes, a dialogue is primarily (particularly in philosophy) a method of inquiry and a mode of reasoning. It is a structured conversation aimed at discovering truth, testing ideas, and exposing contradictions through logical argumentation. The goal is not to lecture but to “give birth” to knowledge already within the respondent, often by revealing the flaws in their initial assumptions. The underlying principle is that knowledge is recollection; that which can be reasoned from a matured core, analogous to Kant’s Categorical Imperatives. Yet, noting the knowledge of recollection is more likely derived from the empiricism of Hume.

Here, my Dialectic Dialogue is a process where a thesis (an idea) is challenged by its antithesis (a counter-idea), leading to a conflict that is resolved in a synthesis (a new, higher-level idea). The synthesis then becomes...

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The American Seed: Slavery, Hybridization, and the Creation of a New Indigenous People—the ADOS

“Never be afraid, whatever it is, that’s it’s too beautiful or terrible to tell.” -Ntozake Shange

PART I: The Smelting Soil

The LOUD silence
My grandparents, parents, and relatives, were forged in the smelting soil of the Deep South.

My father was born and raised on a sharecropper farm in the Deep South of Georgia. His grandparents, and a host of formerly enslaved great grandparents, did live on the same farm, in clustered shotgun abodes. My father, grandparents, uncles, aunts, and his cousins, and as I vaguely recall the telling, their whole ass town were part of the Great Migration north in the 1940’s.
I did not know what the term ‘Deep South’ meant.
I did not know the crush of what those familial localities signified.
Shielded, I knew nothing of their backstories … then, just fragments of a large puzzle with pieces spoken as ‘grown folks business’.
I had no historical scrim with...

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Dead Roses

“Today I found my son’s head, ten days after finding his body.
I am now carrying it to his grave, my heart pounding with joy.
Today I can give him a complete death.
Today I can weep for him as I should.”
—Palestinian father

HisHead

SLAM

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Bridgette & the Red bull

‘Brigette and the Red Bull’
(8-13-2016)

SHE …
sits near me
on the bench at Dave’s
folded into/onto herself …
drinking the LARGEST can of Red Bull I have ever seen!

I regard her … covertly

blacken white tennis shoes
unlaced
with worn sides that fit the shape of her busied feet …
her petite hands/ are …
dwarfed …
gripping the phallic Red Bull can …
i regard her

stained finger tips with uneven nailbeds …
evoke her arduous climbing on this mountain of life.
you know …
the fortunate choose … their summits
others ….
have it placed before them

I regard her

her eyes are light brown & dulled
they look tortured …
directed in what must be done

I regard her

her hair … is a kinky golden brown …
tossed & matted ‘in her kitchen’
in a ‘no fucks’ tired gathering

her shapely cracked lips will be beautiful again … one day … when the stealth determination is eased

I regard her

all...

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Cleveland-NBA-Darwinism

I do not understand ‘it’
THIS
in the ‘Land’
viewed from privied space
distant … closeness
the relentless chorus of excited screams

crescendos of baptismal cheers
for
a rubberized ball
a metal hoop
the fierce skillz of …
BLACK lithe phenoms
adored/cherished/worshipped
Black Supermen!

with this NBA Finals win …
we embrace each other
we … embrace
we cry together
we cry … tears … of joy
we high-five
we … touch
we congratulate
we …
we speak in communal tongues of … familiarity

there is no … black
there is no … white
there is no … other
there is …
just us
AND

HATRED melts timely …
into puddles beneath our feet
on crippled knees Clevelanders
STAND erect

SHOUTS
a young reveler …
“This is the greatest day of my life!”
to one … now … “ol-der”
THE
ever activist/no-guard-down
amongst motherless children and mothers without …
YET
caught in the throes of the ‘Land’s’ oft delayed...

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Sailing - Santa Barbara, CA

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(photo credit:adrienne zurub)

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‘Cleveburg’ aka Cleveland … Da Flats

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(photocredit:adrienne zurub)

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REFLECTION

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(photo credit: Adrienne Zurub)©

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DOPE … af??

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(photo credit:Adrienne Zurub)©

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WELCOME … RNC (not)

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(photo credit:Adrienne Zurub)

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