Friday, October 29, 2010

Juneteenth Palestine: Report from the Living Room

Greetings Eternal Summer Family!

Last night was the kick-off of Juneteenth Palestine, a night school exploring June Jordan's actions and words in support of the fact that solidarity with Palestine and critique of the imperialism of the state of Israel was and is a Black feminist priority. This first night was about identifcation and solidarity. We brought our ancestors and loved ones into the room through a dedication exercise, meditated on June Jordan's "Moving Towards Home," where she declares "I was born a Black woman/and now I am become a Palestinian" and Suheir Hammad's meditation on "Black" in the preface to her collection Born Palestinian Born Black with collages, a BlackOutBodyBrainstorm, a telecast from anti-zionist Jewish organizer Tema Okun and a letter writing exercise based on June Jordan's "A Letter to My Friend." Experiencing the sincerity and brilliance of the folks in my living room was an honor and a true tribute to June Jordan's idea of Living Room as a global political vision of love. In honor of all displaced people here are some of our visions of living room...



Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Keeping it Hot! Little Black Feminist Book Series Vol. 2 (FIRE)

Eternal Summer means keeping it hot...This beautiful black booklet joins the legacy of Harlem Renaissance firebrands and the brilliant youth of SPARK reproductive justice (see It includes lust poems and polemics to/for/about black queer community and an essay on FLAMBOYANCE dedicated to Alexis DeVeaux and Gwendolyn Hardwick of the Flamboyant Ladies!

I know you want your very own! So paypal 15 bucks to and include your current address. Thanks for keeping the Eternal Summer ETERNAL!

or just this link if it is easier:



p.s. oh and there's a matching podcast!

Friday, October 15, 2010

Cameron Village (or u scared)

Cameron Village (or u scared)

Raleigh, North Carolina

(After Audre Lorde’s “Generation”)



How our faces are broken

splinters into rage over ages

rages into splinters of ages of always

facing the breaking of truth

how we remember to live

is a question

we grow into

if we’re lucky.


(what if?)

what if love could sing in every key

what if every touch every open every close


a sacred reminder that love

was all we needed.

what if it is not our held hands

our open mouths our ready boots

what if it is our simple joy

that makes us golden

makes us gay.


(u scared)

We are seizing your limited power

Cameron Village

your crept up promise

that children will beat the hope out of each other

and sell it to their parents for silence.

Who would come to your latched city of falsehood

Cameron Village, to hear

your warning that that love is not welcome

your indecent and rehearsed rejection

slippery with the spit of slave names

to hear you warn us

that you know what we know

that you have drunk a river of nothing

just to protect your even more nothing

your unquenchable failure.


(what we know)

You know what we know

even one even two even three glimpses

of what we know how to do

which is love

is danger

that if anyone saw who we are

what we have

they would batter your doors with return receipts

they would dig up your parking lot to farm

they would never buy your sham semblance of somewhere to sit

you know that you know what we know

and we know


if anyone saw

the love that we have

they would never buy