Tag Archive | Tyler Perry

Somebody Almost Walked Off with All of My Stuff/Don’t You Remember

*edited & truncated for Syntax and Meaning*

Say what you want about Mr. Winston Jerome Tyler Perry, but the man is a Genius when it comes to evoking emotion with his movies.  Add to that Loretta Devine (who is quickly becoming one of my favorite actresses), and For Colored Girls is a movie that is speaking to me right now.

The last 8 months, have been hard on me.  The culmination of it being my “relationship” with MM.  I have been trying to explain to folks, how I felt, and watching For Colored Girls tonight finally helped me figure it out.  Let me share with you the words that have finally set me free.

Who is this you left me with?

Some simple bitch ‘with a bad attitude?

I wants my things . . . I want my arm wit the hot iron scar . . .& my leg wit the
 flea bite

I want my calloused feet & quick language back 
in my mouth

I remember when I looked myself in the mirror.  I remember when I woke up in the morning, and said to myself, “Go be Awesome today.” I remember being so confident that it annoyed other people.  Then I look at my couch, and I remember how safe I felt laying on it with him. I remember his hands, slowly running up and down my neck, telling me how happy he was to be here with me.

Stealin my shit from me, don’t make it yours

Makes it stolen . . . Somebody almost run off with alla my stuff

It wasn’t a spirit took my stuff, it was a man whose 
ego walked round like Rodan’s shadow

It was a man faster
 than my innocence  . . . was a lover I made too much 
room for

And the one runnin with it, don’t know {or care that}  he got it

My stuff is the anonymous ripped off treasure
 of the year

I used to ridicule women who acted like the loss of a man was the end of their world.  I think, because I felt that inside me, I tried to hide it, and pretended to be completely over it.  Recently, when I realized I didn’t have enough fight in me, to prove myself to an 18 year old white girl, I realized that I was still screaming after him, “Gimme Back alla My Stuff!”

Knowing that this isn’t on his radar, that he so easily . . . set me . . . aside . . . was an ego blow that I wasn’t ready for.  Hadn’t mentally prepared myself for, hadn’t taken the proper spiritual precautions for.  Everything before was an Iota compared to this . . . this . . . vacancy that was left in my soul.

I loved you on purpose . . . .I was open on purpose . . . & I still crave vulnerability & close talk

Even though, I am recovering . . . Even though I can at times see a glimmer of light that the end of this seemingly endless tunnel.  Even though people keep telling me that it has to get better, even though things are going in a more positive direction, there is still a level of fear that I can’t seem to shake.  A voice inside of me that keeps saying, “Remember what happened last time you got comfortable? Remember what happened last time you thought you had it all under control?”

When was the last time, You thought of me?
Or have you completely erased me from your memory
I often think about where I went wrong?  The more I do the less I know . . . .

I’m tired of remembering.  I’m tired of this person that I have become.  I am tired of being ashamed that I let someone take a part of me, when everything that I was raised to believed says that this is MY FAULT.  That I left myself get . . . taken.  That I was freely giving pieces of myself, and I have no one to blame for this . . . vacancy . . . love don’t live here . . . anymore.

I think these thoughts, and write these things, knowing that others will see this, and think less of me because of my honesty.  But I never lied before, and I am not going to lie now.  I’m not over him, don’t know if I ever will be.  I think it’s going to take me at least 6 months of stability before I can finally look myself in the mirror and say, You’re okay. Until then, there are good days and bad days.  Days where I almost forget how I got here, but then . . . .I Remember.

For Colored Girls who Hate Tyler Perry when Common Sense isn’t Enuf . . .

Okay, I was really trying not to have to do this.  Me defending Tyler Perry is like Lady Gaga having lunch with a General who supports Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Shit is just not congruent. But it must be done. IT MUST BE DONE. I need for all of you sanctimonious, all-knowing, Pegro, au-naturael Black Women to SHUT THE FUCK UP about Tyler Perry and his version of For Colored Girls.  I know, at this point, some of you already hate me, and that’s FINE. You can hate me if you want to, but I’m still gonna say what I need to say.

 

 

I must share, that “For Colored Girls who Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf” is my mother’s favorite Book.  When I was 4, I told her about my favorite book {Pat the Bunny} and she told me that her favorite book changed her life.  When I said I wanted to read it, she told me I had to be older.  When I was older, she told me all the poems she could remember.   For her birthday last year, I found her an original Hardcover First edition of the book.  She Cried. {I’m a Good Daughter}

 

For Colored Girls was written in a time of emotional expression and liberation for Black Women.  It made such an impact, because it spoke to the secret problems of an entire GENERATION of black women.  It spoke to the situations they put themselves in, as well as situations they had no control over.  The places they went based on their circumstances, and the struggle to face the world as a Colored Girl.  It’s a POWERFUL statement of the women of that time, this can’t be denied.  But is it the best written play of all time, NO. Are there parts that every women can relate to, yes?  Was it written for everyone, NO.

 

All that being said, Lets Discuss the EVIL Tyler Perry and his movie adaptation.  FCGWHCSWTRiE is a Choreo-Poem.  It involves dancing, singing, and a large stage, usually with several things going on at once.  The only way he would have been able to do the Poem complete justice would have been staging it like the screenplay, and just filming that. But he didn’t, because the impact of some of the poems would have been lost in translation, or to the people that he was making the film for.

 

 

Please Note: I feel that its time for Tyler Perry to let Madea Go. He doesn’t need her anymore to make statements about the world in general.  His best movies, are movies that were orignal screenplays, or things that he adapted.  Why Did I get Married, while it started out as a play didn’t include Madea, and the movie spoke for itself.  The Family that Preys was such a good movie.  Not a sign of Coonery at all. Plus, he was able to turn Sanaa Lathan {The most loved Rom-Com Black Star ever} into a raving bitch, and no one tried to kill him for that.

 

 

 

For Colored Girls is an AWESOME ASS MOVIE. Stop trying to pick at every single thing and compare it to the book/play. It was NEVER meant to be that.  The fact that he was able to take 20 different poems, and make them flow in one movie is a feat in and of itself.  Yes, the delivery of the poems was not done as in the play, but then at times I think it was actually more powerful to see one person do a poem {Anika Noni Rose doing Latent Rapists’} or {Macy Gray doing I Usedta Live in the World}. If you had never read the book, or seen the play, and if Tyler Perry’s name hadn’t been attached to the project, I wonder if people would be so negative about the movie.

 

 

Tyler Perry isn’t male bashing in the movie.  The POEM does that for him.  Actually, the poem doesn’t bash either, it just tells the story.  You take from it what you will. Even Ms. Shange said “Per square inch, there are more negative images of black men in your average rap song or television cop show than in my choreopoem”. He didn’t change any of the male characters, except for creating Hill Harper’s, cuz he didn’t actually exist.  He added a positive role. How is he male bashing? He’s presenting things that actually happen to Black Women.  Maybe, yall are mad because Black Women can relate more to “mean/low-down/triflin/& no count” men than they can a positive male influence.  Or maybe, everyone that had something bad to say about the movie are people who have Good Men and Good Black Male experiences.  You are the EXCEPTION, not the got damn rule.

You live in a bubble, of good men and happy lives.  The reality is, Black Women are taken advantage of all the time.  They are hurt, beat down, bruised and broken by black men from Birth to the Grave.  From the Daddy that never cared, to the Ball Player who raped her, to the Boss who sexually harassed her, to the Husband that cheated.  Life ain’t no crystal stair.  Stop pretending like it is.  Ignoring the problem {Lack of Positive, influence Black Males in the lives of these young women} isn’t going to make it go away.  It’s okay if you have a great life.  It’s great.  {Honestly, TP needs to do more movies about how Black Women tear each other down all the damn time, but that’s another blog for another time.}

But, then again,  what have you done for the people who haven’t had a great life?  How many hoodrats have you talked to today?  We all judge, but make sure your judgement is focused on the right person.  Tyler Perry attempts to relate to Black Women because he knows that Black Men aren’t listening to him.  And that shit is REAL. We, as women, have to also take responsibility for the situations that we put ourselves in.  We aren’t helpless creatures who have been guided down the wrong path {all the time}.

Did he truncate some of the poems, yes.  Did he assign poems to the wrong colors, yes. Was Whoppi’s character Bat Shit Crazy, yes. But the message of Ntozake Shange was still there.  The message that we as Colored Girls have to SPEAK about the problems and the issues, and WORK TOGETHER to help each other deal with them.  In July of 2010, Ms. Shange met with the cast of For Colored Girls, and had this to say . . .

” That ‘For Colored Girls’ continues to resonate so profoundly almost forty years after I first set pen to paper is bittersweet for me. Thought we have achieved many a milestone, the stories and struggles of our lives as women, and in particular, women of color, are still not granted the full address due.”

I will end this rant/review/blog with MY favorite Poem from For Colored Girls entitled – No Assistance

without any assistance or guidance from you
i have loved you assiduously for 8 months 2 wks & a day
i have been stood up four times
i’ve left 7 packages on yr doorstep
forty poems 2 plants & 3 handmade notecards i left
town so i could send to you

you have been no help to me, on my job
you call at 3:00 in the mornin on weekdays
so i could drive 27 1/2 miles cross the bay before i go to work
charmin charmin, but you are of no assistance

i want you to know, this waz an experiment
to see how selfish i couldd be
if i would really carry on to snare a possible lover
if i waz capable of debasin my self for the love of another
if i could stand not being wanted, when i wanted to be wanted
& i cannot
so
with no further assistance & no guidance from you
i am endin this affair

this note is attached to a plant
i’ve been watering since the day i met you
you may water it
yr damn self

I Can Do Bad All By Myself/Oh Lord, I Want You to Help Me

Somebody told me once that pain is a game we all gotta play.
Then why am in over time & sudden death every other day
I know that for the good of life there’s a price we all gota pay
But ill pay till im poor and I still dont know . . . . .what it is to have a good day

I wasn’t supposed to write this blog today.  I can tell you that because BOTH my laptops stopped working, at the same time, because these words were on my heart, and I had to get them out.  And The Devil didn’t want me to.  I’m not usually the person that blames the Devil when things go wrong, but I’m going to give him ALL THE CREDIT for this one. Anyway, back to the purpose of this blog.

I lived my life  thinking, I Can Do Bad All By Myself.  I didn’t want anyone to know exactly what my issues were.  It hurts to let people know are weak.  That you can’t deal with the everyday things that most people deal with without major breakdowns.  So I lived my life, hiding the pain and the hurt and the everything else.

Freshman Year of College, 2nd day there, I had a attend the Gospel Music Workshop for the Ebony Heritage Singers.  Our Teacher sang a song that I had known all my life, In The Garden.  ON THE FLOOR CRYING. It was like God was telling me that I wasn’t alone.  That this whole time, he had been walking beside me, just waiting on me to notice.

Everything else in my life had blinded me from the one thing I needed to know, that I wasn’t alone.

You Just Don’t Wanna Know


“Now it’s true that God is always there,  He said He’d never leave.

But at times the human touch is what I need.

And if I had a dime for every time

I tried to call your name.

Some tell me, I’d be wealthy . . . “

I turned my back on a friend, in her time of need, because I really didn’t want to know.  I wasn’t able to deal with her pain, because I was living in mine.  It’s very hard to now try to mend that relationship, because I did to her what I never wanted done to me . . . I walked away.

I think the reason this movie means so much to me, is because I saw my story behind all the theatrics.

If you don’t talk about something, it will never heal.

So all these blogs I have written this year are just that, me talking about it.  ME letting it GO.  This whole healing process had been hard, because at times we don’t want to discuss how much we need the help of others.  We see crying out for help as a sign of weakness, that it someone makes up less than a person.  Because everyone you encounter seems to be perfectly capable of living their life.  Pain/Guilt/Hurt Free.

It wasn’t until I started being HONEST about the things that caused me so much pain, that I found out people I thought had a perfect life were in as much or more pain as I was. This isn’t a blog about my pain, because my pain is gone (or at least it feels that way).

This blog is about that moment, when you realize that you have done all the steps.  You  have admitted all your faults, laid yourself bare for the world to see.  Some people just don”t want to know, and you will find out who they are.  But after you have done all that then what?

Oh Lord, I Want You To Help Me.

You can’t ask the Lord to Heal You.  He doesn’t have a magic healing wand.  You can’t ask God to just make it go away, then wait on him to do all the work.  Just out of your friends, how many people do you know who call on God everyday? He’s got so much work to do.  He can’t be the principle person in your recovery.

“I pray every night girl, and it just doesn’t seem to get better.”

My question to you is, What Are You Praying For? What are you asking of the Lord? Because he can’t make you forget the pain.  He can’t make you forget the times when you felt all alone in the world.  He can’t make it go away.

But He Can Help You.

He can be In The Garden, standing beside you, to be a SUPPORT system when you falter.  But You have to do it yourself. You have to take those steps, The Lord will NEVER push you on your way.  That’s not the Kind of God he is.  If you have tried your friends, and they don’t seem to be able to help you get there, then you are going it alone.

You spent your life hiding behind your pain, and your hurt, and your issues.  So maybe hiding isn’t the solution.  You NEVER know who can relate to your story.  You never know who can fully understand your pain.  So be honest, and ASK FOR HELP.

Not a Quick Fix.

But HELP.

I got Help, from people who don’t even know they helped me.  At times when it seemed the most inappropriate time to ask for help.

“Help Me On My Journey,

Help Me on My Way,

Oh Lord, I Want You To Help Me.”

I met someone this year, who changed my outlook on a lot of things, in a very short period of time.  I tell him all the time, I am so glad I met him.  I don’t know if he knows how very glad I am.  He gave me a reason to share my story, the TRUTH of my story. To be honest about where I have been, and how far I have come.  Even more so, he reminded me how far I have to go.

I Thank You For That . . . You Know who You Are.