She was known as Eartha Mae born in the small town of North in the The Palmetto State

Her childhood was even a mystery that she wished to forget from suffering abuse and neglect all because of her skin color - a light pale complexion - commonly referred as "yella"

She was of fair complexion due to the racial mix of African-American, European, and Cherokee Native American descent

Eartha was poorly treated and abandoned by others till she was saved by a Good Samaritan and taken to New York

Nurtured and raised into the Big Apple flair, she flourished and sprouted like flowers from the Earth

Charismatic and mysterious, she was like her name - spiritual and intuitive, she had a deep connection to the Great Mother (Earth)

The elements on Earth resided within her

Earth is the body, Water set in blood, Air is in the breath, and Fire ruled a free spirit

As a dancer with the legendary teacher, Katherine Dunham, who motivated the shy young girl to blossom and shine

She learned new languages and traveled to far and wide exotic places soaking up foreign cultures and faces

She was always searching for love and acceptance and enjoyed it though short and brief until she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl that she affectionately named Kitt

Eartha's life was now complete now that she had her child - someone to cherish and love

Both were different as night and day but their love ran deeper and stronger than skin - everyone noticed the powerful bond that couldn't be severed

Eartha had a subtle sensuality with a rich silky velvet speaking voice that turned vibrant, versatile, and passionate whenever she sang

A commanding powerful stage presence with a royal and noble aura - she possessed the carriage of a divinely queen

Outspoken and bold, she was not afraid to tell the truth - it nearly cost her career and left her exiled out of America until her triumphant return to Broadway in 1978, when she performed in the play, Timbuktu!

Her career was resurrected and skyrocketed once more and led her to many more places and open doors bringing fans from old generations and new, the queen had returned and was living life rich and fully

A strong social activist, she fought racism and injustice bringing unity and peace in numerous subtle ways from dance to social causes, she was admired and loved for being different and a vocal advocate for the outcast and rejected

On Christmas Day 2008, she left the world behind with Kitt by her side

Although she's gone, she will never be forgotten - her legacy lives on in her music and lives she touched

Farewell, Eartha Kitt

my wife tells me Lady Bird Johnson
was a woman of reknown
until she career blighted Catwoman meow!
She had a problem recognizing people had a difference of opinion into Nam
Eartha orders her own taxi
water under the bridge for Lady Bird

We endeavor to construct boxes and file folders
This life being ****** complex
And messy to boot, so we approximate sanity
By filling compartments and writing thumbnail biographies,
And even though she packed the costume admirably
(Already forty, mind you, but nowhere near gone to fat)
Julie Newmar had already filled both outfit and niche
(And never mind Halle Berry’s turn,
Different raiment for a different time, after all,
And one suspects the next iteration of said slinky supervillainess
Will wear nothing more than feline-shaped ****** rings),
Not to mention she’d already entered our collective consciousness
With a frothy Noel novelty (unsubstantial, inconsequential
In and of its ownself, perhaps, but then one considers
The version foisted off on the populace by that woman
Who appropriated the moniker of the Blessed ******,
All phoned-in faux Betty Boop, and one reconsiders)
So this was who she was, the book closed and sealed
(English only, never mind the other three tongues she spoke
Plus three more she proficiently purred in.)
They say when she died, she did not go gently, as it were,
But screamed and yowled for all she was still worth,
And maybe it was the cancer, certainly enough to do the job itself,
But perhaps it was the notion
That her era of innuendo and intimation was all done,
That she was transitioning to the static, to becoming a legacy,
A permanence that was stalking her,
Murderous, insatiable, inexorable.

It was an all black car
Where ever the action went it was driving into adventure being far
It could be a mountain trail
It might be across the globe with anything but fail
But the Knight-Rider car with the nickname “KITT”
However, the car being energized and totally computerized was it
I had the opportunity while vacationing in Downtown Los Angeles to visit Universal Studios Hollywood
This is the place where all the Oscars stood
But let me fill you in a little secret
There were several other Knight-Rider cars
I will call them “Stand in Autos”
When the original Knight-Rider car crashes beyond repair
You can always depend on many many spare
Yet the Knight-Rider car was always on the move
There were thrills in action to prove
But for the moment don’t move
For example, a racing car in competition that thinks it is more Tech
But wait, the Knight-Rider car having flips and tricks being the Knight-Rider car having effect
Eye on technology in having its own elect
I almost forgot, I met the man behind Kitt’s wheels, David Hasselhoff
We actually spoke in person one on one
David Hasselhoff has height standing among
Knight-Rider car has driven into the night
But there is a spotlight giving it light
Yet the Knight-Riding car says goodnight.

I used to listen to Winehouse in the greenhouse and the windows cried in pain.
I had Gillespie in the conservatory and Kitt in the kitchen, but I saved Brenda Lee for the bedroom see 'cause she was the queen.
I had them all running recordings in my head, Dave Dee, Fats Domino, Bono, Callas for a touch of class, Des and Bygraves, slaves to the sound spinning around in my mind and now I can't find a song that's familiar, can't make out the words, don't know the artists, missed out along the tracks, no vinyls, no needles, no tables just racks of CD's
oh please tell me it isn't so
this can't be the way to go,
where's Slim and Kim and Marty gonna go now that the party is over?
In the greenhouse where I listened to Winehouse and watched the pickup pick up the beat,
I take a back seat and eat a tomato while nothing else is going on.

You mellow
Soft
Plush
Sweet little kitty
Innocent before you entered society
When you entered middle school and realized the world wasn't all puppies...mad smiles
Soft kitty
Look at your past
Yes you were drained into a whole new persona
And you were forced to see your life differently
You've always been the outcast
No matter how hard you tried to fit in
You struggled as people spit on you
**** on you
As you...slowly believed it
Then all at once
....but soft kitt I feel it
This year...this month...this week...this day....
Is redemption time
You know your past
What you've been through
Bullying, insecurity, anxiety, shyness...
The past is over
The present is infinite
Life is a mystery
Follow your bliss...

I remember on a visit back in 1983
Incredible beauty I had never seen
Reddish dusty land, nature everywhere
Every teenagers perfect little dream to share

Crystal clear night-time, universal skies
Perfection to behold upon your very eyes
Astronomical dreams for all to feast
All my imaginations where finally released

Coyotes back then howling in the night
Till early night and of first morning light
Mount Lemmon snow kissed on the top
Never seen such beauty, as my jaw dropped

Visits to the Mountains, Kitt Peak Observatory
This was always the perfect place for me
Memories I keep in pictures over thirty years ago
Always cherished more than any words could show

5/10/2015
My heaven on Earth Arizona so beautiful.

There was plenty cats who could ****** a quarter offa backboard,
They used to say up at Happy Warrior,
But the Goat was the only one
Who could float so long that he could leave change,
And then they’d slap each other on the back,
Laughin' until they couldn’t breathe.
Some folks still tell the story, old timers—hell, old men now,
But they don’t laugh much no more, because they all know the story;
Ain’t one of those things where people ask Whatever became of...
Like a Boobie Tucker or Funny Kitt, because Earl was a myth, see,
A neighborhood Icarus, but one with moments of doubt
The pusher, all loud clothes and soft smooth voices,
Played Earl and played him to his weak hand.
College coach ain’t gonna push for no brother
Who ain’t got the grades,
No matter how much lift he got.  
Then what, man?
You gonna hang outside the park, leanin’ on the fence,
Some old man whose name used to get you respect?
****, man, you think you can fly?
Man, I got somethin’ make you fly.
The pusher baited and Earl hit the hook hard;
Wasn’t long before he was noddin’ on corners
Like some old **** wino,
Pretty soon a stint Upstate after he botched robbin’ some bar,
Then a long slow slide until he died.
The Hawk, Alcindor, The Pearl—they knew he was the man,
Best ever according to Lew, and man how he flew,
But the streets have their own peculiar physics
And the rim ain’t nothing but ten feet off the ground.

I’m in a mood, I have no idea who I am? I thought this would be easy, all my experience make me into this person who I cannot access. Who am I, as I search on social media, the girl with the big **** or the big *****, with the great personality and care-free attitude, am I any of them, I don’t know. The answer is right in front of me and somehow it’s locked. Will it take me a lifetime to find who I am because social media has told me, better yet showed me how people are so confident with who they are! They show James Baldwin, Nikki Giovanni, Whitney Houston, Aretha Franklin, Muhammad Ali and ******* Eartha Kitt, famous faces, unapologetically themselves. That is what social media said so why haven’t I found the answer to the big question. WHO AM I???