Monday, December 29, 2008
On top of being very young, I am not amongst the fleet of females who are in a desperate dash towards the alter. There are things I want to do & places I want to go before I become someone's wife. In this microwave-em society, I appreciate the art of taking things slowly...But personally, the underlying issue isn't about continuing to "look for" Mr. Right, because I thought I had solved that mystery.
He, is 21.
And unsure if I am "The One".
There lies the dilemma...because I am not so sure anymore, either.
He is my best friend and there is no one else on this planet that I would rather spend my time with than him. I haven't had this much fun in my life; the present is so bright. But, I can't keep shutting out the future & what this all means...
I think of the stress we've endured lately, and I wonder if it's a sign.
What are we working towards?
A lesson learned at the end of the day? A good story?
He doesn't know...never did.
...and I used to be so sure. From the very first day. I knew.
But, something else is speaking to me...
...and I have decided to listen.
Because I love him...more than I love my own happiness.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
But, I do hate fashion conformity. Or apathy. I want to punch a baby (thanks Dane Cook) whenever I pass by a girl who looks like she got dressed in the dark. Call me materialistic. Or shallow. But, I'm one of the rare people who see fashion as an opportunity to make art. Walking art.
...bet you didn't know THAT about Spoken.Word, huh? Hey. It's almost 2009.
Thanks to Miss Stefanie for guiding me towards this cool website. Here's a pallet that I created myself...enjoy!
A Day in Paris by iamspokenword
10 Things you wish you could say to ten different people:
1. Leave me alone...please.
2. You are NOT that cute sis...please save what little you have left of your dignity and sit down sumwhere...
3. Calm down...I am over you.
4. I trust my man, but I don't know you. I'm not the jealous type...but don't give me a reason.
5. I would leave everything and everyone behind for you. So let's do it...RIGHT NOW.
6. I'm sorry, but I honestly don't like you all that much.
7. ________ really hurt my feelings...and I don't trust you like I used to.
8. I don't want to move back home after graduation.
9. For all we do...you don't pay us enough.
10. You make me feel like crap.
9 Things about yourself:
1. I like to bake.
2. I am a fashion fiend with no money...ironic combination.
3. I want to write for the rest of my life.
4. I can sing. Quite well, actually.
5. I'm madly in love with a man that I want to be my husband but scared to death that he isn't.
6. I like computers & gadgety things...
7. I love to sleep.
8. I don't procrastinate, actually...I just hate deadlines or being rushed. So, I guess I'm slow-paced out of spite.
9. Jesus is my everything.
8 Ways to win my heart:
1. Have an deep appreciation/gift for writing.
2. Love God genuinely...lacking the stiff, religious ora.
3. Pay attention.
4. Be random.
5. Despise too many borders/boundaries.
6. No hidden motives.
7. Don't shy away from pictures.
8. Talk with conviction.
7 Things that cross my mind a lot:
2. A scripture that I recently read.
3. My plans for the next year.
4. My unborn children.
5. My latest mini-crisis.
6. Music lyrics/melody
7. Current poem topic I'm musing about
6 Things I do before I go to sleep:
2. Eat a snack.
3. Wrap/comb/brush my hair
4. Pick out outfit for next day.
5. Talk to Nicholas on the phone/text him.
5 People I couldn’t live without:
(Keeping God as a given because He's the only one that I could NOT live without.)
1. My mom
2. My step-dad
3. My Nicholas...ha..I mean, Nicholas.
4. My Papa
5. (Interchangeable spot) My roommate Jess currently has this spot.
4 Things I am wearing right now:
1. Black spaghetti-strapped shirt
4. An embarrassed look.
3 Songs that fit my life perfectly(right now):
1. "Get Up" by Mary Mary
2. "1st & Love" by Brandy
3. "Lessons Learned" by Carrie Underwood
2 Things I want to do before I die:
1. Publish at least 5 books...with at least 1 of them a best-seller.
2. Be a mother.
I don't want to go any further. I have met "the One". His presence in my life is one of the few things that I am absolutely content/happy about.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?
I got the Keys to the Campus..as a Resident Assistant for a dormitory floor. Which opened the door to a whole bunch of great fun/randomness. Before that...I was an Office Girl at a Inner-city kids camp (traveling further west than I ever had).
2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I remember resolving to be braver. And though its been a fight...I have been. Next year...I'm kicking it up a notch.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yep. Friends @ home.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
5. What countries did you visit?
::Kicks a pepple:: None, regretably.
6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
A degree and an apartment (possibly).
7. What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
My last night off while at Kamp. It was the night I realized that my man truly has my back. Oh and September 13th...the day my baby took me to celebrate my birthday. That was one of the best dates I've ever had.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Surving RA responsibilites, maintaning an A/B grade average with 18 credit hours, having an active social life, and taking care of my man ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Not taking enough time for myself.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I've had many, many headaches. But I havent' been seriously sick all year. Thank God.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My freshman girls living on the hall...they went through a lot and did so well.
And my baby, Nick. He took some major ego shots this year and maintained his kind heart.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Mmm. My school peers throughout the election.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Food. And my laptop.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Traveling so much & having the money to do it. I went to New Jersey, New York, and Missouri.
16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
"Get Up" by Mary Mary
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
- i. happier or sadder? happier...definitely.
- ii. thinner or fatter? thinner.
- iii. richer or poorer? shoot...richer.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
smiling and letting go.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
20. Did you fall in love in 2008?
over and over again...but with the same person. And deeper.
21. How many one-night stands?
22. What was your favorite TV program?
The Office, Seinfeld, and Family Guy still has the top spots (Thanks Hulu.com)
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
The Devil is STILL a stupid liar...
24. What was the best book you read?
Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. That book changed my life.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I got into Folk/Pop more this year....Ingrid Michaelson, KT Tunstall, Sara Bareilles, Colbie Caillat.
Two words: Michael Buble.
And the return of my girl, Brandy. That album is underrated to me.
26. What did you want and get?
Love, lessons, and friends.
27. What did you want and not get?
28. What were your favorite films of this year?
Kung-Fu Panda, Seven Pounds, Dark Knight
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
At midnight my hall stormed into my room (at once) and sprayed me with silly string. They sang to me and gave me a crown that had lights on the front. Then we had cake while I did curfew checks...lol. Later on that day, I went to class, got a surprise in class from my baby, but had a miny breakdown because he couldn't hang out. :0) Happy 23 to me!!
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More money in my pocket to do more.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Soft-core Bohemian mixed with a bit of Preppy.
32. What kept you sane?
My Bible, music, my RA partner/roommate, and my baby
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Still in the running...Will Smith.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Faith's place in legislation.
35. Whom did you miss?
My circle of friends from back home and my baby.
36. Who was the best new person(s) you met?
People @ KAA & the entire dorm of 28-2.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
"Anything worth having is worth fighting for."
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"And every tear that had to fall from my eyes,
And everyday I wondered how I'd get through the night,
Every change, life has thrown me,
I'm thankful, for every break in my heart,
I'm grateful, for every scar,
Some pages turned,
Some bridges burned,
But there were lessons learned."
You'll never guess who this is from.....
....yep. Carrie Underwood. :0)
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The only way that they can truly understand our compassionate, complicated, sometimes tragic existance is to BE us. Not just experience the prejudiced system built around us, but also the firey battles that occur inside of us. I get that Men have a whole slew of warfare to face as well....so, I am inclined to look at the opposite sex with understanding.
However, I am frustrated at how often I am reminded that they lack understanding. Let me simply state that I seek to be a woman after God's heart. I want to remembered for my heart after Him. My kindness towards others. I want to leave an imprint on the people that knew me. These are the things MOST important to me...
..but I want a man to understand that my physical body is worth more than an occasional nod. I want him to appreciate and honor the temple God placed me in. He could have choosen for me to be any other race, or height, or build...with different eyes and a different mouth.
But He didn't. I look like me.
And I while I feel like beauty is in the eye of the beholder most of the time...I want my man to indulge in the beauty God invested in me. I don't want him to "tolerate" my looks just because he enjoys my mind/heart.
I'm not fishing for a compliment. Self-image has been an issue that I have battled with for most of my life, and I finally feel like I am gaining an advantage. So, those closest to me should not enable me in my weakness. I want to be (as the title of the book states) Captivating.
Men: do not tolerate our existance. Every hair on our head was destined.
Women are the climax of creation. God made sure that everything was in place before he made us. And the best part about that is that God wanted to take us out of the very BEST of His creation: Man. Meaning...we are a part of you. So don't treat us like we are from Venus. We were both created in His image...Cherish me like you would your own body.
Walk a little while in my shoes, and realize that beauty takes precedence over comfort most of the time.
“I am my mother’s daughter.”
This is the statement that I would most likely use when asked to describe myself. I took joy in always being referred collectively with my family. In being known by my last, and not my first, name. I naturally adopted my family’s principles and their characteristics. Their mannerisms are slowly starting to show on my face. But instead of smiling slightly while connecting the dots…I frown. It isn’t that my family is extraordinarily dysfunctional or that I would openly deny my blood-laced ties to them….but…
…I am not a little girl anymore. Looking into the mirror I see my mother’s high cheeks and nose; my father’s full lips and chin…and the eyes of a pleasant stranger... Who is this woman?
Currently, I am growing fonder of the idea of a life out on my own. Establishing a peace of mind that is significantly unique. Distinct and God-given directly to me. My parents throw themselves at me when I am home from school during vacation, but are rarely interested in the evolving young woman who meets them at the door.
“I know you too well, girl.” My mother says. Our constant arguments should only reveal to her how limited her knowledge of me is…She knows me. She made me. She loves me. But…she does not know me.
Granted, there are ways about me that are central, and will not change drastically. But, everyday that I spend with myself is a day that I learn something new. I have interests and pursuits that have recently been awakened that she doesn’t understand.
My love for jazz & my desire to travel. It was only a few years ago that I only loved R&B and was a homebody. Quite the contrast, right?
My mother has my past. And will, forever and always…
But my present is building and my future is vast and wide-open. Above/around me is a God who alone is omniscient (all-knowing). My parents are responsible for the person that I am today. They were entrusted with the great task of teaching me foundational truths. Truth concerning God. Truth concerning Love. Truth concerning right and wrong. How to treat people. Manners. Keeping your word. Putting others first…and above all…God. Standing up for what is noble and pure. Speaking up AND holding your tongue (having the wisdom to know when each is appropriate).
They have taught me these things. Therefore, I owe them so much. According to God, I owe them my honor. How? Through how I live my life. Will I continue in the things that they have taught me? I intend to…with all my might.
But that is simply the foundation. What is built on top of that is of God’s (my) choosing. And I must have faith in God and courage within myself to build. And this house…will look unlike anything that my family has seen in their lifetimes combined. Or I.
It has to be different….There has to be more….
Sunday, December 7, 2008
As you celebrate this holiday season, with all of its glitter and chaos...make sure that Jesus is at the center of it all. This holiday, like all holidays are to commemorate something important...Christmas is about Christ. Let us be thankful that although He came through humble means...He DID COME. For one purpose: to save Mankind. Remember this, and let it permeate our hearts throughout this season and into the new year.
Happy & Blessed Holidays to you and yours...
Enjoy reading one of my favorite Christmas carols...
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Periodically I look at a picture of myself (like the one above, for example) and I ask the question: Who is this girl....really?
Question of the decade. Haha.
There were times where it drew blank stares. Grimaces. And sarcastic laughs.
If I were to ask those closest to me...they would give only a resume of my talents.
Others: a long list of likes, dislikes, and moods.
I dare no one would come closer to the truth than my mother...
...but even SHE would miss the essence by a mile.
No one spends more time with me...than me...so how is it that I've spent most of my lifetime stumped by this question?
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. "~Oscar Wilde, De Profundis, 1905
I haven't been living a lie. More so I have been chasing one.
Absorbing the light of others and ignoring the steady flicker placed inside of my own soul.
Believing that if I impacted enough lives and spoke the right words that God would give me the acceptance that He has already offered. And promised.
Somewhere in the shuffle of the crowd I let go of His hand. So I tugged on endless shirttails asking, "Have you seen my Daddy?" Surely these nice people could help me find Him. But, the sounds of their directions/questions drowned out the voice of my Father calling for me. In losing Him, I lost me. But, it is thrilling how crystal clear my [true and redeemed] heart is when it has the light of His Glory shining on it...
1. I sing at the top of my lungs; getting lost in the melody and emotion. Carefree and joyous. A true lover of music.
2. I write from the depths of my soul. In whatever form it happens to flow into. Not for acclaim. And never for approval. Content takes precedence over grammar.
3. I am two opposites joined. Yin and Yang within myself. A more envious form of Bipolar. A healthier version of a Manic-Depressive. I am noisy and I am silence. I am serious and I am humorous. I am introverted and I am bold. I am cautious and I am fearless. Tender and Intense. I am high-top converse's and I am high heels. I am pink ribbons and black nail polish.
4. I believe in Truth. And Beauty. And Love. And I will guard them ferociously.
5. I am the Apple of My Father God's eye. He gave His life for me, and I owe Him my everything. His sacrifice tells me that I am special to Him.
6.. I am still learning. The color on my wings growing more vivacious, the smile on my face increasing in mystery. Look into my eyes and see that I've got a secret.
Now...look at that picture again...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
More specifically: Young Americans.
We aren't satisfied unless we are rallying for, protesting against, or stirring up some sort of meaningless, yet personally significant episode. And I am amazed at how easily things "pop off".
Whether it be through a phone call or the infamous Facebook note/wall post/posted item, we have a sick fetish towards disagreement. Point blank, Americans, and human beings for that matter, are not naturally prone towards harmony.
In fact, I gather that whenever possible, we would rather divide. Especially against our own kind. We seek to specify a new club or denomination or ideal to suit our tendency to follow fads. And not for real change, mind you. Simply to be disagreeable.
Confused? Let me explain...
There is one race, theoretically: the Human Race.
Because of environmental/genetic factors, skin shades differentiated and with a hearty cue from society and the Tower of Babel...races/languages were made. Because of envy and greed (not to mention population surges), there wasn't enough room for humans to live in one place, so they sought to find other land. It became a competition and a source for war and carnage.
A culture became established by the amount of land that they ruled over.
Fast forward century's upon century's later, and a group of guys on a ship called the Mayflower decide to "bargain" this huge continent off of some natives. As more and more various people groups migrate (whether by choice or by force) to America, the more categorized America became. As the US grew older, diversity flourished. But racism and prejudice grew, also. We are no longer known by just our skin color. We have shade discrepancies between races (i.e. African Americans). There are socioeconomic divides. There are social divides. Political divisions.
While these categories are supposed to provide uniqueness and choice for Americans, they actually give us more reasons to dislike each other.
Getting back to my point: Disharmony. It is in our nature. We have a tendency to complain, and not just simply change and evolve. Chaos is the best way to get our attention. Maybe that's why God allows the world to be like it is...Maybe it's why He doesn't intervene in most cases. We look for Him more often in times of darkness, right? But I'm getting off track again.
I believe if Disharmony had a mode of transportation, it would be Gossip. Take inventory, if you will, at the minutes we spend on the phone with friends/loved ones. The large majority of those minutes are spent gossiping. I don't mean giving information with the sole intent to inform...I mean an exchange of dialogue that seeks to draw one's own personal conclusions about a matter.
Idle talk, basically.
Discussing other people, meanwhile tearing them down, speaking of people in a manner that requires a defense. Holding a verbal trial and simultaneously declaring them guilty.
It is meaningless and is, 90% of the time, false. It's false because it is usually a regurgitation of previously passed down information. And just like regurgitated food loses the original amount of nutrients, gossip lacks the complete knowledge of a situation.
And we are so hypocritical. We will be quick to defend our privacy but freely discuss the circumstances and character of other people. Anyone who has been the victim of a vicious rumor knows that it is quite difficult to bounce back from it.
The saddest thing is though (going back to my original thought), most of us fall into gossip by listening to it, and not spreading it. Its easier to listen to gossip than it is to spread it. Why do we sit and listen to it?? Because a part of us likes that someone else is having a hard time. Mostly because it takes our minds (not to mention the minds of others) off our own mistakes. We can finally take the righteous role! [And man...does it ever feel good.] In rare instances are we hurt by hearing gossip. Nevertheless, we enjoy the shock. And we rejoice in it.
"Love doesn't not rejoice in evil..but rejoices in the truth."
We don't know the first thing about love...
That's why gossip is so lethal. Because it is enticing.
So beware. And keep your mouth shut for a change.
and discerning if he holds his tongue.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
I don't want to do it anymore.
Even after a recent 2 1/2 day break from classes...I, for the first time this semester,
want to give up. I am just plain tired.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Tired of staring eyes. Tired of haughty, hard-headed, disrespectful Freshman.
Tired of a million things on my daily to-do list.
Tired of seeing my roommate go to bed after 2 am because she has no choice.
[I am tired for her.]
Tired of always having to be all things to all men.
Tired of always being expected to rise above it all.
Being the bigger person.
Turning the other cheek.
Tired of seeing my love struggle...
...watching him hang on to a small strand of hope.
Sometimes I don't know how he manages to hang on.
[Today, he threw down his pencil in disgust and said, "I give up."
I'm tired of acting like that doesn't hurt me in some strange way.]
Tired of seeing young, educated black students
act like they are untouchable.
As if they aren't one second away from poverty, or illegitimacy.
I am tired of shallow Faith and being forced into unfulfilling worship.
Sick of being patient for revival.
I'm tired of loud cliques and lonely faces.
Tired of gossip and slander.
Tired of fake smiles and those who act like they respect you.
I am tired of praying for strength...I just simply want to Be.
I wish to just spend my days in gratitude...but these weak hands and feeble knees distract me.
I give up.
Completely, this time.
God? Do you hear me??!!
...I give up.
Now please...do it through me.
Unless the Lord builds the house,
they labor in vain who build it;
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.
Friday, October 3, 2008
They call us idiots.
Loud, disrespectful, and unintelligent.
Lazy, greedy, and unambitious.
Thieves with large, plump lips that greedily scarf down watermelon and fried chicken.
Who's sole purpose is to entertain and to be obedient.
We are only allowed to sing or dance...and then clean up after the show is done.
We have thick, flattering shapes to be used and abused whenever.
Our nature is not beautiful. Our culture is not sacred.
It is the butt of every joke. The punchline of every satire.
The source of their amusement.
...I am told to let it go...
Because Blackface no longer exists.
So tell me, when a white girl looks at me, smiles, and says "Whaddup, dog?" How am I supposed to feel?
When I see pictures like THIS....does my frustration ease?
When films like "Soul Plane", "Pooty Tang", and "Booty Call" become the most popular (and loudest) tributes to the Black culture in America...someone tell me
How the heck am I supposed to feel?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
(I'm sure he won't mind....)
A throwback 90s song
Waking up on a Saturday morning
Long, lingering hugs
Road trips to nowhere
Shopping for nick-nacks
Giving things away
Kindness heard above Hate
A surprisingly good book
Confused facial expressions
Loud speech with no point
Beauty contests for children
Mothers who abuse the Welfare System
The disappointment of a sucky movie that I was referred to see
My list of unfinished poems
Friday, September 19, 2008
At the beginning of the fall semester, I came across the words, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."
For those of you who are unaware...this is John 10:10.
So, my quest is to figure out just what Jesus meant by "life, and have it more abundantly". I mean personally. For me. I am well accustomed to the first part of the verse, but at some point, I got tired of playing the martyr.
There are many things that have been taken from me. While I managed to hold on to a single strand of sanity throughout it all, I accepted the notion that I could end up living out the rest of my existence....empty-handed. And I thought that is what the Will of God was for me. What He was pleased with. I thought that is what He took notice of. What caught His attention. I used to picture myself as a small girl wearing a pretty yellow dress...with big brown eyes pleading for someone to tell me how pretty I looked. I took this mentality into my relationships...and even as I interacted with God, I figured that I must do something to win His approval. My poison? Suffering.
That's what "bearing your cross" is all about, right?
I've inquired of God these past few weeks about what does it really mean to have an abundant life. Does that include a fat bank account? Good health? A vast array of friends? A lucrative 401K plan?
Is it different for each person? How do we recognize it when we're living it? And how do we obtain it?
Well. This is what I've gotten so far:
"Living Life Inside-Out".
Change is accomplished and KEPT when it happens inside out. When we seek to change our surroundings or our environment, we should pray that the change begins inside of us. One of two things will happen:
1. We will literally change our environment for the better. And have grateful hearts.
2. We will see our environment change...but only because our perception of it has changed. We see it differently....and gain a grateful heart in the process.
It's an ancient concept, yet still remains true: your attitude is the only thing you can control. I am amazed at how the world around me morphs when I decide to change my attitude. I almost wished I'd thought of it first....
There is this song by Coldplay that astounds me...because it accurately states how I feel.
To my surprise, and my delight
I saw sunrise, I saw sunlight
I am nothing in the dark
And the clouds burst to show daylight
Ooh and the sun will shine
Yeah on this heart of mine
Ooh and I realize
Who cannot live without
Ooh come apart without
On a hill top, on a sky-rise
Like a first born child
On a full day, and a full flight
Defeat darkness, breaking daylight
Ooh and the sun will shine
Yeah on this heart of mine
Ooh and I realize
Who cannot live without
Ooh come apart without
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
acclaim follows suite.
i would rather stretch my frame
underneath the persistent sky.
though it varies in hues
it will never change its shape
still as infinite as before.
steady in its faithfulness
and ignored still.
so i will pay attention
and allow the sky to teach me
to be great without
to run from popularity with a clause,
to use misunderstanding
to confirm my identity.
i lay. and i am still.
because the way the wind blows
acclaim follows suite.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Since when did Neo-Soul front man Musiq Soulchild pattern his music after Lloyd and Usher?
I am sorely disappointed in this track. I own every album of Musiq's and, unlike this single, he didn't come close to using the words "aye" and "fresh".....whattheworld?????
It seems no genre is safe from the green-hued influence of mainstream. I guess Musiq got tired of his subtle status and decided to make something for the kids. I thought that he was above self-promotion and possessed conviction about the music he creates....silly me....
After watching it the first time...this video is truly upsetting. Second time around, my ears naturally place him into the category of the likes of Usher. Possessing nothing more than marketability. An entertainer.
But someone that I wouldn't pay $100 for a concert ticket.
Next up: Summer 2009 tour with Solider Boy.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Faced with one too many tragic stories of homicide & destitution. Emotional slavery & utter hopelessness. Tired of watching the news. Sick of irresponsible hands carrying the wealth of the world. Weary of things "just being the way they are".
It's not that my problems and issues are so overwhelming that I'd rather flee than fight...it's just that today my mind entertained the notion of a life somewhere other than here. And I wondered what it would feel like...
I would breathe.
Embrace the ability to pause & appreciate the clean air go in. and out of my body.
Thanking God for this invisible gift that we exhaust so frivolously.
Literally thanking Him for life.
Giving no thought to a day when the last tree will die.
How would this feel?
I would love.
Openly and fiercely. Without one ounce of apprehension or regard to the word "consequence".
Deplete myself into my love's frame like I was girded to since Creation.
...No one knows of the condom, rape, or AIDS here.
Sex is as holy and as free as God.
So I thank Him & caress the healthy, pink cheek of my newborn son.
How would this feel?
I would smile.
Open-mouth grin at my neighbor. And she would beam with a warmth so genuine it widens my smile.
But kindness is so natural here...we have no need for many words.
I notice the sun's rays as it reflects off of her skin. I marvel. The color of warm milk it is.
I see the beauty in her own hue & she embraces it in mine.
We two free from all unspoken bias & our history of segregation.
...because there is so much that we share: I embody her.
How would this feel?
To run my hands into the earth...
...and not argue over its age or war over its contents.
To worship the Creator with my life...
...without Man's disclosure to serve him first.
To hear Love clearly...
...because the voice of Hate is too faint to make out...
Friday, July 25, 2008
My question is:
Since when does being from the streets mean you have to act all rude? And since when does being "real" give you the right to talk to people, especially the public, in whatever manner you think is necessary?
I feel sorry for this young sister because she is undoubtedly creating a negative reputation for herself; meanwhile burning a lot of bridges. She forgot that there are a lot of people that helped her achieve her minimal amount of fame. (Which by the way, fame that is grounded in beef and controversy is destined to come and go.) She keeps going off on fans, other artists, and media moguls...but she's unknowingly writing a huge R.I.P on her career. No one takes her seriously.
Plus, she, along with Trina, Remy Ma, Foxxy Brown, Lil Kim are setting future Female Emcees back. That's my real problem. Absolutely NO respect for the industry or the people who paid dues so that you can even pick up a mic.
Example: Khia openly dissed Janet Jackson, who most graciously featured her on her newest album Discipline. She actually said that Janet isn't relevant anymore and that there is no comparison between their two careers. IS SHE SERIOUS?!!!
Since when does one hit back in 2002, another in 2005, and current controversy count you worthy to be in the same category with a woman who's been making platinum records since the 80s???
She is an embarrassment to the hood & to the industry. She's even an embarrassment to dirty south rap.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
I will start by mirroring his initial statement with one of my own:
I could NOT be a man.
God forbid the morning will come that I wake up...only to find that a certain member of my body decided to get up without my permission. I'm sure men get a real kick out of that, but I personally would not want the catalyst for mankind precariously dangling between my legs. I mean, that's too much vulnerability for me, personally.
Men, from a bird's eye view, have it extremely easy.
I mean, they automatically dodge some of nature's most difficult responsibilities. (One Word: childbirth.) They get to take joy in the process of conception, but take the role of spectator for the next 9 months. It hardly seems fair. Some would say that the definition of justice would be for a 10 lb baby to be birthed by just ONE man. (And since no baby's ever been birthed through an anus...there's only one more avenue left other than a Cesarean Section...hahah. )
However, looking at societal woes, men definitely carry their fair share. One of the amazing things about being a woman, is that we can try on different social personalities with ease and acceptance. I can be a tough and loud-mouthed CEO AND I can be a docile and caring wife/mother. I can dress sophisticated one night, and rock NY grit on a Saturday. Men aren't able to slide into different roles so easily. There are many expectations placed on a man's shoulders, and any man who doesn't live up to those...will, by definition, cease to be a man.
Plus, in the relationship, women expect much from men. We literally want them to be superman in every occasion/situation. Not only is he meant to be the provider for the home, but he is also the protector, handyman, mechanic, Don Juan, & Dr. Huxtable. He's gotta keep his body looking like LL Cool J & his mind sharp like Dr. Cornel West. It's a direct shot to who he is as a man if he slacks in either one of these. Rarely does he have any real support from his friends, because they are either happily single, or miserably taken...it's hard for him to look around and see good examples of what a man looks like. So, he makes it up as he goes along. And women get frustrated because they assume that being a man is easy and that they should have "gotten it together" somewhere around puberty.
Fathers "push" their sons. Because "being a man" is the first real achievement. But even once he feels like he may have achieved it...a circumstance, a female, or another male will come along and "tell" him that he isn't able to fill those shoes. Some men preservere, some are wounded.
I admire men very much...however, there are many things that I just do NOT understand...
1. Note that there is a difference between having a sense of humor and being obnoxious. Dane Cook is funny. But you...are obnoxious. And no one finds you funny except for those 3 guys that always hang around you because they have no life.
2. What is sexy about a man in a spandex bathing suit??? Please, someone explain that to me.
3. What makes you think that just because I am female that I don't get baseball stats or play NBA Live 07? Try assuming that the average girl KNOWS about these things, and you are in for a treat.
4. Why does every guy think that he's the best at basketball? Just shut up and play. Geez....
5. Girls are expected to do all the work on the dance floor these days. Why?
I'll end this post with a question: Which of these two pictures signifies what a real man is?
Monday, July 21, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
Be warned that this may make you extremely angry, so proceed with caution.
After hearing this word for the millionth time, I decided to study it. Figure out why this word has become a Philosophy. A Doctrine even. I've heard preachers use it from pulpits. It was the topic of choice for my (S)he-ro's first single off of her new album: The Real Thing. It hit our society like a meteor, as if it is the Diagnoses for all of our problems. It is the Root & it becomes the Enemy.
"Don't even worry about her, girl...She ain't nothing but a hater."
We already live in a want-driven society. We don't want a thing for long, though, because there is always something newer, brighter, or more upscale to want. Nothing wrong with wanting things, but WHY do we want them? They don't seem to deeply satisfy something, so there must be some temporal need that it meets.
My grandmother used to say that people are always trying to "Keep Up with the Jones' ". Remember that term? Some of us are literally in a race to outdo everyone else. And by "everyone else", I mean our peers. Our neighbors. The girl that's dating my ex. Even our friends. Yes, even them. We are afraid to let others shine because we think that it means we lose a little bit of our own light. And we were raised and taught throughout life that "No one's light is more important than yours." & "Don't let anyone shine more than you."
So, let's look at the two people involved in this "Hate"' relationship: the hated and the hater. By definition, the hater is uncomfortable with the hated getting so much attention, and purposefully slanders the reputation of the hated, so that people will praise them less. Secondly, the hated is "innocently" shining, and becomes subjected to the hater's wrath. They therefore, dislike the hater. Thus, completing the cycle...
In the beginning of this phenomenon, the hated acted like victims, gaining the pity of those rallying around them. But now, suddenly, the hated are now boasting at the number of haters they had. It has become a desirable attribute in life. No one wishes to live peaceably with their neighbor, or to cultivate loving relationships, but they would rather increase in the number of people who "hate" on their way of living. The hated quickly say that the opinions of the hater means nothing, but will turn right around and feed their ego with the jealousy of who?...that's right: The Hater.
The root of the two names can be attributed to the two extremes of Self-Esteem. The Hated are often so self-absorbed that they sum the Hater's negativity down to being a "Hater". Many times it is the very first judgement they come to. And instead of seeking restitution with the other person, they would rather stand on their insubstantial conclusion. As stated before, it is often the most saught after rationale. The "Hater", however, usually struggle with a lower level of self-esteem; emphasizing the accomplishments of others and ignoring with makes them unique.
The Remedy for both? In the simplest terms, the Hater needs to love himself and the Hated needs to get over himself....They should both then work on uplifting the other; becoming totally comfortable with allowing him or her to shine as bright as he or she possibly can.
It's a dark world and we need all the light we can get...
Let Love Reign.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
--Renee Delphin, 1997
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Summary:My first year at Liberty University was memorable. I had amazing roommates & got exposed to African culture for the very first time. Got decent grades & goofed off a lot on Facebook. I broke rules and did things that shock me to this day. I performed poetry in public for the first time & earned my stage name. I began and ended a relationship during this school year, and laid the foundation for my current relationship. Ended on the brightest note. All in all, I saw how tough life can be when you are determined to live it only for yourself.
Clubs:I was recruited mid-semester into Student Leadership as a Dormitory Prayer Leader on my hall.
Relationship Status:Dated a guy without being friends first, it ended after 6 months.
Favorite class:English 102
1.Know your boundaries.
2."When people show you who they are, believe them."
3.Experimentation isn't always fun.
4.Be brave. Speak up.
5.Appearances can lie.
6.Remembering where you come from does not require you to look back.
7.Your fears aren't made of stone...walk through them.
8.Work FIRST, play afterward.
9.Love is never soft or weak, but it is the strongest attribute a person can possess.
Pic to sum up the year:
August 2007-May 2008
Summary:Possibly the hardest/best year of my life to date. Everything that I thought was unbreakable inside of me was broken, and I didn't think it was capable to have so much love surrounding you. I fell in love with my best friend, stood by him during one of the hardest times of his life, and even became best friends with his best friend... I endured the death of a dream, & its resurrection. I grew poetically; writing almost everyday. I took active political/social roles on campus. My love life broke new ground, even through a long period of separation. I had a better year academically, also. In general, this year was quite the adventure.
Clubs: Center for M.E. (Multicultural Enrichment), The E.Q.U.A.L.I.T.Y Factor Movement, 2nd year as Prayer Leader and earned a spot as a Resident Assistant this upcoming year.
Relationship Status: Madly in love.
Favorite Class:Psychology 351(Multicultural Counseling & Research)
2.Take a chance on yourself.
3.God knows what He's doing...so trust Him.
4.Hold nothing back.
5.Love is as explainable as God.
7.Know what you believe and why, and be ready to speak when someone calls on you for an answer.
8.Your true friends are there despite inconvenience.
9. Use a thesaurus.
10.Writing is NEVER for the author's benefit.
Pic to sum up the year:
August 2008-May 2009
Here's a pic of things to come:
Monday, July 14, 2008
...or you can listen here.
But please take in these words & see how they relate to you personally.
City Club of Cleveland, Cleveland, Ohio April 5, 1968
Mr Chairmen,Ladies And Gentlemen
This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.
It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.
Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.
No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.
Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.
"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lost their cause and pay the costs."
Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.
Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.
Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.
For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.
This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.
I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.
We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.
Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.
We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.
Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.
But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.
Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
My personal comments:
The words to this well known song speaks louder to me than ever before. The grace of God is for us all. Black and white. Victim and oppressor. Free and slave.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Answer:Inner-city youth camp in Missouri
Question:How was it?
Answer:It was the hardest/best experience of my life, thank you.
Question:Did you learn anything? You know...about yourself, maybe?
Answer:I'm glad you asked that question...
I'm used to getting consistently poured into. And I am accustomed to getting drawn from. But never has it happened at the exact same time. Each second of the day, someone needed me, and I was always given something new. Mainly lessons. I feel like my heart has taken on some weird shape, and I'm getting reacquainted with it. Things surfaced from the inside of me that made me ashamed, and other things excited me. I believe I was placed in an environment where I could adequately begin to express a joy that was smothered. Disappointment & fear enabled me to keep silent, and when bad things happened (which they are promised to do), it was easy for me to lose more joy...considering I didn't have a firm grip on it in the first place.
I learned to exercise my own two emotional legs; learning to uplift my OWN spirit. Relying on my own huge, but personal Heavenly Father to heal my wounds. I didn't see how weak I'd made myself on behalf of others; mistaking dormancy for gentleness. Not so.
This isn't a mere self-help lesson, but a self-less lesson. So, before I end this blog, I will list another "6 Things" list. Enjoy reader, you've been missed...
6. I love my corny sense of humor.
I've come to notice that it works on most people... plus, it's too much work being "the funny one", because everyone will expect you to be funny. Specializing in silliness, I'm the one that everyone shakes their head at, saying, "Ha. Oh, Brittney...."
5. I love music.
And I don't say that lightly like most people would say it...I truly do. From the hi jinks of OutKast to the subtle soulfulness of Celine Dion, I love it all. Faith Hill to Miles Davis, just give me real music. I pledge loyalty to any artist or musician who places entertainment second. Anyone who wishes to be seen, make money, or gain publicity will get my nod, but not my props. There is soooo much good music out there, but I thank God for the posers. It's easier to tell who's real by acknowledging the fake. I am so serious. Music is therapy. From the professional Italian opera to novice high school musicals, I love music. Give me music.
4. I have an eye for fashion.
Sometimes, I honestly wish my wallet obeyed my fashion sense, but there are times when it's not necessary. It goes beyond matching (which I take every opportunity NOT to) and looking crisp and neat. I like to take risks with my style. I would call my style "mildly experimental".
3. I want to adopt as many kids as I naturally have.
Yep. If I have 3, I want to adopt 3. Sounds insane I know, but it would be amazing to keep 3 brothers/sisters together who need a home, without separating them? Triplets would be awesome.
2. I cry too easily.
I noticed this about myself. Things that would make people melancholy almost break my heart to pieces. Earlier I was watching this movie where a guy died tragically. Only a couple of scenes earlier, he was cold to his wife and contemplating cheating on her, and I was ticked at him. "Who is this guy?" I was thinking. The moment he died, I was in tears!
...sad, I know. But don't laugh at me, I'm sensitive, remember?
1. If I didn't know any better...I would swear that I have multiple personalities.
Seriously. I understand that people have moods, but my dominant moods all have names, and they are all strong in their own way. When I am sad, I am really sad. When I am silly, I am especially silly. When I am righteously enraged, watch out. When I am affectionate....well....
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
6. I love to laugh.
I wish I did it more often. Any type of humor is okay with me...even the style that is controversial. Humor is only inappropriate within the context of its environment. (ie: You don't make racist jokes at an NAACP council meeting.) As for my own sense of humor, I suck. I'm corny. I cause more awkward silences/pauses more than I make people laugh. But yet, I try. Because I struggle with taking things, most of all myself, too seriously...
5. Tradition annoys me.
I believe that tradition is good for foundation's sake, but only that. If we never seek to build on that foundation, then we will depreciate the value of what is being built. I will esteem the ancient, but I will also strive to move forward; embracing change.
4. I am insightful.
I say this not in boast, because this is a blessing and a curse. Growing up, I knew all about my parents problems, because I felt stress in my home. I can tell when somethings wrong with people I barely know. Sometimes, I sense dishonesty and "evil". I have "bad feelings" that have usually been correct. At times I listen to this insight, and there are times when I ignore them. But I know that is why I'm more cautious than most.
3. I want lots of children.
I love kids on a level that's scary. Every time I see a child under 10, I go "Awww" to myself, and I feel a flutter inside my chest. It feels like love, almost. And that's weird because I don't have any kids of my own yet. It isn't that I think babies are adorable or innocent, but it's because of what they represent in the world. There are many things that are trying to kill the potential of our children, and no one seems to sense the unspoken urgency that I do. Plus, one of the highest privileges a woman can have is to be a mother (in my opinion).
2. I think...literally...all day.
I heard from a teacher that human beings use only 25-30% of their total brain mass. I think I use up to 45%. Ha. And not necessarily on intellect...but on my thoughts. I caught myself earlier thinking about 3 different things at once, and when I forced myself to think about nothing, it actually led to me thinking about different conversations I'd had with people about thinking too much. And so on, and so on....hahah. So yeah, I think too much. ::shrugs::
1. Love is my highest & deepest desire.
In every form and fashion. I want to experience it in all the ways it was created to be. I want to feel love for a pet. I want to love a child that is my own. I want to love a stranger. I want to love my spouse. I want to love a friend. I want to love my parents. I want to love God. This is one of the reasons why I cling to the Creator of my beliefs so tightly...because I've tried to love without Him, and I failed. I tried other ways, and I failed. The only way that I can totally experience and give love is to know its Source. Including His Son: Jesus Christ (because He exemplified Love in it's essence). So you see, this isn't just a religion to me, it's a relationship. It's my survival that's at stake.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
...and I started thinking.
When people in the Old Testament (of the Bible, I mean) were met with
certain provisions, or something life-changing happened to them, or God
revealed something new, they did one main thing:
They built an alter.
When God changed Jacob's name to Israel, he built a memorial on that very spot.
Serving as a physical memory. A reminder of what took place.
2008 so far has been a literal dramatic crescendo of events. I mean, one thing after the other. One challenge after another. And I've been presented with an expectant future. Lots to look forward to. And plenty to worry about.
...but I won't.
I'll simply grab a hammer & a handful of nails, along with a couple of pieces of wood...
and construct my own humble monument.
...maybe I'll call it "Jireh".
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
At times, I can have conversations about him with my mom, where we laugh about the person he was. We remember how perfect his smile was, or how he could walk in the pouring rain and would never get a single drop on his suede Timberland boots. I remember how his shoulders shook when he laughed. Most days, I can think of him, and not feel a stab in my chest. This painful realization that he has physically missed so much of my life.
...but today...was one of those days.
Granted, I have been able to walk around with some joy today. But I just wish I could talk to him. I wish he could stand in front of me and trip about how tall I've gotten, or smile at the young woman I am becoming. I want him to tell me that no guy would ever be good enough for me. I want him to slip me $20. I want him to hug me on my wedding day and play with my children. I want my kids to be able to say that "Uncle Mike" is their absolute favorite uncle. I will never have that.
And sometimes, even after 9 years, I still feel his void. I am complete in Christ, yes, but if you could look around my heart, you would see an empty chair with his name on it.
And I know that God's plan is perfect. I know that my brother is in a better place. I know that I will see him again someday. But days like this still happen. And I battle jealousy and anger each time I hear my roommate get so easily annoyed at her older brother for calling...just to chat with her. What a huge blessing in such a small gesture.
But the silver lining appears to me around this time of the day. First off, I can hear pride & joy, not grief, when my mother speaks of him. Each time my family gathers together, we talk about him as if he is only away at college. Not to mention, each time I see my nephew, I see a promise that my brother made.
Secondly, my brother, Michael, is, what I like to call...The.Reason...
But the day
I lost my song…
With no one around
But my notebook
And his companion…
We three became
Started a love affair
In which I
Consistently mourn your absence
Yet rejoice in your eternal rest
Unspoken void in me
I would have
Thank You.We miss you. I miss you.
Your little sis Britt
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Bold and strong.
Fierce and fragile.
Well acquainted with oppression, tragedy, and prejudice.
A forerunner even while behind the front lines.
Initial safe-haven for an unborn child.
Her son's first peer into love. Her daughter's steadfast tutor.
Her man's delicate sanctuary. Strong as iron, soft as silk.
Sophisticated and Kind.
Powerful and Just.
Her role stretches across the span of oceans:
From Teacher. Author. Activist.
To Nurturer. Lover. Provider.
Tributes through planes that sky-write to tattoos on arms.
"Hey mom's" mouthed into cameras to Ms. Angelou's "phenomenally".
Shakespeare sonnets to Tiffany diamonds.
Angela Davis to Angela Bassett.
Negative, scantly clothed images cast no shadow across the shine her subtle crown gives.
Temperamental moods in 5 to 7 day seasons are a necessary sacrifice in order to birth a world.
50 years of back-breaking manual labor condensed into 36plus hours of labor.
But you can keep your gold watch because retirement is not an option.
Her 9 to 5 comes in 24 hour shifts, just different name tags.
And since the auction block she worked alone.
Nursing her own infirmities meanwhile praying that she will
birth a healthy baby girl...
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Scratches across vinyl
Speak to natives like hieroglyphics
Retelling a history and preserving an inheritance
From one generation to the next
Equipping young hands:
With black paint
Chipping away in spots where they
Clutched and driven.
Personifying rage and amplifying truth.
[This proves Hip Hop has Soul.]
Clearing its throat.
Sending vibrations through low rumbles or high cries.
Preparation to rally with the oppressed
And empathize with the tortured.
A sea of hands wave left to right in agreement.
And boomin' like thunder.
Drum sets prey on emotion
At its rawest.
Sticks strike. Setting off explosions.
Land mines of sound.
A power given and a presence commanded.
[Feels like Rock really can be Hip.]
Consonants trip ears with their theatrical tactics
Hummed vowels pressed out of pursed lips
Carry listeners through highs and lows.
Revealing melodic epiphanies
And healing societal schisms with
Ministers of the earth-toned cloth
Stand with feet planted
Fluent in sign language
Whether it be two fingers; side by side
Or an enclosed fist raised proudly
[See? Soul can Rock it, after all.]
Thursday, March 27, 2008
"Mommy?" I asked her, "What do you call it when a caterpillar turns into a budd-erfly (butterfly, in adult language....c'mon, I was only 5.)?"
"What, my baby?" she replied.
With my semi-toothless grin, I declared, "Me-ta-mor-fuh-siss!!" (Metamorphosis)
That memory stays with me. I think when I came home from the first day of 1st grade, I had begun my love affair with words. Fascinated with the way each syllable bounced off my tongue and the sounds they made. Each word had a vibe of its own. Each enunciation unique. I used to love Handwriting class, too. I remember taking my huge, thin letter writing practice notebook home and going ahead of what my teacher assigned for homework. When we were learning how to write our "Gs", I was busy mastering my "Ns".
I had the WORST handwriting up until middle school, but that never kept me from my love of words. I wasn't outspoken or loud as a child, but that didn't stop me.
My interest with words increases steadily. I am well acquainted with libraries, bookstores, etc. I think I was the only kid in my whole elementary school that mastered the Dewey Decimal System. Card catalogs were a breeze to me. #1 on my Christmas list for years was Where the Wild Things Are or the newest Youth fiction novel. My mother knew that the best way to punish me for misbehaving was to remove all of my books out of my room. Simply sending me there only provided me refuge.
The floor of Barnes & Nobles is paved with gold; a place where I could honestly [and I sometimes secretly] break out into song.
In middle school I got near perfect scores on the verbal portion of the PSATs. I made straight A's in English. I even read the dictionary for fun!!!
This desire has also become a handicap of mine. I suffer from complexity issues a lot of the time. Every moment of my life requires a caption. Each occurrence a detailed explanation. Nothing can ever just be in my life. I must put it into words; in order to provide it with meaning.
But sometimes the silence that comes in a moment of awe is sufficient.
I am learning to welcome the ambiguity of life. To appreciate mystery and to see the beauty in simplicity.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Who is this guy I'm talking about? [Ladies, brace yourself. Fellahs, feel free to envy.] Now, if my heart could show you a photo of my love, it'd be a mix of three pictures...
The creator of the sonnet, the haiku, and the prose. The man whose wit runs deeper than any other person that I've ever met. A daily pursuit of mine is to find new avenues that he'll divulge more of his mind.
He. Fascinates. Me.
Simply because I didn't realize that a guy such as he actually existed. I'd hoped...but I wasn't sure...and I am so thrilled to have a reliable open door into his thoughts. And he shares willingly with me. I see no end to his brainpower. No lid up top other than his skull. Beyond that, the sky is really the limit. He challenges me to think, examine, reflect, imagine, and dream. I am never bored by our conversation. Even in those calm moments where we say nothing, he always manages to speak to me.
"Poetry Book (Part One)"
i run my hands across your poetry book.
feeling its texture
as you once did
my hands are where your hands
so...it's like you are touching ME.
i thumb through the pages in your poetry book.
one by one.
imagining that each new page is
as promising to me as they were to you
and you hold nothing back
so...it's like you're filling my empty spaces
i trace my fingers across the words written on the pages in your poetry book
left to right
to jagged lines
one after the other
as if my hand is holding
the pen that you held
to write these words
so...it's like you are holding me
...lay me. across your lap.
touch me. search me.
fill. complete me.
and hold me...
...like I am your poetry book.
Second, there is the one that consistently surprises me:
Weak knees & numb hands are just the beginning. He is unconsciously adorable and unintentionally sexy. While some ladies would turn their nose up at his wide smile, strong arms, and intuitive eyes; I could not be more lured. He tries his best as a boyfriend, but I am shocked that he cannot see how naturally the Lover inside of him flows. Now, I am not even meaning in a sexual manner, technically. Truth be told, that's a fruit we haven't yet tasted of...and yet...my experiences loving him and being loved by him tells me that he is the best lover I have ever had.
"A Hangover's Daydream'
I see silhouettes of lovers holding hands, exchanging gazes, and
At this flaunt of emerging and bursting love,
I smile and I concur.
Sneaky public displays and quaint duos tangled in fondness
Only generate memories that hint at my own affair.
Warmth is meticulously duplicated inside of me
[Taken from the eyes of those who have made the same discovery
And is spread from end to end.
My wit became congested
Morphing the very spot where I stood.
Distorted and blinking I look around
Thinking I sensed his scent and
Felt the brush of his fingertips next to my cheek.
Taken aback I staggered
Drunk from affection
Inebriated due to the reminiscence of my love's presence
Lacking all sobriety
I collect each piece of my recollections of him and
Stumble my way towards the place he resides
To make our dream reality.
Lastly, the part that has come to be the foundation of our relationship: The Jedi.
I've touched the hands
of a revolutionary.
and a catalyst
I've kissed the lips
of a revolutionary.
a potential name
Not one amongst
the legions of those
bound by the streets
and chained to a mindset
he pumps his fist
but he's holding
He's the epitome
of Black Pride.
Confusing the masses
Because he maneuvers just fine without
The gun on his hip
And the chip on his shoulder.
Pointing no fingers
and expecting no hand-outs.
With feet firm.
His convictions are deeply rooted.
His sights see beyond the Struggle.
His age inconsistent
of his wisdom
But oh. How his father
his eyes were just as clear.
He doesn't just know of revolution
or hope for revolution
or front with the cap wearin' and slogan shoutin' revolution
He thinks revolution
I'm loved by the spirit of
too good for this world.