Monday, September 3, 2012
* I closed my eyes and a poem appeared, but I couldn’t read it in the dark. Something raw just spoke in my mind and all the other voices tried to overshadow what it was saying to me. Just because I speak of the sensitivities of my clitoris aloud to myself & you, does not mean the caress of your tongue can soothe between my pants, what blowing does for extremely hot foods. Yet, you blow my mind with your arrogance & egotistical explanations of “I am listening but I don’t hear you because my own mind already has 10 million voices that are more important than you.”. I could shoot my brains out & hope the grey matter splatters on the floor & walls just so you can see & read more clearly into exactly what I know & think, because telling you has no purpose when I serve it on a platter. Make you piece together all the peace I ever felt & see if your puzzle of me comes back to the same way you last thought of who I was supposed to be & how u were supposed to “know” me. Maybe you can grab your mallet and crack my legs wide open like a hot seafood platter & see if you can taste the juicy, meaty goodness inside, because this outside shell is my only barrier for protection from pain & vulnerability. You could probably kiss the lips of my pussy & see if that makes me any more of a woman because when it comes from the lips of my mouth, the words has less of a meaning to where the impact should be spoken & respected. Why lay down & listen to the rain, when I can go out in it with my umbrella but hold it to my side & let the moisture pour from my legs of a everlasting waterfall & shower of what nature intended to be the most prized element next to Holy Water. A woman’s virtue is written in Proverbs 31. These are our rules to be what we are. Yet a man’s responsibility is supposed to be enough example & encouragement for us to even consider following the path laid for us.. There is no plan to engulf & consider for love & my life. I don’t have a ticking bomb wrapped on my wrist because my Gods did not CREATE TIME! ”T”hey “I”nvented “M”emories “E”ndless to what we once read & believed, but now are corrupted by todays laws that the 3 Wise men, Jesus & his 12 Disciples, Moses & Noah had NOT formed guidance from. Our people are dead. Causes they died for & these past 6 generations have been killed endlessly for. There is no end to evolution but this revolution has seized the efforts of hope for the futures relived imaginations. In which, I will not birth from my vaginal walls, a slave of this or the next generation. I will keep birthing a spoiled child inside my soul & my youth & watch it grow inside my hopes, dreams, adventures & reality. Creating a legacy that X&Y chromosomes could not pair together because My Creator was not a scientific, researched & experimented project. -QSS 9/4/12
I was 12 when i lost my birth right. Lost the joyous air that gave me life. Still, to this day, I do get uptight. I know she put up a graceful fight, But, I never got to witness the beauty in her sight. I witnessed her struggle though. I witnessed the parts of her life die slow. I was 7, & with sisters, we were taken. A child removed from its home, I was mistaken. We were never to return to the home that gave us life. Where my sisters & i put up a great number of fights. Where our basement was a school, & we had freedom with no restriction or rule. But she had restrictions at the doorstep. She couldnt remove her habits to help herself survive. Because no one helped her when she was alive. & her seeds were too young to mentally be by her side. But she tried. Tried to do what was right but her past life was still dirty. She couldnt change that, but her future, was getting clean. She was clean; face clear, smile beautiful & sirene. Wanting to reunite with her girls of 3. So She begged & pleaded spiritually on her knees. God had given her a Yes, but her own birth right forever said an unforgiven No to her pleas. I did not witness her cries. But we all witnessed the lies. A house of disorder set to flames, Only with our anger could we be the remains. I was 12 when I lost my birth right. As I loss, I gained something else. I gained my own life. Had no 1 to tell me how bad the menstrual pains of life would be. So I pushed to fight, With my Siblings of Temporary Rivalry. There was never a clear winner because we all lost. As, from us, she tried to gain. But when age 14-15 came There was no love left to remain. We 3, called names for her heavenly sake. Trifling, selfish, dead like your mother, ungrateful asses. And that final day I broke free of her shameful past. She had disrespected our birth rights’ ashes. A bag of clothes & belonging, she was there, tossed like trash. And just like we lost her, so had we became, to our grandmother & her respect. Yes, she carried us through her orphanage. But she too, restricted us at her doorstep. Kicked out. We became each others birth rights. We dared to live for her fight. As bloods boiled, we thickened our skin. Fought the evil circumstances that wanted to get in. And we were alone to begin. Tried building our own home. We did. I think back to the strength of my birth right. Over the years, many times helpless & homeless. I see myself fall into her light. Many times successful but failing each battle I fight. I see her in the mirrors of my sight. When 21, a grown woman in my own eyes. But no womanly talk from my birth right. That impossible feat that I yearned. So I shed 21 hours of tears that age 12 had not learned. My strength had not been evil or burned. It was, making her happy with my life that got me by. It was a spirit there saying it’s finally ok to cry. And that Mothers Day of 2010, with tears pouring from my face i saw the color of the sky. In my own eyes. -A Daughter. TJW.
He was Mr. 2012. Young Forever.. My mutual commitment to the relationship. Priceless Ring of Always & Forever engraved in our hearts. We did things the right way. He knew me inside & out & he knew how to deal with a female like me. He wore the crown. Mutual actions & love for each other at the same time. Travel meant nothing but more time for us. Family loves me & I love them. Sitting in at that wedding, I thought about us, just as Mom & little Sis did & we laughed about it. We were poets inside our own Hollywood Divorce. He shared my world. We beat the distance. Competitive & the right amount of aggression, we knew how to give each other space. Gave all of ourselves, made home, home. Conquered issues most couldn’t from previous relationships. We could pray together & await a world greater for ourselves & he helped me emotionally even when he couldn’t be. Everyone awaited our wedding. Our friends were in a close knit family even before He & I began. We fit together like the last 2 pieces of loves 50,000 puzzle. But our communication fell silent out of anger when it needed to scream loudly. I was so mad, he didn’t get a shot for a 2nd chance he deserved. Outkasts. I finally started to forgive myself. We’re still family & friends. He was video games, guitar playing, Mr. High off life & herbs. Never spoke in class but watched silently all year long. Mutual unspoken words & coolness & that could have been all. Text messages & facebook conversations. Was younger than me, and in the end, that’s exactly how he acted. But he was the cool that I needed at the time. Gave him all I could give essentially. Written poetry & Painted pictures of Rastafarian hearts across the canvas. Had my entire heart wide open & in the end, shattered it like the broken urn of my heartbeats ashes. Mixed communication from the start of what was not Love to him, even though he said it, but lied and it was only Lust. Same with the girl who still had his heart. Sublime. Took a long time, but I think I forgave him. We’re still friends. He was a lying immature man….. But I was open. Goofball & fun with all the same crowd of friends. Giving 2nd chances more than twice called for. We, me & his brother went way back, but not that far. Just cool kids enjoying life. I could’ve never been his wife but we were two cool ass “more than friends”. And more than friends, he got too close to his other friends. I pushed myself from his cheating ass. But he kept coming back with broken promises that taught me not to trust. Kept apologizing & asking if he could do more. To give me more communication & make up for the pain. The final answer. NO. He helped me set that standard. Never forgiven. We’re not friends. SHE was beauty, brains, body, elegance, & intelligence. African Queen like me, & she was…. A sight to see. Campus events & a shy way to catch my eye, but indeed she did as she put my number in her pink phone, If I can remember correctly. We emailed poetry back & forth & she captivated me with her French words & the way she could moved. Lips like mine & the kisses were sweet. A bit of jealousy with My bff who I already called Wifey because she wanted the title. But she did become my woman sure enough as soon as I was willing to love her that much.. And she too held a huge secret from me for a few months that I hadn’t seen her & it angered me much. A beautiful belly engulfed a beautiful baby girl I wanted to protect as my own. Then a proposal in front of me that made my heart sink. She’s had her beautiful ways of silently hurting me inside. After some trying times, she was forgiven. Communication steady at times. Our bond stronger & we share a small, yet strong collective of family. She will always be my friend. This man was the growth I needed. Mr. I’m a grown ass man & I can show you how a WOMAN is supposed to be treated. He was the “this time is the last time” mentality. Sexy, baldhead, motorcycle riding, father & friend. Sweet hearted. Great friend to everyone. More than 10 years older than me & much more stable with his own life. As I was getting my own life on a great track. He supported me without giving too much leadway. Afternoon joy rides turned into late night of talking & falling asleep on each others shoulder. He knew what he was ready for & we respected our personal lives. “Treat each other the way you want to be treated” & we did just that. We had a lil Love Jones for each other & some people could see it. Routine down. The brothers joked around but protected me about age differences but saw what comfort we had. It was just that, too comfortable. We just mutually went our separate ways with a bit of pain to show for it. Communication was great, now not at all. We started as friends, ended the same way. He was smooth with his words. Tall & handsome but he was NOT dark. Tried for something ‘different”. Made all the right moves. Said he’d do anything for me, & he did. We had fun & talked some. Lived far but he could find me by just looking at the stars. Though between those stars, were his dark secrets. Things I wasn’t prepared for when we got closer. Play fighting turned into real fights & emotional clashes. Mental issues I could not help him solve. I tried my best to support him but couldn’t help him, could only protect me from the madness inside his mind & my own tragedies. His family was cool though. No warnings to anyone about the guy he really was. No money, no love, no feelings, could hide that disrespect from anger in a fight, that his communication chose, to call me a Bitch. I left everything & was Gone. For a second we were, but who knows if we’re still friends. He was Mr. Baltimore, Pisces to my Pisces. King Neptune to me, Aphrodite. The musician to my poetry & his lyrics complimented me & I supported him. Could have been the one cause his heart & everything was the same as mine. Never see each other but spiritually felt the physical emotions we had. He was the tattooed, Yin to my Yang & no one from our circles needed to know, but most of his family knew. We had us, wrapped tight for safe keeping. He knew my spirit and my heart. Same struggles, moving, troubles & deceit from the outside world. We inspired & encouraged each other to do & be better in life & our crafts. I would give as he gave. But distance never brought us close. We could never be or give all of ourselves. Communication fell short & ceased within impatient urges to be together created anger. Never really had a chance like we thought. He’s still MY friend. He was some kind of a thug. He had a heart though after I got to know him. He chose wisely & made right decisions on his own time. Never cared about his flaws. We hung out, laughed, got high & listened to music. Enjoyed life for what it was, got crazy & sometimes we argued like idiots. He loved my attitude & knew how to fight back with aggression. He enjoyed how I expressed myself through poetry, still to this day. Was never into extravagant things & just lived life as he wanted. I had a different kinda cool ass love for him. I was his ride-or-die & He had his way of words with me…. Same way he did with another Baltimore girl. He thought his words would keep a sista around but trust was gone after his own broken promises & excuses. He wasn’t ready, though he said he was & had 2 chicks set in his spider web & we had to confront him. I fought my way out. He was forgiven. He’s still a supporter. Communication cool cause he’s a sweetheart when he can be & we still talk shit to each other & have great conversations about life that is now. We’re still family & friends. She is Mrs. Ready to Love. Always ready to love and live. Mrs. Willing to try anything once But never settling to have to change for someone not willing to love or give love back to her at the same time. She was once a broken female just ready to give love to whomever would tolerate it. But she’s learned what tolerating can get her. We talk daily & compare what good life could have been if we loved ourselves first. Aggressive in her pursuit of happiness, hoping that being happy alone is not the only way. Empty heart, broken promises, shattered dreams, hurtful lies, untold future, painful truths & a yearning to give back the love she openly gave to most. But she never regrets the choices she made. Always tried to make the next her last but forgetting that last doesn’t always end the same. And last doesn’t make the end a 1st place prize to be received. She is a Queen who knows her worth & shouldn’t be hurt in any relationship because she loves hard. But knowing hard is no enough to love because she still gets hurt by those she give her heart to. Now she asks herself, what is love & how much of it is real. She doesn’t believe is “actions speak louder than words” anymore because if actions speak truth but words hold lies, there is still no trust to account for either to work together. She is, a woman standing on the unsteady edge of love & life & what will make her happy when no one else, internally could. Our communication is very silent & I still talk to her in my mind. My only true friend. He was looked at as Mr. Right. Supposed to be & hoped for. He was a good man that never showed me his flaws. He was a slick talker, “let us be friends & maybe something more one day because I like to flirt”. I did see the appearance of someone just like me.. Poetically inclined, musically tuned & certainly fine. “07″ took 5 years & then there we were. Finally! Last one I said I would ever give a ring to because I’m done looking for love & being hurt or wrong. But you can’t predict the future. Ladies man with a lot about US hidden. Mr. Social butterfly in the limelight, when the opposite of me wants quiet & most times he cant understand that. Wandering ways, always wanting to do for others but I had to open his eyes for the good of himself. Things started off “too good to be true”. I thought they did but TIME painted the bigger picture. I gave all of me when I knew & felt it was right. He took all of me & I had to wait so he could pilot his own “let me be prepared for love” flight. Its hard to forgive possible Mr. Right when he didn’t see me as Mrs. Right when the time was right. And yet, as much as it kills me, I let him have his way & we fight over Anything & Everything without compromise cause I loved him so hard. But he wasn’t ready. That hurts the most. Communication sucks & I yet still love him, still linger in my thoughts of “what now & what will be”… Now he’s flying south of the border where he’ll be comfortable & I’m steady North on my “Space-intoxicated, always alone, waiting & wanting to be loved & in love the right way at the right time kind of life.” What are the chances…. Of our relationship he once called “friends”…. The Circle Continues.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Let me define individual style....I dont see the lights that we call fashion as a means for attention. My sense of style is only for me. I dress the way I feel. Others dress to be seen. People wear certain things and labels as a means to fit in society & to be accepted by their peers.
Monday, October 17, 2011
My love for you is strong. Beating deeper than my heart. This is my drunken love song. With no controlled rhythms or inhibition. I see your beautiful nature as my art. You are the muse to a canvas not yet in creation. I carry your spirit with me on these adventures. Everyday we intertwine our mental souls. Growing stronger in our world without amateurs. Forming new life, our mission, our goals. Building a home of love in natural form. This is our life. Fire & water, defeating the storm. -QSS I woke up reaching for you. Mentally stretching my brain to grab you. Since I physically can't feel you, I hope this touches you. I love you.
Morning thoughts surface my mind of the night before. Sexual tension escalates deep in my bones. Imagining that i was in bed & he was walking through the door. This is my heart, my soul, within his home. I was about to write but the blood in my hands wouldn't pour. I got caught thinking, why is my body alone. Spirit, heart & emotions are spilled out on his floor. Left for him to pick up piece by piece. For him to recover & bring back to life. Desperate for his love to be my release. Calling him husband & I, wanting to be wife. To be the life partner & soulmate left in peace. Together we evolve this Earth. Naturally we are lifes love giving birth. I forget how to say... Words I was about to write. He takes away my breath. Gasping for air until there is nothing left. He holds me close. Closer than letters combined to prepare words. Though there are no sentences left to compose. It is his love that makes me weak. I was about to write, but theres no need to speak. Complete.
Friday, September 9, 2011
I believe that love is above the highest creation that we can encounter as living beings & organisms on this Universe. Whether it be Supernatural, spiritual, atypical, emotional, of the moment, sympathetic, fantasy, realistic, morbid, abstract, eccentric, religious or superficial...
There is no other emotion that translates greater than love!
There is no other emotion that translates greater than love!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
I've always saw you at the bar of my imagination.
Tending to the outgoing customers of my dreams.
Pouring shots of love into glasses covered with sugary, sweet kisses.
Dressed to impress had been the plan, displayed with full preparation.
Engaged in first sight, holding back screams.
Having visions of touch come true, defeating previous mirages.
What I feel, can now be seen.
What was dreamt, has been brought to life.
When once, closing eyes meant touching the future of a life not lived.
We surpass the goals of moments imagined to spend with each other.
A freed feeling of being high amongst the clouds of an inhaled adventure.
Trips are taken to explore the realms of a future world.
A futuristic life of 2.
Sharing the emotions of "high on life" bonds chemically fulfilled within them.
It is a Natural Love substance that intoxicates every emotion.
Holding the handcuffs with narcotics I can't claim innocence from.
There is indeed a world of the unknown.
Unaware of the power within two spirits, the dosages we intake have created a love bound spell.
Potions of an undying love forming together as one heart with timeless beats.
We are chosen, have chose the poisons that intertwine as the powerful test of ecstatic, emotional effervescence.
We engulf ourselves in our own Romeo & Juliet drug of never ending love.
Where deep passion lies within the kisses that are breathtaking.
We take each others minds & inject pieces of our souls to form the missing parts of previous life.
Preparing the weak, tingling feelings of what penetrating beyond the skin can do.
Becoming addicted to the intervention services of a hearts' truest form of dependency.
We share, life's last impressions of what futures hold,
Beyond the hallucinations of the dying world.