B is for Bliss

Can anyone say technical difficulties?!?!?!?!?! Soooooo, within my quest/challenge of writing daily on my blog my laptop decided to die on me. When revived, the signal I was borrowing decided that it now wanted to be private and password protected which sucks horribly but my quest shall continue! Moving on…

B is for………

BLISS

the color of light Aging beyond the horizon,

the smell of nothing familiar, behind the truth,

the taste of everything beautiful but nothing delicious

the sense of direction lost,

TravelingRunningWalkingCrawling in circles,

falling past a thousand fates

into the rush of happiness, to swim in leagues of

FREEDOM.

.

New Year, New Post... A is for Allure

Once again the New Year has snuck up on me again… Well not really…. Every year I hear people say New Year new me, which last all of 2 weeks “IF” that long. For me I’ve have always said that I want to be better than the last year. But for 2014, I want to Challenge myself. Success as well as Failure only comes with Challenges. My Mother has always told me that “Failure is not an option” but I have learned that in order to even reach for success you have to come to the terms that failure must be equally respected and appreciated. That failure teaches us things that we rather not learn, and that in order to succeed at anything you must fail at something. Without failure we would not know what success is.

So, for the first day of this new year I took time to think about how I was going to Challenge myself and  the many ways as well as areas I would challenge myself in. One of those Challenges is writing. Since I don’t write every day I will start by Blogging every day. As a warm up, I’ve decided to use the A to Z blogging Challenge that my good friend Kisura Usiku used in April. Instead of choosing a general topic I will just chose a word from the appropriate letter of the day and simply write what comes to mind….

A is for…..

Allure

Attraction bred with temptation,

Motion colliding with space

Lips to fingers,

Knees to chest,

Motion collides with space

sweat mixing sweetly,

with

waters that cascade,

waters that drip,

waters that tremble

in the wake

of

our

BLISS…..

Chest and Treasure…

 

Yesterday I learned exactly what my son thinks of me… I also caught a glimpse of the kind of man he will become. And after seeing and learning I feel a sense of gratitude that I’ve never known… I am teaching my children that love, respect, and honor are important, but morals and values have to be the foundation. We simply can’t have one without the other. Little did I know, my Angels are…were listening…

So on yesterday the Prince crawled into my bed, kissed my cheek, smiled, and said Happy Mother’s Day Mama, while handing me a card. On the top he drew an action figure with a caption bubble that read: “I am your Armor!”  Below he wrote: Mom, you are the Great Mom I know and I am so happy to have you. I love you so much. I am the Chest and you are my Treasure, I’m always going to protect you, because I love you. My heart melted and still melts every time I think about it.

All I can say is that they get it! My son is becoming the gentleman my Father taught my brother to be! He is getting the message, he is learning the lessons, and I am blessed beyond Measure!

 

Life is Good, really Good….

the dilemma of waiting...

W

aiting… Is not something I do well,  I’d like to think I have the patience thing down…. but the past events of this week have hindered my patience… while writing this I’m trying to find my way like feeling around through darkness even though the lights are on…

The light of  knowing the full truth of the matters, the darkness of not knowing where the boundary lines lie, how much you can attain within it's perimeters, and how much of it's area you can cover… but in this darkness I know EXACTLY what I want….

movies, dinners, afternoon strolls in the park, weekend getaways, the simple movement of everyday life that alludes to waking up next to each other and knowing that this is the first and last place you’d ever want to be… and although I know I can have these things, I shouldn’t want these things, I should abandon these notions but the deepness of my resolve will not allow it. Somehow I feel like it would be right only if I disengaged, gracefully added a cutesy, and walked away…   BUT my selfishness wants to give in selflessly…

I'm falling,

to a place I've never been...

I wonder if HE 

can

catch

ME ...

before the relapse...

 

The “Mr” I once loved chose to reentered his world of darkness. A world of promised wealth, but complicated with a war that breeds incarcerated causalities.  Now that he’s become a victim of the darkness, every so many weeks I feel a need to write. I haven’t figured out why but I do know that, For three years or and more I wrote everyday….every single fucking day…I wrote, about dreams, aspirations, daily plans and activities, my children, I painted futures and discussed whiting out the past even though I knew it wasn’t possible, but the idea was nice! The point is I wrote every single fucking day….never missed a day…every day I mailed a piece of myself 343 miles away…to be someone else’s sunshine…and he acknowledged it, called me his angel…every fucking single day I wrote…And now that over three years have passed I have learned to exchange the anger for something I have not given a name yet. But within the terms of the exchange I let the old me die, let her drift into a quiet passing, and promised not to mourn her death or shed tears. And although I buried her, the remnants of her resolve still exist flowing and mixing itself with the streams of my blood. And every now and again I hear her scream, cry out for what was lost, then scramble to reach for what is familiar. In these times I restrain her, comfort her, and remind her of the things she forgot. Knowing all the facts doesn’t keep me from wanting to write, but knowing the outcome does. Knowing that I am not the same woman keeps my fingers at bay.

Knowing the part of me that loved him has been cut away and stapled shut keeps me from the relapse!

WindowSeat

Erykah Badu is singing in my background and instead of letting it play I rewind or fast-forward to the chorus and I sing…“can I get a window seat, don’t want nobody next to me… I just want a ticket out of town, a look around and a safe touch down”

And then I realize that I want to escape, a GRAND escape…a “Where in the World is Carmen SanDiego” escape...a nobody knows where I am escape… an escape that includes post cards that read “Hello, I am Safe”, and letters to my children that say “I love you and I’ll be home soon, voice mails that utter I miss you, and emails that read “Backpacking through Europe”…


“Sooooo…. can I get a window seat, don’t want nobody next to me… I just want a ticket out of town, a look around and a safe touch down…:”




The honest truth is that I was never met to be anchored and maybe this would explain why I only feel a sense of home around my children… I know I don’t belong to any particular place, but I believe I belong to the movement of trees on windy nights, swaying in and out of freedom’s warmth …or maybe I belong to the ocean where my ebbs flow to distances pass forever, swirling in passionate crests, that tide the beaches with caress…


Drifting…

“can I get a window seat, don’t want nobody next to me… I just want a ticket out of town, a look around and a safe touch down…


I wanna get to that place where my body is allowed to melt into a cloud and mate with raindrops…. Or maybe that place past the horizon, beyond night, and just before heaven where I can walk meadows of lilac and admire my purple footprints…


“can I get a window seat, don’t want nobody next to me… I just want a ticket out of town, a look around and a safe touch down…


I’d like one ticket,
out of town,
going nowhere in particular,
just away from here…


long enough to miss and be missed

Thoughts/Feelings .vs. People

                                                             My writing energy is at an ALL TIME LOW!!! I don’t know what’s keeping me but I feel compelled to write about People, thoughts, and feelings and the truth about them. I may be venting but I have noticed that most of us Live in the Context of our thoughts, we expect everybody to say, think and do what we would say, think, and do…How is that living or enjoying who someone really is if you are expecting something that is impossible?????

Example…

                                              In short, I made a comment and explained what my thoughts and feelings were. The person looks at me and says, “I would have never said that to you”, My thoughts were well I don’t expect you too since you’re not me and I’m not you, but because they said their feelings were hurt I kept that part to myself. But it has been gnawing at me for days…why is it so important for people to say and do what others think they should. Can’t you love/like/befriend someone because of the differences, their sheer uniqueness, and try to understand them in the terms they live in and not your own. I thought people owned their own thoughts and feelings and were free to think according to whatever tone they choose?


                            I am a lot of things and at the same time I’m not a lot of things…I’m in repair… I let people be free to think, feel, and do as they please, I want to like you for the person you are not the person I want you to be. If my feelings get hurt in the process help me understand the logic of your thinking so I understand not change to comfort me.


             For these reasons I don’t share my thoughts or feelings they are private, and most people don’t understand them or want to take the time to understand, because they are too busy trying to hear what they want you to say, so why say anything?

We have two ears and one mouth for a reason…

Therefore I am quick to think and slow to speak …