14 December 2010

genesis and devotion

an epic poem
co-written w|Zach (http://memnochcity.tumblr.com/)

If goddesses could fly, I'd demand your company tonight. But no, they walk upon ancient streets, casting their thoughts, like sesame seeds, to the populace of Paris.

If kings could leave their throne without sacrificing their kingdom, I'd summon you to venture off into mine. But as their reign over their territory is dependant upon their absence from me, I sacrifice my treasure so that you can have your own.

You speak of venturing, I speak of flight. Lo and Behold if you're caught in the night, then can my armies rest while my sight is blessed. It is true that many tried to journey the mountain, but you always knew the path to me best.

My king, ours is the story told generations ago of a love that surpassed all odds. I will mount if you will come and together we can create our destiny.

Yes, I heard a story told once before. The troubadour ran off, but I wanted more. I searched the kingdom high and low, and found the pool where your worshippers go. I saw your face make life out of stone, and knew then and there that you were my own.

Worlds clash and oceans flee upon feeling the climatic decree that is our ensemble. Apart we conceive new mysteries and future prodigies; together we give them life.

Your arms are hot and I feel the brand as they pull me from this somber land. Such heights. Such clouded highs I will know? If what you say is true, and I do believe it's true, I will go with you. But what do I leave behind? This earth is poor and though my heart is sore, on this patch, here I must stand. To be a King, to warm a throne- A root I am in this land.

And goddess, I, must reign likewise. A choice to make: nurture the land already our own, or create anew a separate one? A choice, 'tis true, but ours to make? Let's take the night, then separate.

Then come, come quick. Press your breast against mine, let hand meet hand, and lip part lip, together our breath travels the winds of time. But wait! A boot step, a sword drawn near! The enemy is here. You must away, take heed, don't stray. These men know nothing of the heavenly sort. I will stay here and defend this bed... I will have my night with you if it leaves me dead. Now go!

I go for now, our moment postponed but not lost nor forgotten. To return to you soon, to commence what we must- fabricate our fate yet begotten. Before I depart an I love you does the same from my mouth. Until time permits, I guide my people and sit, awaiting my trip to your kingdom down south.

A kiss, an embrace, one final caress and he watched as her figure disappeared from her dress. The king, bound to earth, still stunned but alert, knelt down to protect the sacred garment from dirt. The boots began to thunder, and the door began to shake. He stepped to his wardrobe, and donned silver chain of the finest make. He reached for his blade, and his horn, too. He flung wide the doors, they hadn't a clue. This king fought like a demon... but the goddess knew different. She watched from afar; heard his horn sing and his war-metal ring. He fought like a lover, not a soldier near the bed could stand, before he cut them down, shouting her name: the Spirit of the Land.

She smiled upon him knowing his deed, graced him with her presence, heard his cry and took heed. And as one final gesture before leaving for good, she left him a message only he understood:
a final remark I don you, my king
of lilies and sunsets and humid, wet springs
of fertile land and lived fantasies
and treasures discovered, brought in from the sea
the realization of you in me
all to us the future brings
With that she departs, in spirit, but not heart, until the next time each the other does see.

13 November 2010

it must be you

jazz diddy | poetry

unliklihood of losing and
sad and lonesome turned amusing in
a wooden box for a room
whose walls are made of music
and whose ceiling is infused with
early evenin whispers in june

dreams I can almost touch
rain that washes away the gloom
must mean that 'I love you so much':
the living essence of my lilies' bloom

a spur-of-the-moment rendez-vous
any excuse just to be with you
even if it's just for a while
watching you play me a tune
at your keyboard with a backdrop view
of a wall of windows coerces me to smile

dreams I can almost touch
a one-on-one backyard game
must mean that 'I love you so much':
the moonlight that brings sunshine to my day

it's not that I've never seen a sky at night
or drank away my sorrows with lemonade
been to a show a time or two
but I ain't never felt this way
my darlin I think it must be you

dreams I can almost touch
rain that washes away the gloom
mean that 'I love you so much':
the living essence of my lilies' bloom

I ain't never felt this way
my darlin it has got to be you

11 November 2010

remembering now

beautiful randomness

I live my life like a memory.
Constantly aware of my future's reminiscence of my current me, I wake up having only gained from my experience what I know I will have need for then. I see my future self needing my current me to be just as she is when she is. And she smiles knowing I was in on her (not so) secret, content that I paid her wish heed.

(What is a memory? Not a replica of an event or emotion, but a representation. A collection of images that aren't really even that. (Can I not, then, remember my future? I think they call that deja vu.) How, then, do we seperate our memories from our fantasies? Was it that he grazed my cheek with the intention of making my blood run hot, or did he really just want to brush the hair from my face? fantasies, dreams, memories, desires. what are they all but intangible actualities: known, maintained, inexcapable, true.. to someone at least. namely: me)

She lives her life exactly as she imagined (remembered) she would. Because she lived her life exactly as she wanted (needed) to.

(Is it impossible to enjoy life as it happens if you're too busy trying to remember it before it's over? Or is it that you enjoy it that much more for taking it in. Twice the fun. Three times upon my future's reminisence. Mmm, his warmth is becoming mine. became mine. becomes mine..)

What marvel there is in the comfort of knowing that if given the chance, your future you wouldn't change a thing about who your are, were, am

the paint splattered walls of the mind match the slush scribbled parameters of this house.. or is it the inverse?

Either way, I remember them.

08 November 2010

totally random blogpost about kwanzaa (and stuff)

man it's funny. I've been changing so much, right before my own eyes. I was not too long ago the every-sunday-church-goin, all-As-recieving, hair-relaxed-wearin, preppy-dressed, just-say-no-proclaimin, 'they-call-me-shy-cus-I-am'-introducin, save-myself-til-marriage Chaina. I'm no longer quite as reserved. and more and more I see myself becoming more.. "afro-centric"- maybe it's the hair. ha. seriously though, you couldn't have told me even 5 years ago that I would one day be sitting in a room in Paris, hair self-dreading, missing green, and thinking about celebrating kwanzaa. yes, kwanzaa. hear me out:

so I was thinking: non-christians shouldn't celebrate Christmas. or at least they shouldn't call their celebration and gift-giving Christmas. as I am currently searching myself and my surroundings for my personal 'where do I come from' answer to the great humanity question, I began to think, what if I decide I'm not a Christian? I still want to extra-spoil my kids once a year! not just that, of course. but the spirit of Christmas warms me. the family time energizes me. and the gifts have always been more about giving as a show of love for me than a time to recieve. so I thought of Kwanzaa. looked it up. and I really like it's tenants, its core. while I probably wouldn't wear african garb, I would most definately love a time to focus on (and focus my family on) the importance of unity, creativity, and self-determination for example. I would focus on it's connection to Africa for historical purposes, but not in a back-to-africa sense. I do not wish to imitate Africans, nor do I wish to insinuate that we're some kind of quasi-african, I simply wish to celebrate parts of their everyday culture that I also hold dear and appreciate.

what's more it lasts a week! this gives the family so much time to truely reflect on what's important. gives it time to sink in.

now is this a holiday? I wouldn't say so. but I also wouldn't say that mattered. it's a celebration of love, life, and responsibility. hmmm.. still thinking, but I really like this. PLUS it can't possibly clash with any religious tenants I may hold dear in the future (including Christianity) and will compliment them well, if needed.

I'm trying to tell myself I'm not becoming a characiture of some afro-hippie of the past but I must say, I'm only doing what I'm truely led to. it's just so strange, even to me, considering this is nothing like my upbringing. I mean my Grandma Lee celebrated/s kwanzaa but I never did with her, (I just remember reading it on the Merry Christmas/Happy Kwanzaa card with my gift). I was the first to go natural in my house (now there are 2 dreadheads and me), and even then it wasn't about going back to my roots so much as me wanting a wild curly mane, and not to learn how to relax my own hair. and what's more it's not that I'm influenced by some 'cool kids' group on campus. I'm in paris for goodness' sake, having random epiphanies about kwanzaa and letting my hair dread out of laziness. I guess I should be content and stop questioning myself, hunh? this is the real me. man this is wild.

07 November 2010

sun, rise

thinking of him as I watch the sunrise through my window
sipping my coffee
knowing that in 6 short hours he'll be watching the same sun rise
sipping his tea
and thinking of me

looking forward to our first shared sunrise
every morning
I am one morning closer to my sweet heart

06 November 2010


things I love: 30s and 40s cinema, 80s hip-hop, 90s r&b, sam cooke, malcolm x, jazz music, soul, men with dreads, mama's boys, shoes, katherine hepburn, james 'jimmy' stewart, green, fashion-esp 30s (which people think is the one undefineable decade. HA!), eating food that tastes good, doing person-specific things for the people I love, philosophy, intelligent conversation, a good cry, my family, teaching, children, knowing that I've been a blessing to someone and that I will bless many more yet (God willing), words, good blogs, poetry, art, photography, incense, the color turquoise, genuine friendship, house m.d., laughter, my sweetheart's backyard, atlanta's magnolias, lilies, philly cheesesteak, pina coladas, the sound of any saxaphone I've ever heard, the snow, caramel, lengerie, tigger, disney's beauty and the beast, strawberry milkshakes, my grandma lee's subtle yet potent afro-centricity, christmas music, smiling or laughing to myself over a good memory, pockets, love

things I like: cooking, singing, reading, listening to french radio stations while drinking coffee, being in paris, being reluctant to meet new people or try new things and then discovering those new persons or things are quite wonderful, youtube, getting dressed, skype, being annoyed by my sister, the way my grandma brook's emails can almost bring me to tears even though all they say is I'm praying for you and I miss you, soft rain, doing new cultural things (art shows, museums, speeches...), limeade

things I don't like: PMSing, bad dreams, being away for too long, the feeling of "I should have...", insencerity, disrespect, bad mouth children, being hot, not being able to explain my emotions, boredom, having my time wasted

things I hate: poor logic offered as fact, intentional hurt, abuse, neglect, isms, hate

things I miss: being told I will only fall asleep, falling asleep, and then being reprimanded for falling asleep on movies during sleepovers with the sibs, my bed, mom's cooking, going to forever 21 w|stephanie not to shop but to comment on the way the store looks, atlanta, being held by him while watching movies on his mac, my cousin david, visiting my dad's house- I want to see the new place, twitter being up (lol)

things I want: house seasons 5 and 6, a fancy dinner with my family for my 21st birthday, to be the fantastic matriarch of my own family, to teach and build schools, old movie posters (the philadelphia story and it happened one night to name a couple), to have enough money to be able to give as much as my heart wants to, to design my own jewlry and maybe even clothes- not a line but literally my own just for me, snow on my birthday and/or christmas for the rest of my life, to take up sax (again) in grad school- and ancient greek, to have cool pictures taken of me

things I know: I want my house to smell like incense and organic oils and soaps, I love him, I will make a great professor one day and an even better mother, I realllly like atlanta, there is a God, love is real, I am loved, I've left out plenty, it would be really cool to have one wall in the house on which everybody could just create whenever they got the urge, I like me

03 November 2010

What Women Want

I guess the following is in response to this neverending conversation about Black women who will never marry cus 1)[Black] men aren't good enough 2)Black women are too picky

What Women Want
I want to love
and be loved in return
I want to be in love
and without shame

Be he Black or be he blue
I want to love
Be he lawyer, teacher, or starving ar-teest
I want to love
Be he rich or need he more
I want to love
Protestant or searching like me
I want to love

I like to dance
I'd like someone to dance with
I want to love
I like to think
Philosophize on the big and small and whether you can even qualify such things
I'd like someone to share my thoughts with
I want to love

A list of requirements will do nothing for my heart
A man who's discription reads well in an email to ma and pops may or may not move my spirit each sight of him
I want to love

I envy the women who are so certain of he for whom they are searching
How relieving it must be to be able to look at a man [or his credentials] and know right away he is not the one for you
What time that must save!

If only I could pinpoint each factor needed to create a|new love
Alas, I cannot
All I know is that I want to love

don't misunderstand me I don't think there is anything wrong with having standards. and I'm not saying this simply wanting to love is the right way to go about it for everyone. I just think lists can be dangerous..esp as they grow. of course I reach this conclusion through the lens of my own paradigm. I used to be an over-planner. I knew how things should go very well in advance. others called me a perfectionist (some still do). but plans can fall through. especially plans that have no real base. or one that is based on too many "ifs". so I changed up my way of life. while I still think of the future I try not to determine it before it gets here, rather I prepare for it as it approaches. what's at the core of my desire to be a future wife and mother, then: love. height, skin tone, and musical preferences cannot possibly deter me from falling in love with someone let alone cause me to deny that love as an act of stubborness.

I digress.

27 October 2010

weep for me

inspired by sam cooke's rendition of willow weep for me

rain cloud weep for me
release your waters upon the trees
who'll catch my sadness, send my sorrow through the breeze
it's not everyday I hit my knees and plead
but if you'll make this exception, cater to this one need
I'll leave

willow weep for me
(your branches reach the river more naturally)
while you're down there release my pain
just this once; I won't ask again
but each tear I've cried has taken a piece
and if I grant any more energy toward the emission of tears it will be the death of me
so grant me this favor to save my sanity

river weep for me
the tears will blend simply
with your waters
I'll never ask again for you to pay for my sins
but if you will just this time I can refuel my mind for the next offense


12 October 2010

(unfinished thoughts thrown together to form an unfinished work. read it anyway.)

my face burning with tears that would leave stains for years to come
you're amazing but all the good in the world can't undo the wrong you've done
looking past it only means I'm ignoring what my peripheral vision sees quite clearly
rubbing my temples and rolling my head cus I can't even hear the real me
I know she's speaking but I don't know which voice is her's
the one that's saying leave or the one that says you live and you learn
the one that says to push through for love or the one that says love doesn't look like this
and I can't help feeling like I shot and I missed
the ball spun round the rim a good seven times
thought that was a sign
of surefire victory
began to celebrate having won til you came and tipped the ball off rim straight tripped on me
and this whole time I thought we were on the same team.
one for all and all for we.
but as it turns out is was more like all for he.

is it a crime that I still want you? hell yeah! if it's not it should be. no one should be allowed to give so much, be so much, love SO much and keep comin up short. I've lost my own vision because of a man. thought he gave my voice volume now I see he mutes it instead. curse my inner thirst for this 'He' that I must now realize doens't really exist. death to the lover in me.
the saddest part of it all is that I can't let go. almost tempted to ask why me but I know better. these things wouldn't happen if I just used my own good judegment. but I've ignored it so long I don't even know what it sounds like anymore.
I can't write any more right now.

22 September 2010

subject matter

looking back on my work I've realized that I tend to write about the same things: men, love, relationships.
at first I questioned this, then I realized that I've actually written about the fact that it's such a central part of me. ha.

so I thought about thinking about writing something "more profound". something "deep".
but that's not me.
it's not that there's no depth to who I be
it's just that I don't define it the same as does he
or qualify it only by world calamities
(which are also important but dont necessarily speak to me
when I sit down to write)
although I'm disgusted by the strife
caused by misdirected lives
currupted by tyrannical democrats poorly disguised as knights
in shining armour.
when what others really need is for their hearts and culture to be safe guarded..

I don't know it's just not what pours from my fingertips when I type. I think it's because when I write it's after an epiphany. Some very personal self-refletion that comes about after having lived a little. And it's not news that this world's full of bullshenanigans. I wouldn't be offering myself or anyone else anything by making it rhyme. Maybe once I find the solution I'll write about it. Or maybe I do just have a one-track mind. *grimmaces*. Nonetheless,

rather than try to be like other poets and
mimick their flow and
put on a show
I just follow my own and speak what I know

and that's not to discredit the poets of this kind. I'm often impressed by their verbose vocab and cultural awareness. I'm just not there yet: I have so much to learn and read about just how messed up things are before I can offer an opinion that goes beyond saying this world is whack and instead says why and how to change it.

that make sense? hope so.

til next time.

13 August 2010


I want to write you something. Something that will take your breath away. I want to string together the perfect amount of the perfect words so perfectly that when you read them if you didn't feel about me the same way I felt about you, you would then.

I want to sing for you. A song unlike any other. A song whose words only you could appreciate, sung in a language only we can understand. Our own Love song, unmatched. So beautiful that it resonates within your spirit and keeps you.

I want to dance with you. From the moment I return home until you beg me to leave you alone which you won't cus you want to dance with me too. Endlessly. Exotically. Excitedly. Earnestly.

I want to build with you. Home. Love. Our own traditions and additions to the blindly accepted regimens of life. I want to build something so grand, so marvelous, that to cross our path alone would endow passers-by with a bit of excellence of their own.

I want joy with you. I want to plot and ploy with you. I want to want you even when I'm annoyed with you and have 3 or 4 boys with you.

And I don't want to ask myself any more questions about it.

I want you. And I want you to have me. Come. Take what's yours.


she's leaving today. and she wonders what she means as she writes those words.
how much of her is going? how much of her will be here when she gets back.
only time will tell.

On the humanities

An excerpt from an essay entitled: Learning How to Learn. (Honors Law Substantive Quarter Paper: The essence, relevance, and importance of the humanities) 14 April 2008.

It was Plato who asserted that, "if [one] cannot retain what he learns, his forgetfulness will leave no room in his head for knowledge" (Rosen). And that is the most prominent result of the Humanities method of teaching: knowledge- knowledge true and unforgotten, knowledge of how to think and not just what to think. It has become the heartfelt conviction of the Humanities to equip its students with the tools necessary to succeed professionally, and, considering that we never stop learning, knowledge of how to be an effective learner is essential in any professional's life.

It was an academic environment such as this that increased my passion for learning when I thought it was impossible. I discontinued reading words and began to understand thoughts. I discontinued memorizing facts and began to form opinions. I discontinued doing the work and began doing what I needed to fully understand the material. No longer did I allow questions to go unanswered. No more was I satisfied with only receiving the grade.


With classes such as these- classes that promote academic excellence over easy-to-come-by passing grades- learning is no longer a process; it becomes an experience. In an Humanities classroom no answers are easy to come by, yet none are "right". Humanities eliminates indifference from the learners vocabulary and replaces it with scholarship: scholarship in antecedence of knowledge, scholarship in antecedence of understanding, and scholarship in antecedence of success.

06 August 2010

alone downtown

me, as zach <3


no camera
so I take pictures with my words instead
it's ok
they hold the memory longest

wondering and wandering
but unready to meet the found

a biker
I wonder where he's going
I wonder where he's been

a bird in the distance
finds second home in a building's broken barricade

the simple things
nourish me
as I (choose not to) await the complexities of tomorrow
I will be here when they are ready for me

02 August 2010

monster in the mirror

this plague, my spiritual leprosy
eating at the very essence of me
causing me to ignore the other facets of me
as this disease starts to define the very presence of me
so I stay up at night trying to fight off this devilish need
to be wanted and comply, pre-hear wishes and take heed
I no longer can allow this desire to consume me
but somehow am still attracted to the beauty of he
I question how, knowing, I still revisit that place
in the comfort of my room I seek understanding
the answer arrives and I see her face
betrayed by the monster in the mirror

so here's my dilemma:
I need to be single. It's good for me right now. It's best for me right now. BUT I also need to be needed. Nonono wanted. I need someone to cater to and care for and console and caress and all that. I don't really. But I want it. I don't even want it. But I crave it. I thrive in that role. I'm quite good at it, actually. And when I'm not in a committed relationship, I still somehow manage to find someone to give to in an eerily similar fashion while trying to convince myself that I'm living the single life and it's grand.
"The best of both worlds," I say. When in reality it's the worst of them. The stress of doing the right thing (or more than enough) for someone without the commitment. The inevitable overflow of emotions without the commitment. The deliciousness of physical connection without the commitment.. hmm.. don't quote me on that last one.
Anyhoo. No matter what I did (committed relationship or otherwise), I always ended up there. And stayed. Almost always wayyy past due. I now know my problem at least: I am drawn to the role of significant other. This is not all bad, of course, for those skills will come in handy when my time as wife and mother arrives. But, in the mean time and in between time I'm exerting a lot of energy in the wronnnnng direction.
So, problem noted, what is my solution? Having avoided answering this question since the discovery of my problem over a week ago, I have decided to seek help.
That sounded (un)necessarily desperate. But notice I didn't hit backspace.


29 July 2010

Au Revoir

[ironically enough, I can't end it right now..]

You were always there when I needed
If not in person, then in spirit

A simple phone call and I can’t hold back
Tears here and now brought on by smiles of the past
An “I miss you” loaded with unspoken “remember whens”
And I almost reconsider if we really need to end
Or if either of us can truly handle our just being friends

Wanting what's best for you but needing the best for me
I wonder if they’re different or if I just want you to need me

And though it’s the only way we’ll survive
For one reason or another
I don’t know how to say goodbye

As the words come to mind as the solution to this lie we call our life
I accept the reality but try to push it aside
Once they reach my lips I begin to agonize inside
Afraid I can't convince you as the tears flow from my eyes
That if it were a matter of the heart solely you may forever be mine
But because the head and heart must align
and don't
These were the words it was destined
I spoke
Wanting to return to life pre-lesson learned, I won't
Cus despite current confliction it will only increase our hurt

15 July 2010


if I could talk to little me
reveal life's secrets honestly
unravel falsehoods before they were formed
to bandage her uncut sores and shield her from unrained storms
I wouldn't

if I could speak to baby chai
undo the hurt of unteared cries
withhold the clouds so all her skies were clear with answers to her whys
and lighten the load of heavy sighs to come
I couldn't

if I were to profess to my own little miss
enlighten her on that and this
impart aged wisdom and provide a gist
of what this thing called life really is
I'd wish I hadn't

if I had to say something to the me before me
I 'd do so reluctantly
but I'll tell you what I'd say
I'd say baby,
it'll all be ok
when life goes unexpected
because even the steps that are misdirected are protected
so don't worry about what's in line
cus you're gonna turn out just fine

then I'd hug and release her
return my spirit beneath her
and let her live her life

14 July 2010


it's natural for me to find myself in you
the commonalities become mirrors rather than coincidence
home, rather than something like it
me, and not some extension thereof

everytime you come around
I find myself in yourself
define myself by your wealth
which is also mine, of course
see those things we see the same
cast aside those we don't cus they're so mundane
(compared to all we share)
compare our worlds
contrast our unalikes until they too aren't such extremes afterall

how closely related they are if I
turn my head and squint like this
close my eyes and reminisce
something resembling someone who's whisper I miss
(hm. no that can't be it)

cus nothing can be missing
if I am with you
and am complete
as I add to your puzzle, fulfill my best feat
made whole
by making you so

doesn't the
missing piece
have a shape of her own?
before finding her place in you?

not that you are me
nor that my meness shows you you
but that the edges of my insides and yours are congruent
which doesn't take away from its meaning
but also doesn't define your or my being

only our own shapes (and not the molds) can do that.
so I guess what I've missed is.. everything.

I talked to my friend Zach last night. During the conversation he gave me the most perfect analogy (which he tends to do). He told me to define myself in ways that didn't include others. I caaaaan't, I told him. I mean I could, I just felt those things that were characteristic of me separate from others were unimportant. Who cares if I'm smart or talented, for example, if I'm not using my gifts to benefit or enlighten the people! As I discussed my tendencies to strive and take pride the most in situations involving an other or group of others, he explained that while it is very important I recognize my relationship to the whole, or 'the puzzle', I must first recognize how I can fit into that puzzle by knowing what I look like/have to offer to the puzzle as an individual piece. Makes perfect sense, right? Yeah. I thought so too.

07 July 2010

take 6

the following turned into something like a written self-mandate, made public to make me further accountable. this way I'll have it to remind me and keep me focused.

so I've been thinking (I do that). and I decided to take a break from men. a watered down version of the "swearing off" of men that I would like to think is a lot less dramatic.

heeeere's a little background:
first boyfriend- age 16, he was 18, only saw him at church. he cheated and lied about it. dumped him. twice.
first "main"- age 17, he was 16 (I always forget that part), newbie from new york, my rebellious period, learned the art of sneaking out from him, he just wanted sex from me. and one of the other girls. I wouldn't give it to him or take his crap anymore so I bounced.
second boyfriend- age 17, he was 20? (don't judge me), military man. first time, first love, first heartbreak. closed me off to just about every other man since.
third boyfriend- age 18, he was 20 (for sure this time), storybook romance, no chemistry. and I had to go to school. bounced
fourth bf- age 18, he was 17. shared a bday and love for football. longest relationship at just days over a year. the one who crept in after I swore I'd take moms advice, start dating, and stop entering serious relationships. ours was always more of a friendship. bounced.

so after him, age 19, I decide to take moms advice, start dating, and stop entering serious relationships. so, instead, I start having sex(stopped after bf #2, which is also when I started)- modestly yet consistently- and get myself my second main.

second main- age 19, he was too. had dreads. nuff said. ha. we kept our physical and platonic relationships separate, quite successfully, for what seemed like a nice chunk of time. then he stopped doing the friend part but kept wanting the sex part and I'd grown fond of and would have preferred the former. toodles.

third main- age 20, he 24. opened me up to be able to actually be all me all the time with a man again. similar to my relationship with main numero dos we had an understanding; we were comfortable going with the flow no labels. until we started feeling things and acting in ways that further cultivated those things and it stopped lining up with our 'must be single' mentality. so we split, if you can call it that.

all the while dealing with male friends who don't really wanna just be friends and crazy stalkery people who plan to be pastors (long story).

so, as you can see, much of my life since I was old enough to date has been heavily consumed with just that. thanks to main 3 I at least know that I can again love like I did once with that second boyfriend of mine- some day. but now I need to learn to love me. me by myself. see, I pride myself on my skills as companion. I'm good at it. and I enjoy it. but as wonderful as this may be for whomever I may decide to enter a relationship with, I need some me things to be equally proud of and happy to do. so I'm going to find and cultivate those things so that I know me. at which point I can then confidently say, love me.

I'm leaving for Paris in 38 days. I'll be there for 126. it'll be at least another 14 after that before I return to Atlanta. which rounds up to about 6 months I'll be away from my home away from home (which will soon become my home at home but that's irrelevant). this provides me with the perfect opportunity to just do me, figuratively speaking. I think it's dumb to try to start a relationship while abroad, and no more sex outside of a relationship, if at all (I'm still tweaking this idea, bare with me), means no men. no dating to get anywhere. no cuddling that leads to canoodling. just me enjoying Paris, busting my booty w|studies and research, and finding myself.

so for the next 6 months, at LEAST, I'll be shooshooing away all one night flings and potential husbands.
pray for me.


28 June 2010

in love with you

My friend Jireh and I co-wrote a lil something for a banquet we're a part of. Inspired by Erykah and Stephen's "In Love With You"


Sometimes when I run my hands through your hair
I forget I'm not swimming through a cloud and I find myself floating away
Then, without trying or meaning to, I reach for
the ground
instead of allowing myself to reach the heights of true lovers' bliss

And increasingly more often, I'll look into your eyes and see
the oceans, lakes, rivers, ponds, pools:
that life giving substance that covers our earth and connects us to each other

And as I stare into the abyss of depth, I see a glimmer:
a thought swimming by. So I ask you What's on your mind, baby?
but you just

you smile
that smile that fills me with warmth
that begs me to say what I cannot say

that smile that says you need me to say
what I am unable to say

I say, I dig you baby, instead of
I need you baby
I need you

he said he's really diggin me
I don't know what to say
as soon as he spoke the words he
quickly turned his heart away
and left mine in just enough time to leave it open but unfilled
but that's when
he took my heart in his hands and kissed it gently
knowing but uneasy he changed the script on me
and in place of unfound words he said this poetry:
"I'm in love with you"
but he won't accept it
and I don't know why
through false professions of love he's been
broken and misused
stretched and abused
left unprotected, exposed, and misdirected
but so have I
all I wanna do is take his heart and protect it
in mine
asked me to let free my past so I left it
took from me all anxiety but ironically kept it
for himself, let it fester inside
I'm not askin for perfection; I just want him to try

And I try
And I try
And I try
And I try
And I try
I try
I try
And I try

She said she need more than a friend
That's all I ever been
But some day you gon overstand

but you've never been
just a friend
and you and I both know you were meant to be
my soldier
so baby come on; I need it desperately

Chaina I need to hear it: you're in love with me
Jireh: I just don't know how to be in love with you
Chaina: But you show that you know you're in love with me incessantly.
Jireh: But if I do more than show it, it might make it real
Chaina: Remember the somethings that you whispered sweetly in my ear that night I cried in your arms and didn't stop; it's already real
Jireh: Remember when I called you so angry I couldn't speak, but you were there and  you cried, I cried, we cried together? I can't do that to you again.
Chaina: You've already led me to your soul, just give me your heart to hold and we can continue on this journey together

tip-toeing on the pool of love trying not to fall in
we both prefer to sit
on the side and dip
our feet in until time permits
us to jump in
Chaina: but then again why wait, when we're both in need of the refreshing cool
Jireh: both burned from past miseries
Chaina: but it's in love that we'll find our needed healing

Alternating: You're in love with me (4x)
Alternating: I'm in love with you (3x)
Together: I'm in love with you

21 June 2010

can't let you go

I want to want to not want you but I can't.
I can see the heartbreak up ahead and it don't look too good
but it feels even worse
rehearsed the words time and time again in my head to tell you goodbye
but I can't let you go
no matter how hard I try
or would try if I cared to
truth is, I'm scared to
caught unawares through the kisses and stares
and knowing glances shared and
even in being unprepared I found joy in figuring it out with you

I don't understand: What did I do?
to deserve to be reintroduced to this feeling so few have known
only to have it threatening to be ripped away from me again?
staying and going, they both hold consequence
and in both circumstances the end is negative
ah but is this feeling not worth it?
I like to tell myself that it is
so I can just keep bein his
got me startin poems in the draft section of my phone on my way back home from his place
and when all but clouds are gone, he is the sun shone on my face
a message ensuring I'm okay
just as my day turns gray
makes me ignore all the ways I've convinced myself not to stay
not because no one else checks on me that way
but because when he does it it's...
maybe cus I want it to be
maybe cus something's actually there
but the fact that I'm even doubting makes me painfully aware
that something's not right
we never used to fight
and while spats can be expected, my heart is unprotected and it's not the small but the major that I've detected and I'm already fed up
until you say somethin about love
then I wonder if you're the one
or if it's just me caring too much
about stuff that shouldn't affect us
but does
and to be honest I don't know if I can do it anymore
I almost want to, but I can't go through it anymore
the door that you built for me to enter just sometimes
me unaware of what's happ'nin in your mind
cus you refuse to let loose and be lucid anymore
and on the opposite end
it's like my heart you can't get to it anymore
and I'm tired of guessing
and agenda pressing
while you assure me my agony is just nit-pickin and stressin
despite your so-called words of assurance
I think I've learned my lesson
before you had time to leave me and teach me the hard way
the power of knowing when to let go

14 June 2010

tout simplement

Où est-ce que vous allez
    quand vous fermez
    vos yeux?
Quand il pleuvrait
    est-ce que c'est
    le même dans votre cœur?
Mon bébé
    j'espère que vous savez
    qu'avec moi il n'y a rien de raison de peur
    pas de raison de peur

    marchez, marchez avec moi
        tout simplement
    je voudrais votre main
        dans le mien
        tout simplement
    vous êtes un roi
    un roi doit avoir du courage

Laissez-moi vous voir
    vous voir
    dans vos mots
Laissez-moi vous écouter
    vous écouter
    dans vos actions
Laissez-moi vous sentir dans m'esprit
Je voudrais vous savoir
Laissez-moi vous savoir
    tout simplement
    tout simplement

marchez, marchez avec moi
    tout simplement
je voudrais votre main
    dans le mien
    tout simplement
vous êtes un lion
un lion doit avoir du courage

Où est-ce que vous allez
    quand vous fermez vos yeux?
Même mieux: pourquoi?
Je voudrais
    que vous laissez
    laissez-moi vous savoir
C'est dans votre amour que vous devriez avoir le plus de foi
    avez la foi

    marchez, marchez avec moi
        tout simplement
    je voudrais votre main
        dans le mien
        tout simplement
    vous êtes un roi
    un roi doit avoir du courage

S'il vous plait
    marchez, marchez avec moi
        tout simplement
    je voudrais votre main
        dans le mien
        tout simplement
    vous êtes un lion
    un lion doit avoir du courage

keep reading for English

09 June 2010

redemption song

living in a land from whence I never came
not knowing the home of my ancestor's name
surrounded by minds trapped, trampled and shackled
but, like my unknown family, never spirits tackled
not my place of origin, but where I reside
not where my spirit, but where my worries lie
here, in the midst of ignorance and hurt
are a people filled with endless, contagious hope
hoping for the future we can nearly taste
hoping all these passions won't prove waste
hoping those with so-called power will give it a taste:
the remedy offered by we to heal this place
hoping for a saving grace of some kind
hoping for a people who choose to free their own minds
hoping that our hoping will become rearranged
into something more than hoping that can create some change
it's here that I am, and here that I'll be
til I'm convinced that here's no longer where I am destined I be
ignoring the implorin that try to test who I be
cus I am called amongst rainclouds to be one seen clearly
tired of just hopin; I want my people to see
we no longer only have
redemption song

Photo: Donald Black, Jr, 'Bound by Hope'

07 June 2010

tell me what ya want (what ya really really want)

I'm becoming increasingly frustrated with this phenomena of men who want what they want until they get it. Specifically, I have trouble understanding how one doesn't know how to handle what they claim is their desire.

Cats say they want the best of both worlds (hey- so did I). Someone you can chill with, bring around the boys, low-maintenance, similar tastes, and [bonus] a lil sum'm sum'm every now and then (and times in between) with no strings attached. Sounds pret-ty ideal right? Especially for college. At least that's how I, and guys I've known, have felt.

Fast forward.

Boy gets Girl. Girl is someone you can chill with, bring around the boys, low-maintenance, similar tastes, and [bonus] someone who'll give you a lil sum'm sum'm every now and then (and times in between) with no strings attached. Boy is so mesmerized by Girl's awesomeness he doesn't know what to do with himself and starts actin all crazy so Girl leaves, wondering if anyone can actually handle her cool.

There seems to be a gap somewhere between Boy finding Girl in all her awesomeness and Boy trippin. Any light you could shed on this would be greatly appreciated.

'preciate it,

03 June 2010


where the weather changes unexpectedly
(be it refreshing or cruel)
there is poetry

the frame more or less remains the same but the insides change
they always, however, mean something to me
he is poetry

tender or cold; a forced connection is made
for me it is love, another unhope
she is poetry

that thing with which you're said to love
the one that daily beats: life won
it houses poetry

that feeling that you cannot grasp
yet still somehow manage to have
it comes from poetry

that thought not yet put into words
exemplified in the wind's rustle through the trees
it leads to poetry

infinate nothingness
minute something
everything that is, isn't, and will be
can be found in poetry

all those without
all that within
begins and ends in poetry

stormy weather

I heard a lady say
somethin bout stormy weather comin her way
once her someone left her

there were times when the storms mimicked my pain
tears uncried released from the sky:
raindrops heart heavy as the lightening striked
and I did he from my life

but that lady
seemed like she sang her sad song forever

I remember a day
sittin outside
on a bench in the rain
light'nin then thunder then light'nin again
thinking of leaving to find shelter and staying instead
so serene
we watched and enjoyed from our seat in the front row

there was a storm before that
I tensed my body as the thunder crashed into our private party pushing us together
fingertips firmly pressed to my back
he was my shelter then

I see where she was coming from
but I've lived a little, and a lot I've learned
thought about it and decided
stormy weather aint so bad after all

31 May 2010

new. and improved?

so I felt funny calling mine a blog when it was really just a website, or very narrow archive of some of my writings. so I had two options:
  1. rename this my 'website' or 'very narrow archive of some of my writings'
  2. make it more like a blog
well really I had three options:
       3.   keep it the same and call it a blog anyway

I chose the second. so now we've got poems and songs and other writings along with my random rantings and insights. may even add some essays. links. and I have a couple colabos in the works, too. so stay tuned and grow with me!



me (@yaRoyalDopeness on twitter) and the homie (@WhoIsMrWizard) decided to have a freestyle comp. via twitter. [yes. we both had that little to do with our lives] this is what unfolded:

Mr. Wizard
famous in my city for my trafficin history
undercover agents working hard to get me
hammer time
u fools can't touch me
i am a entity

Yours Truely
fellas steady questionin the status of my relations.
I tell em I'm not tied down; they quickly become elated.
I tell em not to be becus I am not tryna date em.
then they give me the look that says I emotionally raped em

29 May 2010

For Your Eyes Only

I wish you could hear it. It's jazzy. I like it.

Verse 1
Come and let me tell you how I feel
Tell ya bout this feelin so unreal
I knew one day I'd find anew
A love so true
Enclosed my heart, but babe you broke the seal

And I don't really want nobody else but you (you)
And there's no way to explain what it is you do (to me)
But I know I like it
No way to deny it
I just know that whatever you want I'm willing to-o

My world is opened reluctantly
But it opened up to you easily
This one must be heaven sent
What you see is what you get
Mine is a lifetime guarantee

So come here baby
Tell me what you want from me
Your wish is my command
Let me take you by the hand (just)
Understand that what you see
Is for your eyes only

Verse 2
Fell in and out of love long ago
Wondered if it ever could return to my soul
Relationships came and they went
Words exchanged but emotion unspent
I tried before and doubted now I know

My world is opened reluctantly
But it opened up to you easily
This one must be heaven sent
What you see is what you get
Mine is a lifetime guarantee

So come here baby
Tell me what you want from me
Your wish is my command
Let me take you by the hand (just)
Understand that what you see
Is for your eyes only

So in love with love
Could only hope I'd find the one
Who could reunite me
With the love that I seek
Once I looked no more
I found you, now I'm sure

That I don't really want nobody else but you (you)
And there's no way to explain what it is you do (to me)
But I know I like it
No way to deny it
I just know that whatever you want I'm willing to-o

This one must be heaven sent
What you see is what you get
Your wish is my command
Let me take you by the hand
Understand that what you see
Is for your eyes only

Is for your eyes only

25 May 2010

Be My Angel

When I need a little help
Even when I think I don't
You provide me with your insight
Removing known and un-known hurt

Others offer cliched wisdom
Fortune cookie remedies
But yours are new words chosen
To cater to me and my needs

And that's why
I want you to be my angel

I know
That this life is my own
But this road
Is not to be traveled alone
I need a helpmate
To walk with me to the end
And it is you babe
Who I choose to be that friend

Many friends have come and gone
Many have helped me through my pain
But it is you who seems
to right the wrongs
Caused by life's unyielding game

An angel unmoved by my preference
Here to protect each part of me
A peace whole, pure
And unselfish
This is what your spirit brings

And that's why
I want you to be my angel


And should our time come to an end
I will be okay
I'll know you're there for me
Through anything
Your lasting spirit will remain

That's why
I thank God that you're my angel

You will always be my angel

10 May 2010


I had to let go of your refreshing cool
before my thirst was fully quenched.
I didn't realize how good it was
until the aftertaste hit.
An aftertaste that only makes me want
another gulp (the more I have, the more I want).
A flavor hard to place a finger on, but easy to recall
Which, now that I can't have it, only makes things hard.
The rarity of this drink
means I can only find it (and its breathtaking relief) in one place.
But I'm still thirsty
And you're not here.

What Next?

Having conquered our uncertainties and brought our conflicts to the light,
and having overcome the awkwardness met with not-so-innocent delight,
I begin to wonder where it is our discovery will lead.
And so I list the possibilities as my pen begins to bleed:

What Next?
What next?
Having endured this pleasant trial for the longest of short times,
What is the blessed aftermath of our confliction oh so real?
What next?
Can we drop our current situations to pursue each others hearts?
Must we leave behind the history created while we're apart?
What next?

02 May 2010

falsely accused

my spirit hurts.
because it knows what goes on outside it at its expense.
framed by the body, the spirit pays the price.
guilty by association, the spirit assumes the position given it by its cohorts.
at her core, she is innocent, knowing, and pure.
yet her face holds scars of a life that innocence could never know.
the jury is out; and it cares of nothing but the facts.
(only actions can be interpreted when the words don't match,
and the speechless spirit can't even offer that much.)

her only escape would leave her companions in her position:
isolated and voiceless- a reality she wouldn't wish on anyone.
so, to maintain the happiness of those around her,
she quietly stomachs the crumbs her captors force feed her
until the day for her last meal comes
(or until they realize the Truth in her thoughts,
whichever comes first).

withholding tears serves its purpose those times when the evidence is greater than the verdict,
for they can only heal wounds created by those losses that are not tangible.
but the unleashing of these in particular will give voice to an unjustly silenced prisoner-
an appeal for the release of the falsely accused,
an atonement offered only by the will will speak for her.
but will her message be heard?

only time will tell, but this time can no longer be served behind bars.

22 April 2010

Meme Si (Even If)

Si le soleil ne lève pas
Vous brillez suffisamment
Et quand les eaux ne coulent plus
Vos mots pourraient être ma boisson
Si, par coïncidence, la nourriture disparaîssait
Je me régalerais de votre amour
Et si vous vous éloignez de moi
Je resterai dans votre cœur

Even If
If the Sun does not rise
You shine sufficiently
And when the waters no longer flow
Your words can be my drink
If, for instance, all food disappeared
I would feast on your love
And if you go away from me
I will remain in your heart

15 April 2010


I remember when I met him.
Neither much interested in the other we somhow came close.
Didn't take long to find that he was was the thought to my mind that soon became the spine to my tingle.
Seeing him turned into the treat that satisfied the hunger that belonged to the lonliness I didn't know I had.
Not my better, but my other half. My equal.
When he wants to create, I am his practice canvas.
If I am to smile, he is the laugh behind it:
My sarcasm's wit.

He an entrepreneur and I a vehicle; he starts me up.
If he's King, my body is his kingdom and I willingly let him reign over me.

31 March 2010


we chilled together
smoked together
shared our dreams and hopes together
cheifin til we float together
wrote together
were dope together
and when times got tough together
we'd just sit and cope together
we'd hang tight in any weather
no one better
shared a bed and
if I needed somethin from him, he'd comply down to the letter
made his chedder
then shared his bread
wit his girl
I rocked his world
but it's cool he rocked mine too
funny what a man can do
when all he really wants is you

29 March 2010

Didn't (Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda)

I wanted you to be my all.
Wanted mine to be the name you'd call
When you were lost and all alone.

You coulda been.

I wanted you to rescue me.
One to reveal the mysteries
That you keep hidden in your soul

You shoulda been.

You were my lover and my friend,
And when the story ends,
The one with whom I'd have grown

You woulda been.

If only you had been the man.
That I thought I had.
You coulda, shouda, woulda done that.
But you didn't.

I could have slowed my pace for you,
And been the one whose heart you knew,
If only I had stepped aside-

I coulda tried.

Had I thought about your blues..
Or the past you had been through..
Because I knew you needed time

I shoulda tried.

What I could have tried to do
Was to give a little clue.
And had I known you wanted mine

I woulda tried.

If only I had been the one
To tell you what I want..
I coulda shoulda woulda done that.
But I didn't.

Instead we played our little roles
An' stepped in seperate soles;
Avoidant of eachother when we both had the same goals.
Ignored our blatent passion
Dispite overt attraction.
And while it's too late now I know

If only we had somehow seen
What we could have been
We coulda, shoulda, woulda done that.
But we didn't.

I wish we had.

23 March 2010

master of disguise

so I was stuck and the homie (Jihaaad) hooked me up wiith a dope opening line. this is what I've got so far

You're not alone, but it's hard to tell; because everyone else hides so well.
The constant confusion caused by the spell under which you fell understandably became your wishing well.
Through the yells from his cell, you were the ring to his bell- though he put you through hell, and left you a bitter, brittle shell
of yourself.
You remained.

Ignoring the bed creeks as from your side he crept
You self-consoled until the morning wept
with you
And convinced yourself you knew with whom you slept
and didn't mind

Despite the fact that he returned, unkempt
You 'fought the good fight' and kept your head limp
Denying yourself of time better spent
cus you thought you couldn't find
someone better

20 March 2010


I've got 8-10 pieces 'saved to drafts' with only a line or two in them. the mood is set but the details aren't. And I want sooo badly to find them.

I feel like writing comes naturally to me. I am used to being able to sit with my pen and paper or at my computer and watch as the words flow from me. I don't even know where they come from. My mind? My heart? Are these words even mine? Or are they Someone Else's words for me? I think it may be that last one.. (http://foreverinprogress.blogspot.com/2009/04/ars-poetica.html)

Anyway, there are often times when I'll write down a line or phrase and get stuck. [I awaited your response. And you were right about everything. Funny how that works, cus you never said a word..] Sometimes the idea will be there but the words won't quiiite fit. Other times I'll just get a form or mood for a sentence or piece which I'll have to go back to fufill. [I had so many words waiting on you for when... and now that... I'm speechless]
Then there are those times when the desire to write hits me and all I can do I stare at the words I've already written but need elaboration. That's when you get posts like these. Me writing (aimlessly) because I have to write.

Anyhoo I guess I've filled my quota for the moment. Just got an idea for a new piece..


18 March 2010

By the Way..

*hey readers. this one is a sort of collaboration from me and my girl alex a. (aka miss frizz). some recent activity has led us to an epiphany or two, and those ideas sparked this piece*

It's funny to me that you think you've got me pegged;
But I don't really see the need for you to get inside my head.
I'm not impressed, nor am I phased, by this he said she said.
Why's it matter to anyone but us that we sometimes share a bed?
And why is that an indication that someone ELSE can get me instead?
(It's not.)

It seems as though we're different, you and me:
You claim you just don't care; I act accordingly.

17 March 2010

beautiful lie?

I’m beginning to wonder if any of my male friends actually want to be friends with me. Actually enjoy my company. Actually want to do more than look at me. Or flirt with me. Or touch me. I am beginning to wonder how many of them actually like.. ME.

I’m not trippin off of these random cats. Why would I expect them to be strictly buddy-buddy when they clearly got my number because they were otherwise interested? I won’t even cause a ruckus over these idiots who are somehow under the impression that I “have a lot a niggas on my plate” yet still want a spot of their own. I don’t have to go into how backwards and sick that is- it’s not worth the headache anymore.

But my FRIENDS? Not only do I consider you my close associates- if not friends- but you are undoubtedly connected to the one man I AM messing with. And you know this! And after several reoccurrences I’ve stopped becoming appalled and now go straight to disappointed and frustrated. Not you too!
My girl says I’m crazy for being upset that men find me attractive. “You must be high.”
Nah- I’m hot (pun NOT intended). It has nothing to do with them finding me attractive. I appreciate the compliments. It’s about you trying to be or get more because of that. When multiple men of the same circle try to “go smack” at me it gets old. And I begin to wonder why they keep me around.

Maybe it's just a difference of mindset. Perhaps these guys have a 'fair game' policy in which it's cool for whoever wants to to take a shot. Like some game. I'm just saying I'm not interested in playing.

Part of me wonders who's to blame. Am I sending the wrong signals? Has the main givin the others 'permission' to go for it? Or are these fellas just that bold? But it doesn't really matter.

Just let it be known: I am single &unavailable.

03 March 2010

Maybach Music- Ode to the Mayach

Dearest school bus
Also known as the Maybach
Gone from us forever
Cus Frizz aint know the way to stop
We'll miss the good times
And the way you would zoom through
The strees of Atlanta
This one is for you, boo

I recall the first time I stepped foot in that ride
It was a spur-of-the-moment Thursday- it felt great outside.
The driver's name was Alex and she played the best songs,
With Frizz as the dj you couldn't go wrong
That night started a pattern, that whip was the center of my chi
If you saw Ms Frizz whippin, you'd prolly also see me

I never ever ever never thought we would lose it
And I'll miss listenin to that Maybach music

I can retell many a story of trips to the Suites
To meet wthe homies and climb some tree
I remember February nights parkin across from Spelman
No parking deck pass; it'd be cold as hell man
Even when it was cold, we still hadta walk
But it was cool cus we knew we'd be back in the Maybach

I never ever ever never thought we would lose it
And I'll miss listenin to that Maybach music

Yeah you used to blast the best cuts
You never rode solo, that's why we called it the bus
From constant passengers in the ride, you'd find just about anything
If you were hungry you could even find some pizza to eat
Yeah we used to clown on the whip sometimes,
But in the end we all new it was synonomous to cloud 9

I never ever ever never thought we would lose it
And I'll miss listenin to that Maybach music

I wouldn't ride in just anyone's car
But with you as the vessel, I knew we'd go far
In the 'Bach wthe homegirl was the place to be
Whippin through Atlanta, we owned them streets
Oh Maybach, our school bus, how we will miss thee
None can ever replace you, curse the man who hit thee!

I never ever ever never thought we would lose it
And I'll miss listenin to that Maybach music

24 February 2010

A Real King Knows His Worth

I have the Strength of 1,000 men running through my veins.
I’m clothed in self-assurance, so you never see me strain.
I’m oh so very confident cus my swag is well maintained.
And I live amongst the clouds; best believe I got it made.
But all you see’s my outside, so you regard me with disdain,
And ignore your own claim that to generalize is insane.
You don’t know from whence I came.
You just place me, without shame.
But you weren’t there when my brother played in his first little league game.
Or when my boy got shot just tryna catch the early train.
Or even last semester when moms changed her last name.
You just see another ‘brotha’ tryna get his claim to fame.
What you don’t see is my ability to help you through your pain.
Or the way I can take flight using words as my plane.
Or my tendency to mold mishaps til my misfortune’s rearranged.
But that’s ok.
You don’t know cus I don’t show you.
But you assume that it’s your right
To be able to look at me and see the inner fight.
Or to know my every goodness cus I think you‘re “out of sight”.
And think that one small conversation defines my bark’s bite.
I try to do things right the first time cus there’s no way to rewind it.
So forgive me if I seem rude, but there’s no way to deny it:
The me in me is untouchable; there’s no way to define it.
And just like you should, I know of my good
And the power that is behind it.
I’m not just going to give it to you; you have to find it.
Show my spirit what it means to feel right and continue to remind it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still be kind.
And I’m willing to expose my mind.
All I’m trying to explain is that I want your’s too, if you want mine.
You know what the Bible says about pearls and swine.
I’m just trying to make sure what’s mine is in line.
And I expect the same from you.
It’s about self-love, not being rude.
You’ve heard it been said: “To thine own self be true”
And concentrating on pleasing you would make that very hard to do.
So I walk with an air that suggests I’m a King.
And I talk like I do because I’m a high-esteemed being.
And I act without question -or at least so it seems
Because at the end of the day I must answer to ME.
So rather than tell me what disposition I should uphold
Just try to get to know me; you’ll like what you learn.

13 February 2010


Remove all the day's stresses from your shoulders and place them at my feet.
My day was fine, babe, but I wanna hear you speak.
I can see you need to vent, so baby talk to me
As I finish preparing your favorite meal so that we can eat.
Listening to you retell the day’s troubles in that voice so deep and sweet
I admire your refusal to ever accept defeat.
While we dine I inquire if there’s anything else you need,
And look forward to falling asleep resting on your heartbeat.

“And you?” you ask, “How’d your day go?”
I sigh and whisper, “You don’t even want to know.”
“Tell me anyway,” says my King, “you learned this long ago
“That I am here to bring you peace, so g’on babe -let it flow.”
“It all started this morning when I stubbed my baby toe
“Then continued downhill when I broke the garden hoe
“Went out to get the mail, it started to hail, traffic began to slow, and because of all the madness I missed my favorite show
“Then, while fixing dinner, I dropped the mixing bowl!”
You turn to me, warm and sweet, sayin “Damn, babe -your day blowed”
Always the first to make me laugh
Do anything on your behalf
1 and 1 is 1 with us, babe -you do the math

I suggest moving to the room; you say here’s where you prefer.
You use your kiss to dress my wounds so that I can feel my worth.
And then I do the same for you until everything’s a blur.
You take me higher than the moon, then return me safely back to earth.
The moment’s passed all too soon, my speech becomes a purr:
“If it was something we could do, I would each hour per
Return us to the place we knew, the heavenly place we were.
We may not be able to at noon, but right now it can occur” ;)

You like that idea, or so you must,
Cus you start doing such and such.
A simple touch,
I turn to mush.
Who knew back then a little crush
Would bloom into a love so lush?
We both know it’s much more than lust,
But I can’t ignore that urgent thrust.
You come inside, I feel a rush.
We pause together a moment just,
And then: a hush..
Then resting in your arms, a plus
I fall asleep with thoughts of us.

Doubtless: you’re the one for me.
And I the one with whom you’ll be
For now, and for eternity;
Our unity a reaction knee-jerk.

To one the other the only key,
A better two I’ll never see.
Great separate but better ‘We’;
My God: I love our teamwork.

05 January 2010

What I Know For Sure

A feeling so intense I can only hope the words somehow mirror it, serve as its reflection- the closest you can have to the real thing. If only there was some way you could have the real thing, too. Is there any way to see a reflection without being in the same space as the object being reflected? Perhaps being in the same space is not enough.. On the other hand I'm convinced that in reading these words- seeing the reflection- you will immediately recognize what's being reflected. So you must know. Because you know.

Design by Free WordPress Themes | Bloggerized by Lasantha - Premium Blogger Themes | Hot Sonakshi Sinha, Car Price in India