Alcohol, liquor, spirits, drinking is a truth serum. Suddenly things your mind wouldn’t so free release bubbles at the tips of tongue. Liquid courage I have heard it called it called. The emotions kept at bay stifled behind pain, hidden with words unspoken. As the sips become gulps all burning away that wall to emotions […]
https://nyawritingdefiningduality.wordpress.com/2014/07/20/the-spirits-in-a-bottle/
Filed under Uncategorized
This is one is just going to be a free for all. I just don’t understand it… how family and people in general can be so cruel. When I first found out I had a brain tumor I was pretty much aware of it… something just didn’t seem right. I was telling my toes to move and they wouldn’t move.. I had had a limb for more than three years and I know what your saying that’s a long time.. but I had been homeless I had been a world of turmoil I had been alone, and parts of me just felt like it didn’t matter like it was my penace for all the wrong I had done to myself to those around me. I had moved to a different place I was at peace finally I had made amends with my life… So It didn’t scare me… but when I just got tired of falling… I had gotten tired of the life I was living and I was forced to move back home… Back to good ole Cali… I had no job and God stopped me dead in my tracks and before long I was in a doctors office and I had been told that my gift of discernment and my close quarters with faith and God where in deed true… I had a tumor. I didn;t take it so hard… After all I had a feeling… I told one of my besties and she just didn’t believe me nad told me to hush up… but as I my birthday rolled around.. I knew something was wrong… I told my sister who at the time seemed to be the best friend I could have. Since then she has turned into the puppet master and now all of a sudden people are acting like jerks are little cupcakes you eat for breakfast that give you no muffin tops and you can eat daily without gaining a pound and we know this i not true… the tumor is a glioma malignant but slow growing they say… Thank goodness I am not scared or other eise I would be falling over because these family people are arguing over medical power of whatever… and all I can think about is the fact that I am so tired of something happening,,, I just want to sit down. Once you stop making the bad decisions you hope the decisions that you do make are just better than the last.
Now I spend my days going to CVS like really they know my name like it’s a bar… I go to radiation, I take my medicine.. these are my days… I think aboaut what I am going to where to radiation but they have me on Steroids and they have blown me up to the place of uncomfortable you wouldn’t believe but I still feel alive and happy on most days then my sister my niece my so called family come and they say these things…. I want to blast her out my niece but her business on the web, want to hurt her the way she hurt me and then I realize the life I have lived and where I am now… gives me no way to actually do that… that is not the person I want to be,.. who has a tumor and is a worse person… who goes through the things I have gone through and actually acts like that. Then It makes you start to think about the difference between good people and bad people…..
Filed under a rant of love, Choices
Alcohol, liquor, spirits, drinking is a truth serum. Suddenly things your mind wouldn’t so free release bubbles at the tips of tongue. Liquid courage I have heard it called it called. The emotions kept at bay stifled behind pain, hidden with words unspoken.
As the sips become gulps all burning away that wall to emotions laced in resentment I watch you become another person. It hurts to know what I already did. I close my eyes and I seek God to protect me from the attacks of days gone, of mistakes once again you revisit. My tears become the forgiveness I fight daily to maintain but it hurts… it buries what I want to build. Want to snatch the drink from your hands, want to take your words… dilute them with love blend them with sweet coffee beans add sugar… have them settle into your belly warm you so you can really digest a truth of the present and I have done many things, yet at this point change became my intoxicant, my drink. My hit.
I had to and n i w here I am another day… another drunk tirade of faithless abandon and words that scare me to my core. The truth is cold pushing me to the land of the lepers. A sickness has become the door that opens to find myself the victim of your selflessness. The more glasses you feel the more you vomit these moments that have caused me these crippling experiences…. bring me back to days… I work daily to never repeat. Change is hard. I want to wrap my arms around myself. But I won’t, instead I say in the tone I can best muster, edge it’s ring. Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t deserve that… then a bomb hits my ocean. An massive waves draws sobs from the part f me only God can touch and I met honesty pour from my list. Its not for me… I have o worry. I’m scared but God has me… you, have said,,, it’s all because your sick that changes me helping. That buries me….. I feel the sand block as airways. No way to UN hear a love un requited. A mothers love, the live that shaped me.. tears pour over cheeks and acceptance settles behind now dim eyes. From here where do I go
“We are going to drill a hole” with those words I left behind misconceptions, decided that faith has to be the leading thought. I can’t live in the fear that grips the heart of a person and I won’t. I will be this woman that I have grown to be. As I look back at all the days I have cried. All the days that I have let fear lead me.. I find myself evolved in the face of death and I feel pride. So proud of myself. In these days I have felt so much love and support… this is something that I have prayed for. to be closer to my family. To cultivate the type of relationships that last beyond death. When you have lived the kind of life I have, your course of purpose will be in others minds, tainted, sometime thwarted with mingles of bad choices, or executed decisions that are not in your best interest. So while I have sat here in The world renowned… UCLA Medical Center… family, old friends and doctors… all looking to me for my next play… I don’t have anything to say but bring it on course has been drawn. Fear is not an option, direction, drive and making the best is the hour of power.
I hear the footsteps of your pain, muddy with resentment, discontentment
A heart untouched by kind words,untouched by appreciation for what you give
The rain outside of your windows eternally fall unable to be sheltered from the picture you have painted to the world that fails to provide you the sunshine you need to grow and forgive
I hear them loudly in your tone
In your hurtful words
Your shield from the arms I open to protect you from that downpour
Inhale my love, change your picture
Together we can clean your shoes
Clean away the dirty toils beneath your sole(soul).
Here we can change the forecast of our tomorrow
On our knees we can pray
I will stay within your grasp
Won’t leave you alone
Will set a new tone
In my willingness to be your umbrella in the storm
I feel your core
Feel the beauty you have lost
Just living in that rain
The insurmountable pain
Take my hand
I demand the light to shine within our time
Here we will endure bad, make a path to fine and arrive in the brightness of the sun
Vulnerabilities left with fear
Its time I share with you my faith
Its were my smile arrives
Its wear my pain is released
Its why my shoes are clean
Why the tears always end in a rainbow
Don’t live in the thunder, in that hurricane
Within is how we rebuild
Where we must heal….
Filed under a rant of love, Choices, Emotion, life, pain, preception, relationships, religion, The World
Today we celebrate you
And all the beautiful things you do
How you have become the man you are..
Is evidence that with you God definitely set a new bar!
To say your great just wouldn’t be enough
Your bravery, your loyalty, your intelligence, your character
All are the makings of masculine royalty
Nephew of mine, you just have the stuff…
Most men will never have, you are the man, most boys will never come to be
A protector, even as a small boy you protected me
And 13 years your senior…I am the auntie.
Yet that is you a step above the rest always ahead of your time.
A special blessing, one of a kind
To not see it would mean being blind.
This day the final marker to adulthood
Its really just the beginning so I think you have got it good.
Remember to keep a cool head in adversity
Swim in your uniqueness, it’s what sets the tone in owning your diversity
Never compare yourself to the masses
With a brain like yours your a prime candidate for all the right chances
You will be more than great
You naturally have what it takes
To soar high high above the rest
You already have beat the odds in some of life’s greatest test.
In my heart of discernment
The destiny you own will create an environment of riches
As a black man, the devil will tempt you with the wickedness of hustlers, dope runners, and profiling police ditches
I already know the the road you choose will be the one that enables you to grow
Trust your heart when your mind is unsure
Your spirit on first response will always be your cure
The pride I feel for you is more than I can ever say
On this special day
When you were first born at first glance
We shared a beautiful dance
Our smiles in tandem, even when the miles between us are many
Know I love you with a heart of plenty
My handsome and notorious Snooty!!!
Happy 21st birthday!!!!
Filed under a rant of love, change, destiny, growth, life, love, relationships, Written Emotion
So many years ago beautiful and tiny
Into our world, God blessed us with Rmanii
Now a woman athletic and tall
Beauty, brains, in my eyes you have it all
If I could could to infinity
Maybe I could measure my pride in being your Auntie
It might be sappy, emotional, a little childish
However, this poem is to say
In a small way
with no shameful blemish
I give you this gift of what I love as much as you
These words, my heartfelt truth
As your years mount
Be sure to hold on to your depth of heart
Light your passion with your endless tenacity
Never fear that overwhelming capacity
God has given to you to shine
Be cool headed in adversity
Remember that while your smart
You can never show enough compassion and humilty in being the best
When you feel unsure and life’s test
Look more like unreachable mountain tops
Inhale deeply
Exhale slowly
The course is a road already destined
Take the time teach
When in others you see lessons already learned
These are the moments your true rewards are earned
It’s worth what’s invested
As a mother you get the opportunity to defy gravity
Fly in the uncontainable love you feel
let your own wounds of childhooh heal
Among all the incandescent things that define you
The character you exhibit in what you do
will paint the portrait of what others see
This milestone into adulthood states from today you get to be who YOU want to be
A culmination of core attributes
as well as the lessons that contributes
to the reflection that stares back…
That person that you embrace as “ME”
Beautiful niece of mine…..
My money…
It’s on you
It’s a sure thing, an easy bet
For you are not the underdog
Not the lucky competitor
This is just who you are
A winner pure bred
You defy the odds
You blaze the trail
In you I see all the good from which you derived
Now at 21 you have arrived
Beautiful, grown up and no longer my itty bitty
brave and kicking chairs to defend your own
Now, still brave yet also accomplished
Still our blessing, just not so tiny
Now a full grown Rmanii
Happy 21st Birthday my beautiful niece!!!!!!!!!!
Filed under a rant of love, change
A poem written for my Sister Shawishi Haynes on her birthday 2-20-20114 (I never did forget I just wanted it to be my Shawishi Brand of Perfect. Accept this gift of my best part of me…. Much love and appreaciation.
You may not even remember the day you taught me a way to remember how to spell together….. Well I do.. It is the single most influential three minutes of my childhood.
My gift to you
what better than a piece of the best part of me….
With words I can exceed the mundane…
Words are my rain
They cleanse the mental debris moments
Left dark and turbulent
My air fresh promise ripe to inhale
I ingest each thought
Forgiveness, old pain …. each one, pleasant
Just lesson”s learned
those memories are sunshine and cloud-less skies
So here for you I will let my rain pour heavy and loud in your garden of our history
Bring you into the spring of a life, ripe and new
Days marked by the images grasped by my small and child like hands
Along the long corridors of mind where my childhood dwells I walk a mile
There in many different files resides reflective bound copies of your a smile
Your smile, unique, piercing, extravagant
The perfect singular tribute to you
Your laugh, that laugh lingers,
draws words to it melody, magnetic, hypnotic
Can detect it’s vibration
It can be heard from distant vantage points
It’s a compass, my way to find you
it always finds you youthful,
In a library, college camps, colored paper, your study group
I sit aside my thoughts, “How pretty learning looks when it’s with you
I ask .. “Why is it purple? Your paper? When everyone else has paper white no colorful hue…
A smile appears… It’s for a class.. History Sec 102..
That is how I see that hazy day,.. learning so big and beautiful,
Colorful
You teach me things
I hear those words many times in my walk along our memories
We are in a backseat, the outside surroundings blurred
“I can’t remember” I say
‘Break it down” is your response
“To”I repeat “Get” You say “Her” We say TOGETHER
TO- GET- HER
Simply Beautiful
Every Day from then on, my brain would never let that one word
Scramble or get lost searching
It was filed in front
even today
As I spell together a smile emerges
on how you actually did “Get Me”
Faithful to your power
Loyal to your cacophony of praises
when others want to dismantle your song
All along
You so different from me
Hard to gauge emotionally
Resilient in YOUR ability to set goals and reach them
You, the epitome of what a BIG Sister should BE
A model to emulate
A directive to refer to
The actuality of successful reality
Trembling fingers, a stomach of butterflies
I offer these broad shoulders
a place to rest your Burdens
It’s my speciality
My spiritual quest
The ability to hear the heart murmurs
Allow them the platform to scream, loud and free
without the pungent smell of perception, reception interjection and objection
that rarely embrace or comfort
I offer my rain here, now to cleanse the walls of your heart
erase the faded notes of thoughts unable to be relayed
Remove the residue that stains lips with words unspoken
Left abandoned to let loved ones who have come
vomit their words of pain
Leave the messes of their mistakes at your feet
I know many have left them there in need
I should know.. that’s how I have come to be here.
Now that I have arrived
ALLOW ME to show the tremendous power of extended hand to grasp in need
The power of a mother being what she didn’t quite receive
Allow me to show you, your beauty in the reflection of my rainbow
It shines upon you now as I have let this downpour puddle
here in this heart emotionally able, without any murmurs
Monolithic is a bond between sisters, a club so exclusive
Reaches beyond memories, beyond experiences of now or tomorrow
So if the murmurs create any space in you hollow
I have the room for your downloads
You need to upload those thoughts losts,
Those words unspoken
or maybe somewhere between all you do,
needs left unmet
and being your little sister’s
Every day, extra-ordinary hero
Let’s GET (to-get-her)
share with you my ability to rain my words into the hearts
that touched me
Tell a world about how
in a backseat, a little girl
Unsure and unable to remember, came to be
A woman that gives the gift of words in a box wrapped with
Beginnings…
Happy Birthday dear sister
who didn’t know how together I realized a dream
Of breaking down words I could spell or remember to build them back up to bring us all together
It’s not easy, not easy putting on a brave face, acting as if everything is okay. Feeling lost and unsure of the next moment, the next step. It’snot easy just having faith that everything will work out. On the outside looking in, the perceptions of their stares defeat. Living for each day, and living for there expectations. Caring what other people think, rebuilding bridges to understanding and trust is no easy job. You smile, you nodd, you try… and once again your like a child. Being an adult in transition, rebuilding, with nothing is not easy. You don’t want to show up, because you don’t want to explain. It is not easy being right here in this moment, in this place, with these eyes looking at each move made to see if it will be another mistake, another lit match that will once again end in flames.
It isn’t easy caring what people think, caring about tomorrow, and rebuilding. Oprah can talk to a thousand public figures with big bank accounts about the next moment, the next chapter, and I am not saying it’s easy for them, yet i know the non factor of money makes it a lot more simple to rebuild the bridges. You get moments to exhale, to breath, to not worry about the eyes watching. The expectations of those who have already beared the rath of your ill advised decisions, accidents and plain ole wrong doings, mistakes, whatever you want to call them.
I wonder if they look at the eyes that search for clues of activities when away, the eyes they search for lies as responses, and see the sadness, the tired grind of living up to rebuilding. I wonder if they see how hard it is to believe that things will get better, when your best just isn’t what they hoped it be.
It’s not easy changing. Each moment, Each hour, Each day is a task of believing in yourself, in believing that while they may say they support you, that the thoughts they have deep down are wrong. If only I could close a door, lock it, and just be with me for a moment, to regain belief that it will indeed be okay, that this present is just that, another present that will be survived.
It isn’t easy knowing what really happened. It isn’t easy knowing that the decision to change wasn’t because it was so bad but because you couldn’t act like you didn’t care anymore. It isn’t easy knowing the truth you never tell, the secrets you keep so you can make it to another day.
It isn’t easy to say…. I did what you asked, I did what was right, I did as God told me to, yet I still seem to pay everyday for yesterday. It isn’t easy saying I did pray, I do pray, but I still seem to be here anyway. It isn’t easy hiding the tears, forcing them down so I don’t hear it said again you just need to pull it together, and figure it out. It isn’t easy just sitting and never saying with loud piercing words… Yeah I know I need to get it together, and maybe you don’t like looking at me like this… but think about how it feels to live it.. ashamed, embarrassed, tired and beat down inside.
I do have faith that it will all be okay, but faith doesn’t soothe the burns of rejection, or stop the bleeding of lacerated failure.
Faith is the possibility of a better time tomorrow, if I just get through today. I will fall to my knees and pray… God please forgive me for the sin of my fear that it won’t be okay. Please forgive me for looking around and just wanting to surrender this life. I will do all I can to not wrong my fellow man, but I am not so good at not wronging me. Im starting to see the reflection in their eyes, starting to believe what they see, that’s easier than being me.
I’m tired dear God, so sad, so weak. It isn’t easy changing. Not sure what you want me to learn from this lesson, or where your plan for my life might lead. Will I be the example, the disciple, the mean, or the end? I’m asking dear God for just a small glimpse, just something to give me that last bit of tenacity I need, so I don’t turn back and go to the old. I don’t want to fold. I want to play, dear God just show me the way. It’s all I need to make it look easy once again. Make it easy to smile, to finish this last green mile.
Filed under Uncategorized
So Here it is in the land of what ain’t right, try as we might to not hold the grudge to judge. Not snare a nose up to the others in falter of steps. Yet today I will follow my heed and complete the need to speak freely on the heffa population who make it hard for the true love, respect and loyal to the man in her heart female generation.
I try my best to stand with God and hold my head high and forgive those who bruise my spirit, those who have stolen from my light. Yet today my heart is wounded for another, for my from another mother brother. His heart is breaking and caused a wave and quake to my soul. For a minute I was ready to catch a case. Ready to dock my wholesome change and rearrange my alphabet and teach a lesson old school style. Pulling my hair in to a ponytail, donning the heels and slipping into some running shoes.. Vaseline lining my pecan hue skin. I had a fight on my brain. Her face was wearing my fist and calling it by name. Begging me to release my fury. It wasn’t just for him, but for me as well. So many of us girls are looking for a man who loves us, will hold our hand if we ever have to sit on the edge of mattress love nest, and spill a truth that life grows within, especially if the daddy is not a husband, more just the lover kind. The kind that leave us unsure if his words and his actions will met up in the court of mutual affections. If the man is one
day away from saying goodbye and the period that is suppose to conclude the sentence, and identify that this fate was just a date gone awry.
Many woman have been beaten with the expectations of a man’s desire to do the right thing. So many have lost that war the consequence of single motherhood, aborting the decisions of new life with a knife and others have been unselfish and given those children to other homes, yet many children are left in the arms of social workers who usher them to houses of love unwanted.
So you would see the bitter taste of disdain and disgrace as my phone rings to find my favorite guy friend calling to conform what I unfortunately already knew that his ex girlfriend, ex problem had lied about the new born baby he was told was his was indeed not and like that we are experiencing the in real life Maury show’s… You are not the baby daddy finale show and I could feel my heartbeat quicken as I begged of him to not take on this heart ache this deliberate heart break and lose faith in the us kind, the female kind, the gaping female intrusion interlaced fascination. While I heaved and wanted to penetrate her understanding with slanderous words and murderous verbal slayings he just says, what can I do, and what would hurting her do with words of malice and hate. I thin cried silent tears for my old friend. A young man adult and fine, my best friend… a man who had picked me up on low days with words of support and love, the friend that my old bestie loved more than anything else back in our high school days. IN the midst of the anger and pain I felt, the hue of hate that lingered for this woman, I felt pride and admiration. My best friend had become a man wonder, a super hero, a model type pristine type fella for whom I would take bullets, for whom I would vindicate. My pulse quickens with the thought that some beautiful soul will miss her soul mate because one woman was selfish, unkind, unjust and just plain wrong, so i play him a song of love and a prayer of faith. Don’t leave love at the front door I beg to God for him, because a man like him deserves a woman wonder, a woman better than me, but who loves him with that same intensity who would not allow pain to reach his heart. For love is truly a lost art.
So this is for the mama’s with babies whom daddy is still just a thought of maybe he or maybe him. Be kinder to your body and be kinder to your soul. Most of all remember you just upped the ante, a dealt another card of life to the Poker table and your importance has become less. If you cared a little more for you, and less for what… maybe a nut… you wouldn’t need to be victim or hero, demon or saint. Even if you have to do it alone, make the least desirable of places a home, even when it seems like tho you laid in a bed not by yourself but might have to raise the baby alone, that the baby, the child, that new life that beats is the one that will be casualty of the ware you rage…. So not just to the baby mamas who have lied to a man but the ones where it started off all love like narcotic style vibrations and invitations, ore even the accidental night of heat.. these men who actually do what’s right with all they have, and all their might… be kind to them, be honest and be true… Cuz I am not so forgiving to you… for you are a reflection of women kind and I don’t do mine like that. I want to love a man, be his ride or die chick, and if I am the one that he ends up with, I am snapping the whip and no child be used as a pawn… and you don’t one like me around… because if it’s to see my man… it won’t be, no the only face you will see is mine, and don’t be mad if your child is wondering where I am instead of you. For in truth, here the child is the first place and never a competition, there is no superstition with this… To God I give my truth… and I am not lying I hate this type of shit.
Filed under Uncategorized
The Weapon, The Cure, The Reason 