Tag Archives: inspiration

Rafael Casal

Rafael Casal… ( the crush I have on His words)


Fell in love with his words

His rhyme

Fell in love with the way his heart seemed to mimic mine

Like my men brown, decadent decent of Africa

With the touch of American Ghetto Swag, Sometime a soildier

But every single time evolutionary legendary brothern of thought

Will win the war to my heart

Until I heard his mind relayed in a poets language

Found out he was a bay area hip hop “Want to Fly” by the wings of Rap

Except his skin didn’t glow the brown I so love as though there are no other shades

The part of my belief that I couldn’t fall in love with personality fades

He is beautiful, open, splendor of words

The part of me that Is my greatest gift

But scares the shit out of everything that is up on that shelf marked worth reaching

Each time I heard something new from him

His beauty swelled inside of my thought

I ought to write him a letter off my admiration

The consideration of being just another fan

Made the option of can

A resident of probably not

It was something about him that I just needed to know

Somehow my being his fan has made me grow

Gave more of my thoughts power

He did it

Why can’t I?

Maybe that’s why now I reach for his audacity to be great

To reach inside and reveal this part of me

I let my heart stand tall

And I think I am ready to risk it all…

Partly because I fell in love with his audacity and his words

The him being Rafael Casal

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February 6, 2014 · 12:32 am

One Tree Hill (the reprise)

Another day is coming to a  close and my heartbeats are in plenty as well as my inspiration. Funny how now One Tree Hill which inspired me so much in the past year has become my therapy, my emotional reprise, my antidote to a bad curse of ill presentation and bad humanity exploits.  I miss my show, and I think I am mourning it longer than ever thought i would. It had become something of an om-age to splendid loving spirit and the powerful act of love and kindness. We take for granted how God can use the most common of things to teach us, to touch us, and I think that One Tree HIll somehow reminds me that somewhere in the land of thought and promise somebody gets it and that I am not the only soul trapped inside of this human body hoping that others see the beauty in being able to live. Our ability to be great, to choose love, to believe in something beyond ourselves is not just a gift but a contract to God. The way we live matters, how we live matters, because we are here to prove that we do appreciate the love that God gives us. It was just a television show some may say, but what it is doesn’t matter because how important it is to me is what makes it great in my eyes. So this is my reprise to another Television season and the lost greatness has suffered from its ending.

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The Original Disney Movies.. The Adult Lesson Plan

if we filled each entertaining moment with a choice of family programming I think we might be better for it. Did you ever notice that the Original Disney Movie, and the Original ABC family movie, teach lessons of love with fortitude. Love is a word that I have known since my earliest days of memories. It dates back in my lifetime periodicals far before I knew anything of dislike, disdain or even understood the magnitude of pain. I don’t remember to much programming or tv from the early formidable years except for Shelly Long, Troop Beverly Hills  Hello Again, Troop Beverly Hills, Splash, and Highway to Heaven which is a very stellar movie, and of course She’s Out of Control. One thing that all these memories locked away in my heart is the overwhelming importance of love, sacrifice and hope. This year I have begun to embrace life with a new zest, a new outlook and definitely a new intent. Love is this amazing thing, and us people, we are equally as extraordinary. Maybe if we spent less time lusting for a greedy life, a greedy existence of desire, and dulling of senses for the sense of physical pleasures we would find our true smile, our true hope hiding behind the most simplicity that life can provide. The answers we seek to our most internal peace are taught to us in the most beautiful of things in our childhood. In friendships, in first love notes. We learn these behaviors of misery, of disdain, and envy. We learn manipulation of spirit of emotion around about school days when we feel the first nudges of distance from other people. For as beautiful as our hearts are as small children, at home we soak up in most days all the love a little person can hope for even when our homes are not exactly as life states it should be. We go off to school and other peoples views of us become an important part of our world, and we want them to love us the same way, we want friends to be so full and fruitful, we want to have allies. Yet the older we grow and the more we understand, the more complicated it becomes. We beat down possibility with out the humbleness of being children. Did you know how much God is those happy family movies. So much it burst from the screen and sometimes the tears that begin in our eyes our tear ducts become waterfalls of understanding and change and we are touched. I might be a little shy to say this but I live for the moments to feel things, to be moved to emotion, to be apart of how love can change a thought, open a closed door to a forgiving heart. Be apart of making your own Original Disney Movie, apply your adult lesson plan to this school of life that never stops teaching. Be hopeful, be peaceful, be brave, be full of life and be full of love. Enjoy life without the greed to be better, the greed to be seen, the greed that keeps you feeding on misery.

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The Arriving Man

As a woman I live in an understanding of my emotional culture. With each documented moment I live binding a library of books of my experiences. Something I find on my journey are moments of interaction with men in my community some of them from homes broken and others from families assembled by time and others in the traditional make up. The black man has been the consequence of negativity and forlorn thought. The black man is an elusive entity of strength and as the community of my peers evolve from young men to men it’s most powerful era I look at the elegance of transistion and the opposition of being a  legacy of decisions that maybe the men before them took. I am a woman and I like other little black girls were left to become women without the presence of a man in the home. Yet as God provides me the gift of  his love he has shown me the new understanding of the black man who has shed the heavy coat of prejudice and the cotton of a too hot life when trying to get  to a moderately comfortable temperature in there atmosphere of being the man on the outside of privilege. These arriving men whom I have named arriving because through the storms of history and disrespect and the lack of support These men truly need they still come through those foggy moments hoping and trying their best. They even arrive to the storms of us loud talking, strong willed, fatherless and fathered mess of understanding women.. Yet as a woman sometimes loving that man who needs so much love is hard but see him as arriving.. Why? Today I hear more men say… I have full custody of my baby… insert son and alot more in my world insert daughter. They breathe for these children, facing the disappointment of being not enough or not having enough in the dank aftermath of heated summers of no lemonade stands and no baseball games on shoulders of that elder likeness and those of us who live amongst the on the streets of father non-applicable to me… cuz I don’t know my daddy we know the pain of being apart of a single parent home and feel the strain of traits not owned by mommy. We are the generation of change and we are changing our outlook and we are fighting loudly with  the access of technology,,,, I am proud of us regardless of these colored skin suits. And I know in the colonies of different hues lives homes broken and children hearts broken by the choices of those who are our key to lifetimes of lifelines that teach us how we think, and live and celebrate life.

SO it’s for the man arriving in your world as well, those colored life coffee, deep and brown those with layered choices with skin so bright and illuminating, those have culture built in this soil, their heritage with their land stolen…  so do not be left out. Yet my fondness for these men made so much like me with deep brown skin, shadowed eyes and hearts of solid beaming gold left hidden with cavities of teflon. My little boys who have taken the stereotypes and made them enterprises, took the grid irons and concrete courts from games to headlines and fame. Those growing boys turned men with need to fight and survive instead of drive and arrive are still beating down the hot block with hearts that want to be home, want to know those kids even when they laid down to be incarcerated by women who still have the learned lesson that men leave… don’t believe, don’t grieve, left to live with pain than to have it eased. SO many days they sit with breaths caught in chest hoping to slang enough, dunk enough, take enough to be the present father and not just the donor who fertilized a egg with his seed.

Yes I want you to be the best man you can be, yet I also see the struggle and desire to aid you in knowing your worth and those small things also mean something. The desire, the attempt, the faith, the hope, the strength and the experience you both show, and provide bleed your love. As women we can nurture those strengths. Your power is in the love you feel, the meal you cook to quell the hunger, the sex you indulge in to show him the importance and need to not just your heart but your body.  The love they so seldom vocalize but will always show in their resounding baritone as they ask where we have been, if the oil has been checked, how they will walk on the outside, and do their best to apply what they have never learned but know in their hearts is right. Just the fight to live will show how much many desire to not be the stagnant typed without the stereo for its never displayed how much it hurts to have to say, not applicable and does not apply when it comes to the language we can’t identify whether it be fatherly or motherly love. This community of strength taught to survive… we need to learn how to thrive, be our own resource of love… Move away from the belief that we must be the dog that dined on the dog of circumstance. Must unite if you want to fight and win.

A generation passed full of daddy’s rolling by home home to collect stones they were made to believed were jewels…NO HOME IS WITHOUT IT”S STRUGGLE… and no parent meant to create and mold life alone. These men are a special breed, descendents of man made Achilles heels, robbed of identity, used as common artillery, bred to do the work of building empires of which they could not call home and while slavery had died on the dark hot tar we call pavement… it has already been paved and if not actively fought will remain submerged in hate.

No this is not about slavery for we are each free.  wanting to make a loud noise in the sake of revolution to be another block of words strung together about being the victim looking on to the inside with too much fear, too much pride and just enough anger to be forced to grow. I am a woman among many women with matching skin id’s and similar history, The women who love these black men, lets us the be their place of  love make his house his home so he leave behind his spot, his crib , make our homes kingdoms. Not with things but with those jewels of love… we call them support, trust, forgiveness, loyalty, kindness, tolerance and self control. Let us use our action of physical love with fortitude and and be the woman who sees his heart and chooses it above all. Yes we women have pains and hurts, yet me make the time whether right or wrong to sing our song, some constant singing his wrongs. Each replay comes with a fine of his worth, and time for he sees your pain and despite what all continue to think… a man in love with a woman in love with him… is not afraid to speak freely when she wears her priceless jewels daily and shows him the ultimate jewel is him.

… why do you think these men stay with you even when love didn’t build that home. Even as your belittle his masculinity instead of just telling him your pain. Why do you think they are not so quick to divulge in (sorry about my language) sharing the true power of his magic wand , his sword you’re so quick to use in a scheme to shut you down.. ONce it’s been offered you no longer hold the cards… he already  has part of your heart. In no way am I taking away  the power of a woman, a black woman who might look something like me…

I know your pain, I know your need… and part of our want is based on that man you desire… so open your eyes and see him arriving and love him gently. Promote his power in your world, Provide a safe place for his emotional vulnerability so he may use it has the secret weapons to slay his enemies and practice love in your words, needs, and actions… Show him that even know love has its flaws and you certainly don’t take lies, abuse, or negativity. Just do it the way love would.

For the world in which he lives and struggles to be seen as a equal… befriend him… he is a man just as you… regardless of the clothes he wears, his choice of song, his difference in opinion. He is like you really the only difference is his flavor. Regardless he is arriving, from shallow graves of mis conception, perception , and infectious outbreaks of humanity and their ignorant thinking.

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Filed under a rant of love, change, desire, Emotion, evolution, motivation, opportunity, pain, Positivity, preception, relationships

The First Day after Inspiration

To be inspired is something that runs beyond  the moment of being inspired but the beauty in  the work or the action. I have heard that the greatest of success is not in the wins, the victories or even in the acclaim or recognition. It’s in the beauty of the power that loving something so much can emanate the type of personal interest in doing that you touch the heart of someone else to move, to try, to risk. The possibility in greatness is a value of love not ability or worthiness for so many great people worthy of award,  of change of second chances lost the game. The game of living is cold, harsh with policy unknown to us. We have gifts, talents, that a lot of us don’t use do to fear, circumstance or even just like of belief in the power of the gift given.
To lose belief in anything is tragic and worthy of streaming tears yet to lose belief in your own gift, your own power is the thing that settles in the belly of your spirit. At the other end to revive belief in  the belly of a gift lives the trust in it, the hope for it and the need for it to breathe to live,to grow and to show your stuff. A little bravado is not ego, and is needed.  The beauty in having that bravado means that you are courageous and have the guts to make a change, to stand outside the normality of conforming and really really finding the fight you need to truly finish the road that you must finish,
All the mediums of creativity in this New World calls for different tribes of warriors to do the work of good, to promote the messages of humanity. In finding the journey to courage we must be open to change, to experience, to failure and to the unexplainable. To be inspired to find true and give true inspiration you must be available for the miracle that it is. To allow the rush of cool to tickle your skin and hear your heart begin a thump of thunder that resounds echos in the tunnels of your ears and you are motivated, rejuvenated, you are emancipated… you feel as tho the shackles that bound you to your fears, to your deprivation of thought; of action; have been shaken loose. Leaving you pink with desire, the fire burning so deep within you it glows touching the very essence of your soul. When the soul illuminates it’s shine will allow light to seep in to those dark places that ricochet that light in to strangers and you know it’s at that moment that greatness has begun. That kind of beauty only comes from the bravery of love. That love that closes doors late into the night hiding kisses wicked with lust, adoration and respect is so very parallel to the love of your belief your goals and your dreams. For to desire to do one thing with your life is a true love affair that does not know wrong doings, or keep account of disappointments and strives on nothing more than hope, and honesty. As I speak of endlessly an artist is a thing of passion a progress of commitment and bears the heavy beauty of exclusivity and monogamy.
I fell in love a long time ago before my first sentence was completed before my heart was broken before I lost my belief in the beauty of bread being healthy. I feel in love with feeling the edges and centers of white college ruled paper and using colored pens with inks they fill the rainbow with thousands of strokes and before words were a reality I just waved it until it began to make a pattern of the vibrations i could not articulate on these rough edged tablets of my thoughts. I knew what it was and how it worked but I had not found the way to do so. Then I was writing and it was the most love I had shown to anything and as  a woman beginning I was ahead of the game yet so sure of my desire to dirty those little white sheets of heaven. As years passed I began the descent of the humanity  of dreams… The human understanding of child like beliefs. That adults do and children dream. My pen became a hobby but the law was the lucky answer opposite doc in primary school and I accumulated to the likes of the group instead of the fire in me. Like most of those in tis world who create they experience and my experience caused me lose belief in the power of individuality and I just wanted to be accepted and it was weird unatural to want to write in the 2nd grade and I traded it for whatever felt best the second time around if dreams really never became more than day dreams. I still see myself in those part time suits litigating for the unprotected and saving souls and lives. It really is a cop out for still being afraid of nobody liking the things I write, of not completing the work that I wanted to finish but believing in myself. Things got better with help of friends reading and then loving it and of course believing the hype is kind of hard when they all love you anyway but there was a nay sayer of me that became a affirmative definite and concrete believer of my words. He was not my friend and definitely didn’t have accolades of me personally yet one night as he laid in the bed next to my roommate with her heart running circles around his aloof relationship behavior I began to rant of their “Situation” and the end of the foggy tunnel that seemed to engulf me he said words that will stick close to my idea of perfection in confirmation left me wondering thinking if talent was not objective or subjective in totality yet a lot perceived emotion. This has nothing to do with what I really want to say what I really want to express. Yet to explain where it began is apart of the power of what I do want to reveal.
…….I have been inspired and moved to believe in the power of that love affair with my words with the emotion behind them. I have always been a words girl, always been about the books the cover o cover the path of turning pages and being impressed and moved by the settings described with description. To be just shown as with film and the way it within the reader becomes a vision of those words. It is an experience and active. Tv is of the different sort, it is a vision of another’s perception and their discovery and vision. No active partnership. Yet with the premiere of Dawson’s Creek I began to see it differently as JOey and Dawson with great emotional scenes and large and beautifully spoken words it took me in and without fail I watched each episode twice premiere night with great enthusiasm both times. I became a Creek addict and with its ending I shed true tears. It was a transition an acknowledgement of a life changing. No other show evoked my loyalty for many years… My best friend had begun to watch a show and she was hooked and telling me about it.  I had seen previews and quick show reminders. Still I didn’t give it chance…. And while I build up to its revealing I will say this before hand. This show has rocked my soul yet my soul had not been awakened not just yet allot of life happened between those beginning days of its run and the present days. For I had begun to watch at the very beginning of a change in me. Yet a woman in transition yet again may not be ready but I watched and enjoyed but never really watched. Yet my slow warming to the inhabitants of Tree Hill, North Carolina was well on the rise in warming my heart. Another alter change for life began and we lost touch me and my new friends. ON returning to life it began its true decision to the very core of me. Then like the moment that ultimately changed my vision my world my heart, it became something else and it was a true place to explore for every single episode that I watch it literally rocked me to tears. The music, the truth, the honest and the reality of life had been given to a place of fire. Not the fire that burns and destroys but the fire that lights and warms. One Tree Hill the little TV Show on the CW had begun a gate of feeling a level of moving minds and should to the understanding of love and love had just met me, just saw me with open eyes and had definitely just begun to embrace me. I had fallen in love and then suddenly that dynamic even in life had allowed me to begin to stop having a fear in so many things. As my lover, my friend began to hold a new mirror clean of my smudged idea of myself to me daily the idea of love for anything once again became a possibility and if you ever had the privilege of watching this show then you can understand. So as in  the way of inspiration I have been inspired. After watching the seasons I had missed I fell madly in love as I had with the man who reminded me that life is a living experience that can give you all that is needed to make you see yourself differently  through eyes of unconditional love. I am working on something that will in my high hopes of myself be something that has moved the heart in away that is eternal…..

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I love….Humanity or Democracy


A fined tooth comb,

surpassing the tangles of bullshit being fed to me

knotting my mind into dreads of dirty, filtered information

a substation of thought, logic

thought to be nothing more than a weaved wonder of false truth

that’s not me, to this government I shout


selling me a prograndic type aversion to the marked “classified”

We the people need to break these barriars we call cultural differeces, and begin to stand unified

Deep beneath the tanned brown of my skin and the creamy white of yours pumps blood that is so very similar

in color, it may be exactly the same

Regardless of last name

each we  are pawns, in this game

we are not living,

just conforming

voting for the next brand “face”

we call a president

hasn’t it not become evident

as we lose our kindness to need

forsake the flowers of love, our seeds

we lose life by hands of each other

no longer a family of humanity

as if we don’t all bleed

from the scars of disdain

as we see the chemtrails

fill our skies

and decide with a quiet tongue to not ask the questions of complete truth

No longer naive to the democracy of idiocracy

Simplicity is but a gift to the imprisioned mind

we are of another kind

we are of the complicated design

or at least “I”

the justice of pain

is covered in temperatures of dialects that continue to arise

here in this land of the free

where the only truth is the lot of wealth that you can display

nothing here is free, just your soul

which for the right amout of fame

many of you well sell

then yell each day in pain as your mark of the devil screams from the angels

not blind to you

what did you do, what was the sacrifice

to no longer struggle for the beauty of these lands

In the night my eyes open wide, bright with out the covering of the lies

without the voice of the conformed entity

Don’t lose your thoughts to the hypnotized, modified version of the current events

no event that is at the for front of your vision is based on the bottom line

shut the fuck up america

pay the fine

give us that last dime

don’t speak

don’t think

you are the mine in the battlefield

yield to the dollar

stop at the cent

the division of love is at the cost of our home in  heaven

count back from ten then stop at seven

and that percent

is not even the amout of truth told with the camera’s tracking movement

not for the safety yet the control of the whole

I fight no man for the resource created by the land

who are the real terroist in the nation of your understanding

holding at gun point the belief of love

so many slain

their shoulders just shrug

when wives fall to the floor buckling in pain

we live in emotional tierney

for this physical democracy where we have the ability to choose

not the laws, not the justice

just the face we call leader, we believe can make change



give the endorser of the money makers endorsement our nation a prettier face

regardless of race

he is not the movement of the bills that go past as you sleep

the underground shelters built

while we prepare for homeland wars

open the doors to your mind

and choose the battle in which you want to fight

for your currency or what is right

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