Tag Archives: memories

To-Get-Her: A Birthday Gift : My Big Sister Shawishi!!!!!

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

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Visions of My Past

The year is moving rapidly, peddling through the days at warped speeds, the past moving so far behind I wonder if moments actually happened or if it’s just my imagination. My memories are becoming weary. Faded pictures lost in the composites of my thoughts. Inspiration lost to the mundane of daily living and I wonder if the pen I use to rely on so much, the pen that fueled my sanity in the middle of chaos is no longer my closest ally and I wonder if I am lost in the right, preferring to wind up my thoughts in the bad. Emotion seems fleeting, and passion gone, lost to just making sure the bills are paid. Making sure work is the priority for each day. Visions of my past haunt me with temptation. Temptation to see the swirling smoke of my old negative choices. I miss my piercing mind numbing intoxicants. Yet they are gone, never to return again and I feel that. Feel that old friend sitting along side my pen and I feel as though parts of me have died. The permanence of death dangles in the aftermath of change. Have traded sunny days for 1500 days of winter cold. Moved from the west to the east. Have traded bad choices for better understandings. The dark side of positive change, is the expectations of stability and maintaining the days you have now built. That bridge from what is to what can be to what was.  The fear of admittance is strong, deliberate and penetrating. Yet it will not still the beauty of what is. The beauty of the change that brings smiles to those around me, those who vowed love for me, and then the naysayers. The ones that linger in those visions of the past I have escaped. They are ones who make it easy to leave behind what is missed. Making those longing moments only short fleeting moments. Faith is strong, and fear can be stronger. Combining the two makes those visions just faded pictures seen only to the thoughts that don’t transpire

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