Tag Archives: respect

What the Fuck Did you Say?

It’s getting old, the spoken exchange, a delivery between the entities of humanity

the use of words, it’s repugnant, abrogating vanity

Bellows of infectious negating  detestable,  personal vulgarities

What the fuck did you say, and  who the fuck are you to vomit your cacophony of lost

on to me as if I am to inhale the sewage you have spit out

 Get the fuck back, watch your fucking words, and your fucking mouth.

It’s no longer, a characteristic of personality labeled as flaw

Or your definition of just being candid, to real, and raw

Honesty is not exclusive to profane, offensive candor, or painful ways

it’s begun to be status quo , this cancer of excusable, I can say what I want to say infection that is spread

Symptoms : Egregious statements, ” You need to understand” , “You pissed me off.”

Truth is I don’t give a flying fuck about how pissed you are, how I need to understand, how it’s your this…

All these redundant, menial, rationing tools to alleviate the weight of the tonality, resonance, and inflection of the words you choose to use

These expressions, content of your emotions

Still does not exonerate you from the abuse

You have implemented to our dynamic,

Constantly, explaining  for the fact that ain’t nobody going to treat you, talk to you, like that

Stand around you  like this

It’s nothing but bullshit

The golden rule, gives the impression of simplicity, but respectively

You stupid muthafuckas most honestly, sadistically

choose to believe that you can say or do what the fuck you want to do

while others must adhere to your rule of tolerant modulation,

However, everyone else in regards to you, needs to watch their fucking  tone

Soon it follows this conversation

about consideration,

of respect you say you demand

Fuck that, what it really sounds like is a command

I understand the world must have rules, but prior to me doing anything,

You as I

Were taught,  to extend a courtesy of politely giving regard to the opportunity of being able to exhibit

free will

I wouldn’t dare not give reverence to God, for he already has provided me with the provisions

of his expectations

Yes the  possibility of failure is great

one of the hardest tasks

given,  he expects me to treat you like I want to be treated

So I am going to stay seated

and while your tone quickly accelerates beyond the octave that allows me my serenity

Seeking to use fewer words meant to diminish your light

A constant fight to hold on to peace



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June 4, 2013 · 12:08 am

Mama’s Baby… Daddy’s Maybe Bayyyybbbeee

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.

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In the Court of Love So New.. I just Met You

New Case, Love.

The facts

The actions of my past can not be rewritten, or edited for a digital  remaster that can be viewed as a memory.

Your tape of us is no more than I can view as it can’t be dictated in commentary of the past as you see it.

My actions can’t be viewed and explained by just the reaction,

the consequence as well as how it was dealt when the impact of feeling was applied and those latent days can nor be denied as if they were not applied to that which was the present and now the future has been met.

Yet the judgement of those mistakes have been tried and documented as the past vs the present and while you get to refer to the judge, who is shown as you.

I am at the mercy of the court for I am still a defendent. Still at the point of guilty for innocence is at your discretion and as much as the woman in me wants to understand and be brave enough to help you to see the vision of forgiveness.

I must not lead any witness as I stand in arguments for myself, this court has NO true litigators.

Yet as the prosecuting side of this love’s judge and jury, I find that we have not prayed, and not fell to our knees in a humbling stance of understanding not just to God.

No we must humble ourselves to the eyes of the one that we allowed ourselves to be naked to, seeing flaws and imperfections with trust.

The pedestal in which I occupied at the days of beginning tells me that the judge is present here for the humanity of us, for this was just a speculation of love that is just infatuation.

The difference in me from the last, means not that I am AlSO not a victim to a past, for it was how at first I looked at you, with eyes of settling out for just good.

These hearts not vastly different from a gang bangers hood, violating the rules of the land outside the vision accepted,

understanding less than objective,

fear leveled at high but disguised as defense

, when bravery is the journey outside of what can not be pre-determined or trusted,

trust is an earned income from the fiends of emotional connectivity.

We are inside the doors of comfort and reliable distance of pain resistance.

Can’t live in this small area of love for sure to not go sour,

the days to short and in the present pass like hours, sometimes even minutes.

Must be willing to be a warrior for the enchanted the passionate the unseen, and exceptional,

my infraction not intentional.

Yet the severity is not at the level of a felony, it was an old melody that caused me to react in a way of the not in total sincere,

I still some days operate in fear,

the devil has done his bidding and succeeding in his quest, allowed the expectation to create a test,

that could not be passed without the luxury of time and time spent,

so it would appear as if the woman you met, has taken a quick left and abandoned the connection,

yet if under greater inspection…

you take the time to look…

the things you loved, the way I cook, the way I speak, the loyalty and attention to detail, are things of me you with open eyes so easy see,

is still the woman who shared the good not yet time for the bad.

It does not negate the times had and the bond created, the one we share,

yet the expectation you held that after so little time I allude is just not fair.

We might have been a great pair, yet the gamble was a short sale bet and the odds fair out of reach..

so we must label this a lesson to teach, instead of a breach to the truth shared

, or the last of whom you compared.

If we have the faith to forgive and the love to embrace,

so many times love we would not chase.

It is not my place or in my character to beg, my ego is full of pride, and if I had the courage to confide,

then you…

why did not have the strength to understand, or the self control to demand something of me in which I must demand of myself.

I appreciate the passion in which you believe.

Yet I meant not to deceive the impression made of me on your heart.

Yet in the willingness of this court to impart this judgement of me,

the heart can not be judged at the court of humanity, it would be insanity, to prove the intention of my action.

No witness could explain the drive, the desire, the fire, the control.

I require an impartial judge and the only one in court today is you.

You as the prosecution and the judge as well as the jury,

leaves me at a no end, no win, no true trial that would be fair, no one with objective ears to not just listen, yet hear.

our heart is not yet committed to truly read over the evidence submitted,

no glove to fit and acquit.

No DNA to test and match, no extension to be granted.

So instead I must declare this a mistrial.


Filed under The Me Files, Written Emotion