Summer 2011: The summer of `~*jewels*~`

I raided Afrofest stalls and a new retro jewels store I just stumbled on.

...Pic's 'a comin ;)

Give it here.

"Am sorry. Forgive me"
"What for?"
*long pause*
"Nevermind"


Something about apologies, makes my love come down.

Give it back.
Come again.
Give it back.

Or I just might have to make you sorry, and have to apologize all over again.

Something about apologies makes me want to go to bed.

Give it here.
Make it last.
Say it now.

Or I just might do something crazy, and make you beg me for my mercy.

30/06/2011

ThE inDePENdent WomAN

Independence.

The independent woman.

She pays her bills. All by herself.
Speaks her mind, as she pleases.

She gets going when the going gets tough.

She just always knows how to put it together.

Every man, wants her.
You'll probably find her in a music video, looking fly as ever, making you wish your woman was her... making your lady feel as though she now has an idol...someone to aspire to be.

Independent woman. She'll be there to make your meals, fix the kids up, AND be ready to make the bangest love at sundown, sun-up, and possibly anytime in between.

She'll be flexible enough for all the positions, and to her, you'll be the world.

If ever or when you get down, she'll be your sheet of bounty; your quicker picker upper, cleaning the mess that you happened to be, wiping your tears away, and best yet, not ever, spilling the beans on just how much of a cry baby you can be sometimes.
Hey, she is independent, right? So no need to tell friends about all the little things that goes on between you two.

The poet in me

This past month, has been quite eventful. So much so in fact, that I found myself thinking up words to write on here, on several occassions. However, I have also been so busy, that getting down to writting them, has been almost impossible.

Truth is though, some things are just better left unsaid, and some of the ones that came to mind, I just didnt want to have documented.

So instead, I ignore the feeling that dares me to grab a pen, and I just move on to the next thought instead.

The poet in me, is about to be given a voice. I feel it coming. I feel it coming.

Turquoise is the color of my Heys carry-on luggage

Tuurqoise-blue is the color of my Heys carry-on luggage
You are just about to realize this
Pink is the color of the lipstick I rock on my liberation days

I wear green everyday but days like today
And yesterday, if I had known the kind of punch that'd be thrown, I would've rocked my black jeans and yellow T since I like to sting like a bee

You wouldnt be any close by to help me pick my copper colored nickels off the floor, by any chance, would you?
True-say even if you were, you'd be too tall to bow down

See my toes? Red nail polish like the fire I felt feel felt and likely will continue feeling
The beautiful thing about feelings is that they are subjective, and anyone can make one up out of anything
You need no $ to have a feeling
Chances are, you're likely to feel when you dont have much $

Lets go back to the color of my locks all shades of brown and counting
You are likely to notice the one strand carefully crocheted at the back of my head as I slap on some pink lipstick, leave you my black n yellow T, and storm out the door with my turquoise-blue. Carry-on.

You believe it too

I shut off my TV, logged off those pages, crabbed a bowl, and got some milk in my cereal.
Determined to take no part in the delusion that you are what I should aspire to be as, I shut you off.
You do not have my consent to make me feel like I am a follower of yours.
I simply refuse.
This is no sheep and herder sort of relationship that we keep long distance-ly in our ever-so-one-way lop-sidedly contrived love.

It isnt.

You are no ALLAH, not my Ghandi, you ArE not Jesu Kristi or that six-limbed God the hindus serve. You do not make water, you breathe air but cannot manufacture it. You cannot fly un-aided, you are NO diety.

Yet, people, watch, listen, gaze, and breathe you in. In awe. Starry-aspiration-eyed as if to say that without you, they cannot dream.
You believe it too.
You are wrong.

I packed up my slippers and wont look back as I stomp out the yard. You will not make me feel less than I was when chance, linked us.

I am humbled by the experiences... watching you live so loud. Laughing out loud, and though its aloud, I must say your cry for recognition is sad.

Humility never was your greatest attribute.

Yet, people, watch, listen, and gaze at you. In awe. Starry-aspiration-eyed as if to say that without you, I cannot have joy.
You believe it too.
You are wrong.

Freedom...

...is sexy.

What one flat ass said to the other.

To the folks who are written within this:

This is for..all these females out there who

-have been asked if they really were black because their backsides were too tiny. Way too tidy.
-whose beauties diminished once they grew old enough to realize that a black woman's beauty is always behind her. Yes, you know what am talking about.
-who have ever said to another "at least i have something, your ass is concaved-in" since its a dog diss dog world out there.
- who spends a considerably great mount of time, feeling like she lackswholeness.
-can walk into any given room at any moment and within 5 minutes, tell you the butt size of every single woman in that room. She brings with her into every situation this question of her goodness...of greatness or best yet, her 'good-enough-ness'.
-who obsessively watches her back since she figured, the whole world must be watching it for lack of its presense.
-who feels too stiffled to speak, too shameful to say it yet lives it too vividly to ignore it.
-who knows just what Claudia was feeling.

Who may have contemplated what she did. Silly though it is, it is no suprise.

Who wants to be the forgotten? Who wants to be seen as a defective being?
We'd all like to be made whole.

I'm just saying though... from one "concaved-ass-woman" to another, I totally, totally, feel you.

You(I), are a victim of a deeply superficial time. A victim of nothingness. Of lips with no voices, of eyes without sights. You, are a victim of a time of words that mean nothing. Meaningless. Empty.

You are to feel shame when you cannot be used as a free sex tool to which men, women, and these days, kids too, can go home to jerk off to. You, do not offer the world what they can fuck without even touching you. Sorry but your arms isnt sexual enough to bust a nut to... and apparently, neither is your butt. And well, your brain? Who on earth wants to give that a crack? Who wants to hear what you have to sare? How DaRE you wish to be recognized for your beauty? How DARE you wish to be considered "good" enough when well, you do not symbolize femininity. Thus, you are not their "it" girl.

Lets shift our thoughts for a second; from us, to these people who I'm calling "they". The "none-us"es; THEM.

Them that have been fed this illusion of what makes a woman. Yes, them. Just for a second.

And done.

I guess we all have been "fed" one thing or another. Been... misinformed one way or another.

And back:
To the folks who have NO choice BUT to re-feed themselves the truth, I urge you to re-educate yourselves in what it is what makes you whole. You are whole. You were MADE whole. Lack of a 2-pound weight attched to the back of your hips does not make you less of a feminine being.

You are whole.

Hey, this is getting long... am just saying. From one "flatass" to another, you are still a woman.
Sincerely,

.

Stop time on time in time.

You can hold it, ask it to take a breather, have a sit and have it do nothing.
You can run it, or let it run you and have you trying to catch up to it and maybe if you’re lucky you may even make it.
You can.
Ask time to stop.
It will keep ticking, for everyone else while you go ahead and retrace your steps...
Going back in time isn’t something technology can afford to offer us yet some of us are living the retro travels each minute
Like me.
Maybe you?
Who knows, maybe you too.
Its one thing to let it stop for you... the boredom kills, you start to feel like you’re in some sort of a space mill.
Drugged on dreams, drunk on regrets and anger of knowing that even when you resume, you’ll still be as behind as the length of time you stopped the time.
It cant ever be thesame, but... well, but... the other option was not going to be a breeze.
Today, I feel like I have retraced my steps. Today, I feel like my errors, have been undone. I feel redeemed. Though I still have regrets, instead of regreting where I am, I am regreting not stoping time in time on time. Still, I thank God that my efforts have not been in vain. Thank God for a great family, great friends and an even greater drive. I am stronger than the sum of my parts. Thank God that God isnt spiteful because I truly, dont deserve this. I'm so blessed.

Finally, I am right where I left off.

Lioness Rising.

A snowflake
Spiralling down, falling over its masses while gently, tipping each out of place
As it makes it way down through to the bottom
As that 9 billionth flake it hit weak as it is, joins in
An avalanche, begins
All it ever took was a snowflake and that child downhill never did see it coming.
Unaware of the natural phenomenon of constant change taking place above he
Was busy skiing, who cares about the snow while you’re on it
Who cares about the little things that don’t matter... till they do
Truth is, poco a poco, little snowflakes of chances become big revolutions; avalanches.

A lady
Downright down on herself because the pieces just weren’t connecting
Or so she thinks as she reaches out to whoever would listen
Whispering embarrassing thoughts that had claimed her mind lately
A recognition surfaces
Never did take more than an outreach though almost deterred by fear of seeming insane.
That outreach of a freefall into some strangers’ hands because of some overwhelming thoughts
After sending an email blinding asking for help and some sort of guidance...in the dark,
Now, she has grown to have mad respect for intuitions, chances, and grace

In this century,
As the age of Aquarius concludes itself and we move into the Picerean times
I cannot help but feel nauseous, scared and uncertain
Feeling like the waterwaves have carried me and I am enthralled by the strength of it all
A state of uncertainty
As the world expects one thing and I too, accepts its control of me
I begin to see discrepancies between what I am, what I will and want to be
I begin to realize that my destiny isn’t as monotonous as what I am surrounded by
Slowly, I fall into an ambiguous state of fear for what is to become of this being

Serendipity,
An enlightenment in the form of a feeling that circled my temples
One that resettled my heart to its usual spot in my chest cavity
Finally, it can stop beating as if it wanted to exit this body
My heart is staying
I realize that this isn’t just me. I am not alone and neither will I be
There are other females, my age, and they too, are feeling thesame
As if these times need to be made over because they just don’t fit
Someday, the cookies will crumble just how we choose to orchestrate it...with love, and care

Equality,
A snowflake at age 6 of me saying no to feminine mind slavery; my avalanche had started
If I do not have children, I am sure that that would not make me unworthy of that four letter word
And if I didn’t choose to be a grain of rice in a white man’s plate, I would still be human
I’ll be the full plate of meal.
Tilapia fish and bokoto to boot because you see, in my mother’s land where I am meant to be, we do food like it should be
Nitoriwipe, emi ni omo oloke to mokee gun and climb I shall because I was born to shine
Edi ile ahun ni mi... if I did not walk the path that I choose, I would not be my mother’s daughter
That woman had a drive with a kick worse than these horsepowered rides
Maybe, this avalanche started before me... I truly am my mother’s daughter and she, her’s.


"...
You can call me by my name, I am ready to roll
Once the rules remain thesame, How the story's been told
Call me anytime, never cop out
Lioness is on the rise, dont you ever have doubt..."


Lioness rising,
I’d be unfair not to warn you of this tsuna-me coming
Carrying with me all that weight of guilt, doubt and fear of angering
Yes, it may seem wrong but sometimes we live right too long to realize we really should have left
I am retracing my steps to end up where I am meant to be.
This lion climbs
The Queen said it best so you may go ahead
Call me by myname as I begin to roll
And am not alone in this so climb we shall
You just picture it... a pack of lionesses, roaring on some hill
In our land, where we really, should be
Picture that, and you here that sound in the background?
Thats me singing our theme music roaring...



"...You can call me by my name, I am ready to roll
Once the rules remain thesame, How the story's been told
Call me anytime, never cop out
Lioness is on the rise, dont you ever have doubt..."







9:25am December, 29, 2010 (edited, Januray, 1, 2011 @ 0227h)
Re: convos with Tina Peperempe and Duuni of AZ