Why Must You Alter???

Gotta shape up or ship out, right?
Adapt to the times, fix yourself, or be gone.
…it’s not an overnight thing
You don’t wake up the next day all shaped up
…It takes time
But most importantly
Dedication.

You can spend all night staring at a math problem,
but if you put any effort towards it,
nothing’ll get done.

…You have to want to do something, yourself
before you can do it for anyone else.
You and your God are the most important beings in your life
If you don’t please them
You’re not pleasing anything.

…The teenage years of changing yourself
for the man
for the girl
for whomever you’re trying to please
is set for teenage years
to teach you how not to conduct yourself.
…If a peer hints at a fault
and you acknowledge it, as well
that creates more incentive to better your fault
not the sole reasoning for this fixing, get me???

…It’s not about the man
it’s about The Man
and the person who just said “The Man”
which is You.
…Don’t make someone else your reasoning for change
make YOU your reasoning for change
’cause the only two to witness your Final Judgement is
The Man
and the man He’ll speak to.

In and Out of Time

By: Dr. Maya Angelou
(Recited in the film “Madea’s Family Reunion”)

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance…
our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids…
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there….
Mmmm…God how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens….loudly screamed….
Trying to change our nightmares to dreams…
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out
of time…

Black Trash Bags

I was 10…
…10 years old…
…when you walked out that door.
You said, “This is for the best and God Bless.”
…My Mother and I sat on the couch
And watched Jay Leno tell some stupid joke
As you gathered your things
And left.
…I crawled closer to my Mother…
…and I didn’t sob,
I didn’t cry,
I didn’t scream…
…I was just confused.

…I came home from school one day
And saw what it seemed like
Dozens of black trash bags
Filled with your things.
…I ripped them open
And tried to put your items back.
“I don’t understand, Mom;
I don’t get it.
Why is Daddy’s stuff tucked away?”
…She said…
…”He wants to be somewhere else,
So I’m letting him be.”

…I ran to my Great-Grandmother’s house.
I screamed and told her my Mom was ludicrous,
But she couldn’t respond….
…She was very ill and had to deal with her own issues.
…I crawled into her nursing bed
And just laid on her chest;
…Her heartbeat was the ONLY thing
That kept me sound.
…The beat put me to sleep…
…and I dreamt of the days
When they didn’t hate each other.
…My Great-Grandfather
Walked into the room
And said,
“She’s been looking all over for you, Pammie.
Head home, child.
I need to be with my wife now.”

…I came back home
To see my Mother
Throwing hard objects at my Father
And my Father striking back
And my Brother walking upstairs…
…ignoring it all….
“Stop, yall, stop!”
I screamed and screamed and SCREAMED
And couldn’t feel
My neighbor dragging me out the house.

…The following day,
As I came home from school,
I heard my mother
SHOUTING,
“You got that bitch on my phone!
Get the hell out!”
…My Mother lurched toward him
And I ran out the house.

…I just ran and ran…
…and it seemed like
Chester’s streets were too little
And not big enough
For me to run
‘Til my legs got tired.
…I ran around the whole city…
…just trying to fill the time,
So I wouldn’t have to see them argue.
…I finally ended on 10th Street,
Dropped to my knees,
And sobbed,
Uncontrollably;
…Tears of confusion
Streamed down my face
And onto the ground.
…I could feel my stomach grumbling
And hated the fact
That I had to return to
THAT HOUSE
To satisfy this STUPID thing called hunger.

…I made my way back,
To walk in and see the black trash bags
Scattered across the floor,
AGAIN!
…I removed a picture from one
And spotted one of Daddy, my Brother, and I holding each other….
…I screamed…
…Really…loudly…
And tore it into pieces.
…I turned,
To see my Father walking into the room.
I brushed pass him,
Ran into my room,
And slammed the door.
…Just the sight of him
Made me wanna cry
…and pretending that I never saw him
Made me feel better….
…It seemed like sleeping
Was my only haven
Through all of that chaos.

I was waken, hours later,
To the hurling of those
Big…
Black…
Ugly…
Trash bags
Down our steps.
…I walked downstairs
And sat on the couch
Next to my Mother.
…As he moved
HIS things
Into the car,
…I could feel
The confusion…
…And anger…
…And hatred…
I had inside.

…Why’d you leave,
Huh?!
What’s the matter?!
Were we not good enough?!
Was I not a good enough child for you?!
Did my Mother not do all you wanted?
Was she not pretty enough?!
Did we stink?!
Did we look ugly?!
Were my Brother and I too much of nerds for you?!
Did my Mother not please you the way you wanted?!
Was your ass too horny to wait ‘til you got home from work?!
And why…
Why…
Did you renew your vows
And let your family look like fools in the Chapel
And lie in front of God,
If you didn’t want what the fuck we were there for?!
Why Dad, why?!
Please make me understand
Because I still don’t get it
And this shit happened
Almost 9 years ago.
Why…
You asshole?!
WHY?!….

…I sat on that couch and tried to find a reason…
…But I still don’t have one.
You left us because you were impatient
And that…
…I CANNOT…
Forgive you for.
…I love you…
But grow the HELL UP!

Spill My Soul

I’ve been beaten and bruised
By a man’s angry heart.
I’ve been pushed and slapped…
Stomped on and spit on…
By words one’s heart should not tolerate.
I’ve been kicked and I screamed,
I’ve been punched and I hollered,
But no one seems to hear me.
I can’t tell my mom ‘cause she’ll give me,
“Well…when I was your age, honey….”
I can’t tell the girls, either, ‘cause they’ll give me,
“I told you he was crazy. Girl, you should’ve….”
There’s no one out there that’ll hear my cry,
Soothe the pain and wipe the tears away
Without feeding me bullshit and saying,
“You’ll get over it in time.”
…The time’s not right now
And I need someone who’ll let me vent
Before I lose my SANITY!
….but I met someone,
A BOY someone,
Who claims that,
“I’m not like the rest.”

I hide my pain…
…because who wants their first impression to consist of
Past troubles and dumb romances?
The dates are good, however, and the personality’s nice,
But I’m not ready to spill my soul just yet.

Songs play on the radio of,
“…how he did me wrong”
And movies showcase the life after a break-up.
It gets to a point where
My soul can no longer endure its 5 years of hurt.

We stop at a parking lot
And I begin spill my soul…
…all the abuse I’ve endured…
…all the stress I’ve accumulated…
…all the tears I’ve let dry…
…and it felt sooo good.
I’m confused about why he listens attentively, though…
…And holds my hand,
And kisses my cheek,
And snuffles his nose…
…along with mine.
I shed my tears
And wipe his away…
WHAT?!
“Why are you crying,” I say,
“What’s the matter?”
His astounding response is,
“You’re hurting and I can’t stand to see you like this.”

Then…
It hit me:
He feels my pain…
He sheds my tears…
He cries my sorrow…
And why?
Because we SHARE the same torn heart
And hope to heal quickly…
…TOGETHER!

I look into those bright brown eyes
And feel his soul…
…the eternal of someone the same as I.
I think we realize this at the same moment;
We shed the same tears
And reach for another’s lips.

His warmth makes me feel welcome…
…and I realize that this is what I should’ve felt
Those five years ago.
I kiss him for hours on end,
Not wanting to let go the part of my soul
I’ve been missing for years.

Ring on It? Really?

My Promise Ring

Beyonce has made it worldly famous that “…if you liked it, then you should’ve put a ring on it.” …Yes, how cocky of her, but besides the work it takes to get the ring, what about the girls that receive the intermediate step towards the engagement ring? …Ya know, the Promise Ring, that every “good” girlfriend wishes she had. 

I can tell you by experience that it takes something good and strong to get a Promise Ring, but NOTE that this Promise Ring can mean many things. I, for one, was told that I “…finally got the picture” and put an end to all the BS I was causing. My ring means that “I love you” and that “I’m [my boyfriend] not going anywhere.” It doesn’t necessarily mean engagement, it simply means that we “got something good.”

Nonetheless, I was correct in my analysis of what the ring meant, but ladies…if you receive a Promise Ring, don’t assume its meaning; ask, if you aren’t sure. This could lead to many problems, later. …Also, don’t conclude that since you got the ring, that you can act like a fool ’cause he sees a future in you. That future could slip away pretty quickly if he loses that image of who you were BEFORE the ring was given to you.

…But enough of my opinion; let’s here your’s. Do you have a Promise Ring? What do you think it means? Do you believe in Promise Rings, at all? …Don’t be afraid to share via comment and/or Twitter (Username: @iSHiNE11), and I will post the answers in a later post.

Did he put a “Ring” on it, or is it just fashion jewelry??

You’re Just a Boy….

You’re not even my man…
…but I regarded you as such
A man with dignity,
respect,
And someone I thought highly of.

You were the sole of my shoe…
…supporting it all
through the downpours
And the snow
You never left sight of your call.

Then, you up and left
and “surprise” wasn’t the word
…How you used to be the sole
and now
you’re just another brand.

Where did we go astray?
How’d you lose your way?
I thought ‘best friends’ was enough
but you swore I didn’t know your name.

I thought looks couldn’t kill,
but mine killed what we had…
a strong friendship for 2 years
and my face destroyed the bond we had;
I’m sorry for being cute…
being the vulnerable girl you’ve wanted…
but I’m in love with someone else
and I can’t help you with needs today…
…nor ever.

I wish you didn’t feel like this…
I wish we’d never dated…
but I’d had never met you
or made the the friendship that we used to have;
I wish there were no former feelings…
I wish you were a n*gga off the street…
then, I wouldn’t feel so bad
…being “friends” wouldn’t hurt you so bad.

I don’t know what I did…
make you regard me as **Her**
But the **Her** is someone else
…I want to meet **Her** but not be.

…I..just…I can’t change what happened
but I can pray for what comes.
I hope God helps you along the way;
Recover well and I will help the hurt .

…God, I miss my friend 😦

Love at 6

What in the hell was that…
…that just ran across my stomach?”
…A quick shift of the eyes, reveals it’s only Jae,
moving for the one-millionth time, in his sleep.
He has his hands wrapped around my stomach,
like a bar clutching me
into my roller coaster seat.
“…I’m set. Ready to go. Not gettin’ lose
from this spot.”

I grab his hand and feel his fingers grasp the interlocks
of my right–
a grip soft enough to reveal his sleepiness, but strong enough
to tell me that I’m not going anywhere.

I shift my body around, completely, and stare at
that baby face with a man’s mustache–
…Hah, so young, at heart…
…not an ounce of alcohol or drug in him.
…I look for that soft spot, near his cheek–I swear,
it feels like a pillow; he knows I’m
on the hunt for it, so he just pushes
his face closer, while I press my face in.
I rub my nose against that soft site and wonder,
“Did God put too much fluff in this spot? Did he make this too soft? Did he know
I was ‘gonna find it?”
I press my nose closer in his face, but he disrupts
me, grabbing my jawbone and pulling my face closer to
his lips
(what incredibly clammy hands); he gives
a small peck, but
my eyes open…he’s so beautiful
when he’s passionate; his eyelids gather wrinkles as he
presses his lips upon mine and loosen up as my
lips confirm the kiss.

…He, unfortunately, lays his head on the pillow, but wraps the
bar around my waist–Mmm…feels like
those warm, heat blankets my great-grandmother used to have; my body,
blindly, falls into a trance–an overwhelmingly
good–while the mind falls
into a deep state of sleep–into dreams unreal,
better than the spot
on his face;
Right as Jae and I are relaxing on Bahamian beaches and sipping the sweetest
wine, my face warms with the
breath and gentle kiss of
my divine.
“Babe, you want some breakfast?” I nod my head “yes,” as if I’m too
tired to express coherent sentences. That way, another kiss can
befall the embrace of my face.

…I watch as he walks into the kitchen, pours the
grits from the can. …Funny how those hands that grip
the bottle tend to run across
my body, in the morning–my bar,
my security from ill-intentioned hazards, ill-intentioned people, and ill-intentioned
love that remains unwanted.

Making Streams….

What’s so special ’bout tonight
that you got you all
anxious and ready
to pull my
dick out?
…Nothin
just lay down
on the bed
and watch as
it
enters
…Better yet
close your eyes
and I’ll
hold your waist
as spasm
from the lips
grip
and
glide
…Yea,
I know
bangin
ain’t it?
But tell me
how it is
later
after
creamy shots
slide
out of
you.
…Shake,
moan
cry
plead
’til I ask you to
let go of my
hair
before
it’s pulled out
…Gripped up all
quick
Sweaty face
Dazed expression
Pressed against the
wall
without
thinking
…Sweaty lips
grab hold of my
neck
…Shaky hands
press against my
waist
…Turn to look at
you
…Can’t speak
‘fo you
thrust in;
revolutionaries
barging through
closed gates
of the enemy
‘cept this door
solely opened for
you
…Viva la Vida
we shout
arms tangled
’round another
…Dazed looks
call for more
…Water runs
down the
river
…the heavier the current
the more one wants
…Fall in exhaustion
but
his sweat
dripping down
my face
entices the
…The two
become one
‘fo either
wishes it
…Two streams
become one
…Stir
the streams
with the lips
‘fo slurped
gargled
& swallowed
into existence

I ain’t nasty
You wish
you could do
could have
the shit we’ve
obtained

[[Priceless♥]]

Blue Screen

what you feel
in your stomach
is angst
…wanting to know
whether
that person
you texted
is eager to answer
you
back.
he just might be
busy
he just might be
ignoring you
but what he’s
doing
isn’t
some of your
concern
it’s
all
of your
concern.
start watching the
stupidest shows
or movies
you’ve seen
10 times over;
maybe distraction
by the dumb
will produce a
response from
whom
you
admire.
give anything
for that
screen to turn blue
for that
cell to vibrate
for that
ringtone to sound off.
constant, constant, constant wants
of him to answer his phone
constant, constant, constant desires
of acknowledgment from the main hope.
constant demands of someone else is
enough to drive you
stir-crazy
but it’s not
stir crazy
it’s “love,”
right?
it’s wanting to be
wanted by someone
other than
God
your mother
and yourself

the above is where
so many females
go sooo wrong
…the response of the man
the touch of the man
is more important than
the hang-out you and your mother planned
more important than
handling your business for class
more important than
attending church on Sunday
hoping not to miss a certain from the
“almighty one.”
the man becomes the center of
your center

and if he leaves
you’re left with
what the fuck?!
…i know this from experience
i know every situation is different
but i know i felt like this
i know many other females that have felt like this
i know family members and friends that are declared insane from situations like this
…all for what
so a boy can say hi?
so you can feel special?
…if you and your God
aren’t enough to
inspire thanks
every morning
then you aren’t sure
of who
you are.
re-examine who you were
before men
re-examine who you were
when it was just you
your Grandma
and your Bible
re-examine who you were
before you
needed that cell

you have to love yourself
before you love a man
all the hate in you
will reflect upon the Mister
and although no one’s perfect
how can you grow up…white-pickett fence
without growing up…hole of the soul

lovin yourself is wayyy better
dying for a blue screen

“relax. relate. release.”
find the bitch-ass and conquer

🙂