Thursday, January 31, 2013

I Am Your Woman

I am your woman
And you need to treat me as such.
I don't ask for much,
But now I'm demanding to be respected.
Cut out this foolishness that you do.
All these surreal lies that you tell me
Like my forehead reads "fool"
What business meeting has got you out until 12 at night?
And you continue to tell me the same lie
Even though I call your office and you don't answer.
You should really think of another excuse
Because that one will no longer fly.
Playing basketball with the boys you say?
Then why do you smell of Irish Spring?
What's that on your shirt?
Is that the red mark left by "Ms. Thing?"
And don't think I don't notice the absence of your wedding ring.
I gave you all of me.
Mind, body, and soul.
And all you do is chain me to misery.
But you won't keep doing this to me.
I DO know that.
I'll be damned if I go on your list of defeat.
The sad thing is,
This isn't the first time I've said this.
I feel like a record on repeat.
But you'll know when I get fed up.
Because it'll scare the hell out of the both of us.
When you walk in and your bags are packed waiting by the door,
You'll know that i've had enough.
Then we can go our separate ways.
Only because you betrayed my trust.
We can just lay our broken relationship on the filthy ground
And watch as it rusts.
But for now,
I am your woman.
And i'm tired of you not treating me as such.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

The Exsistence of Me

Trapped between two worlds.
That's what I am.
That's who I'll always be.
Occasionally,
Those two worlds fight a bloody war inside the inner me.
Being the White Man's daughter isn't all it's cracked up to be.
The color of my skin and the texture of my hair tells only a portion of my inner mystery.
Born out of sin.
That's what I am.
The White Man saw the innocent girl.
He saw her because she was glowing even through the dark night.
Walking with her head held high.
He held her down and took the innocence out of her stride.
My mother is she.
I know a part of her hates the sight of me.
Because the blood of the White Man runs through my veins.
I have his eyes.
Even though they are green,
They still glow red to her.
Because those same Jade eyes pierced her soul that one night.
Sorry.
That's what I am.
I'm sorry that my eyes bring back tragic memories.
I'm sorry that I'm the product of her pain.
I'm sorry that the texture of my hair makes tears of sorrow form in the depths of her heart.
I'm sorry that the brightness of my skin splatter the walls of her soul with five different shades of gray.
Forever.
Forever will my inner me be a battlefield.
Tragedy lining the frame of my soul.
The word "sorrow" is carved in the beat of my heart.
The enemies that battle within aren't only black and white.
But I label them Black Angel and the White Devil.
Which seems so ironic.
With the man who sucked her life out of her body in only a single night,
She is forever linked.
My wounded mother is forever bounded with the White Man through the exsistence of me. ❤

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Druken Serenity


This is dedicated to my cousin who recently passed away. ❤



One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
STOP!
Now my saddness has disappeared.
My soul is now numb to the pain that once lingered.
The minute the room starts to spin,
I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of peace.
It may be temporary,
But i must have at least this hour of relief.
Although the blanket of sorrow will once again wrap around my body soon,
This temporary happiness is ,unfourtunatley, the only color in my gray skies,
I look for the answers to my problems at the bottom of the bottle.
I'm drinking my life away.
But maybe thats what i want.....
One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
 STOP!
A small part of me hopes i don't wake up in the morning.
But if misfortune happenes to rear its head again,
And i do, in fact, see the light of day,
I'll grab my best friend Skyy and be dead to the world.
Maybe even her sister Smirnoff can help me solve my problems.
And sort out the remainings of my life.
One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
STOP!
My flesh may be happy,
But my soul is drowning in troubled waters.
But even though this "happiness" I discovered will be over soon,
This hour of total serenity is yearned by my flesh.
Pain no longer lingers in my soul,
Only because the room is spinning.
I better enjoy this ride.
Because in an hour or so,
Pain will return
and chaos will invade my world once again.



Saturday, January 12, 2013

Woman

This poem is dedicated to my brothers girlfriend.


You let this man take control of your mind
And hold your soul in the palm of his hands.
But yet,
Your still a woman...
How can this be so?
This man has your entire life at his fingertips
Your dancing to the beat of his drum.
But yet,
Your still a woman....
How can this be so?
When he says speak
Your mouth opens
When he says be quiet,
Your silent.
When he says stop,
You don't hesitate.
But yet,
Your still a woman.....
How can this be so?
Tell me how you can still claim your a woman
When your entire world is being controlled by a man?
You believe that what is between your thighs makes you a woman.
You are inncorrect.
That labels you a female...
You haven't mastered the art of being a woman.
A real woman.
A real woman is independent.
Graceful.
Classy.
And elegant.
She is filled with strength.
Refusing to be controlled,
But demanding to be respected.
A real woman knows that she was put on Earth to be more than a "company keeper" to a man.
But to be great at whatever her heart desires.
You are none of those things.
But you still claim the title "woman".
How can this be so?
Is your mind not brillant?
Do you not brighten up your own insecurities?
Can you not water the flower which blooms from within?
I think what it is...
You don't know your own value.
You settle for leas,
Not realizing you deserve more
You find comfort in the word "yes"
So standing on your own two feet and saying "no" feels funny to you.
My grandmother always told ne,
"Stand for something or fall for anything."
I guess you've been "falling" for so long,
You simply don't know what it means to "stand".
Are you willing to learn how?
And finally becoming the woman you were meant to be?
Or are you going to continue being your man's "yes woman"?
The choice is yours.
Just remember,
It's a big diffrence between a woman and a female.

Friday, January 11, 2013

P.S I Love You

Everytime I open my mouth,
My heart drops into my stomach.
The words dance around my mind
And run freely in my heart.
But for some reason,
The words won't make it to my mouth.
I try my hardest to tell you how I really feel.
Let you know that you mean something to me.
And just when I think that today will be diffrent
And I'll finally find courage,
My palms get sweaty.
My heart beats so loud,
I sometimes wonder if you hear it.
My legs start feeling out of my control.
They shake like jelly.
You literally knock me off of my feet.
A million goose bumps find a home on the surface of my skin.
My cheeks turn bright red.
You take my breath away without saying a single word.
Ibdon't know what it is about you that imprisons my words.
But it's like my brain doesn't communicate well with my mouth.
Or maybe my mouth is disobedient.
I know that I love you.
But it gets us nowhere if I can't say it to you.
I want to be able to tell you that you are the golden rays of my sun.
The sparkle in my clear ocean waters.
The beat of my heart.
Our souls match perfectly.
That's probably what scares me.
I never knew feelings like this exsisted.
And yes, I do.
I cherish every moment I share with you.
Instead of verbally telling you how I feel,
I'll write a letter and seal it with a kiss.
And because you love it when I wear it,
I'll take my red lip-stick and at the bottom I'll write
"P.S, I Love You ❤"

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Nigga's These Days

It's sad that I have to call you a "nigga" to get your attention.
I can't reffer to you by your given name.
I got to call you "nigga"
Nigga's these days got their priorities all messed up.
Their minds aren't where they need to be.
Nigga's these days take the easy way out.
Selling dope and pimpin' hoes.
Applying themselves to something they should avoid.
Nigga's these days think that the world revolves around "swagg"
Last time I checked,
"Swagg" didn't pay bills.
Nigga's these days think getting girls pregnant makes them a man.
Ignorance is bliss.
Haveing a child makes you a father.
But, careing for that child makes you a man.
Nigga's these days limit themselves by using profanity and threats of violence instead of meaningful words.
Nigga's these days feel more protected by the cold metal of a gun,
Than the protection of God.
Nigga's these days will stand in line for the latest Jordans,
But wont stand in line at Wal-Mart to buy his child some diapers.
Nigga's these days believe a girl should be flatter when they call her out of her name.
Nigga's these days don't want to be known by the brillance of their minds but by the thickness of the bankroll.
Nigga's these days cover their bodies with tattoo's and wear their pants below their butt's.
And yet, they wonder why they can't get a job.
Blaming it on the goverment.
Nigga's these days claim to love their hood....
So why not do something to HELP your hood?
Stop selling dope to the son's of mothers
Stop pimpin' daddy's little girls.
Bring the children up right and be an example.
At least show them that there are other lifestyles other than the one you live.
There is alot of potential in nigga's these days,
But potential only takes you so far.
Rosa Parks didn't sit on the bus so nigga's these days could disrespect the elderly.
Harriet Tubman didn't risk her life finding freedom, for nigga's these days to be held captive by the streets.
Martin Luther King Jr. didn't march and lose his life, for nigga's these days to be reffered to as "niggas".
But if I call you by the name you were given,
You won't hear me.
And it's sad that I have to call you "nigga"
To get your attention.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

No Tomorrow

This poem is dedicated to the victims of suicide. ❤



Was life for you really that hard?
You were bullied,
So you put a gun to your ear to silence the voices that pierced your heart.
Tomorrow could have been better.
But you'll never know.
Your mother passed away,
So you emptied a bottle of pills down your throat to ease the pain.
Tomorrow could have been better,
But you'll never know.
Your boyfriend broke up with you,
So you carved his name into your veins.
Tomorrow could have been better,
But you'll never know.
You were raped,
And because you felt dirty,
You laid your body on the ocean floor.
Tomorrow could have been better.
But you'll never know.
You lost a baby,
So you tied a rope around your neck.
Tomorrow could have been better,
But you'll never know.
You ended your life
Leaveing yesterday in the past.
Cutting today short.
Not giving yourself the oppurtunity to say "hello" to tomorrow.
I know that tomorrow could have been better than today.
But you'll never know the same.
You ended your troubles before the relief of tomorrow ever came. ❤

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Say My Name Loud

This poem is dedicated to Syleena Johnson and Dr. Syleecia Thompson. ❤





I say my name loud
Because I'm proud.
I may not have the best life in the world.
But I have a path of continued success in my view.
God is with me.
So I say my name loud.
I remember where I have been,
And I know where I want to be.
I also remember the heroes who have paved the way for me.
So I say my name loud.
Everyday I discover something new about myself.
Both good and not so good.
Either way, I embrace it because it's apart of who I am.
So I say my name loud.
I may not be covered in diamonds,
But I still shine bright.
So I say my name loud.
I may not be able to "make it rain"
But I can make it drizzle,
Just a little.
So I say my name loud.
And yeah,
Sometimes I cry.
Not because I'm weak,
But because I've been strong for so long.
So I say my name loud.
I've accomplished things that many can only dream of.
And now I've been blessed enough to be able to teach and lead others.
So I say my name loud.
If I could,
I'd climb the highest mountain
And take a deep breath.
And because I'm proud,
I'll say my name loud.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

A Hug From Daddy



Daddy,
I know you love me.
But you have a weird way of showing it.
When I was younger,
I would cry about it.
I use to hope that you would hug me.
And tell me you love me,
 just because.
I wanted you to teach  me life lessons that only you could.
I wanted you to be the example of what I should look for in a husband.
I guess you could say that I wanted you to be something that your not.
And now that i've gotten older,
I've realized that I can't change you.
And I have to love you ANYWAY. 
Because your my father.
I just hope that one day,
I can get a hug from you.
And be able to say
"I love you too." 

Dear Yaya

Dear Yaya,

You are beautiful.
But you have got to stop selling yourself short.
Stop doubting yourself!
Dont allow fear to invade your spirit.
Learn to love yourself.
If you dont love yourself, how can you love somebody else? 
You have more strength than you think. 
You were born into a long history FILLED with strong women.
Be powerful. 
Dont prepare to hear the word "no",
But expect to hear the world "yes".
The only way to achive your dreams,
 Is by breaking out of your shell.
Dont let your mind be the obstacle keeping you away from your goals.
You dont want to be the woman that says "Hey, when I was 16, i wanted to do ALOT of things. But i was scared." 
No! You want to be the woman who says "Hey, I had goals when i was 16. And look at me now! I've achived them."
Look at the women you look up to! 
Syleena, she never gave up! 
She didnt say, "Well i got a 'no' so i guess i'll just sit here." 
NO!
She picked herself up and tried again! 
Now look at her!
Syleecia,
She didn't say "Well this is hard. So.. I guess i'll just stop while i'm ahead." 
NO!
She kept going!
And look at her now!
DR. Syleecia Thompson!!
LEARN from your role models.
You can do this. 
Believe in yourself Yaya.
You are worth it.