Simmering Thoughts

I find that they are always best. Simmered thoughts. Anytime I feel the urge to transcribe my heart into the air I always find that it is best when thoughts have simmered a bit. A constellation of colorful expression brilliantly placed alongside a sea of feeling. A slow cooking of perfection, a lucent idea, crafty creativity, and steamy emotion kept just below the boiling point. Always showing up within those moments of contemplation and stillness. Somewhere between inspiration and writer’s block, a reflection on the world you carry inside of yourself is sure to produce a tasty remedy. A collection of thoughts, and experiences, and advice not yet given, boils down into a sudden birth of writing. We will see what becomes of it.

Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Non-Essentials

Today’s Writer’s Quote Wednesday is from Lin Yutang:

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Have you ever known a pack rat? Are you the pack rat? The person who just cannot throw anything away? As such the garage, the storage room, the extra bedroom, or the closet overflows with all of your things. Not just anything, but things. Things that are no longer usable but take up space. This quote reminds me of that.

Anything in life that cannot be used for the benefit of moving forward is a non-essential and is just taking up space. If I cannot make use of this computer, if it is broken and it has proven to go beyond restoration, then it is no use to me. It must be undone. Left alone. I try to look at life in terms of value and quality. Anything that I add to my personal space: relationships, writing, goals, friendships, and even blogging, if it does not assist me in some way, does not add value to my life in some way, then it must be left undone. It is a non-essential. I cannot use it.

The Point of it all? Learn to do away with anything that no longer grows you.

Linyutang

Lin Yutang (October 10, 1895 – March 26, 1976) was a Chinese writer, translator, linguist and inventor. His informal but polished style in both Chinese and English made him one of the most influential writers of his generation, and his compilations and translations of classic Chinese text into English were bestsellers in the West.

 

 

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Don’t forget to join us every week for Writer’s Quote Wednesday, Hosted by Silver Threading.

Stella: Book #1

Born: 1845
Owner: Paul Saddler
ID: 637
Name: Stella
Height: 44.0
Sex / Age: Girl, 6

Mama says my feet ain’t little girls feet. Say I shouldn’t be akin like no boy. But I likes running and the way my toes feel wiggling through the mud. I likes the gooey wetness, even the way the red dirt taste too. And I watch the little dusty balls go up in the air and cover up the cotton I was too short to reach anyways. So’s I likes running through the fields to see how high I’s get. One time I’s made it wheres I touched the sun. It wasn’t even hot either. It didn’t feel like nothing but air. I told mama the sun was tricking us.

 
“And how it do that?”

 
“Cuz mama, I touched it and it ain’t burn my finger none. It feels hot but it ain’ts really.”

 
Mama laughed but that’s only cuz she ain’t touched it. And the next day all of us had sticky skin, peeling and sweaty like creepy crawlers running down our backs and foreheads. The grown people say something bout a heat wave, but yesterday mama laughs so’s I know’d it was jest the sun.

1864
Stella Mae, Age: 19

Words can’t explain my excitement. For the first time since befoe Mama died I was actually happy to finish the last of the chores. I think even Ole Marse Saddler noticed it. He commanded me to wipe that ugly smile offa my face. Said nobody’s ugly as me deserved to smile, but I didn’t care none. I’s jest couldn’t stop feelin good. I was ‘bout to leave this place.

– Stella

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Available 2/24/15 @ $7.00

Stella never did leave the Saddler Plantation as she intended. Find out why in Book #1 of this short story and discover what’s really between slavery and freedom.

Book #1 Available in print February 24, 2015.

Responsibilities

Yecheilyah-72dpi-1500x2000-e-bookI know I know it’s been a scarce week (or two) here on The PBS Blog. Truth is I began a number of projects years ago that are starting to show signs of fruit. I am completing my first short story series. In fact, Stella Book #1 Releases Next Week which will be promptly followed by additional parts taking me well into the summer and just in time to begin work on Pearls Before Swine Vol. #2 in the fall. Needless to say I expect to have a busy year (yaaasss). But the biggest project, the one I am super siked to be on the finishing end of is the audio for my Third Poetry Book Collection “Womanhood Don’t Begin in Menstrual Cycles”, which releases next month (March). But while I set out to organize my life offline, it led me to today’s post: Responsibilities.

This has nothing to do with projects or books, but life. As we go about our daily routines and the accomplishments of our goals there is a lot missing from the accountability end of this whirlwind of events and circumstances. We must keep in mind that we are responsible for everything we say, everything we do and everything that we write. There’s a quote that says ” We are what we write”, and what a profound truth. I speak and you listen and as a result of my speaking you in turn perceive. You may either accept or reject and that’s your business. I cannot be responsible for the way in which your eyes see, but I can be responsible for influencing what you see. In other words, our personal lives would be so much better if as individuals we took responsibility for who we are and what we are and those things that we influence, good or bad.

A young man dies on the street corner. He is 17 years old. By age 5 he can quote the rap lyric to every rap song known to man. His routine consists of school, TV, food and back again. Homework has been lost in-between. At age 10 he came into the house at whatever hour his youthful activities would warrant. By age 13 he was buying his own clothing and paying his mothers bills. By the age of 16 he was paying her rent altogether. At 17 years old a young man is gunned down on the street corner. The aftermath presents a distraught mother who cannot fathom the animal who would gun down her son. “He was a good boy”, she says. And while I would not doubt he just may have been a nice guy, what was he doing on the corner in the first place? What kind of activities led him there? And at what point does this mother take responsibility for the kind of behavior she approved the moment she accepted what she knew to be drug money? Or perhaps I trip over a rock and scar my face in the process. Oh and I was texting by the way so I wasn’t exactly looking up. I was not paying attention and as such I could not see what was in front of me. This is the kind of accountability in which I speak.

Healing can only come from personal accountability. I can never fix what is wrong with me if I cannot acknowledge my own imperfections. It is important to ask ourselves: “What is it about me that led to this? What is it about my heart that chose this?” Because only until we come fully into the understanding of our personal selves can we begin to make changes. Until then we will never progress in our lives. But once the process of personal accountability has begun, then we will begin to improve on those struggles we once thought were immovable. A bad situation is always a bad situation, but growth is optional. We choose to accept who we are and who we have become. We decide what aspects of our lives will change and which will remain based on our level of responsibility. When we are at fault we choose to accept or deny that fault. And when we have made a mistake we choose how that mistake will change us.

Perception and Reality

perception

I wonder what your life would be like. What kind of thoughts would exist in that head of yours, and what kind of actions they would produce if you were not subjected to the perception of society. Where would we be if infancy did not play tricks on our mental by conforming our ways to those around us? If childhood was met with the kind of vision we often go back to. If foresight was 20/20, would we see what exist or would our lives still be dictated only by what we choose to see?

Nin_SeeThingsIt is an interesting ponder, where would you be in your life if you were brave enough to neglect civilizations norms? If you were brave enough to risk insanity by choosing to see beyond what is the desire of your personal self. I stare out into the distance and watch as Bobby Kristina fights for her life. But what is really there? Is it a young woman fighting for her life, or is it a life that was doomed to begin with? This is the second time she was found face down in a similar position as her mom. Once before Whitney’s death and again afterwards. What kind of reality was this young woman born into? Is she dying, or is she already dead? I just use this as an example because it is an event fresh in our minds. Are we courageous enough to embrace reality? Or will reality always be plagued by our individual perspectives?

aaff57942df6eb16793e94c8fd709b33Perception is not always reality. Nor is reality always the way we perceive it to be. We float through life half blind. A physical touching of tangibility engulfs our days. We smell and taste and touch of surface life. Gliding along all the crooked reasons why it is not important to search for the truth beneath the surface. Wondering whether or not we should think inside or outside the box without first asking where the box came from to begin with. We sit here with a handful of normal while amazing stands in the shadows. She is waiting for you to identify her existence so that you may find refuge underneath her wings. Instead we glide along life wondering if the glass is half empty or half full. In the meantime, there is no glass.

Not Another One

microphone

No
This is not another one
Not a sex poem,
not a hood poem
Not a “I’m black and I’m proud!” so let’s try to be real poem
Not another marching
No more killings
(and please let’s do something other than sit in)
not another “We shall overcome.”
No not another one
Not a slow one
Not one 2 bore you
I’m not that one
Rising from my falls
I am that one,
but don’t you worry,
cause not another dialogue
No not another one
Not another long-winded one
nor will I give you a fast one
No not another fast one,
you see my words no need 2 map it
So what am I a rapper or a poet?
Not another one
yet just another one
these words I encourage your minds 2 freeze it
Just freeze
Cause this is not another one about Jes-
Us
not another one about Just
Us
Not a kemet poet
and can you believe I have a twin but this is not another Mary Mary Duet
Not another Allah, Buddha, Osiris and Horus,
not another number 2 define me no matter what the score is
For only the Truth knows what my sentence is
She with the gun in her hand you mistake for the pen
Keeping the laws that my father gave
and promises kept sacred from the grave
Watching this pen bleed life onto a lifeless page
Sent from the mighty one,
but don’t you worry
this is not another
So like, I’ll just leave my footprints in the Sun” one
No,
she’s definitely not another one
yet just another one..