Tag: love

Pre-Conceived Notions

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the first time we met, I stood knee deep in lust
took advantage of your smile
never thought I would fall for it
too young to realize I’ve just never met a man before
dancing in your eyes
willing
to gamble my last just for a chance to see you again
your words,
so elegant that I thought deception wrapped its arms around my waist
tried
to convince me our love was nothing but child play
planned
to hold nothing in my heart but a piece of your gaze
and now
just maybe
you’ll let me kiss the anger from your voice
babysit your thoughts in my lap
let you feed on the wisdom of my breast
and we’ll dance neck up in peace & tranquility

7 Keys to Peace

• Speak with Integrity; say only what you mean

 
• Accept Simplicity, never make things any more challenging than it really is

 
• Seek to improve on at least one thing in your personal life everyday without acknowledging the challenges that come with it

 
• Never focus more on the faults of others than those of your own; you’re always your own worse enemy

 
• Never exhaust your energy on problems you can’t solve

 
• Don’t use your words to speak against yourself, or against others

 
• Don’t take things so personally; nothing others do or say is a reflection of you

 

 

Peace can only exist if you want it to. When we are immune to the thoughts and actions of others, we won’t be the victims of endless suffering.

For the LOVE of Writing

I’m aware that not everyone who blogs writes. It sounds kind of contradictory since you’re obviously writing, but people have many different reasons for blogging so that’s probably none of my business.

When I browse the pages of various blogs,  I sometimes see many writers complaining about writing. In many ways I am quite confused about this, but maybe that’s just because I’m in love with writing, and that’s what I would like to offer you. While Blogging is a topic in and of itself (as some of you are probably still trying to balance writing by way of the blogging medium), writing is the gift you would obviously like to offer to those in which you are blogging for so that’s what we’re going to talk about. That, if you could learn to fall in love with writing, it wouldn’t be a tedious process. OK, perhaps I’m being a bit selfish; it may not be that easy for you. After all, I am in love with writing.

Sad writer

What does it mean to be in love with writing? First of all, like I said, get the idea of blogging out of your head, we’re not talking about that right now. Being in love with writing doesn’t have much to do with how frequent or less frequent you blog. However, if you do love to write, it can help you to blog. I just wrote a post on “The Brilliantly Untalented”, in which we discussed how sometimes the most introverted “untalented” people (from the POV of self); make for the best artists especially as it relates to writing. These people are not so overwhelmed with fear that they cannot write, it’s just that these people love to write. They wake up writing, they go to bed writing, and all they can think about is writing and the message they want to put out into the world. Will the world want to hear it? Who cares! The point is that when you love something (or someone), you don’t have to make yourself be a part of it. So stop it! Blog Writers, stop trying to make yourself write and just write. Let it be as smooth as brushing your teeth in the morning; let it embrace your thoughts, and in the words of Mark Strand let your words bathe in the blank wake of your passion, and be kissed by white paper. I don’t have to force myself to lay next to my husband because I love him. You don’t have to remind yourself to make the children breakfast because you love them, it is instinctive. The same is actually true for writing. There are mistakes that are made in the process of course, but when you love to do something, whether you get paid or not, it is not a long drawn out and daunting process. The key is that you want to do it. You shouldn’t have to make yourself write. It’s not a punishment; it’s just what you do. In the end, after falling in complete love with what you do, the process will be deliciously enticing. You will find yourself looking for any excuse there is possible just to write. And as with any gift that you exercise and use on a regular basis, you’ll notice that you’ve become quite good at it too, after all, there is someone out there just dying to read your content. Yes, YOURS. You untalented ball of clogged up words, there’s even a reader out there for you.

Mankind is an Arrogant Creation

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Mankind is an arrogant creation.
He walks proudly on both legs,
almost as if the wind carries him
His head is tilted toward the sky that he curses with his lips
But the clouds mock him
And the seas have admitted, he is foolish in his ways
He possess intellect, but his intelligence has seated him on the right side of fools
knowledge, wisdom, and understanding has slipped from his fingers; escaping his memory
He has no parachute to which to catch them, and he does not desire to
He is an arrogant creation, man is
Everything is thankful except him
He does not understand that what elevates the trees,
birds,
and even the wind is their willingness to bow in submission to love
to fill the vessel that is himself with compassion
to walk an orderly path
to wrap oneself outwardly and inwardly around it like a fetus in its mother’s womb
to bleed it’s law
and conform to the shape and the will of love
but he is greater in comparison
man is
And what compares to love?
He cannot count the number of hairs on his head
Measure the depth of the sea
And the width of the wind
Yet, he is greater than love?
Yes
It is clear
deception has robbed him of the truth…
because mankind is an arrogant creation

There’s a Poem Somewhere

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There’s a poem somewhere waiting to be heard.
There’s a child out there confused and afraid so he waits and she waits to be heard.
There’s a man out there who wants to know truth
but this world is so tempting that his dreams he’d rather pursue
there’s a poem out there somewhere that speaks to you.
There’s a student out there who refuses to sit still in class because he refuses to accept that his people are at the bottom of the social class,
he refuses to accept that his history goes no further than the days of slavery’s past
there’s a young lady out there whose virginity didn’t last.
Because see,
somewhere,
there’s a young woman who was taught that her materialistic was much more precious than her body so she sold her body,
for cash.
somewhere out there a young man’s innocence didn’t last…
Somewhere a young boy is told that it didn’t matter who he shared his love with
that it didn’t matter if he sexed ‘em young or old for the rest of his days…
there’s a young man out there who can’t understand why and how he’s got AIDS.

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There’s a false prophet out there waiting to get paid.
There’s a couple out there who just can’t get along
there’s a father out there who can’t leave his home, the home occupied with bars for far too long.
There’s a mother out there who can’t sing her song,
her song of new life that has lingered in the air for far too long.
And a grandfather who can’t take depression for much too long and a…
there’s a…
poem somewhere…
out there……that sings these songs.
There’s a brother out there who’s tired of being alone.
There’s a sister out there in search for a home.
There’s a nation out there that just does not belong,
in this world.
But there’s a Power out there who hears these cries
and a Truth out there that squashed those lies
and there are many prophets, they too have cried.
Somewhere now,
somewhere……
somehow …..
somewhere here,
this poem right now
There’s someone out there who hears these songs…
and their poem is right now,
so to say somewhere……
I guess
I was wrong.