Another Fly on the Wall

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Meh...Love...

I’ve Been Framed

They always paint a pretty picture at first.

Then, they say I’m snarling, not smiling.

They identify the fire brewing behind my eyes as evil instead of passion.

They acknowledge my pride as a huge chip on my shoulder.

My stance suddenly screams conflict, not strength.

Everyone knows my name.

Everyone thinks they know who I am.

Everyone claims I’ve abused them.

Everyone has been a victim.

Everyone defines who I am.

She says I hurt on all levels.

When her sister was born, I abandoned her.

When her best friend sauntered in, I ran.

When her husband sent her to the ER, I hid.

When her child ran away, I was in his suitcase.

It is not my fault,

The crimes people do in my name.

All are ready to avoid the blame

So it’s added to my rap sheet,

Filed under my offences.

He says I am elusive.

When girls played on his good intentions, I deceived.

When she told him the child was his, I proved his trust wrong.

When they said, “I do,” and she didn’t, I misled him.

When the real thing stares him down, I confuse him.

My name is spoken in hushed whispers.

It brings fear, reluctantly.

The perversion of my personality has tarnished my reputation.

Most people say they know my face.

Apparently, I have multiple impersonators.

I do not hate you.

I do not run from you.

I do not damage you.

I do not push you away.

I do not destroy.

I can help you see strength in vulnerability.

I can help you survive your greatest loss.

I can give you the confidence you didn’t know you had.

If you trust in who you know me to be,

If you deny the outrageously false accusations against me

You can call me by my name

LOVE.

“Love should never hurt, but with the twisted way we mutilate its purpose, it has to protect itself.”

(Me)

So many things are done in the name of Love. People betray, they abuse and they justify lies. Love is so often associated with the feelings of hurt and pain, it’s a wonder that anyone believes in her purity at all. I can almost see Love like the pregnant Virgin Mary, innocent, but looking guilty as sin. Everyone points and stares; whispers fill the air at the very mention of Love. While plenty of folks will say they had Love at one time, or thought they did, just as many will say she’s an elusive entity. Lately, her image has been so marred and tarnished that I wonder how many still think she actually exists.

I am one of the few that believe in the true form of Love still being out there somewhere. Even with my strong grip on hope, I find myself doubting her existence from time to time. Each time I was cheated on, each time I was lied to, each time I gave my all and remained unfulfilled…I found myself questioning Love’s tangible existence versus her ideal. At one point, I fought to remain jaded in efforts to protect myself. Obviously, that didn’t work for too long.

Most people have faced a lopsided Love at some point. Either you have liked someone beyond their feelings, or you have earned someone else’s unsolicited affections. It is uncomfortable for both parties. However, it seems best to do the hardest thing in these situations: face reality and tell the truth!! If you are receiving undesired affection, let the giver know as softly as possible, but in no uncertain terms, how you do or do not feel. The longer it goes on, the more hurt will be involved.

I believe that everyone has their own idea of what true Love looks like. So with that in mind, we should all be looking for someone who shares our idea of what Love is supposed to look like. The trouble starts when one person loves and the other only tolerates. Trouble also shows up when two people with different definitions of Love try to build a bridge that will never connect. Eventually, our bridges may line up side by side, but they will never match up enough to create one solid bridge. We both end up with more of a piece of a pier than a completed bridge. We can either take our respective piers peacefully to find the perfect mates, destroy each other’s piers out of frustration and blame, or sit on the ends of our piers reviewing screwed up calculations and wondering how we got there.

I say all that to make one final point. When the Love boat finally comes in, I’ll have plenty of piers where it can dock and I’ll have one completed bridge, so we can get back to the mainland after my true love and I cruise the waters.

Puppet Master

I stare at the back of your head without blinking.

You’re so used to it at this point that you are no longer disturbed.

My eyes, they haven’t blinked in weeks.

The dry dust gathering on my body is testimony.

You have moved on.

I wish I could.

You are the puppet master.

You pulled my strings.

You were amused by the little dance I did.

You tangled my strings.

You didn’t have the patience to untie them.

You deemed me useless.

The joy you found in toying with every part of me,

You, no doubt, have found in others now.

Their painted smiles and rosy cheeks comfort you.

My features hold true for you, despite the dust I’ve collected.

I slump over in the dark corner of the cobwebbed shelf.

Without your attention and energy, I am lifeless.

I am the discarded wooden marionette.

I have knotted strings restricting my movement.

I long to bring you pleasure.

I witness your acts with imposters.

I feel abandoned.

I have lost my purpose.

I wanted to become your Pinocchio.

I was willing to face real emotions for you.

I mistook you to be my Geppetto.

My strings they bind me…to you.

My hollow body longs to house a beating heart.

My existence was defined through you.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Eyes Wide...Shut.

Well I liked this idea. Some of it...alot of it, is me. Then some of it isn't, but it is what fit in the piece. An interesting perspective in my opinion...but interesting isn't always right. I'm just happy that I'm a resilient person and can snap back from ridiculous situations that I happen to stumble into at times. Then other times I walk right into them, eyes clamped shut and pray its not what I think it is. I'm not surprised when I walk into the wall that I knew was there to begin with...but damn, the wall still hurts lol.

Misguided Intentions

I want to hate you and blame you exclusively.

I know that’s not fair, so I turn to my mirror reluctantly.

My eyes stare back accusingly until I accept responsibility.

You didn’t blind me and lead me along the familiar path.

I closed my eyes willingly and grabbed onto the back of your shirt.

I staggered after you, refusing to uncover my eyes, afraid of what I might see

I stumbled slightly on the rocks that you neglected to mention.

You didn’t exactly extend your hand to invite me on this journey either.

I take responsibility for solidifying a one way connection.

I’m only hurt because I withdrew and you didn’t notice…much less…

Well it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do…does it?

This is about what I did, why I did it and acknowledging my actions.

I wore my heart on my sleeve and begged you to kill it with your song.

Well, now I’ve tired of your playing with it so I cut the strings.

But you’re right; you wouldn’t have access without my invitation.

Since this happens a lot, you’d think I would learn to shield my heart.

The problem is that I don’t want to shield it, I’m a lover.

I love my friends, family, people in general, right from the start.

I am an all or nothing type of girl who has no middle ground.

When I give it all, it’s an overinvestment and I have to withdraw.

When I refuse to invest, I feel that I’m cheating someone else.

I know the answer’s in the middle, that place I don’t have.

I like who I am and how I love and one day I believe it will pay off.

It’s just that the sinking feeling after the climax tends to siphon hope.

The jaded person that temporarily inhabits my body during this period…

I refuse to get stuck in that mode because of misplaced anger.

I’m only hurt because of my own actions and your inaction.

I cannot fault you for openly accepting everything I freely offered

You never asked for it, didn’t hint at it, you simply received.

You didn’t promise a return of any kind, and I didn’t ask for a contract.

Good thing I didn’t offer any more than I could afford to lose.

I don’t regret giving; I just need to choose the receiver more carefully

All in all I’m mad at myself; you have done no “wrong”.

You will be an associate for whom I once had feelings.

I will be a distant memory…if I’m lucky.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

um...yeah...

If you think it's you, its not. If you know it's you, try one more time. If youre thinking, that's not me, it prolly is...

Making You Understand

You’re in my head, floating every minute.

Not that I don’t want you there in my thoughts,

But you aren’t aware how much I care.

I can’t explain why I care so deeply.

I’m not sure a definition would even prove helpful.

All I know is that it’s filling every fiber of my being.

I know things progress at different rates for different people.

But with you, something indescribably is taking over.

I wish that you felt the same way and confirmed it.

Since you may think you feel me, but probably have no real idea,

Let me try to contain it with words, so that you can name the picture you see.

Eventually though, you’ll have to see the fire in my eyes to understand completely.

I look at you and see the future I’ve rarely dreamed of.

Any sign of communication from you sends shivers through me.

I long for the caress of your thoughts and words on my soul.

I want to feel your arms around me, holding on tight.

I want to wake up to your breath on my neck, and arms over mine.

I want to feel the weight of your head resting in my hair as we sleep.

Even beyond the physical, I want to embrace your passions.

I can’t wait to back up your causes and organizations.

There is so much drive in the way you speak of anything.

I want to be the woman you need, want and crave.

You make me strive to be a better person for both me and you.

Wow. I can’t believe you have me searching for our future.

I may never understand this hold you have on me.

Perhaps I’d rather revel in it, than question my own good fortune.

As easy as it came, I’m well aware that I can all slip away.

Even though you see I’ve opened the flood gates and invested all,

Please don’t just indulge for indulgence sake, consequences unweighed.

But if you feel the same, feel free to join me in enamored bliss!

With matching determination, passion and flare, I think this could be it.

What if I become your very last first kiss?

Can you truly come to grips, using this as truth?

Welll...

I was going to dedicate this to the person it was written about. Instead, i'm going to dedicate it to the ladies and gents that I love and who love me. Thank you for not being this person

Venomous Masquerade

That mask is so beautifully enticing.

It drew me in like it was supposed to.

I’m still wondering how much of the act was real.

Did you ever realize at any point the damage you did?

They say hind sight is 20/20.

But it doesn’t hurt to have an insider too.

I have one question that I don’t need answered.

When you look in the mirror do you see both of your faces?

All of those wonderful things you said to distract me.

Really did the job while you stole from me in the same breath.

You saw my nature before we spoke because I’m translucent.

I wear my heart on my sleeve for easy access to those closest.

You snaked through the crowd like a silenced rattler.

As deadly as a cobra, you were to my dreams

Your reflective scales gave an air of real blood.

But you are simply the court jester, imitating crowns.

One day I’ll get you a real mirror.

But right now you seem all too happy

With your magnifying glass making you appear

Larger than life to no one but you.

How many of us...specially my females...do this? LOL

Patience Is a Virtue

It’s one a.m. and counting.

I wonder if you are thinking of me.

No. You’re tucked in and sleeping.

Maybe you’re dreaming of me…maybe not.

I wish I’d dream of you tonight,

Then wake to find my dream come true.

I look at my clock with glowing red numbers,

A warning not to do it.

I glace guiltily at my cell,

Type a text and hesitate before pressing SEND.

Immediately I regret trying to wake you.

I mean…trying to see if you’re still up.

Why do I do this?

I make myself look desperate.

When I just want to make myself understood.

At this point, how could you not know?

I text, call, email and comment on your status daily.

Wow. Do you feel loved and appreciated…or stalked?

As bad as I felt moments ago,

I contemplate “checking” on you again.

I shake my head and giggle.

Yeah that’s the way to invade your dreams!

Let’s trigger my ringtone multiple times while you sleep.

Wait. Who says you’ve even given me a ringtone?

Insanity thrives on this end of the electronic divide

As I stare at the disappointing silence.

I check to make sure the phone is on.

I send and receive a text with someone else.

Yeah, it’s still working properly.

You’re sleeping when you should be. Imagine that.

So instead of doing something constructive,

I sit and wait, thinking of you.

I watch other texts light up on my phone.

I vent my own frustrations through my pen.

I reread the one text with which I indulged myself.

“Sweet dreams for the gentle giant.”

Friday, October 9, 2009

My mind has wandered lately

I Miss…Him

Before I begin, I cannot stress enough how

This is not about one person, at least not one I know now.

It’s about my dream man, the one I never found.

The one I’m still waiting to meet, hoping he’ll come around.

Some may wonder how I can miss what I never had.

It’s because although I’m whole and complete, I am a little sad.

Not because a specific man left, but because I still want my dream man.

I know when he finally finds me, he’ll love me like no other can.

So this is about the things that I still miss.

The things that I’ll find at my last first kiss.

I miss the stare that reaches all the way to my spirit,

Not the one that cuts through me to the core.

The eyes that chose not to hide their vulnerability,

Especially when they are lying in the bed next to me.

I miss being able to giggle at everything in our lives,

At all of the ups and downs, each and every surprise

Laugh with our children, who will be proof of our love.

Stand next to him through good and bad, my place ordained from above.

I miss going through the bad times, so we know which the good ones are.

We’d embrace each other and smile, instead of wishing on a shooting star.

The foundation of our dreams rooted in the one we hold,

We would dare to dream big and expect to behold.

I miss the passion that exists between us when he’s there.

Even when I’m lying in his arms, his face buried in my hair.

Bottomless and never ending, like the rings on our hands,

Our footprints everlasting, unlike when water washes over sands.

I miss the voice that, with just one word, sends chills down my back,

The voice that echoes in my head, when I’m not acting how I should act.

That one that whispers sweetly that he loves me each and every day.

The one, that even when it’s angry, doesn’t hurt and push away.

I miss playing tackle football, one on one, in his jersey at midnight.

The hold I try to break free from, not really putting up a fight.

Pillow wars that lead to melding into each other as one.

And even the serious fights that tell us real life has begun.

So I wait somewhat impatiently, for the one to bring my bliss.

I wait on the Lord to guide him, that one man I truly miss.

Stunned

Like watching a horror movie through spread fingers,

I saw it all unfold before me in slow motion.

You and her, tangled in the bed sheets with my duvet on the floor.

I stand immobilized, paralyzing shock riveting through me.

Both of you are far too involved in your acts to notice

My presence; witnessing what I suspected, but denied.

I leave the two of you tangled in your web of satin comfort.

My heart lost among the wreckage therein

Can either of you still feel it beating against your bare skin?

I take a short walk to sort things out in my head.

Trying to figure out where I went wrong this time.

Well…I’m pretty sure that I left myself open to everyone but me.

Time for me to have a heart to heart with myself.

Look in the mirror and watching the painful tears slide down my cheeks.

Release all the pain and betrayal that I’ve internalized.

Flashbacks of what I’ve seen and what I heard between you

Haunt me as I stroll reflectively toward self confrontation.

I begin to question all of what I thought I knew.

With you, my guard was down almost from the start.

From what she says, I’m pretty sure she felt the same way.

Your thousand watt smile and intelligence gets girls like us.

Normally, I’m expected to come in kicking and screaming.

I’m supposed to swear threaten and cry uncontrollably.

But…if you’ve wandered this far from me…I was mistaken anyway.

I pull tissue from the roll as I sigh, heavy but silent

I retrace my steps from our…your bathroom to the bedroom.

I hear you call her the same as me and embrace reality.

With tears in my eyes already drying, I excuse myself quietly.

You both stare at me wide eyed as I sift through fabric to reclaim my heart.

I nod my goodbye and wish you both the best of luck with that.

The last thing you see of me, my back, you consider retreat.

I am moving on, determined to find someone who I can claim, to refuse to share.

She sits between our feelings, exposed.

I've been feeling...so I wrote...

And You Are…?

Thoughts of you run through my mind as naturally as a shooting star gains wishes during its run.

They turn over and over and I can’t stop them from flowing in…resistance is futile.

Like Deborah Cox said, “Nobody’s supposed to be here.”

Not that I put up walls or a barbwire fence…it’s just that…

You see, very few people wander into these parts without an invitation.

But the magnetic pull between us sucked you in with no advanced notice.

We seem to be simply orbiting around each other, slowly lessening the distance between us.

So now that you are here…we seem to be on an inevitable collision course.

This isn’t just an uninhabited planet about to be stricken by an abandoned satellite.

This is two planets, alive and vibrant, about to touch bases and do more than just bump and grind.

We are close enough that I see your surface area, and you in turn, see mine.

As our worlds turn we occasionally see a little more when the cloud cover permits.

We haven’t learned the other’s weather patterns or even seen the sun and moon.

Somehow we instinctually assume that they will match and not clash once we do make contact.

A shift in rotation seems of the necessary actions next in line.

Pushing any kind of movement could send either one of us spinning out of control though.

We have to be careful not to upset the ones abiding within, for they give us life.

The bump itself, no matter how soft, gentle and easy, is going to at least make waves.

We just want to prevent earthquakes, tidal waves and hurricanes as a result.

I believe it’s possible, if everything else remains normal, for us anyway.

We have yet to truly discover what is normal for the other as of yet, time will tell.

If our weather, orbits and rotations are not “normal” to others, that’s ok.

As long as we understand each other thoroughly and are open to learning the changes that come along,

I think we’ll be fine, regardless of the interpretations from outsiders who aren’t influenced by our spheres of existence.

So I’m officially inquiring as a new convert to your sights and atmosphere.

So far, what I see, I like, and I’m craving just a bit more to view at every full circle turn.

I’m fairly sure that you are observing my attributes and weighing in your thoughts accordingly.

So feel free to get that bird’s eye view, and even touch down to walk among the fields.

If…when we collide, you want to build a bridge to connect us throughout the ages, take a sample of my earth’s depths, so that you may feel fully informed.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Until You’re Ready

Writing is supposed to ease the mind, settle the soul, captivate thoughts in ink.

What happens when you turn to the paper and pen as if they are your only hope of salvation and together they fail you?

They were the last hope, where even incoherent babble earns its right to be seen, to scream out to others visually.

But when something severs your spirit from your soul, how does the writing become the glue, the paste, the hammer and nails, even the staple gun?

The regular aches and pains are soothed like salve on a burn, the writing gives way to the sweet sigh of relief,

The one that unburdens the body and soul from packages carried long and short term,

Like finally being able to get oxygen into the lungs after losing your inhaler just before an asthma attack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So…where are the airflow and the rejuvenation? Where is that satisfying reward?

This time it’s not helping, breathing is still stunted. What.else.am.I.missing? What.else.am.I.supposed.to.do?

This pain and suffering is new, uncharted territory, like nothing I’ve experienced before.

I don’t want to be on this journey, in this boat, in the storm of my life…and theirs.

Turbulence barely touches the magnitude of complexity, trials and hardships, in fact, this here, is bigger than any word I know.

It’s like when you run out of words, out of tears, out of places to ache, and you’re left with this, this thing with no name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your friends and family try to throw you safety nets, life preservers; they’d throw you a brick if they thought it would help.

But when you look in the mirror, not the one in our bathroom or bedroom…but the ultimate mirror that you can never shatter or truly avoid.

The mirror that reflects all that you are and are not, the one that speaks magically straight thru to your heart, regardless of your earplugs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s when reality hits. It’s you and God and He has raised the hedge that separates you from everyone else trying to help, trying to get in.

He has cornered you and your mirror and is looking for His reflection. He is looking for what you don’t see.

He waits.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Where In Da Hell Is Osama?

Does anyone even remember who Osama Bin Laden is?

We have mourned our fallen towers for years.

We have gone as far as celebration about a death.

Did y’all forget that Osama’s last name isn’t Hussein?

Situations of a political matter don’t often pull my string.

You see, I preach from the proverbial soap box often, just not about this.

But…I feel alone and stranded on this big rock we call the U.S. of A.

The land of the free and the brave seems to be an isolation tank right now.

Am I the only American here screaming, “Where In Da Hell Is Osama?”

Now we are a young country, as far as countries go.

I understand that we wage war to protect who we are,

As well as whom we want to be, in the chaotic world as a whole.

Sometimes that next step or the stand itself is a hard one, I get it.

What I don’t get, is why I seem like the only one still looking.

Most folk get offended when someone says,

“All y’all dark or pale or yellow folk look the same to me,” and shrugs.

Rightly so…but isn’t that what we are all doing now?

Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I could have sworn our troops were on a mission.

Now, let me pause and say that I appreciate our men and women,

The ones that fight for our freedom, and other’s freedoms, every day.

A moment of silence, if you will, for the resting, fighting and fallen military.

And now I politely ask, “Where In Da Hell Is Osama?”

Can I get an “Amen,” or a hand raised way in the back?

Does anyone else feel my anguish and frustration?

Can someone hand me a road map because I’m lost.

Are any of y’all thinking…wait, I thought we hung that fool?

Let me introduce you to Mr. Saddam Hussein!

He was the leader of Iraq, not the Taliban!

He made bad blood with G.W. Bush SENIOR,

You see, I suggest, that we have JUST seen the end of the Gulf War.

Now, like I said, I don’t do politics most of the time,

But right now I feel like I’m being force fed a stick of dynamite,

Coated with just enough crude oil to make it palatable.

Well guess what? I’m not opening my mouth!

No sir! I’ve got a few questions left before I swallow any of this.

Truth: Our buildings went down and the Taliban said, “We did it!”

Next: We sent troops to go get the sons of bitches.

Conclusion: We got him! Saddam is goin’ down!

Wait…what? “Where In Da Hell Is Osama?”

I have the audacity to think for myself and not follow the flock!

I have been told that I think outside the box.

My answer to that is, “Oh shit! There was a box??”

I’m almost done…stay with me just a few minutes longer.

I propose that G Dub Junior went to finish his daddy’s war.

We stormed the Middle East saying, “Get the bastard that dared cross our soil!”

I was supportive too, with my hand raised Black Panther style!

Then, “Here’s the big bad guy, Saddam Hussein! Everyone cheer!!!”

Huh? Excuse me? I think I missed a memo somewhere because

All Middle Easterners DO NOT look the same.

Hell, this man even goes by a different name!

He may have done some bad, bad things but...

“Where In Da Hell Is Osama?”

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I Think I’m an Anti-Feminist!

It doesn’t take much to see that I’m a female through and through.

I get the typical insecurities, but I also know what’s true.

The right man will see beauty when he wakes up next to me.

When he puts his hand on my stomach and gets to feel his seed.

He’ll feel that chill creep straight up his spine

When I walk into the room and he says, “She’s mine.”

I don’t mind being claimed, how it sounds or how it seems

Because I know deep down, what being his means.

You see, I don’t mind giving him the final say,

I can’t wait for him to come home to me after a long day.

I dream about giving him a tangible product of love.

Every day I remember to tell him he’s my gift from above.

My man is a true man in everyone’s eyes,

When others find out he’s taken, it comes as no surprise.

I enjoy making him dinner and catering to his every need.

Because I understand that a satisfied man is happy to lead.

Know that men are human, and they too can fall from grace.

But as a woman, know when to stay out of his face.

I don’t challenge his role as a lord in my life.

You see, I’ve researched what it means to be a wife.

When I took his name, he became my covering.

To step out from under him, leaves me vulnerable to all other things.

Women, we don’t need to teach a man how to be a man,

Because if we give them the chance, they will make a stand.

I hate to break it to you, all the daughters of the feminist song,

But someone needs to tell you that mama taught you wrong.

She told you, “You can do anything a man can, just as well as he can.”

Lil’ woman in the making let me tell you something. You can NOT be a man!

Your pants may go on like his do any day of the week,

But your seed won’t produce a child with mine as we both reach that peak!

After I’m done, I’ll give you the time you need to reflect,

But right now most of you are in need of a brutal reality check.

After a hard day’s work, women want to relax, release and relate.

But what we are designed to do in this life is to create.

Create a home for a man out of the four walls that he gives.

Make a homemade dinner out of greens, potatoes and ribs!

What a man brings and lays at our feet,

That’s him sowing, so give him something to reap!

I know some of you are looking at me like I’m out of hand,

But if you back out of that man’s place, he’ll have somewhere to stand.

We go around searching and screaming, “Real men are nowhere to be found.”

Shut that mess up and sit your butt down!

The Bible says a man who finds a wife finds a good thing,

So let him find out who you are before begging for a ring.

Good things come to those who wait,

Stop attacking the man before he gets thru the gate!

Learn how to be a support and a true treasure, a gem,

Let him see that you are the prize that he wants to win!

As a reflection of him, I take pride and delight in my position

Because I am protected by him, I don’t worry about my condition.

This means he takes full responsibility for me.

Not just my body and mind, but even my spirituality.

It is such a relief to finally ease into my place.

Because now there’s less stress to wrinkle my face.

Ladies if you want your man to be a true man,

Take the back seat and give that man room to stand!