Disecting dreams: Championing Change

image from Li Newton


We talk much to ourselves, little we hear aloud. You are your vision, see yourself soaring above the clouds, you are in your element, we are all products of our own minds. You become what you believe. Believe in who you are, fight for yourself, for dreams, for ambitions, because you are worthy of them. They deserve you and most of all you deserve them. Imagine your dream wrapped in a tidy present box, cocooned in silk wrapping, with a bow ontop, on an Island just waiting for you. Waiting for you to make that trip to endure that journey, to see that vision, see it, drink it in, and create momentum. Every big step begins with a little step, we are not daydreamers. Remind yourself that people have accomplished your dreams before. Smell your dream, taste your dream, feel the experience of it, it is yours if you claim it. We are our own paradise, it can happen only if your willing to take on the challenges, defeat the obstacles and cup your dream in your hand.

Distinctly defining yourself

image from wonderfulengineering

Sometimes we find it hard to like ourselves let alone love ourselves. Others may loathe a confident air, some may see it as someone needing to be brought down a peg or two. Yet here it is another desert for us to peel away at, the banana peel most of us slip on.  The world is full of different types of people, different types help it orbit. If you are a positive person, know this in your spirit, others have a habit of seeing something great in someone and deciding they deserve it for themselves. Then earn it. Don't be the entitled brat in the corner saying the World owes me, just for my presence alone. There are great people who started in life and their journey's defined them. It was their struggle that made them reveal that greatness within. Why not celebrate it. We are magnets and the people we attract to ourselves is often very telling.

We want to attract positive people with a healthy self confidence. There is nothing wrong with having esteem in yourself, the world needs to know who you are. People need to see you, others need to hear your voice, you have no idea what skills or qualities you are bringing to the table and yet if you represent yourself in appropriately, life itself will try and humble you. She is the greatest teacher, the world ever knew.

When you come across someone with a high self esteem, don't be the dimmy downs it, and if you do accept that you may be feeling insecure. Be honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be. If you have a problem with honesty it is important, not to lie to ourselves. We are all diamonds in the rough, each revealing their own selection of carats. Celebrate the qualities you do have.

Feeling inner friendship: How to fight for the confidence within

image from absoluteart.com



It is an interesting thing, learning to allow the insults of others fall on deaf ears, yet today...it's something i plan to fight to keep hold of. People have a habit of trying to kick us when were down, and yet not all of them. There is  a world of people out t here. Not hundreds, not thousands, but millions, billions, and possibly even trillions. While we sit disecting the actions of the few, you are more than their narrow minded thinking. You are the way you are. Often times we fix and adjust ourselves according to size. Someone feels threatened so you humble yourself more, someone thinks your arrogant , so you ensure you express humility. Guess which lesson i had to learn the hard way this year. No matter what you do, there are people in life who will find ways and reason's not to like you. Yet for everyone who doesn't there are probably ten more, 50 more or a hundred more who will. Just as you are. Not needing you to negotiate your traits, not judging or questioning every move you make, because they have lives, and you are not the god of their existence.

I used to think that you need everyone to like you,then i started to realize with age, most people can actually count all their friends on one finger. People who have been there for you. There are people out there who will always be riled up because your something their not, you have a quality that they may not have.

Confidence is something worth fighting for. I was at a business seminar once and my Mentor asked me about close friends, feeling a loss, i said not too many of those. To that he succintly replied you have to be your best friend, you have to like you first before other people do, you have to see yourself as worthy enough to be loved, and worthy enough to be appreciated. We are a self worth discovering. I realize and i accept that people are flawed,some of the greatest people you'll ever meet, with telling stories, with vision with purpose went through this struggle called life. We are not perfect people. Do some of us go through hell trying to be perfect? Do some of us come through the Wars battling to please everyone around us, especially those we love? Yes. Can some of us be cruel at times, and be versions of ourselves we don't respect? Not that many people go out of their way to be imperfect, and yet i say to anyone who is trying to build themselves up, the person next to you is also carrying baggage on this trek. We may not be at Mecca yet, but we are still building and tearing down, your mental home will always need refurnishing.

Hindrance and haste: Moving past Waste (toxic people how to beat them)

image by Lovebun

" Oh my gosh he did what?!" Yes, actual verbatim, you don't need your best friend, sister, or even your Cousin screaming this guy is an arsehole run. You already have your tracksuit on and your trainers to make a Speedy exit. Often times we sit debating why, who, when, are we being over sensitive, is it really as bad as it seems. Just ask yourself one question, are you feeling like crap? Yes. Arseholes will often try desperately to defend their actions, claiming mightily how you drove them to such destructive behaviors, the toxic friend who winds you up then stands in awe as you detonate, convincing everyone else that your the problem. Here it is in a nutshell. In some way we are all the problem, we all have problems, yet how these people choose to relate to you, shows their challenges are clearly "mightier" than yours.

It is easy to allow people to overwhelm you with their stuff, you snap, you pop, you fizz, you sob and you weep, wondering what the agenda is behind it all. Why you are the target of their hate campaign, and how every single accomplishment you make somehow makes them the giant and you the midget in their eyes. This is what i'm starting to understand about life, misery loves company. It is the oldest rule in the book, yet to the woman who is sobbing in the dark as her charismatic husband charms everybody else then returns home to assault her after making such a performance of being Mr Nice Guy, or the Young girl who is consistently put down by her peers for being vaguely intelligent, these are not happy people. They are not happy in their lives, their not happy in their selves, their attempts to bring you down validate one simple thing, they have a lot of bitterness and too much time on their hands, the work colleague who seems to think every good thing you do is a setup to make them look bad. I know the question you ponder internally as you quirk your brow.
 "Jeeze what did i do?"

My Sister said something to me this morning that made perfect sense. We are nobodies punching bag, no matter the Story, no matter the excuse. People have no right to strategically make you feel bad when it's based on even a hint of envy. Go  for a walk, talk it out with your therapist, just don't take it out on me.

Then you have those village idiots who seem to enjoy using you as a foundation to entertain others, they lack self esteem in themselves, and you are the target for all their unfulfilled dreams. Everything they never accomplished in life, every failed relationship, every Company that didn't hire them, every person that's like you that rubbed them up the wrong way. Here it is. Big long sigh, hands in the air, it's not your problem. Your not here to fix them, you don't owe it to them. It is not our jobs to fix people, it is not our jobs to understand everything. We are not gods, we only think we are.

I'm the why person, always quizzing why, asking why, needing to understand why certain people create such a distance, such a divide, and celebrate the Gap they've built eager for an audience of empty ears. It's fine to create a distance when you believe someone is a threat to such things as family, the foundation of it all, some of us because of finance, we worry the world sees us as an ATM, and others are just smart enough to realize what it's hard to acknowledge most days. Happiness is wealth. Wealth attracts abundance if you mix with those who like to bury others in the gutter, you'll end up dirty as hell, nobody is Virginal when we take on the chaos of other peoples minds. Your mind has to be in the right place mentally, for you to accomplish success, and the greatest success is happiness. There's an old African saying, "show me your friends and i'll tell you who you are." Pick your company wisely. Money can be recycled but the time you waste with the wrong kinds of people, you can never get back.

Keeper Love

image by Camilladerrico

I am your keeper
I am your love
I will protect you
I am your glove
In Somewhere less perfect
Than simple
minds here
I'll rub your lotion
I'll eat cheekbones
and tears
For in the summer
I covet your smile
Winter time
I aid your Mile
And as you Crumble
to bits of sand
I will rebuild you
Just
as we planned

The Inch

image by Butchermebeautiful

Even an inch
Of a  self less thought
a world knows little
and still not sought
Then we hunger
For the keepers inn,
Finding lanterns
Somewhere dim
and they Crucify
the timid self,
The empty picture
We need the help
Our silence betrays
But tears do stream
The Onion from a
Soul within

The Black Question

image by Graveunicorn

It started with a letter to a guy who had absolutely no self esteem. His name was J he like the other members of his family walked with their eyes glued  to their feet. He had no self confidence, and had a habbit of Parking in front of my home. When i walked he'd drive his car at the pace i walked, he'd called my phone once, and had a habbit of asking my sister questions about me. She'd come back telling me, he  had a soft spot for me, but i should never do anything about it. I listened to her advice at first amused and also flattered, and then one day, the truth about him began to reel it's ugly head. It was a childish thing, black women are over sensitive about their hair, and there are some days you don't want to see anybody. I saw him as i came outside with the bin, yet for some reason rather than greeting him with a flirtatious smile like i usually did. I panicked and ran. It was something in my gut. Then sensing from his expression that he was hurt, and knowing that he was still standing outside. Why had he not gone into his home yet? The guilt over came me i tiptoed back down the stairs, came outside and politely greeted him respectfully. He was furious, i could see it in his eyes. A week passed by and i began to notice he wasn't parking his car in front of my house anymore, i began to feel extremely guilty, and remembered days when despite the arrogance of his mother, he would sneakily park back in front of my house. I could tell it was making her angry. Everytime he did this she'd wait till his car drove off, then have fake phone conversations in the back garden as if warning me off her territory. At first i assumed she was communicating with someone down the phone. Then i began to notice how bizarre these conversations had gotten, she began to sound like Dom Jolly on trigger happy TV, and it was always conveniently right after he left. I began to feel guilty for appearing to be 'one of those girls' i call them. The ones who flirt with you to draw your attention, then suddenly start running from you as though the attention was enough. So i wrote him a note, innocently apologising if i had seemed rude in anyway, and apologising for disrespecting his mother, as her behaviour drove me to have frustrated rants. The note ended with a simple take care, i hope you and your family have a blessed year. In my eyes and to anybody with common sense it was a polite note of rejection. But friendly. I watched in Horror as something simple became escalated by a jealous family. From having him stalk me, to going crazy everytime i spoke to a man on the phone, trying to convince me that all friends and associates were attempting to hurt me or sabotage me in some way, stealing my ideas, and using them for his own benefit, inviting friends over to insult my Skin tone calling me blackup, a Monkey, Ugly, comparing me to my fair skinned sister, telling me to slit my wrist and cut my throat, attempting to try and have me sectioned so his family could get to my families contacts, and convincing me that every guy who wanted to date me, or was seeing me, was part of an organisation trying to assasinate me, and yet this guys only defence for this was to tiptoe outside whenever he knew i was upstairs, never have the courage to look me in the face and challenge me the way a real man would, would enviously eavesdrop on private conversations, feeding me more jealous paranoia that i would be Gangraped, and be injected with needles whilst i slept. Why this guy thought he could get away with this? I spent  a lot of time on my own. Despite being clearly unhinged, along with those around him, there was something else he believed put him in a superior position, him and his mother believed he was better because he was lightskinned. The more i dated and the happier i became, the more frustrated they'd get. Saying it loud enough for me to hear that they thought i thought too highly of myself, they began to invite others over feeding them lies. His sister and mother would ,laugh at me as i took showers, pointing at me enviously. When i went to do my masters his sister followed me to my old university purposefully connecting to people i knew, announcing lies about what they knew. I was informed that an Old best friend had died in a Car Crash, his sister who was obese would slam doors everytime i announced an accomplishment, they'd eavesdrop on private family conversations, sharing our private affairs with anyone that would listen. Then became obsessed with meeting my older accomplished brother, yet using my ideas to get him there. The key would be to drive me into a state of paranoia, drive me out of my neighbourhood and use my database of Contacts, and ideas to give themselves a platform. At one point he became convinced that the key to a successful life for himself and his family would be to impregnate me, or my sister. Clearly my sister was never interested so he kept saying "i'll take the ugly blackup one." As i listened in with more alarm i realised from his dialogue he'd raped someone in the past. He had a habbit of defending his actions with such lines as " these are rumours and accusations,"  and " if she says this then i'll say this." The more isolated i began to feel the less i told people around me. I was dealing with Stress and Health issues of my own, it all sounded bizarre that a family would watch us from the garden, peering at the kitchen, how we cooked our dinners, the conversations we had, our behaviourisms, the friends we knew, then one day i had a Seizure, it was in the Kitchen on the floor he watched from the garden and laughed with his family saying "that seizure was funny right?" His mum laughed with amusement as they commented on my seizure, i decided to maintain my silence. I was always at home alone, on the computer. When discussing the harassment i was experiencing i was told by those close to me, it was stress, the situation seemed too bizarre, yet the more i kept quiet the more the harassment continued. His mother and sister confessed to finding me sexually attractive, and in the most bizarre twist of Fate it was an associate who had known me a long time that spoke it with ease. " You don't have problems, they have severe mental health problems, this is a family that is obsessed with you." The more i discussed it with friends outside of myself finally being alerted to the fact that this family had mental health problems down the line, i began to gain confidence as i realised this could be prooven. People had started leaving their house and distancing themselves from them because of what they were doing,  at one point during a conversation with a  student i was mentoring, i spoke to him briefly about what was happening. The next thing i knew  a series of young boys got up and left his household, one boy said " i've had enough of this, i knew there was more to it," and at that the group of them left. Neighbours began to distance themselves as his mothers only conversation was me, she was obsessed with getting my attention. It was almost as though she had a crush on me, every time i returned from anywhere, she'd suddenly stand in front of her home pretending to be on the phone, it became tedious and exhausting. Neighbours would leave, i needed answers. What was clear to me was everytime we accomplished something they'd shriek, "it's not fair they get everything, we get nothing." What disgusted me the most was how they pretended to be respectful people when my family returned to the house, appearing to be a normal family, when they were clearly unhinged. At one point his mother began to spread rumours that i had Hep B, aids, and was an ex prostitute looking for work. It was hard to proove the things they did and said. From a mother asking me to lick her intimate parts, to the obsession his whole family seemed to have. I began to gain more confidence as i asked questions online, and spoke to friends. There would be evidence of what they'd done online, proof of their fraudulent hacking into emails and accounts, students knew of them asking people to follow us and see who our contacts were. His mother would often announce that all Africans have Aids, and Nigerians do Fraud, she'd call Asian people Packies, and was merrily on a jaunt making judgements on others despite having problems of her own. She felt as though people with disabilities, or any conflict that affects their life has 'problems'. This is one of the many examples of a psychopath. Why do i discuss this because it ties into two Key themes, emotional abuse and self loathing amongst black people.

Hatred is rife in the black communities, envy of others, a real disgust for anybody who tries to accomplish anything. The black race or the Ethnic Community need to learn to stick together. It's sad generations ago people fought so that we could be free, who were dark of skin who felt as though we were worthy of something.Then thousands of years later our own people are trying to Crucify us because of our Skin tone,, calling us Blackup this and Dark skinned Monkey. To be honest i understand if someone looks a certain way and you happen to say this person looks like this, and you say it once, and you slip up. We are all guilty of being Hyppocrites at one point in our lives. If you say this consistently and have the belief about this within yourself there's something about you that hates being black. These are the same people who will connect to other ethnic people who are trying to survive, trying to do well within our communities, and they'll talk to them saying things like " yeah it's a hard life bro, i'm trying , i'm trying."
"Yeah i know how you feel bro, it's a struggle....it's a struggle." It's more of a struggle because of the mindset of the few. It's a struggle because you think that there's something wrong with being black. You think ethnicity means poverty. You think beneath it all theres something wrong with black people that's why it's a struggle for you.The funny thing is despite hundreds of years ago when there were Caucasians who had the mindset that Ethnic people should be Slaves or Subservient, look at how society has changed. Their getting Tans now, black Culture has become more popular so it's now called Urban so it's accessible, and can be capitalised on financially. I was systematically called the family embarassment.  "We dont want the ugly Blackup one, give us the lightskinned one." Because as a dark skinned girl i dared to have some self esteem. All of this was done to me by people of my own ethnicity, and people of ethnic origin.

All these uneducated people who 'are black' that stand around saying things like blackup this, Charcoal, monkey, i don't date dark skinned girls. Their the birth of your whole generation. They are your ancestry, for all the dark skinned girls out there, i want to remind you, the World is full of beautiful people and your one of them.  You are fine as you are because there are companies that are making fortunes from your insecurities, and even dark skinned men there are Companies making millions out of your insecurities. Their selling bleaching product, most of us are guilty of purchasing weavons to make ourselves look more European. Companies have made billions. Clorox for example have made over $853 billion dollars due to their bleaching products, Companies make a fortune every day from skincare, i wonder why were always tearing each other down. The crabs in a barrel symptom seems to be productive of so many black people. Why is it that generally other ethnic minorities are known for sticking together, yet black people have a habbit of tearing each other down. When we do get successful there is a divide between us, and were told that we have changed, yet it's those around us that change towards us Is the 'black community a marketing campaign to sell products, when do we learn to unite?

Shadow Child

image from literature voodoo


Five pence, Six Pence
Three bags full
I was a penny
But worth more
Than you
You whip at my name
Pour acid on it's ink
Piss all over the Wisdom
I think
And then with burps
You say
Mistakes
It is no common place
To be cruel
And fake,
To hate black skin,
Insult our complexion
I'm sorry my shade
Destroys your erection
But god
Never
Lied
To
Me,
He's tired
And worn
Sick of people
Who choose broken and torn
Eat heartbeats
For breakfast
Suck pulses for lunch
Chomp at your brain
Till it's Sunday brunch
This hateful Self
You choose
To be
I am Charcoal
And proud of me
Blessed are the dark ones
Womb of the sun,
Whether they cripple
Or emotions leave you numb
Staggering into a stupor
Of pain and Bliss
Remember your skin
Be proud of this.

Isis Shock

image by besides that


Isis wind
a storm i see
It lights a flame
and comes for me
In the still
Of twilights dawn
I rest measured bones
Yawn
The verge of
alcoholic tears
a bitter quiet
Eats up these years
How mighty is the promise
For the tide
Sweeps in

Orb

image by Dewaroquier

We blame you much
for the life you lead
You took the plant
You sewed the seed
and much askew
once were your thoughts
an empty
thread
Of sign by nought
We calculate the time to fade
bewitching hour?
Do behave
For Wizards spin
a  Dominoes Sire
We are young
Yet truly tired
Exhausted
With a life was
Once
Lately i look
for my chance

Once upon Pinnochio

image by acquasio

Once pinochio told his lie
The world looked upon him
and we did sigh
how empty are your dollars?
A silk purse
from a beaten hand
the blackbird perched right where you stand
The crinkle of age
beneath the fold
we are fading this im told
and yet
how empty are your dollars friend?
For me to smile and much pretend
the wake of life
The shoe on foot
I wipe the years of
Chimney soot
and yea though i say
How empty are your dollars friend?

Canway Island

image from dailypaintings.com

"We are the strange one's " he said, " the broken ones." I pondered that for a minute. My fathers verse on life and identity, my brothers tongue on pain and growth. " We sacrifice much for this land we live on," we scanned the fields vast in their empire. From an emerald green to a season of tropical flowers, we had built much on this land. Despite a lack of a shed, and a small pillar home, this was our box. It was our cover from the rain we worshipped how sacred it was, and how infinite it would become. I drank in lovers mile, easing my eyes along narrow streets, taking in a world that belonged to two little legs which screamed for adulthood. "You are young, yet old still,"
"i know father," i replied in a soft tone cloaked with emotion. "I will never leave this place, this is paradise,"
"it's the fruit of an old man's dreams," his tone was groggy, bitter with the stench of beer, yet there was a clarity to his every pulse. It changed me much growing up on Canway Island. From the red robin which perched by my window, to the swallows that sung me to sleep by the crystalline Ocean, it was much and much was i. My imagination needed to never leave this place, it was the hunger of my youth.

Doorways and floorways

image by Picasso

The open door,
She yearns to please
On crowded floors
and bended knees
Termites in the things she read
We suck the blood
Inside our head
Canvas Vampire Skin
I am light yet dark within
and all the cries
the egg doth scream
Mother, mother
hear your team

Bottom Barrel

image by Picasso

I scraped the bottom barrel
Whilst chomping on my tongue
limbs would close on dreams
days when times were wrong
and all those shattered schedules
Of a nuptial day
The dreams that kiss
Then fade away, the mouth that feeds
into the silence
ideas are bloody
they bring minds violence
and yet i seek the acid
the thirst of an idea
quenching this sand mouth
silk on throat
Liquor in blood
I am a verbal alcoholic

Compass love

image from fine art america


A compass love
Is all i seek
You search things through
I pine so meek
Crave the destruction
Of misunderstood selves
I am the bad read you picked from the shelf
My crusted corners
an old man's scribble
In your shoe
I am your pebble
Water colour mesh
Love the colours i create
As we bleed
A virgin page

Worm Storm

image from nikhelbig.com


The worm the storm,
a blackened eye
i wiped the ash
I barely cried
For i arose like dawn
to death
Wakened from my peep toe head,
and how the quiet ones watch me
Whisper whisper
Go the mice
I am indeed a handsome price
A coal black heart
A throbbing sung
I use the spine
which jabs the lung

Sound Noun

image by besides that


It is the flowing,
the swaying,
the gentle lilt of a faraway thought, like a cool breeze
gliding into your ears
i am noun
hear my truth
i am adjective
feel the void,
i am knowledge
Mango flesh
tattoo me to your tomb
I am irreplaceable
I am Sound
Control me

How to accept when your crush doesn't like you

I remember it clearly, a crush on a guy i was so fixated on, i couldn't read the red hot signals of rejection. His body language said it in black and white, yet i fawned over him consistently, convinced that my good cheer, poetry, and charming intellect would steal his gaze. I became a laughing stock.

It is tempting to believe that you can wear some down, charm them, even bribe their affections, yet in the long run, they have to fall for you naturally. It has to be your smile that tempts them, your eyes that fill them with much intimidation, your gaze that locks upon theirs, and your intellect that makes them navigate closer and closer. There is nothing worse than a Beg date. Beg date's don't get love, but most of all, they never get respect. Any respect is quickly diminished, and as others look on, they will also puzzle at your behaviour. When someone likes you, they like you, who you are, your flaws make you interesting, your quirks make them curious, your insight makes them want to share a moment with you. It is you that's on their mind, you are worthy of love, your time is coming, if you have a high regard for yourself.

We have to love ourselves before others can love us, and sometimes we learn to love the hard way. Accept that you may not be their type, don't be the class clown, or everybody's entertainment. You want to be a self that in time, you will respect.

The form

image by MichaelShapcott

The thick and dense
Of Crippled things
I aid my floors
and spin my lens
I wipe the troubles
From my side, i ease the tens
i often hide
And how i creep
at corners dim
To Sacrifice
the light within
You grow
I burn
I pine for thee
My wounded soul
The aching me
And how a heart
Bleeds a thousand stones
And yet i stand
A throne alone

Houdini and words

image by Pajunen

Houdini the Maestro
Shakespeare the song
Where are the poets
as were still holding on
I chew on the leaves
The roots of a spell
Working my way
Not knowing to tell
For words
Words are slick things
Jam on bread
You wolf them down
They jingle in heads
And all those pretty words
With flower and prince
It's no Coincidence
Houdini has left.

Boy

Here lies the boy
The old lady said
He dreamed too mu\ch
It shattered his head
Brain lays wasted
Pool on the floor
Spit and vomit
Fingers once gnawed
and yet
Legs still jux ta po
sition
wrap pen in feet
and scribble resistance
here lies the boy
The gate keeper said
He sits on the side walk
Fixing his head

Jelly Baby

image from nicksayswhat

What dreams may come
to those who wait
Jelly baby
Your not in haste
Eagles;
evict your door
You will be triumphant
Yesterdays more
For Failures  thick
For those who climb
Courage spoon for those who hide
Jelly baby,
Jekyls
at shadows mist
Grant Mr hyde a Virgin kiss
Knock
Knock
soft knuckles at doors
Bruised with age
and ribbed with hair
Making others
eave and stare
For Jelly Boy
to enter the bowl
My jelly Baby
Take control

Suli Breaks speaks the truth

Love it!! Suli Breaks

With Each Surprise

image from bbc.co.uk

Surprise Surprise

It's in your eyes

The swamp of tears

A net of promise

Ionic bonds

leave a jumbled mind

You Klever one

the world is famished

For things we pick

and cotton wrapped

Sweet balls

Rotating orbs of life

Look at the wild ones

Their in distress

The kiss of death

has come near miss

They ache for Rope and Sorceress

Hand me a robe

for naked skin

the soul that's left

whose died within

A sip of hope

a lick of promise

Devastated by polished

Leather shoes.

Peak moment

image from youqueen

Taste like us
Sesame seeds on bread
Dry yet organised
I miss the corpse
Of romantic spring
The words that i thought
You'd burp what i think
All our Cheesecake time
Eaten in quarters
Man with a wife
Not yet to be daughter
What of the matchbox house
we built?
Cling film stair were never a rough
Yet as i scan
We were never enough
The lipstick on drawers
Paint on Fabric,
I needed a dreamer
I needed elastic,
What of the keys
i stole from your pocket
Gemini i will hide
and seek you

Walk by your side

image by livbee

A walk by your side
Sets the tone
The daylights lit
were all alone
I bite the oxygen
Of endless words
Whisper the nothing
The something you've heard
Before
Before all this
and us amiss
The calamity of life
Which creeps like oil
Are we bone
To bone
Or flesh to soil
Honestly
You were the
beginning of me

Redebony: Into the Dark Room (My truth)

image by Dashinvaine

Black divine
Black divine
Let your beauty often shine
Let the world
know your place
and others see
your handsome face
In the thick of it where you stand
let others see
Your gods fair plan

Lovers Keep

image from Galleryhip

" You make me want to ask the world a million questions," Aisha Croft sat at the edge of the Silver lake, her feet tingled with it's Icicle promise. Leon Ridd to her left.
Aisha pressed forward for the promise of a kiss. Leon leaned back, the moment was burdened with an awkward silence.
" It's cool," she muttered, the stain of disappointment clearly on her expression.  She liked the long walks with Leon round Lovers Keep, she'd watched Lisa bones get pregnant from her window, wondering how someone could engage in such a private act, in such a public place. Then Leon came with his Magazine smile, and sultry brown eyes, and they visited Lovers keep together. It was a magical place, especially in summer time. The pearl swans were your lookout, the rosebuds in bloom, yellow daffodils and aztec flowerpots, buzzed with the electricity of Grasshoppers and angry Bees. The fish in the pond were distinctly different to the lake, some were striped, others were wrapped in tiger print, and Japanese Rumblefish played games of Tagg. It was floral lit, and it was weird but officially known as Crompton Keep, Lovers keep was something different to the Young people. Aisha tossed a spray of silver Water up at croaking duck, Leon giggled. " You've made that duck angry now,"
" You've made me angry." She bit back suddenly.
Leon rolled brown eyes, Aisha dimpled a smile, then spoke in her Canderel tone. " I always feel left behind,"
"You mean from accidentally ending up a single mother," he snapped back. His tone was a whip. He grabbed her by the shoulders, turning to face her, her Chocolate Adonis. " Being a single Mother is tough, i should know my Mum's still drowning the gin."
Aisha knocked his arm off angrily. " I feel hideous compared to the other girls, i have pimples for breasts i've never been kissed before,"
"i've seen guys checking you out Aisha, it's your Attitude they run from." Aisha slumped her shoulders, her honeyed Skin, lit beneath the Orange Sun. "If i were to tell you a secret, would you judge me,"
"i would " Leon smiled, "but tell me anyway."
"Ever since you started walking with me, and were in the library reading books together, or that time we sat on the Picnic Bench," she swallowed a gulp of air " i get sticky, all the time. I get sticky."
Leon groaned. He took her hand softly laid a Voluptuos kiss of her fingers, then scraped the threads of dark hair from their Cushion spot on her forehead, a gentle kiss was placed there.
" That's what's supposed to happen." Aisha swore she could see stars behind his eyes, her mouth saliva her stomach felt hungry,as she leaned in eager to cease the moment. A stern finger was placed on her lips,
"your Fifteen now, but i promise you." His tone was heavy seductive. An arm was wrapped around her small waist as she was dragged unto his lap. She felt something thick and strong, hard, pressing against soft buttocks. Her body felt flushed with heat, and as the scent of Midnight Musk filled her Nostrils, and she felt his heartbeat rising stealthily, she pressed closer, feeling both safe and guarded in his arms.
"There will be a time for us.That time will be infinite."  At that he gently lifted her placing her on the hard ground to the left of him, and glanced quickly at his watch. " Quarter to seven, Mums cooking Sea Bass, with Spinach ." It fascinated her how Leon Ridd was always man and boy in one body, as he arose to leave, Aisha nodded a simple understanding, and watched his tall frame, clad in new green Combats and an Army boy Navy blue t-shirt disappear down the Long winding path towards Mulbery Lane. Aisha was desperate to grow up, yet eager to stay young forever. She'd heard stories about places like Lovers keep being closed down. Mumbling small prayers, she realised that one day she would be cooking Sea bass for Leon Ridd, a warm sensation filled her stomache, and she rose slowly preparing for the long journey home.

Goddess

image from carmencham.wordpress

It was the words that sung to him, chapter and verse, words that clung like film , soaking him in the wisdom that was truly kept. He liked her stride, a quick confident March as she sliced the air, ever organised, the ease of which her day was kept. Beauty was an unconventional thing, and for him, Jada described his wife as no Oil painting, neither a monet, but in his eyes gems were hidden behind those two orbs. The greenlight was a dimpled smile that Captured those who dared, slide closer. Chapter and verse, she was his, and it was a closed book. Yet when Jadan Arian Mitchan looked at the open shop doorway, summer breeze blowing his dreadlocks away from his nape, there his wife stood, his afternoon conversation, sharing dialect with Satan X. Satan X he'd nicknamed the man was the ultimate stalker, Cassidy could go nowhere without a call from him pinching strings of her time. Be it Spring, Summer, or Autumn, Jasper always had " a situation at hand".
"Arsehole", he blurted the word out as though it were accidental loose air. Satan X or Jasper cronenberg, " has to be some tall good looking mothafucker," he groaned to his best friend Missi over the telephone wire.
" Bastard has to be rich as well, you know what that fool did?"
"What," Missy supplied in her casual tone, he had a visual of green eyes rolling and eyebrows being tilted up.
" Pearls. He had to show me up, gets my wife pearls, and i have to stand there.....look what Jasper got me," he mocked. Damn he hated how Naieve she could be. Yet women weren't blind to riches such as a Royal Benz, a house in Monaco, a Studio appartment in Greenwich and this fool was still calling about " a situation." Jasper hissed angrily, sucking air through the gap in his teeth, his dark skin felt toasted in the hot sun. This heat was killing him, what was even worse was the envy he felt, bright red loud as symbols, throbbing at every pulse. Enough with this bullshit. For the first time in his life, he was ready to confront the devil. Small fists were balled up, his nearsighted eyes scrunched in  anger, mouth sandpaper dry. He felt dirty in his un ironed slacks, crisp white shirt, the collar had a dark rim round the edge, and his feet felt crushed in shoes that were a size too small. " You lovebirds look happy," Jada offered in a pretend casual tone. He hated Suits, there was something so smarmy about them, as though every conversation was an investment opportunity, your money not theirs. Jaspers Suit should have looked ridiculous, christ it was green. Sadly whoever this lightskinned brothers tailor was, this was a tailor to the start. " You forgotten your house address  Cass,"
" I beg your pardon-"
"Wife.Wife.Wife and wife back the hell off!"
Cassidy leaned back in horror her smoky grey eyes not being able to hide her embarassment.
" We're just having a-"
"Situation." Jada offered up. He usually finished the sentence of idiots, it saved them time communicating with the world. He scanned his wifes soft features, from her pecan skin, to her soft lips, and high cheekbones, this was his past, present and future. " I don't like your hair like this by the way." Fingerwaves. They suited the Cronenberg but they didn't fit his wife. " You wanna marry this pretty boy in his grasshopper suit,"
she raised a stern finger. " First of all don't you ever tell me who i can and can't talk to," she framed her curvy frame, with soft small hands, " and Jasper whatever the situation is, i'm sure you have more than one member of staff." The look Jasper gave, rewarded Jada's suspicions.
" Why i was only suggesti-"
With a quick wave of the hand, Cassidy returned her attentions to her husband. She dragged him by the arm, marching away swiftly, leaving Croenenberg junior open mouthed.
" You better explain yourself, as soon as were done with upstairs."
Jada nodded his approval, his features already beaming, and a seductive smile already teasing her clothes off.
Jasper situations were just too staged, and Jada's dumpling soup was just too damn good.

Star Catcher

image from tahoeculture

He catches the wind
Blames it on stars
The art of the weather
Keeps him  miles appart
For in this Paradise
Of Souls which lost
The storm hold
captures
The Jesus Cross
Breakfast bleeding
Teething limbs
Spine is missing
Blind ones dimmed
You captured the star?
She croaks
Just for you
Just for tonight
"I captured the star."

Best friend

image by ladyfern


It was our time
The world was a place to be conquered
We captivated it with our smiles
The jubilant laughter
Of skins slipping into body
And now i say
Where is the scent
That was at my side
The demons
that haunted us
Could not hide
Then they ripped
and dragged
and clawed
We saw versions
We'd never bought before
It was our time
Eclipsing world
Stone throw fences
Catapult into space
Rotating hips
and grinding lips
We were the sunlight
At it's peak
Eyes that scattered
Dust mite
Sins of stray Kittens
Nonchalance
Taps hand on shoulder
Out here in the wilderness
Where the sea is ink
I thought becomes
The fears i think
a burst of voice
From Sombre
Place,
Best friend
where was the smiles
on our face.
These broken teeth
and polaroids
in eclipto
No more music for our Calypso
Best friend
You were my song of choice
My eardrums hearken
For your noise.

Damien Rice: 9 crimes ( poetry in motion)

This video is a must watch.

Blank

image rezureketed

Blank, love soap,
washes of in stages
The guilt of our shame
nestled in rotting flesh
Fingers hold secrets
Mouth covets chapter
and Verse
I am like iron here
waiting for you to love me
once again
The eyes that fell
Glue eyes
Robot man you were
For the hay in the corner
we miss the screws
which crawl through chink
The tired whistles in the dark
Spit flagging,
as the icicle queen
melts
statues of indecision
I am leaking
Where are my hands

Crooked places

image by Senju Hime

Crooked places
and we need love
with broken faces
Eyes that bulge
and sweat with salt
what i was
Then who im not
And all our little gypsy thoughts
The stray ones we once were
I wander bus stop
Catching tongues
Tripping wires
Of scents that burn
Time snaps it's fingers
Distant mess
A ringing phone
is in distress
The purse of lips
with smoke
Cloud in the air
For all chalk people
Wander here
Beneath the brook
Of trees that sit
A sky is dimmed
With grey scales lit
The cheese of day
Electric Night
And all our little Gypsy thoughts
Voices hiding in armpit soil

Cool conversations: The importance of effective intelligent communication

Image by Xeuszulumedia


It began with a smile. I was sitting outside a stall with a woman who designs clothes for Naomi Campbell, GMTV, and a host of other well known celebrities. An old man approached us, he was stammering on his feet, stumbling, his words seemed to flow into each other like wine from one glass being tipped into another. Despite looking extremely well dressed, long overcoat, neatly and well ironed, he looked very much like a drunk. He sounded like he'd downed all the ale in the local pub. Instead of judging him,i simply looked up and gave him the brightest smile.He introduced himself as "Lord .... of Hamil."
When i questioned the people around me, it seemed they knew him well, and were also convinced he was a lord. Anyway long story short it turned out he wasn't a lord after all.Simply an older man who has a thing for "beautiful brown skinned women."

The key to effective conversation is Listening. We often overcompensate for the insecurity of silence, by drowning conversation in gossip, no one really need indulge. How do you stake your claim on a conversation. Think of useful facts the other person might require in advance. Conversation will flow with ease from there. Are they in Marketing, advertising, promotion, business, the creative industries, whatever their Niche it is important to use your intuition, and tap into something that they might require. Make good eye contact, indulge them in polite questioning, so it shows you are still engaging their senses. Be excited to talk to them. The worst conversations are flat conversations where it feels as though it is a chore. Offer good advice, without sounding like a 'know it all' be humble.

Compliments are useful for effective conversation, as they divulge information,  notice something positive about them. Ask them about upcoming projects, ideas, or things they might be interested in, maybe things they may want to invite you to or Vice Versa.

Find common ground, if your opening ice breaker isn't effective. Some people break ice with a joke, others break it with honesty, " is this your first time here, i'm a bit nervous myself," then the person responds, that is when you pay attention to their qualities acknowledge strengths, rather than weaknesses. Pay attention to quirks, maybe cool restaurants they can visit, happening spots, or something interesting that might appeal to them. Most of all just enjoy it. Meeting new people can be intimidating, especially if your shy , yet people can actually be quite nice, they may be just as nervous as you are. Have a cool relaxed energy, and don't let the tension overwhelm you. Your not doing anything wrong, it's called recycling.

Shape

image by borda


Artists
Sculpting hands and pillowed feet
I weep beside the bed of you
This paradise of dreams
We hide from an emerald world
Coccooned in your musk
Biting down on the punch 
Of your desire
Question me about the days
That sweet talk us
Charm the cages of kaleidoscope 
World
Eat my lips 
My words will be yours
Swallow my heart
I am a piece of you
Climb my veins likeRopes
Then carry my shoulders
Till your hunched back
And the eyes weep 
Perplexed
For we are more than wonders
And the shadow of pain
Resides near our Achilles throb

The promise

I leave with haste
Somebody new came for you
The snap of a branch
The whisper of a cold autumn breeze
Chill of ice as winter tiptoes near
Lend me your scarf
My Island Jezebel
I remember days
When you were smoke and mirrors
Curling in the wind
Afraid of your own reflection
Lend me an ear
Let me whisper the promise
Of the freedom we've crawled into
Rock you awake
Be your Lullabye
Pigeon toed
As you stand a strict march
Let the scent of your perfume
Rest upon my lips
As I nestle soft lips 
Closer to the stem
Of my long necked swallow
And let me praise you
For Oysters love
Pearls that keep them

Tula the Revolt: Stunning masterpiece

Tula the revolt Written and directed by Jeroen Leinders,starring  Danny Glover, Jeroen Krabbe, Deobia Operia, Paul Bazely   is a captivating cinematic piece based upon the leader  of the  1795 slave  revolt on the Island of Curacao for over a Month . Today he is recognized in Dutch History as a fighter for Human Rights and Independence.It explores one slaves rebellion against a prejudiced economy in Curacao. Tula a slave who works in the field receives word that The Slaves have been freed by way of the war in France. Tula tired of being abused, for both skin and labour, champions an epic revolt, which catapults himself and the other workers from their simple understanding of inequality, to a passioned fight for Justice. A civil war ensues on the land, and each slave finds themselves pitted off against their master, fighting for the freedom that comes with self and a pride in identity. This Epic Cinematic piece is based upon a historical tale on the Island of Curacao. It is a story not taught in Dutch education systems but imprinted as historical noun. Sewn within the threads of culture and identity.

Cinematic , enthralling,engaging and captivating, Tula the revolt communicates a powerful message whilst having you at the edge of your seat. One mans s struggle against an apartheid, which kept his people hostage , and maintained the unfulfilling life of a slave. Unlike any other piece about slavery , johanne leiner has dynamic charcters who translate as complex dynamic and even comic  despite their plight. Tula a field slave is alerted to the news that the masters slaves have been given the right to freedom. Despite the fear Tula  incites a sense of unity between his workers and comrades this incites a defiant resolve to Campaign against the master and prejudice government bodies.

The characters are charming and engaging, as the story unravels we are aware this is no more a roots than it is a twelve years a slave. It is a film that promotes strength without focusing primarily on the victimization of black people, more on the belief that they are worthy of the same equality awarded to other races. The book just as captivating as the film, draws you in immediately. You are hooked, and find yourself

fully empathetic towards this characters, and identifying personally with them as though they were sibling or family friend. They are characters you care for, characters you fight for, and whose dream you’re content was eventually realized. Based on Historical fact, the book is scenic and visually stunning, the language transports you to a time far from here, and you find yourself, eagerly scanning the pages and animatedly looking for new gems of fact about these key characters. It makes you want to delve into a much secreted history, this book is a must read and the film a must see. It is History appreciated.

The brotherhood of men

"There's a difference between you and i," Callifa looked hard at his twin brother. Isolated in that small space disengaged from a world of childish things. There was a difference, and it was becoming more scary, annd more real. " How many did you take this time?"
" Enough to fade,"
" What are you running from man?"
" From my fucking shadow," Ryan bit back. " Jesus from you. We wont be joined at the hip for the rest of our lives, ya know?" It was the drugs talking, as much as Calliffa knew this, he felt the stinging, like a blunt shovel being dug into the heart. The dreams started in second year of high school, those clammy sweat filled dreams, where he'd have to rock his other to sleep, and tell him father wasn't dead. He was just a selfish man that's all. One trip to the corner shop, and he'd disappeared, a whisper in the darkness, their father was a myth, a story mum shared at dinner parties with a Ciggarrette tattooed to her scarecrow fingers and a glass of brandy in her other hand. He disappointed you with a smile, and on the inbetween  days when you were a bridge crosser, you realized you were still walking on a tightrope. " What did you man?"
Ryan rubbed his eyes, they were blood shot, the needle he used had found it's home beside an original copy of malcolm X the book, and the reading glasses he hardly needed but often used. " I never quite get your need Khall"
" Need for what?"
" Just to be...i dunno, i grew up, you didn't."
" You call that shit Growing up?" Calliffa nodded at the sachet of white powder and the needle on the table. " Those aren't what you think. Insulin, soap."
"Why are your eyes so messy?"
" Because it's raining, because it's Sunday, and i called him, and he didn't pick up." The silence was stone. All the equations added up. The mysterious text messages, the phone calls from a stranger, the weird energy between them. " Just cuz your like him, doesn't mean your him."  Ryan pursed his small mouth. He was the spit of their father. His lengthy height, their fathers mahogany brown skin, and green brown eyes, he had sharp features, striking, with an exclamation mark impact. No matter the day, the twins had been told they were the type of boys you looked at more than once, or found yourself staring often, attempting to figure which glossy print you'd seen them in. Yet their lives were little of the glamour their beauty represented.
"How much did you give him this time?" Another long pause. "I said how fucking much did you give that bastard?"
"That bastard is our father!" Ryan snapped. He stood till they were nose to nose, shoulder to shoulder.
"He owes us a childhood."
These arguments were tedious he never learned. Never, never got it, never understood the importance of protecting yourself, your heart, from Adrian Wesley. Califfa's eyes darted to the exit, it was too early in the morning for this crap. If Ryan wanted to be a sucker let him, why did he care? They grew appart years ago, whether he was off the drugs or not. "There's three minutes between us, your not that much older."
"I'm protecting you,"
" Your the reason i'm on fucking drugs in the first place, you know what we did. I covered for you," Ryan released a breathy sigh, he scanned the chaos of their small room, a room that had suddenly become a prison of secrets. A room that begged he exit, for it held too many painful memories. " Bro i'm your lookout, he hurts, and it doesn't sting," Califfa glanced towards the busy exit. Clothes were strewn across the floor as though, it were a route which directed an exit. Ryans brown  leather jacket, the one with the chinese print on the back had been chewed up by their pet Staff Ripper, and the goldfish untop of the bookshelf was barely hanging on. "I've got the latest S.E Hinton book," Calliffa offered, a subject change in hand. He ached for the days they rode through the neighbourhood on Second hand bicycles, did wheelies in front of Angela Rossi and her Chorus of pimpled teen friends,lapping up all the attention they weren't recieving at home. I missed you, he said daily with eyes that pleaded, and strategic questions about events they could happen to be together. I miss you man. He doesn't get you, he's gotten everything else.
" Hey man it's lonely at Governors High,"
"Posh boy with his Posh ties, and fancy pants females getting tired already," his brother nudged him playfully. He side ducked avoiding one of his brothers Kindergarten jabs, "I miss you man, it is what it is."