Tag: emotions

Everybody is talking about forgiving…

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Eclectic thoughts

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“Time heals all wounds.”

Time… How much of it do we truly have? Wounds heal yet leave a scar to remind us of our injury. So how do we forgive for our scars never truly let us forget? As i think about all the jumbled pain I feel in an effort to find ways of reconciliation I come back to how much more time will I need to heal?

“We never know the day or the hour”

At this rate “When my roll is called up yonder” I will be transitioning with unforgiveness in my heart. Just the thought of that makes me a little more depressed. Many people could care less about letting go of anger, pain and heartbreak. For them it is all part of life, yes this is true, but do we want those things to become part of our death?

Holding on to these negative feelings kills a piece of you every day.  The snowball rolls increasing in size and the more it grows so does the bitterness and disillusionment of ‘how wonderful life can be.’ It chips away at the possibility of fulfilling dreams in this life… To the best of our knowledge THIS is all we have.

“So you live, so you die..”

I don’t want to take the weight of unforgiveness anywhere, do you? How can we be pulled up into the rapture if our hearts are heavy?  How can our spiritual souls travel the astral plains with weighted ankles?

“The longest Psalm has amen…”

We all have differing spiritual beliefs, despite those differences we share the common ground of wanting/needing to remove the weight of emotional pain. If we had the power to turn back time it would be to do things differently so we can release pain and increase love… Love ourselves, a person, a passion.

Time is not limitless, it’s precious and we waste so much of it…. So how do we begin to heal…

The journey of healing and releasing those weights will take on different forms: prayer, meditation, exercise, charity work, music, writing, traveling, speaking … It’s all about replacement. Whatever medium you choose never choose the path of indifference or self -destruction.

When you become indifferent there are no feelings left and you become even more hardened to the world. Those ankle weights rise up weighing down your calves, knees, thighs… You become firmly set, like cement, and you have given power to the darkness.

That darkness fuels your self-destruction… Covering those weights with drugs, alcohol, wanton behaviors that often end up leading to self-assisted death. Pain so deep that the strength to heal is overpowered by the desire to die. You take temporary solace in self-destructive behavior to quiet the voices in your head that remind you of pain and raise the voices of darkness that convince you to eliminate pain by repeating acts of self-destruction. Then one day the voices are no more, you are no more. Did it fix your problem or just extend the cycle of pain to the loved ones you have left grieving, wondering how could I have helped? Why didn’t I listen more, see more…?

“Life is filled with pain and disappointment.”

Oh yes it is, for some more than others. One thing that holds true once you work through the pain and disappointment you can find renewed strength. You can be a voice to others, the ears to listen, the arms to hug, the hope for someone else.

What you needed you can now offer to someone else. When you become an anchor for another they will become an anchor for you.

Back to the beginning…is it that time heals wounds? I guess that’s a personal assessment.  the desire to heal starts within oneself and we must reach out to others so we will not rot within.

For me… My replacements are in motion and if they fail I will find better ones. I have no time to waste on people or things in which we don’t share a mutual level of value.

© Soulmuze 2015

Black is nothing more to you than the absence of light…

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Poetry

life

#blacklivesmatter #livesmatter

Black is nothing more to you than the absence of light

Does the color of my skin make me a sin?

Does the texture of my hair determine whether or not you should care?

The whip marks from the backs of slaves transformed to tear streaked faces.

Confusion and question on why are there different rules for different races.

Jury of our peers what does that mean?

As I watch what has become a legal execution scene.

Maybe the laws of this land I just don’t understand.

How you can walk away when I saw you just kill a man?

Was your life in danger? Shhh, I must be silent, I must not question.

For on me you may turn your weapon.

Who fired the shot that started and ended it all?

Is death of the perpetrator always the final call?

Split second decisions are not easy to make.

But it always seems to end with a life you must take.

Was there ever a time when you shot to incapacitate?

Does a badge and weapon seal death as our fate?

Even to you my voice has no worth.

You started my journey 6 feet into the earth.

“I can’t breathe” you all heard me say.

Yet I was snuffed out anyway.

Instead of Miranda maybe you should just read my last rites.

Since black is nothing more to you than the absence of light…

© Soulmuze 2014

Butterfly Kisses

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Poetry

Butterfly Kiss:
verb; random light, passionate kisses sending every nerve
into an emotional frenzy.

We all have encountered someone that had the power of the butterfly kiss… And if you haven’t yet I hope one day you will…

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Shift my cascading hair,
Plant your warm soft lips gently on the nape of my neck
Feel my body tremble
Glide your hands around my waist
Pulling me closer, your soft lips begin to graze my face
Trembling with excitement
Moisture begins to flow
As the anxiety begins to grow
Slide your hands between my thighs
The heat of our passion begins to rise
Soft gentle moans escape our lips as we grind our hips
Those special kisses on my neck, shoulders, cheeks and eyes
Begins to grace my breasts, stomach, hips now my thighs
Butterfly kisses so soft, gentle and sweet
Makes my insides flutter and my knees weak
Butterfly kisses is where it all began,
A sensation that I will remember time and again

© Soulmuze 2014 

Yet all I can do is speak

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Poetry

photo
I listen as poets deliver their words with action
Stirring your spirit causing rippling reactions
Yet all I can do is speak
They flail their arms giving life to words
Jumping from their lips like colorful birds
Yet all I can do is speak
Using sing song inflections and vowel imperfections
Yet All I can so is speak
Eyes to the sky, then their head drops low
Taking on a lyrical roller coaster as you watch the show
Yet all I can do is speak
Face distorted body contorted
Yet all I can do is speak…
Will you hear my words the same?
Hear my questions, feel my passions and my pain?
I cannot act out my lyrical prose to make you pay attention
Or clap standing tall on the tip of your toes
All I can do is speak and speak and speak
My words are no less or no more
And when I’m done my mic still drops to the floor
I hope you hear me just the same
For no matter the delivery no words are spoken in vain

© Soulmuze 2014

Leaving my bed

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Poetry

bed

As I rise and leave my bed
Random thoughts of you run through my head
The words you drop so lyrically sweet
And when we touch my heart skips a beat
So nice to feel like a girl in love
But the woman in me knows there are no white doves
Like in Disney movies swirling around me
Singing songs and twirling happily
It’s all just random emotions that I feel crawling out of bed
A fantasy at best, nothing left to be said

© Soulmuze 2014

She is becoming

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Poetry

amanda november 2013

She is still becoming despite her 40+ years.

She is still becoming for she has yet to face all her fears.

She is still becoming trying to fill the gaps in her heart.

She is still becoming waiting for her brand new start.

She is still becoming despite the darkness of her pain

She believes she will find herself again

She understands what she must leave behind

She is eager to see what’s new and will stand in line

She recognizes she had to fall so that she could stand

She recognizes that for her, God has His own plan

She knows patience is a virtue and she must stand tall

She also knows that she must be prepared to answer the call

She is slowly opening her eyes so that she may see

She knows that blindness kept her from accepting reality

She is not allowing others to taint her view

She is removing the tinted glasses and letting the real colors shine through

She will become more than anyone expected her to be

She is becoming amazing and free

She is becoming more creative in her spirit

She is becoming stronger in her fight

She is not a phoenix, for she never allowed herself to become anyone’s ash

She became a warrior, a tribal leader, a ninja, a mighty power who can be brash

She is still becoming for her evolution has no end

Becoming, becoming, becoming so much more than the eye can see

She is becoming

She is me.

For those who have fought the wars of love and won and for those still fighting.

© 2014 Soulmuze, Photo Credits Albert Blackman, Jr. of AlBJ Photography

The encounter…

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Poetry

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Words drip from your lips so syrupy sweet

As the clothes fall, landing at the base of our feet

A world wind of questions flood my mind clearly now is not the time

My body craves your manly touch, why do I desire you so much

As your hands caress my back and the energy flows I am melting from head to toe

As I anticipate the feeling of when you penetrate my heart begins to palpitate

Patience is what I must have as you taunt, tease, dip and dab

You enter my body I deeply inhale as now I have been properly impaled

Slow rhythmic movements complimented by full kisses of your lips accented as your hands grab my hips

Motions as graceful as a ship dancing on the seas as you slowly make love to me.

Love or sex I’m not sure, don’t really care right now I just want more

We ride and turn and ride some more as the sheets have now slid to the floor

Whispering words of passion leads to more labored breathing

as you stare at my full breasts emphasized as my chest is heaving

Words lost in my throat as you dominate every stroke

Beads of sweat form along your spine and run down to the small of your back.

I think to myself “didn’t know your hips could swivel like that!”

The intensity increases as our bodies wait no more.

We have finally arrived and got what we truly came here for

The encounter is done, our needs have been met.

This encounter has been the best one yet

Our next time around, not sure when

Counting the minutes 1, 2, 3…10 , oh, oh, we are at it again.

 

© 2014 Soulmuze

An open letter to the First Lady of the United States Mrs. Michelle Obama

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Eclectic thoughts

I was asked to pen an open letter to the First Lady of the United States Mrs Michelle Obama for a potential project and so I did. The project didn’t pan out but my words did…

To The First Lady of the United States Mrs. Michelle Obama,

I’m given the opportunity to pen a letter to you the First Lady Mrs. Michelle Obama and am stumped. What could I say that would motivate you to read my letter, give thought to my words and possibly respond?

Although I am so full with words I can’t seem to piece them together in a sensible way. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to put so much thought into it or I want to sound so intellectual considering the other contributors to this anthology. Well I am a simple woman whose experiences were quite complicated therefore I will just reflect me. I smile on the outside but am crying inside. I am grateful for all that I have and give with an open heart.  My faith is strong but my spirit is weak, disillusioned by the blatant disrespect and lack of moral fiber displayed by the entire world, and myself at times. Wondering if the dreams I had as a child will ever fully come to fruition before my eternal sleep.

I am fearful for my child that she may not have the opportunities that are entitled to her at birth: that of creativity, true love, lasting friendships, honesty, and expression without fear. Fearful that she may not be able to fill her toolbox of life consisting of a well-rounded education, diversity, unrestricted walls with no color, gender, sexual preferences or ethnic bars and padlocks.

I carry burdens in my heart that weigh so heavy on me I cry as I write this. For every one woman like you there are ten like me who struggle to grasp a glimmer of hope, the hope to be a woman like you and transition from an unsung hero to one full of song, such as the person who extended me the opportunity to write this letter. I look to you not as the First Lady of the United States but as a woman who had to jump many hurdles, swim across many seas, bleeding hands from knocking down walls and sore yet strong arms from wrapping them tightly around her family so they don’t lose site of the foundation it was built upon.

There are so many of us in an endless cycle of what I call a Cinderella horror story:

We create our image, then it is not good enough

We find our prince, then he is lost

We find our careers then it is lost

We find our voices then we are silenced

What more can those like me do to get to the happy, rather contented, ending of the story that would allow us to create an unlimited number of new stories to hand off generation after generation?

Life’s accelerations have lead us to decelerate in our values, community engagement, relationships, learning and understanding our differences, social intercourse,  and so much more. How do those ten women like me get over the hurdles? So many in power, yet so few willing to reach out to help just one.  For despite their success they haven’t let go of the fear of being used or better yet someone to push them out of their position.

Tell me how do we first overcome this feeling of disenchantment so that we can rebuild ourselves? Then how can we maintain it? How do we put aside our fears and recognize there is plenty of room at the top? The top isn’t the pointed peak at the tip of a needle. It’s as vast as the universe where the stars are close enough to create a unique shape but still far enough to allow them space and distinction.  So I look to you not for the ultimate answer to find contentment but for a pathway to keep my chariot from returning to a rotten pumpkin. To keep children from feeling like they are nothing more than mere rodents unworthy of being the beautiful stallions drawing one another to greatness.

I, rather WE, look to you as that candle in the dark flickering but never burning out but actually draws us closer to create a large eternal flame. The flame that will resurrect the many villages that have been lost,  uniting us so that we may be strong for our men, strong for our children, stronger for one another, respectful of one another, uplifting one another, replace envy  with support, replace destruction with creation.

We need to stand on each other’s shoulders for we are the pillars of societies, the single strongest rib was given to us and yet we grind each other to ash.

Mrs. Michelle Obama this is not to increase your pressure for we know you are human like us. This is to embrace what you represent to us as a woman irrespective of color and to replicate beyond your family but to ours. It’s not just weeping, it’s a battle cry for if we as women don’t change toward one another we are doomed to a fate worse than death, we will live in Dante’s inferno as we take each other down one by one.

As the ink in my pen begins to fade…, I say thank you for resurrecting the power of minority women in the public eye. Thank you for the class and respect you command. Thank you for taking an interest in the well-being of everyone. Thank you for taking on causes because they need attention and not just because they may affect you or your family personally. I see you in the spiritual glow of our great ancestors and leaders who fought and fueled the passions for great change in spite of obstacles.

Now I will bid you adieu and maybe by some divine grace you will come across my words, feel my passions, and embrace us ten so that we may start a chain reaction to the path of contentment.

© 2014 Soulmuze

Just Tired

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Eclectic thoughts

We all have those moments when we are just tired. Tired of the bullshit, injustices, knowing abandonment of morals and inconsideration of others. It’s so exhausting! You not only have to keep your focus, maintain patience but you also have to restrain yourself from just going rogue, sadly more people are losing control

I’m so confused and here I expected things to become clearer as I got older. Is it a sign that there is still a lot of growing up left for me?

Listening to news reports, watching people band together to share their displeasure of the injustice in the barrage of stand your ground cases I question ‘where are these people after all is said and done?’ Why do many of only see the injustices in our judicial system but not in their individual lives? How many of those ‘am I next’ protestors are shunning their responsibility to their community, family, lovers or better yet themselves?

I applaud the outpouring of support but I’m also just tired of those who realize the importance of something when it’s exploding all over the news; the tears have been shed or the pall bearers have been selected.

Don’t just stand for something when it’s sensationalized, popular or you realize you can no longer have your cake and eat it too.  Be that advocate in every aspect of yourself and your life.

Social consciousness starts at home. It’s about respect and values. It is held together by the entire village educating one another; understanding one another; listening to one another; fighting and forgiving one another; above all love and respect one another. The great leaders of the world stood on grounds that were beyond themselves. Their lives were imperfect yet they sought perfection. Their eyes and mind were not limited to the four square walls or a few city blocks but extended 360 degrees impacting every arc of the world one degree at a time. Yes the eyes of racism burned red like the site scopes on a gun ensuring destruction of their target. Yet beyond the fight for equality they fought for humanity.

While we only focus on the injustice within “the black community” the injustice rolls and gets bigger much like the snowball as it rolls across the uneven snowbound plains. Somewhere at any given time a human being, be it an infant to the elderly, is suffering from some form of injustice. They are the ones who are ignored by global media like the teenage boy that was suffocated by officers in a mall; the baby that’s beaten to death because he or she won’t stop crying; the heavyset girl who’s teased and kills herself from diet pills; the unsolved murders that faded away in the media and the family still has no closure; human trafficking and the list goes on…

I’m just tired actually exhausted that the lynchings have not stopped. We have just found new ways to destroy each other over and over. We destroy each other mentally, physically, emotionally and yes even spiritually.

Growing up an only child I often wondered why only have one. Then when I heard people say they didn’t want children I thought why not? But as I grow and the world changes I do understand one and none. Now as a parent I think ‘how am I going to protect my child from a world gone mad and getting madder by the second.’  I can lay my life down for her but when I’m gone who will be her shield? Will I be able to raise her to be strong enough to stand alone if she has too? Will there be any villagers left that share the values I instill in her so they can unite for strength and survival?

Thoughts overwhelm me and often bring me to tears. The emotional immaturity of many has me just tired. My over analysis of things doesn’t help either.. I guess. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way, at least I hope not. It may change and I’m sure it will but for today this has left me just tired.

© 2014 Soulmuze

Then I Pulled the Trigger

by Soulful Storytellers, LLC, posted in Eclectic thoughts
Then I Pulled the Trigger
Then I Pulled the Trigger

For years I wanted to learn how to handle a gun. I guess my curiosity was initially spurred from watching action movies. Then it evolved when I watched the news hearing of police shootings, civilian shootings, children shootings. All those damn shootings must be pretty easy to pull that trigger.

The other day a friend invited me to the gun range. So you know I was all too excited finally I get the chance! I’m practicing my aim with my nerf gun, I know, I know it’s no comparison but hey I would like to hit the target.  My friend handles a gun as part of his profession so he provided my intro to handguns prior to attending the range. Gun handling tips 101 always assume the gun is loaded; keep your finger off the trigger unless you’re ready to pull; don’t point your weapon at anyone unless you’re going to use it on them; don’t anticipate the recoil; most importantly forget what you see in the movies it’s not as easy as it may look… Wait! Hold up, what do you mean it’s not as easy as it looks? People fire off every day, it really can’t be that hard or is it?

I learned the parts of the gun, how to load/unload, point check to determine if it’s loaded, how to aim and shoot. This girl is ready for the range! I even had a study guide like I was going to be tested. Yeah I can do this, piece of cake.

Time to hit the range, Gun for Hire in New Jersey. You can shoot from age 8 and must have a valid id. Bring your own or rent from a variety of rifles to hand guns … wow shooters choice! We go fill out the necessary paperwork, chose a weapon and wait for our turn. As I sit there acting like “I got this” I watch the patrons come and go with rifle bags, gun cases, ammo cases and oh oh, umm… my feelings go from excitement to fear. I’m sweating in a cool room, chewing my gum thinking do u really want to do this? Should I tell my friend I’m scared as hell! What if I shoot myself, him or someone else by mistake? I would never survive jail. Oh geez, wtf, this shit is about to get a little too real for me. Yes I’m a punk!

Yet I am determined to follow through, besides this little adventure does not come cheap and I’m not about to waste his money or our time.

We’re up! We put on the earpiece and goggles head into our port. The smell of gunpowder, zillions of empty shell casings all over the place and people pulling the trigger with ease. Me silently trying not to panic, sorry folks but I’m dramatic by nature. As we start setting up I notice that the gum I was chewing is starting to disintegrate in my mouth! I was so nervous the chemistry in my saliva change and my little piece of chewing gum was breaking down into its components. How weird is that? I discreetly tossed it.

“You go first” he says. ‘Aww damn, really?‘, I’m thinking. Ok here goes. Take my stance, remember the rules, don’t panic, just breath. Two hand grip, finger on the trigger, use the guides on the gun to align my target… Then I pulled the trigger… One off, hot shell casing pops up grazing the wall… ‘Ok I’m good, your turn… No? I have to do this again and again?‘…  Let’s be clear I’m not verbalizing my thoughts. Please I can’t let him know that I want to wimp out and just watch thru the other side of the glass!

Then I pulled the trigger again and again. Time to switch guns, switch the glock 19 for the glock 27. Ok, I’m managing now. I have the 27 double hand grip, finger on the trigger then slowly pull… One shot … Ok this one is a 40 caliber hand gun with greater recoil, definitely too much for me. Thoughts went from head to mouth “It’s your turn I don’t like this piece.” My limit had clearly been reached. His response, “fire again.”  ‘What!?!! Is he not listening to me? Uggg’, so I follow orders lol. Hot shell casings land in my shirt, hit my head as I silently wait for his turn. Feels like forever!!

I watch him shoot, firm grip and focused, hitting the target effortlessly. His facial expression confident, stance solid and comfortable. Clearly, my ability to take on a profession requiring the use of gun is questionable at the moment… My turn again, I step up and handle my weapon, (yes I’m hitting the target most of the time), it is getting a little easier, but when is our time up, why are there so many bullets left in these damn boxes!!! Shell cases popping, hands all sweaty, why is the hour going so slow?

Finally, time’s up!! I go to wash my hands and my chest is red and burning. Guess the scoop neck shirt was not a good choice. That’s was just from the hot shell casings. Can we just throw hot shells at people instead of actually hitting them with the bullets? Yeah I know that’s a dumb idea, and I do accept that some people need to be taken down, period, point-blank.

What an experience. Am I glad I tried it? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes. Why? Well why not. We often fear what we don’t understand and cannot control. That being said I will face my fear and learn how to control the weapon. As far as understanding, well that goes far beyond what I can accomplish. I can understand the components of the weapon but will never understand how people can pull that trigger with the intention of taking a life “just because.” I am not talking about the legitimate situations where your life is in danger or saving the life of another. I am talking about those people who shoot because the music is too loud; your look like you might hurt me; you looked at me funny; I ain’t no punk; you were texting in a movie theater; shoot first ask questions later; the wild wild west mentality bap, bap, bap; etc…

I pray for my friend and all the men and women like him who chose professions that require them to be armed. To protect people who really don’t appreciate their efforts; to babysit criminals who still act out in the jails;  our military who go to war for a country that can’t take care of them or their families when all is said and done.

I pulled that trigger, and it wasn’t what I thought it would be. It’s not easy, it’s deliberate. It’s real. Remember when you pull that trigger, you can’t stop that bullet, it’s the ultimate game changer.

© Soulmuze 2014