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 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
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
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
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
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
If I take your words in pieces
I create the story I want to tell
That of rainbows, sunshine and happy times
That of you being all mine
But a fool I shall not be
No piece meal of words to match the piece meal of ‘love’
The tokens you chose to throw to get where you want to go
I hear the full story, line by line
I see those things you think you can hide
Like my heart is not cold my eyes are not blind
I know we do not share the ties that bind
Your colorful lyrics and momentary gestures do not mean a lifetime together
They are just meant to get me to do whatever
This game we can no longer play for with you I will not stay
For while you gave me pieces I found my whole
One who loves me truly from the core of his soul
“When that defining moment comes it will be unlike any other. It will validate all the no’s for now you have the ultimate YES!”
© Soulmuze 2013
Have you considered your dead end threshold, the ultimate violation (in your eyes) which once that line is crossed there is no turning back.
I, like the rest of the world, had/has/will continue to have my fair of shit thrown at me. When I think about the wrong done to me which triggered my retaliation I start thinking, is this the justification for evolution… Don’t monkeys throw shit at each other ?… Hmmmm
Don’t get mad, get even… But what happened to do unto others as you would have them to do unto you? … Unless you get off on negative behaviors you may not want to live your life in a spiral of warring with mankind.
The handbook for life is the most unique book ever created and only one is written per person. We each author our own book, creating our own rules and exceptions on a case by case basis. We determine that final ultimate violation rule that no matter who you are once crossed it’s a done deal. You may as well sell your soul to the devil because that relationship is over…
Or is it? I think we all have some type of morals, at minimum an ounce, so why do we often ignore that final line? Is it the forgive -forget factor or nobody’s perfect; it will get better if I just do this one thing; acknowledgement of karma; lack of confidence that a better relationship awaits us; are we so caught up in what other people think our actions become determined by society’s view; or do we simply enjoy the pain and humiliation?
Let me clarify, when I say relationship I’m speaking of any type of relationship, this isn’t solely about the intimacy spectrum, it’s every and any relationship.
Every moment we face this dilemma of managing thresholds and sticking to our personalized life handbook. No matter how hard we try avoid it, we keep rewriting our thresholds and expanding the exception list. To get what we want we add work-arounds to our personalized handbook, aligning with someone else’s, over time slowly corrupting the lines. darkening or lightening those areas that once defined your uniqueness and tolerance levels.
We all know that one person who will say “I will never!”, better yet you are that one person who said and will continue to say “Hell no! If that was me… I would never..” (Think about what I just said)…
Replay parts of your life how many times have you or that one friend eaten those words? Not only do we throw the shit we eat it too! Does it make us bad, stupid, immoral, desperate…? No that’s what makes us human. We will judge others for their decisions and justify those same decisions when applied to self.
So do we really have that drop dead ultimate threshold line? One of the most popular tattoos to date is “only God can judge me” oh really now… So why do we ALL have something to say about someone? Our whole entertainment system is designed to fuel opinions, our court system has a judge and jury, the media has their opinion, our parents are our judge until we can stand independently, etc. So do you truly believe only God can judge you?… God gave man the will to make our own decisions which lead to judgment of man by man.
Until the end-of-days arrive we will judge each other be it right or wrong.
We will adjust that threshold even though we know better because we need to either satisfy ourselves or please the masses.
Ultimate thresholds, do they truly exist?
© Soulmuze 2013
Today I asked myself for a status update, sometimes you need to “check yourself.”
The question of the day was: “Did I stick to my promise of “transition”?” You see I stopped using the word “change.” Why? I realized my mind translates “change” as dramatic upheavals, go hard or go home… Now I know that change can be gradual or drastic yet as an extremist I process it (for myself) solely as drastic.
In order to keep myself at a manageable level, I go with “transition.” My mind recognizes this as a metamorphosis over time which will yield me lasting results. So today was time for a self-assessment of the last eight months. My transitions are not based on long forgotten New Year’s Eve promises; they are things that solely depend on me, for me, decided by me… All about me!
It’s important for me to be better so that those who depend on me, look to me or come to me can benefit from the optimal version of me at that point on time.
We often worry about pleasing, caring, and satisfying everyone else before we take care of ourselves. My transition is not selfish in nature as I believe that I was not birthed for selfish gain but to be a gift and a blessing to those who cross my path and whose path I cross.
“Did I stick to my promise of “transition”?” … Absolutely!
As I see myself today I am successful in my transitions even those that I view as a temporary failure. Yes failure is a temporary state of being as long as you resolve to learn from it, modify your approach and try again.
The things I set to gradually modify have removed a cloud to allow more light in my life. It has also allowed me to share that light with others who are open to receive it, bringing them into the fold of “transition.”
As I gradually increase altitude I followed the instructions whispered to me by those who paved the road before me. “Put on my armor first, whether it’s a life vest or oxygen mask. Open the life raft first for you cannot save others if you are struggling to save yourself.”
The concept of me first is not that of selfishness. It is more of laying the foundation to be strong enough to hold up the rest. When the rest is stronger they are added to the foundation. Now the transition is flipping the ‘m’ in me to become the ‘w’ in we.
However you play with words whether it is “change” or “transition” it’s something that’s evident and relevant for everyday living. Take the lead in bettering yourself and others.
© Soulmuze 2013
Words cannot adequately describe how priceless my brother has become to me. Sounds strange? Well it was to me when I first discovered I had not one but two! I lived 35 years of my life believing I was an only child. Never truly feeling like I belonged with the family in which I was placed, yet grateful for the care I received.
I think back at the gaps, emptiness and differences I experienced no longer with resentment but with better understanding and seeking to gain more closure within myself. The brave woman who gave me life made sure never to forget me when she had to let me go. She physically released me yet kept me close to her heart. As she gave life to my siblings she made sure to place me in their hearts as well.
My mum had to let me go to ensure that I received the best that life had to offer without malice, or abandonment from my biological father (who embraced my brothers without a second thought).
My eldest brother harvested all that my mum embedded in him of me. As soon as he was able he set on a journey to find me and did just that. Traveling from the United Kingdom to the United States to unite with me…a sister he only knew from the images mum could describe since she only had me in her care from birth to age 3 with little to no photographs. His quest to find his older sister was greeted with tears, fears, hesitation then was wrapped in undeniable love.
Thirteen years after our initial encounter, only seeing each other four times within those years I cannot describe how much love I have for him. To see us together you would never know how distant our lives were. He’s everything I dreamed a brother would be and more. A phenomenal family man and I am forever grateful to him for giving me a piece of his heart and mending a piece in mine.
Written with unconditional love to you my brother, Sey, you connected the branch on my tree of life…
© Soulmuze 2013
Soulful Storytellers LLC 