Change doesn’t come easy but
Hovers like death,
Awaits a person,
Nagging at the inner being
Grasping at the hope that
Everything can remain unchanged.
Perfection is a powerful word,
Expediting the true meaning of a
Real, glitched life.
Flaws are covered by the strive for one’s
Excellency, ignoring the possibility that the
Cracks and dents in someone’s
Timeline has been polished and
Ironed into a
One of a kind human being, an extraordinary human being
No, ultimately instead,
Isolated thoughts are
Shunned by those who
Fear that mistakes mean failure.
Lies are drawn because
Accepting someone for
Who they were designed to be, flaws and all, is
Electrifying and utterly
Disgraced by perfection
Miss her spirit, be sure to
Inhale her aroma
Salvage her season with you
Soon she will be gone, so,
Miss her spirit now,
Endure her love forever
Being a parent
is more than the title
your name was given on the birth certificate
is more than the number of hours
waiting for the arrival of a child
is more than the cutting of the embilical cord
that disconnects a woman and her offspring
is more than the DNA that runs
through his or her viens
is more than the statement
that you are the parent.
Being a parent
is about the time that is
created and devoted to a child
is the love that is expressed
verbally and physically
is about the bond that is
built and is appreciated
is about the pride that is
draw out from both parent and child
is about the sacrafice of your life
to live a life for someone else.
Being a parent
is about being there physically
for your child, never having to question
if your whereabouts are greater than they are
is about being there mentally
for your child, teaching them right from wrong
is about being there spiritually
for your child, so they know the love that is
being brought to them is theirs and theirs only.
is about being there emotionally
for your child, loving then no matter what.
his smile and the way
his lips curve around
the white teeth that
cage his biggest secrets.
his eyes and the dark
pool of brown that
betrays his hidden
thoughts and fears.
his broad shoulders,
big enough to embrace
his most treasured gifts
God have given him.
his arms that once held
me, apart of his world,
that wrapped themselves
around another woman.
the way he smiled at me,
once inviting, once of love
that I thought was
his eyes, the way
they held desire
when they glaced
in my direction.
his broad shoulders
I used to lay on to
connect to his heart beat
and match the rhythm of his breathing.
his arms that once held me,
apart of his world,
that now wrap themselves
around another woman.
Winter’s night is peaceful, a wonderland
of snow lighting up the night
as the moon, streetlights and stars
cast their life on the white, pure blanket.
Winter’s night is magnificent.
Summer’s night is mysterious, an
eerie gust of wind, as the only light
that shines is scattered streetlights
broadcasting dark, questionable shadows.
Summer’s night is intimidating.
Okay, so as I was cruising Facebook, I came across this picture of this really beautiful girl who just looked like she was breaking her back, trying to make it seem like her Gluteus Maximus was larger than
what God had blessed her with.
And my question is WHY? Why do young women nowadays find it necessarily to pose in a picture with their back arched at an awkward angle so it looks as those their butt is larger than life? In my humble opinion, the body language doesn’t match the beautiful face they were born with.
And lets be honest, this generation, it’s rare for a guy to like you because of your face. What message are this young women sending to these men?
Just an opinion and feel free to leave yours.
It might seem like I desire
the way your fingers trace
the dept of my spine
the way my hips answer to
the tingle of your touch.
My body is in sync with yours
as my legs search your legs
as my hands clench your skin
as my torso arches against yours
as my soft moan cries out your name.
As you follow my rhythm,
this is all too familiar
this is more than what I asked for
this is more than I can handle
this is more than I can bare.
And, as much as I try,
I can’t get my body to lessen its tense
I can’t get my body to stop rejecting
I can’t get my body to become untangled with my mind.
I can’t get my body to
To the naked eye, fire is beautiful.
Red flames, the color of copper
scorches anything in its path.
Orange flames, the color of sunset
diminishes anything that once was.
Yes, fire, to the naked eye is beautiful.
To the ignorant eye, earth is peaceful.
Evergreen tree populate the land
as masses of blue, crystal water don’t dare enter
the territory that life walks upon.
Yes, earth, to the ignorant eye is peaceful.
We mask how dangerous earth could be,
ignoring what treacherous creatures walk among us.
We are fooled to believe that the fire on earth
has finally been suffocated,
as the latest tragedy has been put to rest.
We cover, hide and protect the deceitful mankind,
sculpting an image of safety and trust that our brother
will never do us harm,
until it’s too late.
Still, we are tempted to touch fire,
tempted to control the sunset and copper flames
knowing that at the slightest touch, we are to be burned.
Still we are tempted to shape the earth,
tempted to smother the fire on earth,
knowing that at the slightest betrayal
of what should be, we are to fail.