Makes Me Wanna Holler!

It is times like this when i feel so small. Like a mere particle occupying a small space- only taking up space. The false reality sets in, because really, it shouldn't be real. A small child, that very well could have been me facing the worst of the worst. Encroached upon and could do absolutely nothing about what was happening to them.

i hated to hear the words that she had been impeded upon. Her innocence was nothing to him, he took what he knew was not his. he stole her, ripped her and then like it was nothing sent her back on her way. After she had come from a place so foreign he sent her back home to a place so familiar. She had to be confused. How could he have been satisfied? How could he have been happy with the act of hatred that he had just committed? Evil is not hard to find. It lurks deep in the crevices or on top of the blades of grass that grows pretty in the summertime. Pity? i have none for him. i deem him a sorry excuse, mentally amuck and sore fuck up of a man. He is dirt in the bellows of the worse man's soul.

He did not take into consideration her yesterday, today or tomorrow. Her blood, his comfort? Asshole. Her tears, his manhood? Jackass. Her screams, his savage pride? Bitchass.

Words can not express my anger. Words can not even fashion the feelings that are dwelling within me deep enough to cut holes in the earth's core and ask if God was even there. Tonight I will pray for her and then I will pray that the anger in my heart subsides. Tonight, I will pray that Jesus steps in and takes over the situation.

Every lesson learned is a lesson earned.

Amen

Song of Solomon

SHALIMONE

By the time I was introduced to who Solomon was, I was overcome by the beautiful language in which the story offered. Morrison writes with such eloquence and beauty. Song of Solomon was the third book that I have read by Morrison. Usually I get so tied up in the confusion that she offers in her writings, this time I was waiting to be confused, waiting to be mis-led, waiting for this character to pop up out of nowhere and mean everything. He/she was not there; the book was full of passion, sacrifice, love, hatred, self confusion, knowledge of self and everything possible. I loved the book for its discovery of family and of life, Morrison took me on a journey through generations of past life. It seems almost as if one of us today could discover that hidden secret and unwrap a line of history as rich as Milkmans.

I want to know Morrison's secret, sure she knows something about this story that no one else knows. The characters used to be her friends, they spoke to her long enough for her to tell their story. They chose to come alive through the mind of Morrison. I wonder what else she knows about them. About Pilate, Macon, Milkman, Guitar, First Corithians, Magdalene, Sweet, Song, Ruth, Hagar and all of the characters that chose Morrison. Out of all of the writers in the world, they chose her. I guess they knew that she would tell it just like it was. She wouldn't add too much or take away any. She would feed it to us straight, no quarrels or quams.

I put the book down, feeling free. Free to discover, uncover, grow...fly. Morrison tells the world about black people, about their culture, their lifestyle, the way they think. She does all of this without making them seem inhuman...We are indeed much like everyone else. The story flows easy. The story means something, the story is the last breathe before one decides to give up.

This life thing surpasses beauty!

Heavy?

" How come it can't fly no better than a chicken?"
"Too much tail. All that jewelry weighs it down. Like vanity. Can't nobody fly with all that shit. Wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down."

Thank you Ms. Morrison - you know, for the words. As disturbing as they are - they are at the same time, in the same place and as the same moment powerful.

I picked "Song of Solomon" for my first Summer read. I wish that the second book I pick is as powerful, if not even more. A book that has surely evoked some type of whimsical thinking in my heart and mind. When I complete all the words that are listed in the 15 chapter book, I will blog about it again. For now, I will try to rid myself of all of the heavy shit that weighs me down.

Grace and Peace

Father's Day

It has been over ten years since he left this place. Left this place for something better, something new, something everlasting. I miss him truly and I believe that I will forever. Throughout the years of course time has eased the pain and the tension, but there are still some days when I can't help but welcome him into my heart. There are times when I refuse him, refuse to let him into my space or refuse to believe that he wants me to know that he is there.

Yesterday, however, he would not be refused. He barged his way into my heart and got comfortable in his regular place and slept there for awhile, threw a fit, hugged the inside places and then, without me knowing, took his leave and promised that he would be back.

I never know when or how often he chooses to visit me, as I have no say so in the matter. But the loss of him makes me think about what I gained after him and after I lost that it makes me think about what I gained after that. This life I lead is all a revolving circle, pulsating to the beat of my very own heart. A day with mixed feelings, it was. A heavy day, most times I try to contain the heavy - place it in a box - just so I know where it is and so it doesn't escape my grasp. Enslave the heavy so that it has no time to breathe, not a moment to live - but as my sister says sometimes shit just gets heavy. So yesterday I let the heavy live in my day and breathe all of its miseries and beauties out on me.

A day of clarity, it was. I had originally thought that something had gone terribly wrong with my emotions - I couldn't/wouldn't cry. Not even when I was overwhelmed by the feeling of catharsis. I remember being at church and made myself suppress the tears that dared to come forth. I thought that I had finally allowed my heart to grow cold and had become stiff as a board. When the tears dropped and the head began to swim and emotions began to flow like free water after a drought. I was reassured that I was alive and well, dwelling in the land of the living.

I think I will love for the rest of my life, give myself, present my words as gifts, share my dreams and foster the mis-guided. No need in me swimming in the dark, because if I knew that then I would have no clue as to where the deep end begins.

I must tell you all not to worry about me. This girl, will be fine. She will be! Simply BE!

See what happens to me on Father's Day. Now I have to try to fix a situation that I may have disassembled and don't have the instructions to put back together.

Thank You

Man, freedom/releasing feels good. I felt liberated. I felt like a teenager sneaking out the house to go and see a boyfriend that my father disapproved of. I had been on a 3 month vacation, I mean I could have I just didn't because it didn't feel right. I won't say that I needed to exahle, because that sounds too corny. I will say that needed to breathe - to let out some anxieties.

He called, I barley dressed and was out the door before any one could say two-holes in the floor!

I Remember My Love

(Ride With Me) - and I did and I would forever if I could. He was waiting for me outside of my house. How nice it felt for someone to come by and pick me up. How often had I been leery of men knowing where I lived or had been asked to meet them somewhere. He already knew where I would be - He had the address imprinted on his mind, knew how the street curved, knew what the yard looked like, knew what it smelled like outside, knew how the wind blew - he knew how to find me. (Ride With Me) - and I did and I would forever of I could.

My Close Love

He had me at "Hi". He held me close to him under his arm - where I felt my safest. I was close enough to hear his heartbeat, close enough to understand his mis-understandings, close enough to know that he has had a sad day, close enough to know his goals, close enough to know his most intimate feelings. He wanted to talk and I in return wanted to be talked to. He had me at "Hi".

I Miss My Love

"Home" felt good. Together we fused into one - one sculpture carved from the essence of true love. It felt like divinity and I knew that after it was gone I would miss it. This time, however, I felt liberation songs flow through my bones. At that time I was not scared of him, I did not fear what was to come and I did not regret any choice that I had made. It was there for me, put there for the taking. I needed him and he needed I - I think we always will. When he isn't there I look for him, a small hint of him in the bushes or hidden in the crevices. Once I get over my fear of him, I will be fine. Because "Home" feels good.

As for the night and all that it contained - Thank you, My Love, Thank you!

A Healing in The House

Grace and Peace

My prayer was that God reveal himself to her. That she continue to trust and believe that trouble don't last always and that somewhere in the mist of her storm, a cooling would arise and blessings would pour.

On this Sunday she accompanied me to church (Zion Cathedral). I knew that she would need to be administered to by someone who didn't believe that he was too holy to be human. On Sunday she had her breakthrough. The healing may begin.

Thank you Pastor Youngblood
Thank you God!

Grace and Peace