Broken

You ever been broken?

Like duct tape and gauze just won't help this time
this time around there's no solace in pressure applied
soulless eyes cringe in the glare of smiles
odd familiarities give birth to past similarities
the perforations that remain from the last episode
never completed healing in lieu of the homemade remedies and deep dishes of soup

all hope of uniformity is scattered with the wind
like the sheets of paper torn from it's bindings
left precariously laying around at the mercy of random mortals
once coherent thoughts have been robbed of their beginning and ends
drowning in a sea of middle stories that have no self sense
or self worth
or even self evidence

Broken

Like every truth is now victim to the stereotype
weighted with falsities before it is thought to leave the tongue
perceptions larger than your stomach
but so appealing to the eyes
you gladly choke it down in hopes of a distraction
all that is returned is a scorned heart, slightly burned

tattered around the edges
like a well worn hand me down
thick with the weight of past dealings
heavy with the scent of funky memories
jagged indiscretions tear at the seams
ripped out tags clearing all hopes in locating proper identity
so for all I know this doesn't even belong to me

Broken

Like the pieces have fallen so far to the floor
it's a weary thought to contemplate picking them back up again
put it all back together again
smile again
hope again
laugh again
dance again
sing again
dream again
love again
be again

Broken

Like maybe...just maybe this break is the one that's finally beyond repair...

(c)j.claude'09-Phoenix-

Past. Tense.

Do I need you because I love you
or love you because I need you
I need you
NEEDED you
freed from you
held hostage by these tears I screamed for you
the silence I cried for you
dripped down my walls and faded my existence to black
but I still want you back
cause I miss you
MISSED you
received life's greatest gift from you
but before I return it let me clean it off
rinse the blood from the steel that pierced my beating heart
got caught off guard
and when the music faded to noise
I got distracted turned clumsy
went to put the needle back in place
turned and you fit it all away
tucked in between that space where
anxieties are born and fears are made
and the fear of love killed my love that day
looked me in the face
denying any recollection of previous shared space
took back words the universe had already cashed
spent it on dreams of an endless future being caught up in our dance
seconds of romance moments of pleasure quietly stashed
between two heartbeats two minds and two entwined hands
all previously read thought evolve into lessons learned
toss the match so the book, the bridge, and the confession all may burn
and let it be known that I miss you
MISSED you
like my favorite song
hum you every now and then when I forget the words to sing along
never thought the day would come
that you'd no longer caress my palm between index and thumb
the day I'd no longer love you like this and uh like that and uh
the day I'd become the fortunate one
and I miss you
MISSED you
like a call I don't recognize
heard it was hate in your eyes
sealed your disguise and drove you to the lies
the past continuously eluding me driving the tension deep
I am reminded that I need you because I love you
LOVED you
every single moment before I drift off to sleep...

(c)j.claude'09-Phoenix-

And just like that...

I loved you past my pain
No matter the circumstance
I-and the universe-heard everything you ever said
And so I loved you
kissed your tears as if they were my own
mended your insecurities
loved you past my pain
made myself believe in this monstrosity
bottled it up deep down w/in my empty chasm
tucked it behind a wasted space
built it shelter
four walls
one ceiling
no sky
no escape
And I loved you
I loved you past my pain
latched onto every word that spilled past your tongue
empty letters dancing across my eyelids
caressing my lips
cascading the span of my hips
the reach of my fingertips
you gave me something to believe in
maybe just maybe I was worth this feeling
and I held on not knowing if I'd ever feel it again
allowed you break the only thing of value to me
cause I loved you
so much so that I forgot about me
and I got lost
lost gazing in your soul at my reflection
lost loving you
incredible amazing insightful being that I knew

...and for what it's worth
I loved you...
loved you past my own pain...
...and for what it's worth
I know I don't have to say it
but I thought you should know
I'm really...
finally...
free...


...think that about covers it...

--and just like that...the door slammed shut... ;o)

-j

Back of the Class [[My Therapy]]

I pen the cure to my delusions that deem me insane/most times though I leave the medication laying around content to let life's issues coarse through my veins/ and sometimes it builds up and puts pressure on my brain/so I have to tap the right spot and allow the buildup to drain/ and spill forth from eye lids over and over again/only to press rewind and run it back frame by frame/knowing I should stop I accept full blame/but I refuse to stomach a reliever when my inspiration is pain...-Phoenix



Back of the Class

Limping down the hall I heard the bell ring
And then it started, one tear...the next
slamming into the folds of my sweater
staining it forever
like thick oil spilt on leather
I made it to my classroom, hobbled to the station where the teacher ruled the herd
ready to explain myself but her pursed lips halted my thoughts mid word
Ms. Claude I told you one more tardy and one detention it would be
she pointed to the the box for me to check acknowledging I knew the "Rule of Three"
but the Bruises on my back wouldn't allow me to see
I was blinded by the memory of him yelling about something to eat
walked up and snatched my lunchbox leaning and dripping venom
Slanted eyes powered by a cursed mind like he had something in him
"Bitch, if anybody gonna have lunch in this house it's gonna be me"
Now I'm all confused focused on my 8yr old feet
constantly feeling guilty for being the burden on the beast
living in this house daring us to sleep
You see
I was taken out of a bad situation and placed into one worse
had to occasionally witness him beat her down for taking me in after my birth
and I never understood why God blessed her with such a curse
why she had to be the tight beat holding down the verse
me spending countless night bribing my maker to rewind time and make me a 'W' or a 'Z'
anything but a 'X' or a 'Y', and Yup, he can have all of these, this 'L' and 'I' and 'F' and 'E'
I didn't want to be the cause of her misery
I would rather have been miscarried or tossed as a seed
wrapped securely in latex incinerated as garbage along with other debris
it's nothing to me no face no name but my soul'd be free
and I'd never have to witness him conjure up this hit list
send it out like a memo assuring me that I was next
all because she did her best
moved some things around wracked her brain
to make sure my untimely appearance wouldn't lead to a life lived in vain
opened her heart and clothed my premature frame
kissed me at night like I supplied the blood pulsing through her veins
I recall standing there wondering what my nourishment would be
ready to forget it altogether didn't want to breach the "Rule of Three"
and to this day the following scenes still seem surreal to me
watched my Mother stand up and raise her fist before him and God
and scream, I will die before I let you hurt my daughter
not one word did she falter
and that day he took her up on her threat
pounded her with words accenting her makeup with his fists
beat her 'til her lips turned blue
she blinked twice, guess he saw Hell in them cause he beat that out of her too
I suppose my eyes've always been bigger than my stomach
cause I ingested that all so fast I was too full to see anything else coming
and my little 8yr old feet couldn't move fast enough to dodge his rage
taking one massive open hand and palming my head
ricocheting my tiny body off the end rail of her bed
the wood kissing the crease of my back last thing I saw was white then red
mixed with rays of sun bleeding through the blinds spilling across my arms chest and legs
hearing sobs of anger and dread
I remember praying maybe this time I'm really dead
maybe God would cut out her heart before the ache would metastasize and spread
maybe I wouldn't ever be put in this predicament again
having to wrap my arms around her at night while she pays for my sins
you can't convince me that I was young and full of innocence
I was the problem not the solution and for this there was a punishment
but true to form she pleaded to Jesus in my defense
and true to form I lived another day w/little visible evidence
of these mishaps or court reported incidents
except the Bruises on my back that wouldn't shut up and let me see
what that teacher was pointing at, acknowledging the "Rule of Three"
and because I was capable of no response
she classified me as defiant while I held my tongue taught
searching for a way to explain that this tardy wasn't my fault
tried sending a message from my soul but maybe she felt harassed
maybe if I paid her to listen, I had allowance money, cold hard cash
but to her I was just another miscreant..a statistic...young black and fast
She gave me no more thought she never even asked
Was simply content to sign on the dotted line and send me limping to the back of the class...

(c)j.claude'09-Phoenix-

How does a straigt line cross itself

Growing up, I was a wiz at math. I didn't like math, but I was a beast at it nonetheless. In a very general sense, I did well at all things Math, but senior year of high school (and then moving on to college) my favorite subsects were calculus & statistics. Call me geeky if you want, but there is a certain sense of satisfaction that comes along with finding "N" or "F" or any other varied problems dealing with those variables...you may be asking, why I'm rambling on about math...well, it was the immediate area of interest I stumbled across when I had to stop and ask myself, "how does a straight line cross itself??". In trigonometry, and geometry, the entire concept of "lines" is complex yet complete & pre-determined. There is no gray area between the beginning and the infinite ending to a straight line. A line starts at some point, and it will end at some determined or undetermined point--the point being the place that it stops...but, semantically speaking, a straight line will never cross itself. It may cross other lines, it may cross over circles, hey it might even cross a road!..but never itself. As it is on paper, as it is in relationships...and thus begins my thought process...

To give a brief background, over a year ago the conversation came up, between myself and a close female friend of mine, about relationships etc etc...in the midst of grilling me about the current "boo" I was in the process of getting rid of, she paused for a moment's thougt--and then, apparently, lost her mind. Or at least that's what I assumed when she said "I think you need to go ahead and get with *****". Now, ***** is good friend of mine and a mutual friend of the both of us. For simplicity sake, we'll call ***** "Mike"--his identity is not important to this topic, and so the name change should be of minimal interest. Meanwhile, back to my home gyrl lo0sing her mind...after staring at her in confusion for a minute or two, she told me to shut my mouth because she was serious. I told her thanks for her interest in my interests, but I'm good, he's a great friend, don't wanna ruin that blah blah blah blah...well, as the year passed, she periodically said things such as:
"You talked to Mike?"
"How's Mike?"
"Why don't you wanna get with Mike?"
"How do you know he doesn't wanna get with you??"
"You might be breaking his heart...*smh*"
"Well, I think you guys would be great together!!"
"I'm dead a** girl!!! Why won't you listen?!!"
(and the comments became more and more emphatic from that point)...I think she thought that I wasn't serious b/c she then took it upon herself to tell HIM about her feelings regarding my lack of feelings about her feelings about me having reserved feelings about catching and acting upon feelings toward Mike. Soooo...yeah, I found out a little later that she went off on this tangent, and Mike was as seemingly as confused as me blah blah yada yada...short story shorter, I broached the subject with Mike, and said somethin along the lines of "...you have to be careful crossing that friendship line..."...or something of that nature--and he responded in like but then added on[for good measure] "...matter fact, you don't cross that line, you let that line cross itself!!" And now we're back...to my original topic of interest. How does a straight line cross itself? Can it cross itself?? Is that possible??
Should I care??!!!

**Le Sigh**

I really want an answer...when is it ok, in a meaningful friendship, to sacrifice the value of precious time and kindred spirits for the potential worth of a beautiful relationship?? Who says a beautiful relationship can't just be precious time and kindred spirits?? Coming up on 25, I've never felt such a strong willed sense of protection over my friendships as I do now...I can count my true friends on my limbs...and I only have four of those (I'll throw in my 2 ears to complete the circuit, but after that everything starts looking like associates etc)...I digress, meanwhile, this topic has me in a state of slight confuglement [thank you...I made that word up all by myself]...as ridiculous as it may sounds, or petty as it may be, it has me concerned...and plus this is my blog so, I really don't care about perceptions at this point lol...but yeah, back to the point...I remember moving from high school into college with the mentality that friendships make great relationships. In my mind it seemed soooo much more convenient to progress from a state of comfortableness and familiarity and add that dash of romance to see where it goes...well, I quickly learned that, as a female I may see the roses in that thought process, but the male friends were not as positive...Me being ditzy and playing the role of "good friend" has, in turn, cost me some near and dear friendships...granted, the collapse of the situation wasn't always my fault, but I still failed to ignore the warning signs of our demise, and so the pain was extremely worse than it should have been...

It has taken me some time but I have FINALLY figured out some (if not all) of the problem...generally speaking a male and a female who become platonic friends may become that way for a few reasons...they were dating other people and met...they met during class/study groups/organizational volunteering etc and the idea of a relationship was the farthest thing from his/her mind OR she's a female (he's a male) he's/she's not initially attracted to by any means, but that person is full of insight, they have alot in common and at the end of the day they make a great friend. Frienships like this are the most dangerous, because

Seeing as how we, as human beings, are not islands, friendship is essential to our souls...so it's only natural that an endearing, close, intimate, (non-physical, but emotional) frienship escalate between two people who have things in common...only problem is, catching feelings becomes increasingly more easy to do because, as two people in contact with each other, you have built the entire foundation of a blossoming relationship on the back of a so-called friendship. So, I'm really starting to see that, men & women can't be friends at a consistant level, doing consistant things, being consistant with each other w/o the side effects of feelings showing up...there has to be lulls in the friendship...quality time can't be spent...sometimes you may have to resort to being phone-a-friends...friendship at a distant for the sake of the akward feelings etc etc...

Having said ALL of that I'm back to my original thought...How does a straight line cross itself? And the anwer is simplym, it doesn't cross itself...two people have to decide that they are gonna step down from one path and step onto another, albeit in a different direction, it's anonther straight line in it's own right...and that is a really hard answer to deal with...it's easy to get hurt when dealing with friendships of this nature. More often than not, it's the female who catches feelings, but it's not until the male starts to sense it, that things can go hay wire...

I really hate having a question I don't have a solid answer to...but then again, what's an answer w/no acknowledgement it in the first place?? Just words to fill a space...that's kind of how I feel about platonic frienships sometimes...they are just there to fill a space...nothing more...nothing less & to ask such would be foolish on my part... =o/

Such is life...<3

-j

Celibacy Blues [[remix]]

**In my last post, I threw some words together, and they-in turn- sparked the fire of a piece I feel like I should finish...**

Celibacy Blues

Eyes flew open
fingertips glazed w/heat
Sweat trickled down my spine
Sheets soaked in your memory
and everywhere your tongue had traced
the fire seemed to set ablaze
burning at a delicious pace
right down to the core of me
feeling me needing me tearing away pieces of me
breathing in all that's left of me
drinking in my energy
sparing no amenity
found my lips wrapped around the life giving center
dreamt in color
high definition
digested your future
snagged a wrinkle in time
successfully succeeded in seeing past your mind
faint cries turn to whimpers
as I gorge at a leisurely pace
endearing embrace
heartfelt accomplishment
purposely losing this race
play roles
roles trade
contentedly tired from the role play
remembering nothing is ever as we say
will try fighting it, in vain, for another day
misplaced intentions led astray
eager ambitions complacent under our strict array
for every thing its proper place
and you managed to put it all away
snugly fit between the private space
where thighs and common sense had once embraced
but soon made haste and parted ways like distant friends
And from sweltering silence only your name escapes
entrusted and spoken thru honey soaked lips
sweet sentiments product of fingers and their fire soaked tips
and a crass slick tongue embedded between fire breathing hips
still burning from the singe marks your hands left with its prints
and we linger there
perfect fit
I painted you in color full of vibrant hues
eyes flew open
sheets soaked in your memory
held hostage by these Celibacy Blues...-(c) 2009 Phoenix

Celibacy Blues

At one point I swore before all of the green M&M's in the world that I would never resort to blogging, singing, spittin' lyrics or even speaking up in public about my very private emotional/spiritual/physical negotiations & overall dealings with Celibacy. Well...I'm glad I didn't swear to anything worthwhile, b/c today is the day that I get down with the Get Down and get down to getting down [on this blog] the thing(s) I need to say regarding the subject [as it pertains to me]...

Just so we're clear, I blame my Mother...for not telling me the truth. Growing up all I heard was "wait until you're married", "You'll go to Hell if you fornicate..." etc...In my world, fornication was right up there with Arson, child theft, and other villainous acts against society. What I needed to hear was: "Sex hurts...really great...so to avoid the Blues...just wait" Now really, was that so hard??? **sigh** I can't lie and say that the fear of damnation and hell-fire that'd been beaten into me did not deter me from all things sex. I was 22 & almost out of undergrad before I even thought about wandering down that road...meanwhile, I can't lie and say that I share the story of millions of other women around the world who swear their first time was heinous/dull/painful/boring etc...I actually experienced two first times...(no, seriously...okay, I know, just bear with me)...the first time was comparable to reading thru a medical terminology book...a bit listless, bearabley painful, but I did eventually make it to the last word on the last page. Mmmm, now, my second first time was erotic enough to make even Zane blush *looks around* ::all this reminiscing is making me a lil...:: Meanwhile, It wasn't until my first bout of celibacy that I came face to face w/the Blues. Now, for many women this can come in different strengths ranging from mild to severe. Usually it all depends on what kind of jackpot you hit before you decided to become celibate. For the sake of keeping this blog as clean as possible, I'll simply say, "jackpot" refers to the caliber of sex you are having/have ever had. Every women is different, and what works for one may not even phase the other, but if you're fortunate you will hit your "jackpot" one day, and wish like **** you had stayed a virgin. My bestie and I had a discussion once and we came up with the phrase "hitting the bottom". To explain, basically, if you meet a man, and you slip up and unlock Pandora's Door [*PAUSE* praise the powers that be, she no longer has a box, she has moved up to that dee-luxe apartment in the sky, yes-sah!!], but yeah, unlock her door and let that ni**a hit the bottom, and you won't have to worry about opening a box or door or anything else...it's gonna get bust down and all Hell is gonna break loose. Next thing you know everything he own is in your name, ya'll got two kids, you got one job and he got the situation on lock like a Boston Market Meal-Family Sized [main meal+ two extra sides]...just ALL bad ((thank you Usher))...

Anywho, to bring it back personal and in my face, I'm almost positive that I hit my jackpot and stayed with it pretty early on...not only was I new to the whole "I'm not a virgin" thing but I ended up having my innocent self turned all the way out not too long after I left the V-Card on the nitestand. It's fair to say, my first case was severe...and by severe, I don't mean, daydreams or anything petty like that....No, I mean "knocked out to the world and waking up at two and three o'clock in the AM in cold sweats" kind of severe--"body burnin' up to the touch while searching for my penpad and scribing the prescription to my illness" kind of severe...:

...and everywhere your tongue had traced
the fire seemed to set ablaze
burning at a delicious pace
right down to the core of me
feeling me needing me tearing away pieces of me
breathing in all that's left of me
drinking in my energy
sparing no amenity
for every thing its proper place
and you managed to put it all away
snugly fit between the space
where thighs and common sense had once embraced
but soon made haste and parted ways like distant friends
And from sweltering silence only your name escapes...-Phoenix

And just like that, I was diagnosed with the Celibacy Blues...

That being said, you'd think I'd built up anti-bodies to fight this infection if it ever peeped it's ugly head again. Sadly enough, that's not the case...I have caught the Celibacy Blue's again and there's nothing I can take to ease the tension/irritation/achy feeling triapsing thru my body...[Well, there's some natural oral remedies, but that's like downing a coughdrop when there's a brand new bottle of Nyquil right in the cabinet ;o) ] ugggghhh...

*side note--> before I continue, I want to point out that I'm not being celibate for fun. Although I am versed in the art of sex, I don't want to involve myself in the dance anymore until I'm married. Long gone are the days of wanting to be the next Terri McMillan story, or sitting around sharing my Zane experience w/homegyrls. If I can't hold out until marriage, it has to be with someone whom I love. Period. I'd get down to expounding upon that, but that's a different blog for a different day...<--end note*


Don't get me wrong...it's not that I'm not excited to be delving on this journey of spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical reconnection...again...It's just that sometimes, I am convinced my body really didn't get the memo. My vagina betrays me at times and tends to just detach herself and run off, like we haven't been tight all these years (heh heh heh...pun DEFINITELY intended)...but I digress. Yeahhh...she got a taste of that good-good and she just be actin' up...at work, in church, in the mall, driving, working out, sleeping...doesn't really matter where...she act out like those kids on SuperNanny (or whatever that show is on ABC about grown children who can't control their non-adult parents...)...unfortunately for me, I have those disciplinarians that come along, from time to time, and want to put her in her place...beat her down one good time...you know--"hit the bottom"...and then all Hell breaks loose again and...well, you see where this is going. Body just isn't working with me...and the Blues are handing it to me this time around..tried going back to find my V-Card I left on that nitestand so long ago...but all I got was a Canal Street knockoff...and let me assure you, bootlegged Virginity just isn't what it's advertisized to be...

So yeah, I blame my Mother...True, she raised me well, taught me manners, lived as a role model, & kept my immunizations up to date as I grew into my teens approaching adulthood...but she never told me sex could hurt so good...never supplied me w/logical reason to wait...never warned me of this age old infection going around...never told me to look out for Celibacy Blues...

-j

Round Midnight...

"...it begins to tell round midnight...memories always start round midnight, haven't got the the heart to stand those memories..." -Thelonius Monk


As a singer/poet/writer/songwriter I find myself completely naked 87% of the time--these times usually occurring while I'm enveloped in my element. Now, I don't mean naked as in I like walking around my house naked and singing [as liberating as that sounds]...naw, I mean my soul is continually being stripped bare and exposed for the world to see when I get up on stage and do my thing...and the most exposing is the poetry....

In the grand scheme of things, I have convinced myself that, not only am I a target for Pain's grueling assaults, but I'm built for it...it's my inspiration...my drug...


I'm on it like an IV drip pulsing thru my veins
Systematically scrape my fingers across any given page
Bleed out the cure to calm my rage
Collect it and perpetuate it right back thru...
I'm addicted.Can't Kick it.The Cycle Continues -Phoenix


Until I leave the stage/put the pen down/close my laptop, then I'm still left bare and cold and forced to look at this bruised shell housing these memories...and the self reflecting always seems to start 'round midnight'...haven't got the heart to stand them sometimes[the memories]. Now, as necessary as it may be, self reflection for me is a ridiculously painful process which usually results in tears and a headache (and not necessarily in that order) . You have to understand, my independent nature has routinely shaped me into a machine. Machines don't have emotions, they just do...oil them up, work out the kinks and keep it moving. I am, however, not a machine and I think the only one surprise by this revelation was me. In hindsight (along w/me being virtually emotionless) my years leading up to my twenties consisted of me picking up lots of baggage. Bags of all shapes and sizes...totes, clutches, saddlebags, hobo bags etc...but these bags are getting heavy and so it's really time to let some things go.

At this point and time, I've finally found the first BIG thing that I'm leaving at 24. 25 will not see me wasting borrowed time over my issues with my parental units. To oblige you with a bit of background--> I have a biological Mother, and a Biological Father and they are both irresponsible...so much so that I've since snatched their titles and relabeled them my 'Egg' & 'Sperm' Donors (respectively)... and as angry as I am that they are just two grown kids, the thing that has hurt me the most is that neither one of them want me...one of them gave me away & the other gave me away, kidnapped me, gave me back, came back, dragged me along thru the court system for about 6 yrs of my life than disappeared etc... growing up, I stayed close to the family I had that loved me and the wonderful Mother I do have in my life, but I don't think--no, I KNOW I never got over that neglect. Someone asked me today, why adopted kids always wanna know about their original parents. I think, for me, it was b/c I actually know my Biologicals on a first name basis and have thusly taken it very personal that they don't like me enough to love me enough to want to [at least] sit down and talk to me on a consistent basis...it's not like I'm lacking in conversation. I can go from 'playoffs' to 'music production' to 'makeup' w/in seconds...I'm like a buffet--something for everybody!! ::sigh:: So yeah, I've been letting my heart bamboozle my mind into truly believing [more so hoping] that one day they will approve...gosh, I don't know-prolly never will know-why it's so important to me that they give me their nod of validation...Meanwhile, today is monumental b/c I've finally come to terms with the fact that, My Egg & Sperm Donor may NEVER get right...they may never validate me...they may never call me again...they may never even acknowledge my features when they look in the mirror at night...and that's okay...and No, it's not ok for Phoenix (the poet) or for the j.claude up on stage singing her heart out or for the Jen holding the hands of those in need around her--but for Jennifer...me...just-mE...the me that curls up on my couch every single night clutching Tigger tight and praying that the dry season comes soon (more Sun, less tears)...the me asking God to spare me one more day so I can prove to him that I'm thankful for what I do have...the me that wants to focus less on what I am missing...the me that wants to be loved for all of my flaws and past my pain. I'm tired or breathing it in...getting my quick fix...blurring out my reality and replacing it with a myriad of fallacies painted up to resemble the best of my past and the worse of my future...

But yeah, today I officially started living. It hurts...but most healing processes are uncomfortable...and altho I 'haven't got the heart to stand these memories', I know I'll keep them filed away...I still need the inspiration...still gotta get naked...still gotta see this bruised shell housing these memories...gotta see Me [for my past] and love Me [into my future]...and I'm okay with that. Matter of fact I'm starting to look forward to meeting up w/Ole Midnight again--and in the not too distant future even. You know, catch up a bit. Usually busy around lunch...it'll have to wait til after suppertime. Prolly later on into the evening. Round about midnight... or, you know, something like that... ;o)

-j

Well since you asked...

To get real serious about it, I've held hands and broken bread w/Love twice, And both times we parted ways but under different circumstances. See, Love and I are friends, and I don't blame the player I blame the game for bringing our interactions to a temporary standstill. Too many "get out of jail free cards", we got distracted and took the long way in "Life", popped a double and screamed out "TROUBLE" but had no "Clue" where to find the letters needed to un-"Scrabble" the entire situation so we were left standing in our separate corners lookin' quite dumb waiting on the other to stop the cruel "Monopol"-ization of the heart. Unrecognizable "Guesture"s and unneeded "Outbursts" left us riddled with doubt & mistrust and then the war began...we manned our stations on either ends of our "Battleship"s and it was all downhill from there.

But like I said I blame the game. The countless hours of multi media broadcast that formulate the dribble we happily lap up at a moment's notice. Teaching us the art of looking, finding, and securing the "ideal" Love before becoming the ideal Love ourselves...and not to say 'ideal' has bones to do with superficiality, but dealing with the crux of numerous issues such as trust, lack of communication, honesty, truth etc...taking the time to wipe the dust from the many facets of our lives such as mental/emotional/psycholog

ical/spiritual/physical health before laying fingertip on someone else's menagerie seems to be so much easier said than done...and as much as it doesn't want to be heard, I take great joy in saying that, as much as I am a feminist, I am a logical thinker and Ladies, these "if, then" situations we knowingly put ourselves into does not help our case when pleading with Love not to make it's sudden grand exit stage left [Myself included!] Case in point: "IF" his Character & Actions speaks volumes about him, "THEN" stop the foolery of asking everyone else's opinion b/c you already know...Character & Action are best friends and I will rock with them til the end. They are always on time, and on one accord w/the other etc and so on and so forth.

Meanwhile, with me & Love being so cool and all, I can go ahead and let you in on a few things Love told me itself...Love is not a clinic [don't show up if you're sick] it's not a repair shop [don't rock w/it if you're broken] it's not a Krispy Kreme [don't stop through for that quick fix]...but the beauty of love is that it has a duality clause that says, once you're there, all in the mix Twix'in w/Love, it has healing properties to aid you during those sniffly times...and it's pretty darn adhesive & does wonders w/patching things up...and sometimes-just sometimes-when you've done all you can and are fed up to HERE it'll be that comfort food that makes it ALL better... ;o)

To get down to the reason behind this very random blurb, today someone asked me what love was, in my eyes...to me, It's a process that requires time effort and dedication and many other individualistic amenities...it's hard to be general when no two people, in any one relationship, experiences the same make/model/color of Love... but one thing is very certain, Love, in all of it's complexity, simply remains the same. It's a road that does not wither or crack or lead to dead ends...it's an age old game, new players same rules: Love is patient, it is kind, it does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs[1Cor13:4]...to me, these rules govern personal aspects and situations that won't and can't apply to any other woman I know b/c every woman is different...I think we just all want to be loved generally, in different aspects of the word, by any means necessary, depending upon what we specifically need when we wake up in the morning...and we will, in turn, reciprocate..with all of our heart, by any means necessary and in every sense of the word...and then...you pass "Go", collect $200, and...win ;o)


-j

Humanity & it's Complex

Humanity & It's Complex

You're crazy if you think you know the truth about the persons
standing in front of you.
You're crazy if you think you don't.

You see, irregular erroneous outrageous comments once led me to believe that feigning emotional apathy was the inherent popular behavior of choice.

And I sought to figure out why such multi-faceted minds & bodies sacrificed such beautiful hearts&souls for immediate gratification with such long term repercussions;
taking no lessons from the past, expecting no faith [being the substance of things hoped for] from the future.

The activist in me screams out for equal rights to choose, and wants the world to know that the seediest of opinions matter because every single body is deserving of the opportunity to speak the fullness of their mind's contents to their heart's content.

I am aware, however, that misguided souls tend to spew forth the poison that's been breast fed thru their nurture, enveloped by their nature, shaped by their ignorance's & set on fire by their liberties.

So the activist in me is quelled...for now.

And as my ranting & raving grows beyond my control, I begin to understand that behind the words are the lies made up of blurred truths, held together by realities that have been fortified with misconceptions and buttressed with muddled idiosyncrasies.

So yeah...the activist in me has nothing left to say.

No man is an island, yet every man is an island.

That being said, I cannot knowingly support ignorance as an excuse...I do however pray God's grace & blessings upon the the humanity behind irrational decisions.

Why, you ask?

You see, irregular erroneous outrageous comments once led me to believe that feigning emotional apathy was the inherent popular behavior of choice.

But at the end of the day, with our faces in our hands, we all just want to be loved, by any means necessary, in every aspect of the word.



peace&love
j.claude