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New Project

Now that I've only begun to get wet behind the ears of being published, and I'm starting to see some where I need to make some serious changes and step up my writing, now that I'm starting to see some accomplishments and inspiration from the second book. Time to start moving forward with my third book of poetry project.

What I'm looking at doing is something that suggested to me a long while ago. And I thought it woulf be fun to incorporate those ideas to see what I would come up with.

By that, it's going to be a little different from what I've been used to doing, and I'm receiving lots of inspirations. Therefore my next project is going to be...well, let's just say it's going to be very, very nice, if not impressive at best. A little bit of something-something if you will. I'm excited just by talking this much about it.

Some of the most recent poems here on this blog from last year are a sneak peak of what'll be in the new book.

Black in America

The world will close their eyes to me.
My voice will go unheard.
My tears will go unseen.
My cries will be silenced by the absence of compassion
For I am
Black in America.

A woman,
Fighting to climb my way
Out of a box
No bigger than the space I am standing in,
Spending hour after hour saying
"Yes, sir."
"No, sir."
"Thank you, sir."
Just to collect a paycheck that is
Far below my worth.
I do not make a fuss.
I do not complain.
I do not make reference to my disagreement
Of pay.
It is what feeds me.
It is what keeps me warm at night.
It is what keeps a roof over my head.
It is what puts clothes on my back and shoes on my feet.
It is my life line to surviving being
Black in America.

You will not find me on a corner
Begging for a handout.
For someone to pay my way through a society
That's already deemed me ignorant
From the day I was born.
I have lived by a pride
That's taught me the essence of strength.
The equality of life.
It's given me character,
An identity of self.
An individuality to live beyond the barriers of being
Black in America.

This new generation will rewrite the
Star Spangle Banner,
And "Freedom Ring" will become more
Than just a verse in a song.
I will tell of my glory days when taking a stand for being
Black in America
Will draw out discrimination and the irony of prejudice thinking
And put them to rest forever.
And through our eyes we will all see Jesus as one color,
Where compassion for all mankind
Will reign supreme.

I'll pull my hair into a pony tail,
Roll up my sleeves to live to fight another day,
For the strength and will power
To climb out of this box and be
Recognized for the woman I was put here to be.
Not some body else's idea of an unimagined fantasy,
But to be me,
The woman the world chose to leave behind.
I will grab the prize...That which was always mine.
To be the new color of the rainbow,
And others will wish they could share the
Skin I'm in being
Black in America.

Blog: Poetically Violated

Poetry's become a huge part of how I express myself. I grew up sort of in a sheltered environment where I was kept closed-minded to a lot of things I should have been exposed to, but then again exposed to all the things I should have been kept away from. I don't ever remember being told how to defend myself, speak up for myself, be a strong person, therefore some of the things I've learned growing up I've picked up on my own along the way.

Sometimes my mind acts like its own literary press and you'll always find me jotting down something that popped into my head...if I don't put it down on paper right then, whether it's a paper towel, napkin, back of an old envelope, scratch sheet of paper...whatever I can get my hands on, the poem is gone in a flash and I've lost the train of thought just that fast.

I've learned a new term, "Poetically Violated," and it comes from some reading back and forth I've been doing and from having heard about Larry Jaffe's book, that it came to me. It basically means to me, being caught in a translucent state of being, when words are swimming in your mind forming a once in a lifetime poem that you must grab in an instant once the very existence of that poem becomes real. The pen moves while your mind glides over the paper.

Today I see poetry in a whole new light. As I plan for my third book to come alive, it will dance with words playing tunes it's never heard before. "Imperfections." Yep, that's what I'm calling it. It was going to be "Imperfections of a Poet," but I thought..."hmm, why not just shorten and let it play on the minds of would be readers. Then again I could call it, "Poetically Violated." That, too has a nice ring to it.

Anyway, it's 3:38 a.m. on a Sunday morning, November 23. What's got me sitting here at the computer pecking away at the keys? The irony of rejection.

Wanting to Call You Mine

I wanted to call you mine.

In a whisper to say I love you.

But you could not consider my feelings

Enough to warrant me your heart,

So into the dark shadows of your mind

I returned silently

Only to reminisce over what could have been

Our tomorrow’s future.

I wanted to call you mine.

My lover. My friend. My all. My companion.

Explore the regions of a love,

Expanding over a time

That would take us on a never ending journey,

A love that could never be removed,

But you could not meet me half way

To take me by the hand and lead me

To a place to be at your side.

I don’t want to spend endless nights

Sitting in a chair

Staring at a screen wishing what could be

But will ultimately never be.

I wanted to call you mine.

But you’ve made me ashamed to

Open my mouth.

I second guess everything I wanted to say to you.

To ask of you.

My hands trembled when they go to

Touch your skin.

I’ve succumb to a world of wonderment,

Insecurities that were once forbidden.

I live in fantasies of what have become

My ideal life with you.

This is the realm you’ve driven me to

With your selfish thinking and

Inconsiderate way of walking through your days.

I wanted to call you mine.

And yet I cry at the very thought of

Rejection and the level of anger

It bears on me.

You make me feel ugly. Unattractive.

Ashamed to walk in the public eye.

And yet my heart and soul

Aches for your to be near me.

But I am nothing more than a

Mere speck of dust,

A thought buried

In the far regions of your mind.

You probably don’t remember my name

Unless it’s spoken.

Unless your own desires need to be serviced.

I would probably fade from your mind

If there were no pictures to remind

You of who I am.

I wanted to call you mine.

Even if I’m never to be yours.

I’d happily take the back burner

Of your mind,

I’ve been there before.

Oh, yes, we’ve become good friends

Over this time of questioning

Where with you I actually stand.

And how many times will I let you

Tear at my heart,

And strike down my emotions?

I blame myself for letting love

Blindside me in the wake of

Feeling the need to be loved

By someone whom I thought

Could nurture me. Love me.

Protect me.

Desperate was I

To want something I should have known

Would never truly be mine

When so many others who have

Come before me have had

More from you than I will ever have.

I wanted to call you mine.

And yet,

I’m left with nothing but an

Imagination tainted by

A dream that’s never to come true.

Have You Been Blessed Today?

Did you know you could be blessed by talking to another person who is moved by the teachings of the word of God? It's true! My friend, Renee and I had a conversation with a co-worker who is also our friend named Vincent, 21. Today we learned that he is a born again Christian and one with many gifts which he credits to the Lord for his life being turned around. I was especially blessed to have talked with him because he spends his time working with the youth through his many talents, including music and art. He uses his gifts to teach youth about God, reading the bible and shares scriptures with them. He never leaves home without reading the bible and praying. It was a reminder of how God can lead us where we should be in our lives, and that it is up to us to go there and be thankful that God has lead us. And it is a reminder that God is real and as we keep our lives in in hands, and give him praise, the blessings are many.

You will never see a frown on his face because he walks and talks with God on a dail basis and tries to live biblically everyday as best he can. To date he has lead three young people to God and gives God the glory, rather than crediting himself. As a youth pastor, he tells his youth group that they should be conscience of what they say and how they say it, and that their sins find themselves back to them. He enjoys poetry, music, art, christian griffiti and using his talents to talk to the youth in a language they can understand.

If we look at how our youth are being brought up in today's society, it's frightening to see the path that so many of them are heading. And the question becomes what do we do to intervene before it's too late to get through to them.

Having said that, I have been inspired to begin work on poetry book number three, "Walk With Me." But don't look for it for another two years. It's going to be a book in the making after my first novel.

Book, "Sins of a Poet"

Ok, everybody, here comes another book of poetry. This book is by far one of the edgiest books I've written with, what some have said are, eyebrow-raising, thought provoking poems. It's just me flipping the switch on poems I have used to writting, coming from the "hopeless romantic" person, to a person coming out of a shell. I wanted to do something different.

In comparison to, One Voice, A Thousand Words of Music, this next book I can say is going to blow the first book out of the water. Not just in the poems itself, but the overall look of the book. Writing this book is definitely a challenge because it meant getting away from the lovey-dovey type poems, and getting into the nitty gritty of reality and growing up as a woman and as a mother. Looking at life in a different perspective and not taking love for granted, but for what it is, and realizing it's not about fun and games and that you don't get everything handed to you on a silver platter. Face it, there those harsh realities that we all have to face at one time or another.

How this book will actually be embraced once it hits the streets? I honestly can't say. It's not even finished, yet, and I am already nervous...but in a good way. With that said, the poem already posted on this blog is just a taste of poems to come. Look for other sneak previews!