It's Hard to Say Goodbye

Love Letters to the AM.

They have been kicking my ass for the past weeks; no stress though, I'm a born fighter. Nevertheless, this morning I felt it-the pain, the horrible regulation of my eating habits, and sleepless nights wondering when they were coming again. Them, they it, school, work, technology- and everything else that may come between; but like I said, I am a born fighter. Therefore I "suck it up," keep it moving, listen to my soothing music, try to take baths instead of showers (when time permits), indulge in a glass of wine, and speak to God more.

I think it is working most days... but the end is near and my body knows that it will soon be able to rest, and I think it may be disappointed at the possibility of my future pleasure.

Hands unknowingly writing love letters to 3 am, if we ever meet again on these terms, I need you to know, I... well I really don't know how to say it, but I, I love you. Come hither soon, push those buttons, hold my eyes open; know that I am waiting, because without you I would have peace.

Religious, Maybe?

Religious, Maybe? (Am I Really Single # 2)

I never knew he was the religious type, until he told the people at the bar I was his lady. Speaking what is not, as if it were...

Last conversation we had, I minimized us to lust. Told him, sexy, intelligent, spiritual and all, I'm good. You cannot give me what I want. My conclusion was cool though, I have a lot on my plate, entertaining a male companion is not in my schedule... not yet at least.

Even with no desire to "have" him, he was looking quite pleasing to my eyes last night. I tried to do the head nod and keep it moving; but, he wasn't having that. Grabbed my arm, pulled me in-- for a hug. (Yeah he's grabbing again...no kiss this time-he's learning, even if it is at his own pace.) Hugs, are cool, I'm a hugger. Anything beyond that with no "true attachment" to you, is a problem. But I guess I didn't make a big enough fuss last go 'round with this cat.

Or maybe I did, time passed, I had a few drinks and I made my way to and almost from the ladies room without an incident. That was, until someone tried to holla... twice. He was "Watching" me, and he definitely wasn't having that. So to mark territory that he never marked, he approached this man, and simply said, I guess you didn't get the picture... this is my lady!

So of course the questions I asked myself when evaluating my single state resurfaced. What have I said or done to give him the impression that it's cool to claim me? I chucked it up to religion-- he must know his Word.

A Minute (Editorial Style Edition)

I did not mind the ring; especially since I was reduced to eye contact. I could not touch, I could not taste, but I could look. And I knew it had been far too long since I’ve seen someone worth staring at, so I allowed my eyes to summarize his physique, gave my thoughts space to wonder and simply licked my lips. Slowly.

His returned look was pleasant; warm and righteous, even if but for a minute. He wanted to know me. Remembered his vows, but he wanted to recite them to me just to see if after all these years he would smile the same way at me. Me, his wife that he never met or married but dreamed of understanding— the curves, moist spots, imperfections and thought process. He wanted to live in my thoughts, and I wanted to live in his, slowly. Even if only but for a minute.

Chewing the Feet Off

Yet another "exhaling moment" about the state of Black America. (Applies to all races, but hits home for me)


I thought I knew disappointment. When my mother took a break from buying me my barbies, because I would chew the feet off, I was disappointed. Once she began to buy them again, and coined them as "collector's items" I was disappointed. I had more growing to do before I could appreciate her "investment."

Now, at a stage where I am taking on my own responsibilities and am no longer chewing the feet off of my barbies, I still experience disappointment. Yes within my life at times, but that is not the point of this blog. I am sadden with the state of females today. The young ones, the mother's who raised them, and the mother's who raised them.


I see generations go in and out of the office seeking assistance for one to eight children (sometimes more) and themselves. With at times an educational level that hasn't passed the 9th, or even worse, the mother has completed the 11th grade. One more year to go. Pop the baby/babies out, apply for assistance, and never go back to school.


Policy states one particular person, cannot receive any form (financial or food supplement/stamps) assistance for more than 60 months (5 years) and in this 5 years you should be able to get your act together and provide for self and child/children. 5 years! Are you serious?? I have never been the one to like a "hand-out" but I do realize help is needed at some point; but at what time do we say enough is enough, let me teach you to fish.


Then I'll have the customers who come in, yelling, "What am I supposed to do, I can't feed my kids!" Every bit of me wants to say, Do the same thing I'm doing... Work! But I can't so I silence my actual thoughts because they may find their way out... and try to help them feed their kids.


Summary:


I am in no way discrediting all, but many that I come across in my line of work cause me to carry a burden. One that I am not built to bear, nor would I like to, but as a passionate person I am not able to turn my emotions off and on simply because I don't know the person on an intimate level. I care for them and what they represent, that, being me, and am left disappointed and wanting more.


*(Not disclosing my exact job title intentionally)

Three Hours

Going off of three hours of sleep, and trying not to lose a beat.

With work, school, personal projects and leisure time, I find myself quite exhausted. "Everyone" says, you can sleep when you die; but I think I would at least like to be well rested enough now, to enjoy my today. But when can I sleep? Will I ever get eight hours in, and truly feel refreshed?

Where did my naps go? I use to be able to take a nap a day, but now, I'm lucky if I get a nap every two weeks.

After work the other day, I wanted to get a manicure, and a pedicure. For whatever reason I decided to come home... and take a shower... and, without being planned, quite the shower, I took a nap. Passed out on my bed, still dripping slightly, with a towel covering me.

Tired doesn't begin to explain what I was experiencing. And I have the nerve to want a second job! But money talks right, and bills have the potential to go to collections if you don't pay them... So, I guess for now, I'll take three hours of sleep opposed to none, and push forward in the A.M.!

A Father's Love

So I finally watched the movie Taken!

I loved it; the passion, the intensity, the calculated but careless violence. I loved it all. This movie shows the lengths a father is willing to go to save the life of his child.

A definite must see.

Trailer:

http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi3488219417/

"Best Scene:" As coined on a search:

Tested Twice

When did the black youth and adults forget we have something to prove?



Not just to their counterparts, some of which may still not see them as equal, but to themselves.

In the face of death and ridicule the Tuskegee Airman not only excelled but made history in the process.



The racism was not over the top in the movie; in fact, it was watered down. Major Joy (Christopher McDonald) decided that because these black men did exceptionally well on their entrance exam, something had to be wrong. There had to be a fluke. So he requested they be tested again. Second round scores, all 94 and above if I'm not mistaken, with many scores of 100. These men did not complain, and say oh, we already took the test... they simply blew it out of the water- a second time.


Now some members of the black race no longer care to challenge themselves.

They are sadly content.

I Won't Own You! (Editorial Style Edition)

Ingrained in most men is the desire to be providers and protectors. When a woman takes this from a man, even in a brief moment, the equilibrium of the universe is thrown off. Men begin to wonder, am I a really a man? Quite like the lions and tigers in the zoo, they get confused because they are forced into an “environment” that they (men, lions, and tigers) are not use to.

But indeed, as years have gone and come, times have also changed. It is no longer a statement of independence, but one women recognize as not being indebted to anyone. Although many men and woman look at the dating process as an investment, there are some who can only identify giving with receiving. Thus, protective nature is created for both men and women.

It wasn’t until out on a date with a potential, that I found out I was slowly falling into an independent role, as well as one that didn’t want to owe anyone. So as I offered to pay for the movies, he looked perplexed and said “it's twenty dollars, I won’t own you.”

"We Pray For Things Like This"

I cannot remember the exact television episode or even the show, but the words are stuck in my ear. We Pray for Things Like This. This, being the ironic murder of a man in the Guinness Book of World Records Museum.

The manager at the location asked if the body could stay, or if he could at least take pictures before they moved the body. Not thrown off by the question alone, but also the sincerity of it; the detective just looked at him, in silence then continued to do his job.

We Pray for Things Like This. Yes, he clearly said these words. Didn't not take the time to pull the detective aside, or even whisper. He was not ashamed.

This statement caused my mind to run. Are we praying-discreetly, or unashamed for a come up even if it may be at the cost of bringing someone down. Although I know this is just tv, I also understand that everything we see on tv, is a reflection of true life, somewhere.

And, we continue to pray for things like this, forgetting that prayers, thoughts, and even scripts can transfer into real life.

Workability of Website

When asking people to review my website www.justsea.wordpress.com to determine the workability of it, I was quite nervous. I was asking for honesty, but still hoping that the feedback was positive, which it was (mostly ; )

The ease of WordPress allowed me to input the pages and content I wanted on the pages. After which a navigation bar was created, for both the top and the bottom of the home page. Therefore I received a lot of good feedback on the accessibility of the website. You read the link, you clicked the page, and wala (if that's how you spell it, and if that is a word).

Although navigating the site was easy, everything wasn't known. For an example, on the Poem Page, visitors did not know that they could click a picture to enlarge, and also to get an individual poem on a page by itself. It was more like a "hidden treasure" along the way. With this in mind, I will create one line to simply state this. Something like Click a picture, read a poem. Or something to that affect. People also asked me what the small picture was next to the Just S.E.A. on the first page, so increasing size there could be beneficial.

Overall, I received a lot of good feedback; most of the questions or concerns were dealing more with the size of graphics on the site.

Killing Time

"As if you could kill time, without injuring eternity."

This is the saying my mother shared with me, as I told her I date. "Any perspectives?" she asked. Of course my response was no... not yet. Just entertaining myself (for lack of a better phrase.)

"So you're killing time?"

"I guess you could say that" I responded.

And there it was this phrase that I have never heard in my life;

"As if you could kill time, without injuring eternity."

It makes complete sense to me... so undoubtedly my response was silence.

I know that you cannot kill time without injuring eternity. But said like this, at this moment gave me some sort of revelation.

What have I been doing not just in the dating world, but in my life. Every minute counts right? Have I been utilizing my seconds wisely?

Have I lost respect for time?

One out of Three

As we ask repeatedly, what is wrong with the youth, we must first take a good look at our elders. Not necessarily the elders 65 and older; but, the parents, the grandparents. Whoever is raising the children.

On my way out of the restroom at work I held the door open for three older women. Not only because of age, but simple courtesy.

First woman through the door. Nothing.

Second woman through the door. Nothing.

Third woman. "Thank you." And I thanked her.

Too often we minimize the "hellos" and "thank yous" to nothing. No exchange of words, no appreciation is given.

Then society looks at the youth as they brush shoulders with ignorance. And we want more. But if her mother didn't say excuse me, and her grandmother didn't say excuse me. How can we demand it?

Yes, I understand that what you have been born into does not determine where you go; but, foundation is everything. We in our growing stages mimic what we see. Therefore "we" are reproductions of ignorance.

Not My Emotion to Create.

As I think of the day, March 31, 2010 I envision three things.

• My Cousin's Birthday
• My godson's Birthday
• A Friend's termination of a pregnancy.

Two smiles and one expressionless face. How do I feel? What do I tell her to feel? Telling her it's not my emotion to create, is not good enough. She wants more.

How do I tell her, that if I was in her shoes I would not; if I've never been in her shoes? Children already, not content in life, how do I say add to that load. To that self created burden, that joy of life.

Mutterings in Secret

Sometimes simply "making it" through each day causes
us to forget, that we made it through the day.


I try, I won't say I always do, but I try
to wake up in the morning
and at least say "thank you God."
Also, before I go to sleep at night
I try to do the same. I even went as far
as taping my mustard seed charm above
my mirror in my bedroom.

Yes a prayer too,
would also be nice; but if I can simply mutter
those words, "Thank You God!"

I believe I am getting closer
to my prayer.

Cooking Again (mmmhhhhhhhh)

With work, school, and "me time," I haven't been in the kitchen that often. Nonetheless, this night, I was reintroduce to my first love. I remember what it is to cook, eat, and know without a doubt that everything was prepared with care.



I remember leftovers; I've missed leftovers. I have leftovers a.k.a. lunch for tomorrow.



I've missed the apartment filled aroma, of baked chicken, sauteed veggies, and brown rice.



When we count the hours of the day, we sometimes forget the small things that matter the most. I was granted peace within self, in a piping hot kitchen.

Cheating Men (and Women)

A friend of mine posted this comment on facebook

"Fellaz these ladies say that "oh all MEN are the same" so when we get caught cheating why do they leave us for another Guy that's just gonna cheat on them? I thought all men are the same ladies? Smh I just don't get it. One of y'all explain this to me."

These are just a few of my responses... I will fill in if necessary.

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You have to first understand that you put the entire female "race" in one category. That's mistake 1. Could it be that "these ladies" are only the ones you have come across? Women don't leave with the the thought that we will be cheated on again, but we leave because we are walking into an understanding of our worth and have faith that God has one who can also comprehend. Ya dig?

A better question is why don't the men who like to cheat, just leave... what are you holding on to? And for what if you can't even keep ya lil man in ya pants.

Yeah... ppl try to walk a thin line in defining cheating, but for me it comes down to would I want it done to me. but then ppl put out what they can't swallow. Let women start doing half of what these cats do and whisper I love you. Men would break down.

funny thing is some woman do worse then men do... married one i should know about... creepin like sneaky cats in the backseats of small coupes trucks motels etc.... that's y i act the way i act... i been seeing this for years...all the same shit...lol

Not worse lol... remember, we are a reflection of man... you just haven't heard the story yet...

the story I was referring to, was that of experience (someone else's) ones we haven't heard, and may never... not of creation... Although Eve (woman) was created as a help mate, ppl tend to mirror actions, not saying it is right, so reflections of self we create...

I can't ask you to be faithful if I can't...

How Long?

Although at times I feel like I want it-- how long does it take for the interaction with an "ex" to cease.

I know the love will never end, and the wanderings of what was, and what could be will always remain. But do I have to first love another before I am truly able to move on?

What if I don't want to love another, I just want to be able to say, WHATEVER! It is what it is. We tried, it didn't work, oh well.

Is anything this easy?

I also would never want to see him with anyone else. We both invested in each other, and I don't want anyone else beyond me, to collect the interest or dividends.

He is mine, even when I don't want him to be. I am his, even when I am too naive to see.

I love him. Still.


I can't say goodbye, so how could I desire him to?

Am I Really Single? (Editorial Style Edition)

Working through a writing assignment for class (1st Draft)

Smiling; half way caught up in the music, and trying to play the nonchalant role, I spot him. The man that I have been seeing casually for about three months now; we acknowledge each other through smiles and other pleasantries. We both, do our own “thing” and fall back into the lounge atmosphere. That is until, while engaging in some meaningless male conversation with another, my hair is grabbed, tongue forced down my throat, and I, I returned the gesture.

Although taken aback I was mired in the open display of affection; but as soon as he let my hair go, and released my lips. I looked around with wonder— who saw us? Were there any potential mates or dates watching? What signs have I given him within the past three months that he would think, simply think, that it was cool to walk up, grab my hair, and kiss me?

So I had to wonder, am I truly single? And if so, why is he out at this lounge “blocking?” Were the rules of the dating game, not cut and dry? Of course, I found out that these rules we try to create are not cut and dry by any means. There is no form of the human relationship that will allow detachment of feelings and emotions, simply because you are in a crowded environment. Nonetheless, I believe it is paramount when dating, to discuss expectations— then there is a better chance to avoid moments such as these.

Lust

I lust.

Even when

I do not know.

I lust.

I find myself with an urge...

a sensational itch on the bottom of my foot

a tickle on the inside of my thigh

kisses on my knee

I lust

for life.

Keeping a Clean House (Or in this case office)

Being clutter free in life is truly beneficial.

Looking around my home office and trying to concentrate enough to write anything has proven to be quite hard. So an alternative to writing anything is to write about my confined space. Already starting with a small space, then adding clutter, and other stuff has left me surrounded. With papers, bills, To Do List that obliviously haven't been completed and the wonder. Wondering where this paper is, where that confirmation number went, but most importantly, this messy office has taken my peace. Some work well in an office that is not "clean" and organized, some need the clear desk or table-- for me, I believe I can work in either condition. Nonetheless, I see myself working more efficient in a clean office, or at least having a clean desk!

So write to you later world! I have to go clean ; )

Natural Hair!

Place: New Jersey- In my father's kitchen.
Year: 2002
Month: May


I sat in this high chair that allowed my feet to swing, and I think, I may have been smiling. It had been years now since I said I was going natural; I was finally going to grow my locks. Tired of twisting my mothers and (especially) my father's hair and watching it get longer and longer, and I was still "permed out." I had to do something; so I sat and waited. I had just told my father to take it off! Yes, I said it cut my hair off! Of course my father resisted at first, he wasn't going to cut his baby girl's hair-- but he did. Still smiling, I watched the hair drop from my head, to the floor.

My first step, and I wouldn't take it back for the world!

I love my hair!!

Wanting vs. Needing vs. Receiving

I always knew what I wanted in a man.... Okay, scratch that. I always thought I knew what I wanted in a man. But more and more lately, I am finding myself entertaining the words of men of whom aren't in my highly qualified category. Now, don't read too deep into that statement, because to become highly qualified doesn't take a lot. I don't ask for much.

Let's list it:

1. God Fearing (Self Explanatory- I think)
2. Educated (Either formal or street, it doesn't matter- Just can't have a "dummy" on my hands.
3. Common sense (Even with education, street or formal you need this)
4. Go Getter aka Ambitious (Can't wait until someone brings you food, gotta go get it.)
5. No children- (Preferably) I don't have any, so ummmmm.... yeah
6. Compliments me, and vice versa.
7. Respectful - No double standards
8. Cleanliness
9. Height Requirement (You need to be ___ this tall to ride this ride) ; )

(I may add more later)

But with what is there- I still don't think I'm asking for a lot. So why can't I get it? It's not that I'm not flexible, I'll accept a gentleman that may be missing a quality or two, but not a lot.... So where is he? Am I no longer able to distinguish between, want, need and what I'll actually receive?

Abstinence

Is it over rated? Or is sex over rated?



Counting (A poem, or something)


I told him

I am practicing

abstinence

He asked

for how long,

I responded

two hours

and

37 seconds

He smiled

and I smiled

too.

"If I Can't Be Used, I'm Useless"

A friend of mine was remembering a radio show with Fabulous the rapper completing an interview. She tried to reduce his 7 to 8 million earning potential for a movie, to nothing. She stated that's not a lot of money. (Bet she'd jump for it though)

Fabulous' response was "If I can't be used, then I am useless." And I'm pretty sure this response shut her down. What could she say?

So think on this, what if it was all done in vain.
The career latter, the schooling, the movement (down to the basics), the dreams, the nightmares...

What if your daily routine didn't add to who you are or what your potential could be.

Being used does not always have to be seen as negative.
Think of the phrase Let the Lord use you. It's not negative, but it's a realization that you have a gift that should be utilized, and in Fabulous instance he's making money off of it. Quite like work, although we too are getting paid, we are being used, but being paid for that use.

So keep in mind, if you can't be used, you are worthless, to yourself and those around you.

*That seemed a little harsh...but truth is truth right ; ) Smile, and let the world use you!

The Cost of Care

I find myself listening to children more as I get older. Wishing I could create that peace again. That contentment with everything. Not being tainted by the world.

I want to forgive, without knowing what happened.
I want to care enough to ask the young boy what he needed money for.

Instead of walking away, holding eight quarters to feed the meter, instead of him.

Baltimore

It took me quite some time to come to terms and peace with my remaining time pursuing my MFA. I was smoking more, to calm my nerves. Venting to all who would listen. Glasses of wine were frequent.

I regretted my decision to move to Baltimore, to go to school in Baltimore, and most importantly the choice of UB. But with three classes left before graduation (5 including the 2 I'm currently taking) what do I do? Bitch and complain, or suck it up and write letters?

Well, I did both, and am still in the process of writing letters, or was that bitching?

Either way, I have found a happy disconnect. Working, schooling and living in Baltimore; I'm not angry anymore.

Disappointed yes. As I look back I remember conversation after conversation before I even relocated to Baltimore; the goal was early graduation. I was told it was feasible; but, somehow down the line the vision was blurred. With my vision still intact I fought, through words.

Words were lost and denied. Although my request was not granted, I find back scratching satisfaction when people (with whom I had to come in contact with regarding this situation) cannot look in my eye.

Hmmm... When you're right, you know you're right. And when you are wrong... You know that too...

He Loves Me, Like Monk Loves Trudy!

So where is my ring at?



Not mine personally, but I hear a lot of women asking this question. Where is my ring? We even have Beyonce singing about it "if you like it, then you should have put a ring on it." But the problem is the men are simply liking it. Why put a ring on something you like, instead of waiting for something you love. Or from a more "ol' skool" generation, "Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?" Are women "enjoying" life until they realize all those free "hits" were simply enjoyment? And it leaves us catering to an itch that we cannot meet.



When I say yes, I want it to be a man that loves me, like Monk loves Trudy! After eight years, (or at least 8 seasons) Monk's relentless love for his murdered wife does not waiver. Although Trudy's murder is unsolved, he still wears his wedding ring, keeps her pictures up and even dreams about her.

(Yeah off my Monk now, back to the ring)

So until that man can love me as Monk loves Trudy, I'm good, I can wait.

I don't need the ring.

Blogging Anyone?

I was told that blogging is more like an Internet journal of your life. However I cannot begin to understand why people would share their life online with strangers. Does it create a sense of closeness, a sense of belonging? Is it the fact that I have no desire to feel close, or belong to strangers, that I cannot not blog? Three times a week for a writer; that shouldn't be difficult right? Nevertheless, I find myself struggling to find words to share with this new world. So, I not only dread the writing of the blog, but I also dread the reading of my blog.

so, um... yeah... Enjoy!

Where is my Microsoft Publisher?!

Okay so the last website I built, or attempted to build was done through Microsoft Publisher.

For my mid-term project I must create a website that represents me as a writer. Microsoft Publisher is not listed as an option; we must use either Dreamweaver of Wordpress.com. Although I am very eager to learn Dreamweaver, I think I may go for simpler this time around. I have been playing around in the program for a few days, but fear that my ideas will not transfer easily. I have already came to an understanding that my final website will be designed through Dreamweaver; but, my Midterm project may have to take another route.

Upon the completion of the website designed for class, I hope to have a strong understanding of Dreamweaver and HTML code. Having this knowledge will provide a better foundation so all my sites don't have to go through Microsoft Publisher!

I Love Monk!!

So today I finally made it to the Post Office to pick up my package. I wasn't too sure what it was because I have been ordering quite a few things off the Internet. To my surprise, Monk had arrived! To those of you unfamiliar with Monk the television show, click here: http://www.usanetwork.com/series/monk/ . The best detective, private consultant, whatever you'd like to call him, Adrian Monk is located in San Fransisco and has OCD. Although just about everything scares him, he doesn't let that interfere with his "work." (Most of the time) I have watched as Monk has conquered trail after trail, case after case; he has gotten better at simply "living" too!
I wasn't privileged enough to have been watching Monk from the first season. I probably started at like the 3 or 4 seasons. Therefore it was without a doubt I had to get the complete series! Monk Seasons 1-8 here I come!!

On Being Humble

We could avoid much of the negative energy in life, if more people would admit when they are wrong. So often fall outs occur over misinterpretations, misplaced thoughts, glares in the wrong direction, i.e. the forgettable things in life. If we allow ourselves to be humble enough to state our wrongs, life would be more enjoyable, more rewarding.

Procrastination

Things to get for my desk at work:

1. Hand sanitizer (Big bottle)

2.Print picture of Caleb and Gavin

3. Calendar (Hand held one)

4. Bible Verse - Or something inspiring to put on the wall

(Think about Daily Bible Verse)

5.Box of tissues

6. Small can of spray disinfectant

7. Stickys

I've been staring at this bare desk, for many sign ins, and sign outs. This list, comprised of things I wanted in my first cubical, still remains a list. I find myself writing "To Do List," "To Get List" and they sit, in paper form, waiting for me to fulfill them.

Brown Sugar

Before we married expectations

we just lived in the now

picked flowers tossed in wind

kissed with eyes closed

looked forward to forgetting everything

young and wishful, we never tasted doubt

and now I'm wishing I never tasted you.

I used to watch Brown Sugar on repeat. Triggering memories of my first love and the possibilities of us. I was 12 when I met him. 16 when I let him know me. 18 when I tried to hate him. Then 23 when I finally forgave him. He was a pathway to something beautiful; paved with sweet lies, and chocolate kisses, covered in saliva from various women. I loved it though; this is why I couldn't let go. Brown Sugar filled me with thoughts of forever, he plus me; I cried. Sang the the sound track..."love of my life, you are my friend..."

friend, friend, friend...

Writer's Block...(or whatever we call it)

As I sit with a white canvas, trying to blog and write poetry, I have decided to simply record my random thoughts and go from there.
Hopefully it will help my process, soon... lol


1.

and it watched me

blades came out of lines

razors cut through the white space

I dropped the paper

hands leaking from diagonal cuts

I open my mouth

licked my fingers

and begin

to write

Writing...

"I wrote with tears and anguish, pouring into the pages all the pain that life had meant to me."

-Upton Sinclair

When I first started writing poetry, it was for privacy. My brothers found their way into my diary and my outlet was stolen. So I tried to get poetic; put my life on pages and sold the story as someone elses. And it worked for a while, until I begin to give too many details. Everyone knew, I was a poet. A poet who faced her demons and others head on with words, (The pen is mightier than the sword right).

As time progressed, I realize that writing has briefly summarized not only my struggles, but also, the battles I see second hand. Writing has analyzed the content to produce solutions. Whether the solution is a direct one, or just the beginning of one, progress is made.

However, lately, my progress has been minimal. No longer writing for me or the people I was once so close to, I find my path changing. So I step back and question, am I becoming well rounded, or losing part of me...

Does Freedom Come With Age?

While on one of the many websites I frequent, I came across a video titled "Grandma Telling it Like it is." Immediately, I thought of my Grandmother, affectionately called Gram-Sa-Ditt.

Although my Gram-Sa-Ditt probably wouldn't agree with me, I believe the honesty that prevails in this video is her all day. Granted, she doesn't curse, or use vernacular that is not Christian-like; she says what is on her mind without reservation.

So I wonder, why can't we all take a lesson from this. Must honesty, even brutal honesty, come at a age where we no longer care what people think? Or can we simple lay the truth out no matter the age and expect people to swallow it just the same?


Check out the video ; ) More than honest... it is funny. I needed something to blog about. Enjoy!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-1ehDZv6JQ

Maybe I lied...

No maybe, I definitely did... I don't enjoy blogging. I find myself pulling for something, to satisfy people I don't know...What is the purpose of blogging again?

Saul Williams-- Well Represented!

So, after what I consider my first "rant" (that is what blogs are right) I think I like it.

Saul Williams is the topic of my next one.

(Side note: Should I branch away from writing about poets, okay…next time ; )

Saul Williams is an incredible poet, actor, musician, -- all ‘round artist. I believe his website www.saulwilliams.com does a great job representing his diverse qualities.
When entering the website I was immediately drawn in by the unique set up. 13 Links takes you click by click to different areas in Williams’ life and mind. You have the option to look at photos of Williams as you read his thoughts. Williams has created a website that leaves the viewer with a profound feeling that is thought of well after leaving the site.

Saul Williams inimitable style is matched with his personal website; therefore, representing him well, regardless of the job at hand. His website is an extension of him.

Take a look, enjoy!

T.D. Jakes

Ok class, today we will be discussing T.D. Jakes.

Can I say that? Do I have an audience, is anyone watching, reading, or simply acknowledging this blog. Well, it doesn't matter- I know Jenny is ; )

So yeah, T.D. Jakes is an extraordinary man that has allowed God to use him in a way that changes the lives of others. His website speaks to what is important to him, and allows interaction with the viewers. T.D. Jakes' web presence is great. He too, has a blog, and a prayer interaction page that allows you to submit a prayer request to have someone pray with you.

T.D. Jakes has many talents; he is a Bishop, a writer, (novels, movies), plus many more. His website works because it gives the audience him and his talents. We are allowed to experience him all in on place, and this is one of the reasons his websites are so successful.

http://www.tdjakes.com/

http://www.1800bishop2.org/v2/?redi=no

What Will Represent YOU?

Sometimes you don't have to search the web, to find what you are looking for. Sometimes, it is delivered to your inbox.

I'm not real experienced in writing blogs, don't know if I understand the concept. However, when trying to complete my HW assignment I was taken aback by the email I received telling of a poet Gabrielle Bouliane, passing away from cancer. So I thought I'd write briefly about my feelings regarding the matter as well as the increase of Internet recognition for her.

Although I didn't know Gabrielle personally, I was moved by the love that people in the poetry community have for her. She did not have her own website that I know of; however, I believe that all the blogs, post, comments, etc. do a wonderful job of representing who she was and how she will be remembered.

Ironically, when this email was sent, I was attending my Aunt Gertrude’s funeral in Philly. Both Gabrielle, and my Aunt Gertrude passed away from cancer; even so, they found out how to live, even when death was apparent. Quite like Gabrielle, my Aunt touched the lives of many and their memories represent her and her “work.” In light of their deaths, I must ask a few questions. (Even to myself) What will our life search turn up? Will the people whose path we cross do “a particularly good job of representing us and our work?”

I understand the importance of a web presence, but what if you’re represented well online, but the memories you have created in this life are refundable?

You don’t have to search the world to find life, you just have to live.

Please take a look at the following pages that have Gabrielle Bouliane’s poetry, video, or tributes on them. Feel free to also conduct your own Internet search.

http://www.livepoets.com/poet.aspx?id=14

indiefeed_gabriellebouliane_lifesentence.mp3

http://theaccidentalnovelist.wordpress.com/2010/01/30/for-gabrielle-bouliane-1966-2010/

http://www.mikemcgee.net/?p=669

Welcome!

Welcome to the TASTE OF SEA!

Here you will smell, feel, taste and experience SEA as she makes her journey through Electronic Publishing ; )

Hope you enjoy!