skim the surface...

see, it's a dangerous quality i possess...
i'm too deeply motivated to share, too generous with my profound feelings...
i entrust my emotions too fully to those who would choose only to skim the surface...
they want none of what i have to offer, even as they taste the splendor,
they reject the feast...
what transpires then is...
i am left empty handed and feeling betrayed...
and there is no one to blame, no one...
aloneness is a place i find most secure...
here in this silence is a peace i am more and more succumbing to...
wrap myself in a blanket of solitude...
no empty promises, no need to break through walls...
i leave you alone...
you leave me alone...

remember...

take a walk with me, be quiet and still your mind...
let's walk up to that mountain in the distance...
when we get to the top, we will stand and listen...
close our eyes and listen with our hearts and spirits...
and we will hear them...
we will hear the drums of our ancestors...
we will listen to the songs of the old ones...
there will be no differences in race, color or class...
the music of the ancient tribes throughout the world will combine...
and the songs will become one song...as familiar to our souls as tho'
we'd sung them too...
and we have, we just don't remember...
we will stand on this mountain, you and i and we will know peace...
we will know love...we will remember...
for who we really are is not so different from one another...and those differences...
ahh, those precious differences are what is so beautiful and sacred in each of us...

we will remember...

i am but a...

i am but a note sitting upon a page of music that both delights and saddens...
a melodious sound that evokes both pain and joy, love and hate...
i am but a word sitting amongst many in a story that has no beginning, no end...
a book that entices the Reader to turn page after page,
never knowing what will happen next...
i am but a stroke from a painter's brush, sitting upon a palette of many colors...
i know that my hue graces His canvas and that i am a part of a great work...
i am but a breeze left over from a great wind, a small drop of rain...
from a great storm that has crossed over the fields of humanity
and left it's mark forever...
i am but a small part of a larger scheme...so small,
yet, i am so important...
He treasures me, seeks me out, as he does all my brothers and sisters...
you are as i am...small, seemingly insignificant, yet...not so in His eyes...
we are cherished, loved without condition, treasured beyond all reason...
there is no reason other than pure and complete Love...
we are this and more, simply...we are...simply...
i am...

the "less than men"

Catcallin, whistles and stares…
Raucious statements made as she draws near
This is no way to talk or treat a woman
All it stirs in her is anger and fear

They notch their belts with conquests had
And miss entirely the point where lies true admiration and respect
Of a woman’s worth they are unaware
Their calling to be real men suffers a disconnect

These I term the “less than men”,
Males who believe they are defined by their penis
Yet, that which swings between their legs
Has nothing to do with their manly status

See, a real man may have desires to express himself like a dog
But, he has the strength of character to choose another way
A dog is held back by his master’s leash
While a real man can keep his own inner animal at bay

The man who raises his hand to a woman
Suffers an inferiority he’d rather not face
So instead this ‘less than’ uses her as a distraction
Feelin like he’s putting her in her place

When all he’s really doing
Is digging a deeper and deeper trench
The bullshit he refuses to face
Hits him full on with its foul stench

These fools run rampant the world over
They are contained within all the races
More often than not you can tell who they are
Look them in the eye, watch how fast they turn away their faces

Oh my sisters, one and all
Choose not these falsehoods with whom to live out your lives
Self love first and foremost is priority
Real men seek women who look them square in the eyes

It’s time we demanded better of ourselves,
Our Spirits ache for more than this
We must not only raise our sights to a higher calling
But then turn and help each other from the abyss

The time is now to stop this madness
treat our men and women with respect
teach our children to rise above
and forever banish our Soul's neglect

voices

i hear voices…
sometimes they drown out my own thoughts…
mean and degrading, full of blame and hate…
these voices battle for my attention
trying to lay claim to my Spirit
all the while distracting me,
from the moment…the here and now…
they pull me back to a time when ‘he’ would beat me down…
sometimes verbally, sometimes physically,
always Spiritually and emotionally...
the voices sound like anger from men who personified rage…
my father when i as a child erred in some way,
the men i chose to enter into relationships with…
all men who saw no value in me and made sure i knew it…
took me a long time to forgive my father
and even longer to accept responsibility for allowing
inferior men to become fixtures in my world...
you see, with responsibility comes power
and today, i am indeed a powerful woman with a voice of my own…
so, why do i hear these damn voices?
they seem to want to draw me back,
they question my confidence and sometimes…
sometimes...have me also questioning…
they are insistent…
insisting that i somehow deserved the abuse i suffered…
that i pushed ‘him’ to do what ‘he’ did…
that i caused his anger and brought his rage upon me…
i know this to be a lie…i do…
and yet, sometimes…i believe the voices and i dream of those days...
in my dreams i am a little girl and my tears fall silently…
i reach out to him, as his hand strikes my face…
i want to prove my worth to him…somehow earn his love…
i fail miserably and this breaks my heart…
i wake from my dreams to those voices yet again
spouting ‘i told you so’…
and for a moment, i agree…
for a moment…
and then, the warrior that is me speaks up…
her voice soft but strong...
she speaks to the little girl sitting lonely inside me,
her words wipe away the tears,
her love holds my heart, mends the brokenness
and leads me away from the noise that threatens
the peace i work so hard every day to build...
she points out that by my own example will
i lead my daughters to view themselves with esteem and love…
this thought alone is enough to dispel those wretched voices…
i am a work in progress and every day is a choice presented…
everyday the battle begins anew…
one day, i will know peace
and my daughters will walk proud knowing their mother
healed herself…
from inside the darkness…she found the light…
and faced down the voices…

she is a warrior

precious and pure she was,
you took your anger out
on her vulnerability
you bullied her fragile spirit,
and shattered her esteem
while it was still fledgling,
before she had a chance to
process for herself what was her's to blame,
which was nothing...
but she didn't know this truth
she didn't know why all this
ugliness was hers to bear
it shouldn't have been
and i as mother failed to see
failed to recognize the profound depth
of her pain
pain you were causing her
everything comes full circle
you bastard lie of a man
everything
and i am no longer blind
i see and i am angry
the lioness has awakened
and will not rest
until you pay for what you have done
and my daughter?
she is a warrior
a temple divine
and this mother will never let her forget it

acknowledge it's presence...

if we allow it, nothing is wasted,
all that is said, heard, experienced,
inflicted upon the soul...
can be considered as a stepping stone to the next level of being...
a chance to learn and maybe,
one day...
teach...
this life is dynamic, everchanging,
as hard times phase into good times,
one thing is certain...
those good times will again,
phase into bad...
and so on...
such is the way of things,
the only guarantee amongst all that is not guaranteed is...
life stands still for no one...
to set one's heart on some illusion
that joy can be had and held tightly
is a fool's game...
a game that will render the player heartbroken and singin blues that frankly...
no one wants to hear because they're singin their own rendition...
peace is hard won and privy it seems only to those wise enough to pay mind...
to signs and voices so small they almost fade into the background of the mind's chatter,
almost...
all that is...all that ever was and will be can be viewed
from a place of acceptance...
why the need to fight and create baggage for life's experiences?
baggage that we then, on some idiot's tangent, actually choose to carry forward?
when, if we paid mind to the still, small voice within all of us,
we would understand that what was said and done is over...
and what will be, will be...
and our need to battle in some inner war is devoid of meaning...
if all we choose is anger and strife...
there are lessons to be gleaned from all that is...
and levels to be reached within...
this life is so much more than the ugliness we wallow in...
we only need look around that most obvious of corners to see...
the peace we seek has been there all along and simply...
patiently...
waiting for us to acknowledge it's presence...