Saturday, 25 January 2014

Divorce

I honestly believe that divorce is the most selfish and terrible thing you can do to a child. If you don't plan to stay married, don't have kids.... I know there's more to it than that but I really don't care. To see a child crying and damaged because of this it's selfish. It's like having only 1 slice of bread and taking it for yourself before giving it to your child. And I understand that sometimes it's that 1 parent leaves the other but I advise you to think before you take this step because our next generation is going to be a very broken and barren one. One who has sex without love, futures without hope, consume without being filled. You're trying to save the world by being Eco friendly... But in actually you're breaking it down by your desire to be with other people or your lack of desire to save the marriage you currently have. Your children are now going to grow into adults with the notion and belief that if you get tired of someone you can just give up... Being dragged in and out of counselor offices, custody battles, and money wars, This is an epidemic that needs to end. If we can spend years working on our appearance and years pushing our way up the corporate ladder, why cant we put that same effort into keeping our families together???  #FoodForThought #JustSomethingToChewOn #TheBibleTellsMeSo






Saturday, 14 December 2013

First World Problems Anthem

This is my charity of choice this season... saw this and it hurt my heart!!! #FirstWorldProblems  http://waterislife.com/about/donations/

Monday, 14 October 2013

To the drum of one accord


Her inadequacies more apparent than a red door surrounded by white walls, her creativity hindered by lack, feeling broken but put together while understanding that she’s gonna fall apart at the smallest crack, she cries. Attempting to make a life worth living while sitting wondering if its worth her while People smile, she smiles, utilizing her feminine wiles to purchase the aisles of items in a store before she could not afford. Living her days to the beat of the drum of one accord, but all it took was one accord to pull up for her to put out. She use to think she was the most beautiful creature, a true definition of God’s creation, spent her entire childhood trying not to look like those girls her momma told her about and now that’s all shes after… wanting her happily ever after, knowing that will never come once she spreads her legs cuz nothing ever comes after, except laughter from the men who congregate and about her mistake in letting them penetrate… but shes seen the hate in their eyes whenever she tells them to wait, and that wait turns to rape and that rape turns to weight and that weight sits on top of her slowly beating heart… or whats left of it of course…. Her heart beats to the drum of one accord. Without these men she feels ignored but her faith has her reassured that her end will be infinitely prettier than her beginning. So she waits… waits for the floodgates to open, for the happiness to roam 

Sunday, 15 September 2013

Renaissance Woman

Who am I? Who am IIII????? The validity of a true breeze the acuity of a lie. Defined inevitably by the brownness of my skin and the thickness of my thighs, you see. I am not what you see, who am III???... A Walking grammatical error of mistaken beliefs. Defined by society but made true only by my individuality. I am surrounded by Distant thoughts with preoccupied minds, and instead of judging this book by the content, its being judged by the colour of its author, and not their mind. Tripped up on racial divides, halted by colour lines, forcing me to colour inside the lines of a picture that I didn't even draw, my creativity they try to rob.  No need to  cry for me, but in my rejoicing may you sob. Because the fight is the victory  and the development of my history, ...  who am III??? The beauty that results from the regurgitation  of fears that comes only after the many silences of tears, the destination of the proclamation and the realization that there is a GOD. I am the reason that your dream is not a facade, i am the calm  after the storm, baby, the strength that keeps you warm,...maybe? Our hips are wide because of the babies that you pride, are lips are full because we were born with valour, Who am I ??? I am a reflection of the originator  released from despair. I am not what you see. Who am I?? Look a little harder, you'll see, the question is not who am I but who are we...

Friday, 30 August 2013

Vitamin S

The flowers and the breeze and the scent of uncertainty all left for an unusual combination. She got what she hated, but loved what she deserved. Beaten by the unspoken words of the eye, disappointment riddled her expectations of peace and happiness so she held on to her only piece of happiness, she made love to many men, but many men did not love her, because the men she gave her love to were married men hoping that she could gain the place that had already been occupied, and with no occupation besides the one in between her legs she started to question her method of income, then in comes the method of mail via man, her questions answered, her dreams fulfilled, her sadness simply melted away.... sitting so pristine and white, luminescent and immaculate that iPhone 5S... Life is whole again.... iPhone 5S... "it's not a phone its a way of life" :)  

Saturday, 6 July 2013

The other side of the Fence

The beauty that resides within the confides of lies allows me to realize that I am no more than mortal. And the more I tell people that I am better is the more mortal I become. I succumb to the temptations of an idealistic concept that really has no foundation other than the one I'm painting my face in to hide the real me from those on the outside looking in. Plastered my life in sin, didn't plan for it to begin how it did, but it quickly slid out of my grasp into his. Me submitting to the outcome thinking the grass may be greener, a better place with prettier scenery, only to know that it was covered in cracked cement, big 

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Shakespearean Love

I am a hopeless romantic, a sentimental dreamer, a fiend for love and a holder of dreams. I pick mangos and cherries and orchards of apples, I bathe in the air, allow my thoughts to be lost at sea. I pick up and run to a place where my desires are my reality, where I colour inside the lines, where my dress is free from wrinkle. Fancied by the tinkle of my nose resting softly on the lap of the midsummers night dream. Willing to give a pound of flesh to the highest bidder of true love, a merchant maybe, in Venice perhaps.  Counting to 18, having Rough winds shake the darling buds of May, a sonnet. But to be or not to be, I don't question the fact. I am confident in the love that I have yet to fully see, I take comfort in the prayers I have made. What was once broken can again be new and though this be madness, in it there is method.