He is my back ground music!
When I move, it’s to the sounds of his adoration for me!
He is my back ground music!
Peeling me open like a banana, he kisses my bruises!
Yes yes he is my background music.
I rock slowly to his roar and fall a sleep to his purr!
He is my back ground music!
Slaying dragons, calling stars, within my reach, to the rhythm of his instrumental climax!
Dancing in a frenzy to a hypnotic beat!
Inciting, enticing, magnetic grooves.
Moving me to the depths of my inner Queen!
Pulling me to the horizon of my destiny!
My background music in the notes of a high sexy, and intense integrity,
Resting before, the entrance of pretty flute notes singing my creativity,
Saxophone solos whispering Gods favor upon me!
Angels singing praises to the woman I am…
Slave’s hums of what I am to become!
I am captivated by the beat!
I roll my hips, and twerk a bit,
Then pop my fingers to the song,
As the world wonders, how I am so strong?
They can’t hear my background music!
Oh thank the Lawd, I got a Job!
But at the end of the day, I feel like I got robbed!
Not by the dysfunctional people I see,
But by the people that are suppose to be paying me!
I reviewed my paycheck and it don’t add up,
Cause for every cent I earn, I owe them two bucks!
A penny for your thoughts? Sista I can’t afford to pay,
I gotta buy folders, staples, a battery for the clock, & my paper supply is short,
My mission is critical, I cannot abort!
Danger Will Robinson! Danger Indeed!
I do not have the money to purchase tools I need.
There are children literally dying in the street!
Mothers using the food stamps to purchase their mental treats,
Fathers sneaking in bedrooms where they should not be!
I am paid to protect them, but these fools keep nickling and diming me!
Shorting me on my milage and demanding too much paper work,
to pay me for what I earned, and already spent!
I am worried about these children, but I can’t even pay my rent!
Never paying me for my time or my ability to save lives.
They just keep reaching out and stealing my nickels & dimes.
I am on a mission to provide safety, well being and permanency,
Working with one hand, cause I need the other to stop them from robbing me!
The DEVIL is busy, working a full time job,
Teaching DFCS to write policies to steal money.
Aggravated robbery! Trickery! Thievery!
A bad investment, my social work degree, when I divide it
by student loans, subtract my rent, erase all the money at DFCS I spent!
Thank GOD that I have a heart, cultivated my skills and made them an art.
Thinking past the assignment, and made it a ministry,
Knowing I could never be paid for my worth!
Squeezing my pennies until it hurts!
Protecting children and providing permanency!
All the while DFCS is robbing me!
I woke up this morning and painted my eyelids green,
Like a blade of grass on a rainy day I want my vision to grow.
Like a well oiled trimmer, my hands outlined my eyes with
I wanted my boundaries to stay intact.
Added color to the cheeks as they are the rose garden to my face.
Besides it the cheeks that embrace the smile on my face.
I decorated my ears with green earrings that I might be quick to listen.
Frosted my lips with pink glaze and toned them down with a little brown,
Top them off with a hint of lip glass that they might glisten.
Read a verse from John to remind me where I come from,
Who I belong to, and to quicken the spirit that lives within,
Bow my head and prayed to God that I’d refrain from Sin.
Now I am off to start my Monday,
Remembering that is just one day,
Tomorrow there will be new colors to choose
Early in the morning I put breakfast on your table,
Now that chick sure aint me!
Every meal we eat is in front the TV,
I am the poor, the whichamickfricken needy.
Tired of y’all sangin these love songs that don’t even relate to me.
Ya sneak up to my door my late at night, wit a chicken dinner and a sac of weed.
In those late night hours, you love my blonde weave
And how everything I got on is in camouflage pink.
Funny how when the sun rises,
Pink is the color of the skin you seek.
Where do you think I got my pride?
How do you think there is a dance in my stride?
Part of the radiance in my shine,
Comes from the whispers of you tellin me, I am fine!
With my legs spread wide and my back arched low,
Your stories build me up to be a Queen.
But when the sun comes up, it’s a different story you sing.
Somehow I transform into that hood-rat chick and crack fiend.
Those voices from the children you hear, are your seed!
Lost in why they can’t see santa,
Trapped in between, drive by shootings, & liquor store lootings, Wondering why they only see a man in the house at night.
In the wee hours of morning rise, they close their eyes,
Praying for a father to rescue them.
I pray for a lover of my mind and my thighs.
Wishing you could see that I decorate myself with pride.
My need of finances does not kill my creativity,
My love of community or responsibility.
You really just took me young,
Left me with your young, and I made do!
While you painted a story that is only part of the truth.
The love song you should all sang is, How I made it over!
Then take a picture of my pink thong ass and it put it on the cover!
Yes. Yes! Pucker up and kiss this lover!
Cuz every Ghetto rock star, rise of a welfare mother,
Older momma that rocks the stage with a degree,
That over-comer is me!
Singing my story, proud of food stamps and income budgeted rent.
It starts with a GED, spins into a master’s degree.
Encores with written books, movie deals and paychecks earned.
Birthed music writers, and basketball players who shoes, you buy!
In every story lives lies and truths, and I am living proof!
Yet sometimes in my mind, that blonde weave, ghetto chick
still exist and she screams with discomfort from the comments
of those who don’t understand the bunions on her feet.
Overworked and tired of the hits,
She wishes the world would just, kiss her ghetto grits!
Just walked out on my one true love.
Not quite sure why?
Just had so many things on my mind.
Other things began to occupy my life and I felt like I was living a lie.
I heard the sounds, tickling my ears, attempting to form words.
Hearing the beat line up with my heart.
Absent all skills but hooked on the art.
Can’t stay away, had to come out and play in the field of letters.
Build a few words, line upon line.
Till the sentences produced words that rhyme.
Coming together, the creation of poetry, the mad love affair between letters and me.
I just love to play the field.
The Devil tryna snatch my seed!
This dude is a fool, indeed!
Don’t y’all know, I prayed over him when he was young?
Asked God to break the generational curses, before his life had begun.
I will not look at what life has manifested.
Taken in his stupid choices, as if I am being tested.
My faith rest in God’s promises!
Satan tryna steal my peace, but I won’t let you rob me of this!
I just hold on to God’s Precious words. . .
Don’t need a lot to get me thru, I just recite what I heard. . .
“And it came to pass!”
How many times was it said, in His precious word?
Not focused on how it reads,
There is a verb and a noun,
Just waiting on my God, to turn this situation around!
How many scriptures did it set up?
How many fools did it bring down?
A few simple promises, many a prayer, a vision in the night, a prophet declared,
“It came to pass!”
452 times, for those of y’all in need? 452 times is how many it says, “It came to pass,”
I just need one, to show up in my life!
Understanding the power in His word, watching the story unfold,
Wondering why that Devil is, so dag on bold!
Just a test of my faith, and the building of a testimony,
Praise in mouth, dance in my feet, prayer in my heart, Seed on my mind,
Each day that goes by, seems like a dag on long time,
The moment it happens, I’m sure I will rejoice,
Shouting, “he finally made, the most obvious choice!”
“And It Came to Pass!”
Standing in line at the check out, I observed a woman pull her cart up behind me. She was smiling and simply full of joy! The clerk greeted her with a, “Hey girl! How have you been?” She tossed a hip and stated, “Fine!” Still ringing my items, he replied, “You certainly are fine! Look how much weight you’ve loss!” I believed she danced a bit as she moved back and forth and screamed, “I lost 50lbs.” Everyone in ear shot smiled, especially the clerk. Although no one commented, the energy in the area was filled with happiness for her success. Her approximately 10 year- old son piped up, “I lost weight too!” As if he wanted to consume some of that unspoken attention. I turned slightly to glance at the woman, mainly because loosing weight is a constant struggle in my life and I know what hard work it is to loose 50lbs! What I saw was a still slightly overweight Beauty Queen, excited about her accomplishment! I thought, Fifty pounds! Amazing! She must feel great!”
Thinking about the weight she lost and the journey she still had ahead of her, my voice of inspiration spoke. “What about the weight of Sin?” Sin lays on our hearts, minds, and physical bodies much like that weight the woman carried around. Most of the world cannot see our battle scars of sin as easily as the bulges and pudginess that comes from overeating, but the weight is still there, separating us from the light.
The crime is increased when we realized that Jesus bared all of that weight so that we might live free. I wonder what would have happen if the people who stood around that cross and watch my savior crucified would have begun to cry out, “No beat me! I’ll take that flogging! No let me carry the cross! Put the thistles of crown on my head!” I believe the story would be less about a Savior and more about the generosity of mankind.
The atrocity is that while we yet believe that he died on the cross for all of our sins, we continue to saunter around with the weight of sin! Stripping the power from the cross we choose to be seduced by death. Appearing like an out of shape fat lady, dressed in a skirt two sizes two small, shoes overstuffed with what used to be petite feet, as if the cut off of circulation in our toes is not enough to signal that the shoe is too small. Face painted like an Easter Egg, deceiving only ourselves and pretending to the world we have it all together. Jesus worked it out so that we can “Shed the Weight” and even better, never put it on! Leave the weight at the cross, He has already, carried, crucified, buried and risen for our sins!
HE HAS RISEN SO THAT WE MAY NEVER FALL!
May every reader benefit from this blog, but today, I am writing to me!
My Valentines Day poem! I decided to recite this one for my readers!
Just click the title highlighted in red, then lay back and listen, let me take care of your artistic indulgence for today!
This poem is dedicated to my number one reader and commentator on this site, Mr. Earl11!
I appreciate you Mr. Earl! God Bless and Happy Valentines Day!
It’s Morning Dew,
Wetting the surfaces of all that is new!
Displaying the secrets of what He has called you to do!
Opening the door to a wet Welcome sign!
Reading to the Universe that today is your time.
Signs of disaster and signs of Faith!
Either way it goes, you’re entering the ring!
Faith will have you standing still,
Flesh will tell you it’s your first kill.
Fear will paralyze you while the world tears you apart,
Emotions unleashed will have you ripping out hearts.
Ears burning, pride shinning, vanity fading, peace swindling,
So I pray!
Strengthen by His voice, guided by His choice, I open the door.
Stepping onto that welcome mat, feeling the freshness of the dew,
Breathing in the breath of life, everything looks new.
Good Morning Earth! I come to collect!