The Lie

"Lie To Me"

 

"Lie To Me"

Image Credit: Ian Leino

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please…just let me be tonight..

Whatever my offense..hold me fault tomorrow .  I need my rest tonight.  Please
Consciousness shakes my sleep. Truth slaps my cheek..yet at your forehead I lay close.

Face to face…

we got lost

in the fallacy of who we wanted to be..

never to face the reality of who we truly were.

Time caught  us

Time tripped us

we slipped.. we forgot…

Not able to distinguish The Lie from The TRUTH

until The Truth found us.

(your truth first)

You call… I answer…The Truth. Cowardly available.

It Never mattered who you were..(I never cared)…I was content on the lie..as long as I never had to confess it.

These wicked escapades…
I trifle..I bore..I explode
I like… (I think)

Tangible and Colorful. Spontaneous and Adventurous.

But…somehow the sweet just isn’t sweet enough.  Your medicine doesn’t fix…and The Lie can no longer hold me.

 

 

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Doll

A Bang of Shoes image by Enricco Sua Ummarino

Lil Kim, Blow Up Doll; image by David LaChapelle

He wants me..

……………………though he knows me not.

He wants me..

……………………..he thinks I’m beautiful  “Your my Living Doll..” he whispers at my earlobe…though he’s never really seen me.

He wants me..

……………………..he wants my legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed at his waist, holding, gripping, and lifting me…though he’ll never ever feel me.

He wants me..

………………..because he says he “thinks” he loves me.

But how? How could he want me?  How could he possibly love me..When I’m not the “Me” that he thinks I am.  In fact, I’m the (ME) that he refuses to see.

(ME): Flawed and imperfect. Slightly irregular. Quirky and disoriented. Clumsy and restless. Discontented and needy. Destructive, ill and indecisive. I sleep with Skeletons and Bathe the Devil. I sometimes laugh when I shouldn’t and take things much too personal. I can be cruel, narcissistic and impatient.

But, He Wants Me..

Only because he’s too blinded by what “he wants”  that he’d rather sleep with a lie and take home a fantasy than to face the plain reality that I am not the (me) that he wishes me to be.

I’m flawed and imperfect. Slightly irregular, and will never be the vision of what (YOU) think (YOU) see.

 

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~ Risha’s Story~ “AND AIN’T I AN AMERICAN?”

The Girl with the flag.

 

Her-Story Badge

I Survived (Discrimination and Racism!) Her-Story Challenged!

“Dedicated to Maria Elena Ramirez and Sojourner Truth”

…………

All of my life, I’ve been told, “You speak good English” or asked, “What country are you from?” Sometimes I think, “Not again, with the questions.”

In fancy neighborhoods, sometimes security guards follow me in stores or search my bags before I leave.

I want to tell them, “My ancestors worked hard to build the railroads here, back in the 1800’s.” And ain’t I an American?

My Asian American family has lived in the USA for generations. I’m no foreigner. I’m an AMERICAN.

Listen…my speech has no Asian accent. On the phone, some folks think I’m white, like them. When I show up at their office for the first time, they look behind me, searching for some invisible, white woman. It’s a trip.

And ain’t I an American? REAL Americans come in all colors.

But Asian Americans are invisible here. We are perpetual foreigners in our birthland, trying to stay afloat in a sea of ignorance. We answer questions all of our lives like, “What country are you REALLY from?”

Hey, I grew up with Santana, Clapton, Motown and the Jeffersons. And like you, my family has always celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Some say my family has been here longer than theirs — yet our children are still called ‘Chink’ or ‘Jap’ in American school yards or told to “Go back to China (or Japan).” Latinos or Mexican Americans are told to go back to Mexico. African Americans are told to go back to Africa. Muslim Americans are told to go back home. But this IS our home.

I was born in the USA. But as a kid, I was asked in a new school, if I knew the Pledge of Allegiance. This question politicized me. And ain’t I an AMERICAN?

We belong here. There ain’t no place for us to go back to. This is it! America is home. We are Americans, just like you. We all were immigrants once (except for the Natives).

And ain’t I an American? Read a history book. My ancestors panned for gold and helped to build the Transcontinental Railroad — blasting dynamite through huge, granite mountains. Dying in droves here. Others were run out of town, once the jobs dried up.

We need some of you to get it. Now…  And we’re waiting for the day when you’ll look at us and see us as REAL Americans, not as foreigners. We’ve been waiting for generations.

And ain’t I an American? Don’t make me break out my southern drawl, y’all.

© 2012, Risha. All rights reserved.

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Etta James

Etta James

Sweet songs Etta!

The legendary Etta James, Blues and R&B singer died of complications of  Leukemia today, at the age of 73.  Her music and raspy, strong, (tell no lying tale) voice resounded loud and clear for us all.   She told us how it was and was gonna be.  She begged without submission and gave no apologies about “Her” story and how she saw fit to tell it.

Etta’s sexy and sultry sound is the Mother of the voices of today’s Grammy Award Winners and the Heart and Soul of yesterday.  We love you Etta.

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Escape of the Loons

Image Credit: Clare and Holly

“How can I move on..when I’m still stuck to you?”

(Two Troublesome Loons Sticky and Glued………..Heavyhearted, Torn, and Blue…………………Love struck,  and Confused…………… Hated and Weighted…………….. Dizzy and Sedated……………. Painfully plucking away each others feathers..but so salty the tears, they bind the Leather Tether even more…tightly together)

 

My Date Night

New dress

New shoes

New stockings.

                      New do.

New China Red Lipstick for shiny red lips.

                                                         New practiced glide and New extra sway of hips.

A promised date on an outdated calendar.

A long-awaited Escape to something grander. Something better or Greener, Tender and  maybe Finer.

A long bath, manicure and pretty toe.

                                                              A rose oiled rub-down for a sun-kissed glow.

A New flirty scent with honey flavored powder.

                                                        A hopeful tasty treat for the suitor of the hour

A diamond g-string with matching push-up bra.

                                       A desired finished product..free of blemish nor hint of flaw.

A full frontal view, a rear view and side……

                                                         but in the mirror the chain can’t hide.

Bulky and mismatched.

                              Out of place yet still attached….

His Date Night..

A drive to comfort… a familiar caw. A hiked skirt with hidden claw. A One night proposal or maybe a lifetime. A dream of stability, loyalty, trust, and finally fidelity.  A friendship wished upon and a love never torn.  A likeness of self and hopes of something easy and never felt.

Delighted he watched her, and secretly checked off his prized requirement list. But, as the night ensued..her perfectness became strangeness. Her motives became questionable.  No longer tempted his mind wandered…and instantly….

My Night (Continued)

….It drags from room to room, clings and clangs.  It sticks to my heels and no matter how hard I kick..it always hangs.  Dangling, pulling and tugging. Yanking, suckling, and hugging.

It trips me up….. then knocks me down.

Now..just look at me!  All dressed and ready..just to lay on the ground.

But..not for long..cause when I fell..It yanked him too.  A tumbling, and bumping, through Heaven and Hell he flew..right back to me…stuck like glue.

Now..here we are sit, two Crazy Loons. Fools for searching for what we already knew.

It always ends up the same way, no matter how far we THINK we may be able to stray…It’s just US..

…………Tight forever…with hopes of never…escaping the safety of the cage that we built from each others feather… and the love-struck leather; infused with the blood and sweat of our relationship… is the tether.

 

 

I can’t get over you babe..

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Clarity

clarity

Just a moment in time..a lapse of confusion. A break from clarity. Fogged by the daily overwhelming routine of life.

Now, renewed, regenerated and revived.  Open..wide,  and stretched. Unzipped and naked.

A smile. A smile..pure and without pretense.

A kiss. A kiss..never to be washed from my cheek.

A hand.  A hand..comforting and warm.

Wholesome inspiration and uplifting prayer.

Tender.

 

We’ve all been blessed with Free Will and the Gift to Choose. However, sometimes we become fogged and confused about what choice to make.  We may be attracted by more than one choice or perplexed because there seems to be nothing to choose. We may even be blinded by others influences and their perceptions of what direction (WE) should take. At these times, we should ask Spirit for Clarity. We should pray that confusion be lifted and that we be released from the past..that our minds be renewed and that our paths be shown before us and brightly lit.

Affirmation: I choose LIGHT! My path is clear and before me. I skip in the glory of me being able to choose my destiny.

 

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The T’s Have it

Bite_me_in_the_rain_by_sherryetal

Tantalizing Temptations of a Troublesome Twosome

Tender Twists and Twinkling Eye.

A Twilight Tryst with Tangy Twang

Tasty Trifles Toppling Thigh.

Twirling and Two-Timing

Twined and Torrid

Trapped and Tamed

Tempted and Torn

Tormented and Teased

Twice Trumped

Tricked and Tracked

Tangled in Twilight

Tumbling into Tomorrow

..Too Late for Today.

 

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A Message to all Single Mothers on Father’s Day

Medal of Honor: African-American hero recognized decades after brave act
Strong Fathers Strong Families

Strong Fathers Strong Families

I received quite a bit of phone calls and comments directed to me; wishing me a “Happy Father’s Day“. I graciously said thank you, but all the while wanting to rant.

Father’s Day is for FATHERS!  It is a celebration and appreciation of them, not Mothers; not me or any other Mother that does a “two parent job”. Yes, we take care of our children solely. Yes, we may head the household and run it efficiently. Yes, we are the providers, back-bones, stair steps, doctors and lawyers for our children. Yes, sometimes we get tired of “doing it all on our own”. But, we are MOTHERS! Great Mothers, Super Heroines, Powerful and Never Defeated Mothers. I say that proudly.

BUT! There are Fathers. Great, powerful Fathers. Fathers that raise, nurture, guide, and provide for their children. There are Fathers that deserve to bask in all acknowledgment of them! Let’s praise them. Let’s love them, lift them, and thank these Men who magnify all that Fatherhood is. Father’s Day is for them.

As for the other fathers out there who don’t yet understand what that means, let the Real Fathers have their time to shine and that way maybe their light will direct the lost ones.

I love being a Woman and Mother and I’m not letting anything stand in the way of that title and all it means. I am so much to my daughters and they are so much to me; I am a Mother and that says everything. Nothing will ever take that away. I dare not take the title of “Father” from true Heroes.

Happy Father’s Day to all you great male warriors! We are watching so keep on teaching.

 

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Barack Obama-The Poet

people-obama-college--122958636977931600

Did you know that President Barack Obama was a poet?  Sure, most of us could assume that by his spectacular choice of phrases or his savoir-faire; that he undoubtedly had to be a “Poet”.  We writers and lovers of words automatically suspected that a man who can take  1 word; [CHANGE], and turn it into a revolution had to know something about the lyrical craft.

In the Spring 1981 issue of “Feast”, a student literary journal from Occidental College community, two of Barack Obama’s poems were featured; Pop and Underground.

POP

Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
In, sprinkled with ashes
Pop switches channels, takes another
Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
What to do with me, a green young man
Who fails to consider the
Flim and flam of the world, since
Things have been easy for me;
I stare hard at his face, a stare
That deflects off his brow;
I’m sure he’s unaware of his
Dark, watery eyes, that
Glance in different directions,
And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
Fail to pass.
I listen, nod,
Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
Yelling in his ears, that hang
With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
His joke, so I ask why
He’s so unhappy, to which he replies…
But I don’t care anymore, cause
He took too damn long, and from
Under my seat, I pull out the
Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing,
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
To mine, as he grows small,
A spot in my brain, something
That may be squeezed out, like a
Watermelon seed between
Two fingers.
Pop takes another shot, neat,
Points out the same amber
Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
Makes me smell his smell, coming
From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
He wrote before his mother died,
Stands, shouts, and asks
For a hug, as I shrink, my
Arms barely reaching around
His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ’cause
I see my face, framed within
Pop’s black-framed glasses
And know he’s laughing too.

by Barack Obama

UNDERGROUND

Under water grottos, caverns
Filled with apes
That eat figs.
Stepping on the figs
That the apes
Eat, they crunch.
The apes howl, bare
Their fangs, dance,
Tumble in the
Rushing water,
Musty, wet pelts
Glistening in the blue.

by Barack Obama

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Revolution through Evolution

Iman Al-Obeidi

Today’s Affirmation: Let us all focus on Revolution through “EVOLUTION”! That we finally evolve into a complete human state instead of the barbaric and animalistic creatures that some of us have despicably forced upon the earth.

Let us pray for Libya and all of MENA (Middle East and North African) Nations. Hypocrisy in the name of Religion..has to stop!

 

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The Power of Non-Reaction

Image Credit: Mooji
Image Credit: Mooji

Image Credit: Mooji

To React or Not?

The question enters me frequently.  (I), like so many other human beings; bounce between my spiritual self (the all knowing, righteous, peace seeking, and zen loving part of me) and the physical self (skin, emotion, vengeful, lustful, spontaneous, thoughtless, and carefree part of me).

I wrestle with myself on what to do when confrontational situations come up. Sometimes, I think of  how I will fend off moral uncomfortable incidents? Also, if I am attacked, do I fight back?  If I am verbally disrespected; do I myself become just as belligerent? Do I debate and challenge all that want a battle or a visible response?

From the Bill Collector to the Evil-Eye Onlooker…

From the “Ex” to the Preacher…From the Parent to the Employer…

It seems so easy to react; to feel and to be affected and sometimes infected by outside powers be they negative or positive. But why?

Could it not be just as simple to not react?  To not move, to not be shaken? We all hear of steadfastness and standing still in the face of adversity..but how often do we adhere to it or even advise it?

The “Conscious” or the Spiritually Awake, should be aware that a person who is angered or engulfed in turbulent emotions comes from a place of unconsciousness and therefore has no knowledge of indifference in his actions. Furthermore, he has no other point of reference and may be unaware of choice.

But, for the chosen few who have been blessed with experience, knowledge and wisdom and if they understand that all good things come from making the “right” choice; the decision should be easy.

All who desire peace and positive outcome in any situation know that maintaining an Inner Stillness produces the best fruit.  When there is quiet there is resolution.  We all think clearer when we are at peace.  When we wait before reacting means that we have thought. When we wait, it means that we have taken time to think about what would be the best force of action; if there is a need for any.

When we are still we are taught how to be patient and allow the universe to work for us. We open a path for our lives that only permits good things to enter.

I consider the power of Non-reaction my “Conscious Prayer”.  I am totally aware of the gift that I am asking for. I know that I will receive a blessing because I am giving back.  When I don’t react to negativity, I am shooing it out of my life. When I am calm at stressful times I am rallying for peace. I am promoting love and light and spreading joy in a non-threatening way.  It’s actually quiet empowering.

Can you imagine yourself smiling all the harshness, unflattering, and opposing things out of your life?  (I can).

 

 

 

The Art of Non-reaction

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Stuff

change-1

Ain’t it something how the “Old Stuff” becomes the “New Stuff” and the “New Stuff” becomes the “Old Stuff”?..same ol’ continuum. If you truly want a change in your life..you must be prepared to completely erase the past and all traces. Otherwise..Stop complaining and blaming people for your dizziness on your self made Merry-go-Round.

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