The Suicide Note

They found her suicide note online
And marvelled at the verse
The rhythm danced in every line
Oh what a talented lass!

Her language was very witty
The imagery was, oh, so striking
A thoroughly enjoyable ditty
And totally to their liking

So they post their clever notes
And clicked on to the next…
And never mind the poet who wrote
At last, her very best

Why Write?

Why Write,
It sustains my soul,
Allows a free voice,
Let me be all the women I want to be,
Without restraint,
Judgement,
Excuses or Apologies,
Why Write...
Because it frees me to be me....
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

angelia

Untitled

Wanted to move mountains
...and swim oceans for you
Wanted it all
Except you

Food For Thought: Quite healthy too!!!

by Christoph J.

I cling to the things that make me happy, naturally. I mean... that may seem cliche but some people mistake happiness for satisfaction. Satisfaction can be obtained in a very short period of time. However, I believe happiness evolves from and revolves around the things in our everyday life. Unfortunately, many people choose to indulge in the things that will almost guarantee them instant gratification but sacrifice the things and people that will bring them happiness for a longer period of time. Don't get me wrong, I have been guilty of such sins but if my words have the ability to develop wings of encouragement, I hope they take flight in someone's life.

Be blessed!

SAVE the DATE!!!! Bloggers' Delight TAKES NYC

I'm so excited! This is so nice I've gotta post it twice (here & @ my spot;-):

U all asked for it & Y(our) prayers have been answered! Bloggers' Delight, vol 1 will be completing its premiere tour in the BIG APPLE at an exclusive Harlem location (to be revealed along with the rest of the details very soon;-). Please - Save the DATE & make no other plans for: Saturday, October 11th, 2008 (probably early evening: 6-9pm - but the details are being worked out)!

Yes, it's Columbus Day weekend. Yes, I know most New Yorkers blast out of the city at the mention of a long weekend. But, the other authors in the collection with me want to tour The Big Apple along with the rest of the tourists;-)!

So, c'mon - stayCation with us, for this once in a life-time chance! Besides - NYC can't let the ATL beat 'em on numbers of bloggers who came thru & showed luv! At least 15 bloggers came through the ATL signing. I KNOW more than 15 bloggers live in or near enough to Harlem to come through;-). Will it help entice U if the event includes an assortment of food, beverages & it's FREE (though we may need to take up a good-will offering;-)? Where else can u get all this on a holiday weekend?

All those folx who said U wanted us to come through NYC ... U coming through? We're giving U an early heads up, so u can't say U didn't know). C U there (again - details will follow very soon;-)!!

love it's like a rose like a cloud i came adrift then falling into a
sweet smell of you copyright2008 kai c.

Love is...

I was looking for a man, but instead he found me

He whispered my name, i fell in shame and yet he did not shame me

He spoke of my pain

I cried

I blamed

He laid his hands on me

Told me to forgive thee

I tried but i could not muster the will to forgive my ownself

He grabbed me by the hand

We strolled through the land of my thoughts, my dreams, my experiences

And then he said

All of this is for you...

To be you...

To become you...

My child

My flower

I found God...inside of me

And not once did he disappoint me.

The Trash You Left Behind

The trash you left behind
Brought your memories to my mind
Letters, poems, candid pictures
Promised lies, lost futures
Bring back tears and the pain
Of our bitter parting allover again
We haven’t changed and if we met…
Emotions spring that I can not let…
I have a future now, you are the past
The midnight dream that did not last
All those reminiscences start to pale
When I weigh them on the scale
Of Mr. Man and our son
The past is past; can’t be undone
Our love lost out but we both won
The kind of now where we belong
But I can not put your trash away
At least not yet, not today
I still mourn what we left behind
Like shackles that eternally bind
I hold the keys but dread freedom
I don’t want yet to be free from
The bitter memory of our shared ecstasy
I am not living any fantasy
You were no knight in shining armor
Treated me worse than a paramour
I was your slave, your little whore
Well those were the days of yore
A past nobody else can remember
Except once a year, every October
I mourn the pain of leaving you
You marked my heart like a tattoo
All I can recall is pain and hurt
Like a stabbing wound from a vengeful cut

The trash you left behind

Bring your memories to my mind

Random Urban Static documentary

GV7's newest film on spoken word: check out review here.

Good Music

Cousins, by Steel+. Mellow pans mixed with classic jazz. Perfect background music to compose poetry or prose. Check it out here.

A green grape angel

A green grape angel

a green grape angel

have filled her sweet, sweet mouth

of juicy grapes

they were so very much delicious

like fruit of tender sugary kisses

and when she smiles,

twinkling away

her heart planted the green, green grapes

growing rounded and all fresh

they strengthens her wings to fly

and spread out wide

letting all of her green, green grapes

of love

falling all over the world.......

~

©2008 Kai C.

At Times Am Overwhelmed

at times am overwhelmed
by the abundance of nothing
just sitting there alone
by the lagoon
and watching the foaming brine
bring in debris of all kinds
or taking a walk
on the dark side
and i cross the road
where the motel was
and see comfort workers
still hawking their stuff
but i turn and walk on by
at times like that
i recall your first cut
the times we necked
at the lagoon front
the things we did
at our heavenspot
you touched me in places
i did not know exist
and i took you on journeys
that i can not now revisit
saw you now all
married and proper
a vicar's wife
fitted for the role
like the thread fits the needle
i begin to doubt if
it didn’t all happen
maybe i hallucinate
two dozen times
over three years
or may be i break your heart
and you found god
and he showed you the vicar
who gave showed you peace
but am still walking in the shadows
behind the trees where
we used to make love
and haunt the streets
were we rendezvoused
am still thinking
why did i leave
and if i was the earth
and you were the leaf
why in the name of newton
did you not come back to me

at times overwhelmed
by the abundance of nothing
i compose this corny lines