Identity….

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A little Monday Morning poetic pleasure…enjoy!

Identity

I am not my hair, I am not this skin

I am not your expectations

I am not my hair, I am not this skin

I am a soul that lives within ~ India Arie

 

“You are my Nubian Queen” he said.

Eyes shown deep like oceans blue, knowledge vast, unlimited and so well beyond his ordinary, that he could not even describe the heights .

“You are one of a kind, a diamond in the raw, and whatever you do, I will always love you because you are my superstar!”

Whew, this man was off the meter and I too was memorized by his depth. His deep abyss of thinking had me on that trip and only a sistah who had experienced this, could possibly understand.

“I love you for your uniqueness” was his trademark statement and I soaked up his melodic presence like honey on sun kissed lips.

Until the day he started to trip.

Replying after my visit to the salon, “Baby what’s up with the afro centric doo, it’s really different and truly does not define you.”

Aghast and somehow relieved, because I had already started to see the signs. I simply smiled and replied,

“My appearance does not justify or solidify my soul. This centric mode is not to be defined by you or anyone else. It’s simply my way of being myself.

…and if you don’t like it, you can find someone else!”

Peace, Love & Empowerment

“V”

Jazz Cafe….

In honor of National Poetry month, I chose not to do the normal every day posting of poets, poetry and the like. For the next ten days, up until the 17 of April, I will be celebrating the poetic pulse of life by providing prose, my favorite type of writing. Simple poetic stories ..my favorite lines and verses. Take from them what you may, I hope they provide a moment of solace and clarity, some humor and inspiration to take you through the month! My imagination has always been my favorite playmate! Enjoy and as always please provide feedback and tell me your thoughts!

 

I wish that I was in your arms like that Spanish guitar

And you would play me through the night until the dawn~ Toni Braxton

 

Jazz Cafémallett7

“Let a brother play for you,”   He said.

“Like a musical poet, I will take the rhythm and beat of each song, bring it to life and pull your heart-strings along.   Far, far away to places you have only dreamed of.   Beautiful foreign islands that people like Luther and Howard Hewett sing of.”

So I obliged and took a seat in this smoky, but sultry cafe. He placed the saxophone to his lips and softly began to play. Harmony spilled out across the room like the cascade of waterfalls and I listened intently as the notes soared. Filled with anticipation, my pulsing body began to sway, the heat rose in my veins like the sunrise of a beautiful new day and he just continued to relay love. I soaked up his melodic song like honey on sun-kissed lips. Like the climatic response after lovemaking when sensations start to drip.

Listen can you hear it? So you feel me, cause I was there, sitting right there on the edge, falling, falling ,listening, watching as a sister sashayed up to his side and curiously tilted her head.

She then reached out to this brother, grabbed the tip of his horn and said,

“Your notes are too beautiful, they truly saturate the spirit and soul, and beckon beautiful poetic images to the head, but I’m sorry… unfortunately tonight ain’t Jazz night brother, we doing Spoken Word.”

Peace, Love & Empowerment

“V”