Off To New Flower Pots Where The Skies Don't Always Have To Be Blue

Rooted into this flower pot of our friendship

Your soil is killing me slowly

Sucking the heart out of me

The leaves that once embellished us are dry, brittle and are becoming nothing but ashes

You stole the water that once kept us alive and gave it to other flowers

So now, we’re dying

Dying, not separately but together

And I believe that I can’t stay here

And I know that you’re not going anywhere

And this is one flower pot that I don’t mind leaving or losing

So I’m off to flower pots where the flowers are beautiful beyond compare and the leaves are still bright green with life

And the pots are so wide, it’s easy to mistake them for the earth.

Where rain pours and pours and pours keeping the roots rooted and happy

I’m off to a place where all they know, is how to dance in the rain

Copyright ©2011

[I'm going to challenge myself to write and post a poem EVERYDAY until the end of the month (and even maybe until the end of the year,we'll see) the poems will all be in shades of green (i THINK)]

--Love and Freedom

--K.Davis

For All The Unlearning That I Have To Do

Beautiful

Persistent

Insightful

Percipient

Lovely

Cathartic

Comfy

Enthusiastic

Resistant

Fighters

Resilient

Conquerors

Breath takers

We are beautiful!

We make each other who we are

Beautifully, harmoniously composed

We fit well together

We NEED each other

Unconsciously,

We break chains beyond chains

And bars beyond bars

Liberating each other to be

To be surreal

To be Y.O.U self

Yeah you self!

To be Your Own Untouched self!

We create each other

Each individualistic self with the anointed appointed paint and paint brush

The colours and odours are breath taking

The culture brightens itself, renews itself over and over again

As each new soul comes to partake in the festival called life

And to share of the bread that is air

With each action

Each liberation

We slowly erase banality from our dictionaries

We unlearn all the dullness in the colouring that we were never meant to know

For in all our discrepancies we are the same.

Paradox, much?

But you see, a paradox is all we know how to be

As here in this paradise

Experiencing ounces of paradoxical sleep, but never forever and ever and ever

We become paradigms and paragons of perfection

Which is how we were gently molded and prepared

Prepared for, and centered into the definition of perfection

Yeah!

Perfection

You, you, you, you and me

Perfection is what we are

Perfection is what we are

Perfection is what we are

Oh wait no,

Perfection is what we WERE

I guess we forgot about our perfection

And allowed it to be tainted

And allowed it to be faded and erased and redefined and rewritten and repainted and put back into a place where it has no business being

I guess we were perfect

And slowly the poetry is becoming contradictory

Because you see, a paradox is all we know how to be because we didn’t change, but yet we did.

My brother we didn’t change, but yet we did!

So on this road back home

Back to perfection

I mean back to salvation

I mean back to redemption

Back to whatever place, this road we taking is taking us

 I pray, we may remember how divine human beings can be!

Copyright ©2011
--K.Davis

---Love and Freedom

Quote Of The Day

Don't ask yourself what the world needs, ask yourself,  what makes you come alive. And then go and do that because what the world needs is people who are alive.

~ Howard Thurman

[ My less of a friend, more of a sister, sent this to me today, and I had to put it on this blog]

-- Love and Freedom

----K.Davis

08.10.11

Shaken but seldom shattered,
And even if......
The glue is available to those who know where to look for it.


[Currently on the edge and I will NOT be conquered by it]
---Love & Freedom
----Mandy

Nothing Short Of Dissent & Disdain

I cannot seem to understand death, all it takes and all it claims to give. It is not in my perception to understand or appreciate what most call a natural part of life, the inevitable. Maybe only the strong have to ability to see beyond what they see. Maybe only the strong are able to accept or grow from the way death savors our grief. Maybe only the strong are able to find solace in the deafening silence that never existed prior to the bereavement, maybe. So I guess as for me, I’ll be seeing what I see and hearing what I hear. For all that death leaves behind is not easy and sometimes seems impossible to deal with because death seeks to break the weak. The affliction eats us whole, shatters one’s spirit. The lies come continuously at our doorsteps.

“It’s gonna be okay”

“It was meant to happen”

“He/ She is in a ‘better’ place”

Who are they to embellish death?  Who are they to validate this wellness that will supposedly emanate from darkness? Isn’t darkness the absence of something? So until that something is replaced the healing/ reparation won’t take place. The reconstruction of the broken heart CANNOT take place, because the last time I checked souls weren’t replaceable. HENCE Death, I will not be appreciative of you, it is not of my nature.

[i do NOT own the above image]

--- Love & Freedom

----Mandy

What a Day When We Walk Down Redemption Street

 I believe that as much as God loves the prayerful penitent so too must He love the persistent up against all odds death coming endlessly in waves but never go under, God loves the fighter

~Muhammad Muwakil

[I [Kerry-Ann] do not own the shown image]

--Love & Freedom

The Absence of Clarity-- [2]

I cannot seem to operate

And you, my Love are gone

....

I cannot seem to operate and all I can hear..

Are the lyrics to songs and sounds in my head

Seeking to define me

Seeking to execute itself over and over again through me

Falling apart,

Losing wars

The new addiction muddles me

Now, just as insipid as everybody else

It aches my insides

Falling apart piece by piece

Peaces at a tine

Now, just as insipid

Petrifaction irrelevant

Insipid is ACCEPTABLE

Maybe too tangible for one that doesn’t belong here

But acceptable

One does not belong here

So she’s hoping to not be long here

For the pounding of the thoughts, emotions and confusion on her lone female frame

Is teary unbearable

It's very unbearable

Usurping pieces of myself

In order to find a vestige of myself in these equations

In these situations

The singularity in the popularity

Offers NO comfort

Neither does the shortened limit of proportionality

So her I am then,

Trying to find clarity…and more

copyright ©2011

--[Introspection]
--Love & Freedom
----Mandy