Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

Chapter 1




I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost ... I am helpless.

It isn't my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out.



Chapter 2



I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don't see it.

I fall in again.

I can't believe I am in the same place.

But it isn't my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.



Chapter 3



I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in ... it's a habit.

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.



Chapter 4



I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.



Chapter 5



I walk down another street.







(There's a Hole in My Sidewalk) ~ Portia Nelson ~



















There are some holes that I fall into out of habits that are very hard to change, over the years negotiating the holes on the street has become easier, and for the most part I take a different street. Still, there are those difficult “what the effery?” times that I fall and stumble into a hole.

I prayed for change, so I changed my mind.

I prayed for guidance and learned to trust myself.

I prayed for happiness and realized I am not my ego.

I prayed for peace and learned to accept others unconditionally.

I prayed for abundance and realized my doubt kept it out.

I prayed for wealth and realized it is my health.

I prayed for a miracle and realized I am the miracle.

I prayed for a soul mate and realized I am The One.

I prayed for love and realized it's always knocking, but I have to let it in."

~Jackson Kiddard

The beauty of a woman
isn't in the clothes she wears,
The figure that she carries,
or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman
must be seen from in her eyes;
Because that's the doorway to her heart,
the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman
isn't in a facial mole;
But true beauty in a woman,
is reflected by her soul.

It's the caring that she cares to give,
the passion that she shows;
And the beauty of a woman
with passing years only grows.

~ Maya Angelou

SHE and I.....

SHE knows how to love on the inside
while in a fog of emotion I can do nothing but idolize
SHE no longer yearns to please
while I dumbly wear my heart on my sleeve
SHE wears that entrancing smile
While I lock my jawbone to create the illusion that I am HOSTILE
SHE dances in the rain
while I drown in the pain that causes it to rain
SHE dangles her royalty above her success
while I stab at my guilt, double over in pain and finally confess
SHE loves to love
While having a heart I fall short of
SHE watches me bleed with a glass of empty eyes and shame
I hold her heart with MY hand even though we are one of the same
SHE laughs with those who use her appearance as a weapon
while I corner my abuser clench my fist getting ready to teach a lesson
SHE is the girl inside of me that I wish I could completely be

Written by Renita Sykes

"Yesterday, I cried.

I came home, went straight to my room,

sat on the edge of my bed,

kicked off my shoes, unhooked my bra,

and I had myself a good cry.

...Yesterday I cried with an agenda."


— Iyanla Vanzant (Yesterday, I Cried)

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.


~Kahlil Gibran on Love~


*I want to love and be loved like that.

*

WIFE, WOMAN, FRIEND

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that my beginning was his end. After all, we were just friends. Although in my world I was his girl, so I would pretend to be his wife. Saying sh*t like, "there's only so many years in a woman's life". Right, so I gave him three.

Yet he had the audacity to step to me on this Donnell Jones "I don't know where I wanna be" type sh*t. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He hit me with the forehead kiss. told me life was a journey and he was ready to explore this sh*t, and I was pissed.

To me he was a hypocrite like a fake preacher in the pulpit and he left me sick, and no he didn’t choose me, but that doesn’t make him right nor wrong.

And just because he was the epitome of my life that doesn't make me wrong nor right. Like I said I was his friend and not his wife. And I should've acted within that capacity. And maybe then this breakup would've been "just one of those things". Instead of a f**king tragedy.

And all the time I spent mad at him hell I should've been mad at me. After all I was the one that gave him the key to my house, and Let him hang clothes in my closet just in case we go out. Not to mention washing all his dirty clothes just to make a "full load". And let him finish off all the leftovers just so the food don't go old.

For the times that we raw-dogged cause he "lost all the rubbers". And though I showed him more support than his own father, brother, sister, and mother and just 'cause those same people dial my number when they're trying to stay get touch. And he received mail at my address "cause he be here so much".

Got total control of the remote control to the TV, DVD, and radio And even though his name is not on my lease got sh*t in my house that is off limits to me like his side of my bed and his stash of weed.

But none of this obligates him to me because not once did we exchange vows. And If I knew then, what I know now, I probably would've listened, when he said it was some sh*t that he needed to get out his system. But I was too busy bitchin', jumpin' bad like I was gonna hit him. And in the back of my mind all I could fathom was how much I was gonna miss him. But just because I'm cryin' don't mean I'm the victim, it's just that I was too scared to let him go 'cause some other chick might get him.

And that was my fault, it was my decision I should've never put my heart in my mind's position. But I couldn't shake him--he was like a bad habit. And all this for a nigga that was just average, doing average nigga sh*t Like talking out the side of his neck and thinking with his d*ck.

But, I must admit he's the one I wanted to commit to. Either I wasn't living up to my potential, or I was just the average chick. But I chose to believe that I was a woman caught up in a feeling. Both physical and emotional, who was way too willing to give her all to a man. And though it may sound stupid, guess what? I would do it all again. Just next time for my husband and not a nigga I call my friend.

~I didn't write this..~Dana Gilmore~ did..a respected poet that I love..I wanted to put this up here so other women could read it and maybe learn from it..~

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

~William Ernsest Hensley~

Yesterday I Cried

Current mood: reflective

I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes,
unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.I'm telling you,
I cried until my nose was running all over
the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of
soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired,
or too mad to cry.I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored,
disrespected, and
disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me
in the ways others did to me
the same things I had already done to myself.I cried for all the things I had given,
only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that
had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished,
only to give them away,
to people in circumstances,
which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.I cried because there really does
come a time when the only thing left
for you to do is cry.Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get
left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy
who didn't know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there
for me so badly until I ached.Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt.
I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that
caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there,
the hurt wakes you up.I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know
that my soul knew everything I needed to know.I cried a soulful cry yesterday,
and it felt so good.It felt so very, very bad.In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Because Yesterday,
I cried with an agenda.

Iyanla Vanzant
*****************************
This poem is an old favorite. Iyanla Vanzant also wrote a book by the same title. I've read this poem many times and each time I get something new from it, just like I did today when I read this poem for the ninth hundred thousandth time.

no accounting for taste ....

Current Mood: unAppreciated

When I cooked for you, you said I was way too sweet
When I suggested a book to you, you said I was way too deep
When I let you win a game, you said I played too weak
When I took you to a movie, you went straight to sleep..

When I greeted you with flowers, you said I was lame
When I walked you to your place, you said I was tame
When I treated you polite, you said, "Well, Drew's real nice.."
When I wrote you a letter, you said, "Who still writes?.."

When I prayed with you, you said I was too spiritual
When I called you everyday, you said I was too predictable
When I gave you what you wanted, you called me a sucker
When I told you that I loved you, you told me I was "like your
brother"..

When I made you a gift instead of buying one, you said I was cheap
When I straightened your room while you were gone, you called me a
neat freak
When I didn't wild out when I saw you talking to another dude,
you said I was too laidback for you
And when I didn't try to have sex the first time you came over,
you thought I must not be physically attracted to you..

When I shed tears in front of you, you called me a boo-hoo
When I didn't curse around you, you called me a goody-two-shoes
And when I said I thought the world of you, you said,
"I just don't think of you like that..
..oh, there's my other line; let me call you right back.."

So I suppose the ideal brother for you is:
An adventurously rude
Contemptuously crude
Politely mean
Excitably obscene
Sexually uncontrollable
Hardly holdable
Abruptly abusive
FUCKING LOSER
Who's too hardcore to cook
To dumb to read a book
Too "masculine" to cry
Too headstrong to apologize
Too busy "keeping it real" to be honest
Too unreliable to keep a promise
And too much of a villain
To give a fuck about your feelings..

I guess
There's just
No accounting
FOR TASTE..


© 2002, Drew Anderson, all rights reserved.

psst ... pass it on

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine. Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't know.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave it before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess around too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, buy be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Our Deepest Fear, by Marianne Williamson



*Coach Carter

Lov3 Lik3 by Shihan

It feels so good to be excited about someone again ... even if it doesn't work out, it feels good to get a glimpse of love and that feeling because sometimes, well, we simply forget what it's like.

Found a poet (Shihan) that I absolutely fell in "Love" with hope you like him too '-)



I want a love like me thinking of you thinking of me
thinking of you type love,
or me telling my friends more than I've ever admitted to
myself about how I feel about you type love,
or hating how jealous you are, but loving how much you
want me all to your self type love,
or seeing how your first name just sounds so good next to my last name,
and shit, I wanted to see how far I could get without
calling you, and I barely made it out of my garage.
See, I want a love that makes me wait until she falls
asleep then wonder if she's dreaming about us being in love
type love,
or who loves the other more,
or what she's doing at this exact moment,
or slow dancing in the middle of our apartment to the
music of our hearts, closing my eyes and imagining how a love like this could just hurt so much when she's not there.
Shit, I love not knowing where this love is headed type love.
And check this, I want to place those little post-it notes
all around the house so she never forgets how much I love her type love then not have enough ink in my pen to write all there is to love about her type love.
Hope that I make her feel as good as she makes me feel, I want her to distract me from whatever I'm doing type love
and I want to deal with my friends making fun of me the
way I made fun of them when they went through the same kind of love type love.
Only difference is this is one of those real love type loves.
and just like in high school, I want to spend hours on the phone with her not saying shit,
then fall asleep and wake up with HER right next to me,
and smell her all up in my covers type love
I want to try counting the ways I love her, and then
lose count in the middle just so that I have to start all
over again type love
I want to celebrate one of those month anniversaries even
though they ain't really anniversaries, but doin' it just
cause it makes her happy type love.
And I want to break down the time we spend together into seconds just so it sounds lilke we spend more time together type love
And check this, I want to fall in love with the melody the
phone plays when her number is dialed into it type loves
and then talk to her until I lose my breath, she leaves me breathless, but with the expanding of my lungs I inhale all of her back into me
I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan to something that allows me to talk to her longer
because, in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves.
I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are
I mean the lines on my palms don't give me enough time to love her as long as I'd like to type loves,
and I want a love that makes me st-st-st-st-stutter just thinking
about how strong this love is type love.
I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair...
Well, maybe not all of the hair
maybe just cut the split ends and trim my mustache, but
it will still be a symbol of how strong my love is for her.
And check this, I kinda feel comfortable now, so I can tell y'all this: I even be fantasizing about walking out on a green light just dying to get hit by a car just so I could lose my memory
get transported to some third world country just to get treated then somehow meet up again with you so that I could fall in love with you in a different language to see if it still feels the same type love.
I want a love that's as unexplainable as she is, but I'm married, so she is going to be the one that I share this love with.