Mr.T

Mmm hmm Mr.T

similar to the Grinch.

Who’s learned to smile bright?

Masking his face with light.

Mmmm Hmmm Mr.T, I don’t want much to do with Mr.T

I feel he’s sick

Not hurt, just sick.

What if it’s the other way around?

Who knows, I still don’t like this Grinch.

He steals the show, but I bet he’s truly a bitch.

And I don’t mean in the commonly used way, he’s untrue to the image he shows.

Some call him cute and I think ewww.

It’s not normal to be so good at being cute.

Sometimes I see the Grinch.

I just know he has a black heart.

He isn’t truly nice.

I say this because he’s maliciously sly; with his cute pleasant smile.

depicting a soft demeanor.

He has a hidden motive.

And like a switch, out comes his mask.

I think I could describe him as the “Son of the mask, discovered by the Grinch”.

He’s not a “yes man” but he makes people perceive him as just as easy going.

Any feelings?

Nope, I’m cold.

Or am I…

Because I do wonder and allow my mind to ponder.

But I’ll try to be nice to the Grinch.

pexels-photo-1106452

Sisu….

Ambitions got a hold on me.

It’s burning in my chest.

Eating and consuming my flesh.

Tears gleaming in my eyes, begging for success.

 

Jittery, an explosion of massive energy.

This isn’t greed, Its determination of a dream.

A manifestation.

I’ve got grit signed throughout my genes.

pexels-photo-414860

Fulfillment of a proclamation.

Declaration of my previously mentioned assertation.

 

Not just verbal affirmation.

Self-driven, accumulation.

Ambitions got a knife to my throat. He even told me he’s been assigned not to let me go.

I don’t know why? I’ve got my own gun to his head.

I’ll succeed and then we can die.

I repeat this is not fueled by greed.

There’s no ambiguity nor ambivalence.

The feeling is immensely concrete.

God himself made it into a decree.

It’s written in ancient stone, fear has to flee.

There’s no space in my stomach for butterflies.

I’m filled and spilling over with ingenuity.

My mission can’t be compromised.

For the last time, this is not greed.

Just a fulfillment of intuition.

A conviction as I try to express my predisposed inner-mission.

I ingress, not simply definied as ambition.

I’ve got zeal, ammunition, hunger, and lots of time plus commitment.

I am a manifestation of the law of attraction.

pexels-photo-604684

You can characterize it as my genetic predisposition.

Each heartbeat propels me forward.

This can be simplified as a confession, there can be no intercession.

Not a probability, its a fact and definitely not an anomaly.

Stamped and sealed from the beginning of time.

Lastly, I was meant to win the race.

And no, I’m not simply speaking into outerspace.

My birth symbolic, of a worldwide resurrection.

pexels-photo-580679

I’ll now continue my conquest.

Even in the womb, it was coupled around my spine.

God himself, imparted me with this truth.

He said, “I’ve chosen you and you shall bear much fruit”.

pexels-photo-1106452

Smile For Me

While reading outside of my work place, a man graced me with such moving words I almost lost composure. All witty thoughts that I’m most definitely known for left. My normal daring smirk etched upon my face, crippled.

pexels-photo-1259300

“Your pretty. You must not pay attention to common men like me and only dote upon your Rich boyfriend.” Emphasis on the Rich if you haven’t noticed.

I blinked and blinked at this man, and tried to composedly reply. I was not particularly in the mood to jest with this man. (Because I was reading a book)

I said no, that is not the case. Trying to be short and cutting through the chase of a thralled out conversation. This post is not about how I turn down unwanted calls from men. Its more aimed at my thoughts after he had left.

This man ignored my book and went to complement me on my looks. And that I, as what he professed to be a beautiful woman can’t possibly have a personality. Lacking any depth to my choosing of a suitor. My main requirement is wealth.

nature-grass-leaf-green

I repeat I had a book in my hand. Most people no matter their sex, equipped with just a small amount of understanding in the art of conversing. Would start by engaging me through means of the book in my hands.

Either this mans remarks was a reflection of his own inner insecurities. Or he was telling me what mines appear to be. That if he had more money he would be able to catch the most dazzling fish in the sea. Neglecting the fact that after some time he’s going to need to be able to carry a conversation. And be someone worth being around.

I’m still quite fixated on these encounters  and wonder how many women face them daily. No matter our surroundings of hints into our personalities, they still comment on the outer appearance. Assuming that we should be honored to have them complement us on something God graced us with, looks. That thing we had nothing to do with, and can’t change if we tried.

Inside of a library, world history museum and still people comment on our exterior. I now feel ashamed slightly for all past instances when I too complemented superficially upon the essences of people.

pexels-photo-235500

I wonder how it is in the life of a man. I shall have to take my time and ask about. How often do women hit you with a line dripping in skin crawling stereotypes?

Most humans are unattractive in numerous ways.

We complement each others beauty and ability to smile.

pexels-photo-949380

Never mentioning reality and delving into topics we ourselves long for someone to ask about. We are such surface dwellers dazzled by the chimerical aspect of life.

 

 

Miss.

Miss,with the eight and a half size feet.

Miss, she is truly uncategorized. She is simply reticent.

She’s nice but she’s also a trained eccedentesiast.woman-face-curly-hair-157920

Too much is what she is, always being technical.

Questioning the sanity of others on a norm.

Smart but not quite wise.

Blessed but obviously fighting curses.

Miss, with the eight and a half size feet.

Is pretty according to the view point of others.

She herself is afraid to see.

See past her vain beauty and delve deep into her inner self.

She has orange cream sickle skin.

Thighs just a tad to big.

Open but foolishly closed.

Telling truths without divulging her truth.

Walks by dragging her feet and attempts to keep a perfect posture when she strides.

Eyes that have mastered the art of glowing upon call.

Discerningly pleasing, and pleased to please.

All because it sets other people at ease.

Skirting about relationships.

Befriending only to a certain degree.

Lazy while seemingly hard working.

pexels-photo-374767

Chatter box with an earnest heart.

gently assuaging the subconscious.

Unable to stay the same constantly growing in wanderlust by the day.

Miss, with what seems like two eight in a half size feet;

seeing in others what she refuses to see within herself.

pexels-photo-792043

Traveling to her Sophronia; A healthy state of mind characterized by self-control, moderation, and a deep awareness of one’s true self, and resulting in true happiness.

Unwanted…..

I don’t want his kisses.

I don’t want his love.

No longing for his fingertips to scale up and down my spine.

Not a touch on my inner thigh.

Not a pat on my behind.

I don’t want his tender love.

I don’t want him to make me moan, causing my toes to curl or point and my hairs to highper extend.

Neither do I want to be the fufiler of his lust.

The pinicle of his sexual prowl.

My lips on his neck and a tender hand at his nape. No

I just dont.

Wanting to synchronize breaths as we climax .

Staring deep into his eyes.

No desire for him to bequeath his kisses to my skin.

His hands to hold me like some love song.

I care not to smell him upon my sheets, basking in satisfaction and glee.

Or to regurgitate and remenince on his embrace when he is away.

Oh not this one…

I care not for his face.

FD

Charming is this girl.

I’ve yet to make a stand on the degree of her minds command.

Just how smart and aware is she?

Pretty?

Friend?

Or hidden foe?

They say watch women.

And never undermine their ability to score.

“Hell has no fury like a woman scorned”.

I am a woman too…

pexels-photo-247298

The world has yet to burn my skin.

Truce, treaty, peace pipe, a pledge of allegiance?

She’s testing me, I’m also testing her.

She seems a bit careful with her words.

Open but not open.

Telling them a truth before they ask her for the truth.

Brushing lightly with the tip of her hands.

She stares silently at her prey.

Firmly suggesting for you to bend to her ways.

Seeking out weaknesses and turning them back to see their effects in play.

She has “game” and it’s better than a few others I know.

Mind your manners, abruptly raising a hand. To see who will flinch.

What is her mission?

 

 

pexels-photo-413727

Is she an alpha female or a follower of tales?

I’ve yet to decide, although I feel negatively impressed by her gaze.

Her stance is not that of a stallion.

And her stare is lacking in ferocity. But to whom does she compare?

She knows not how to glide when she walks.

Yet she can cause people to watch.

Charming girl, she’s cute in her own way; surely she’s a foe who’s perfecting her monkey show.

pexels-photo-247322

Love Me Good

Love me,beautiful-bloom-blooming-220566.jpg tinder.

love me long.

Love me till I’m blind to your flaws.

Love me.

Love me unconditionally…

Love me more than you may love yourself.

 

Recently I have been thinking about love. And all the conditions we apply to love. Every love we claim to have is dripping in contingents. Barricaded and never fully developed. Realizing that love is not conditional. It is just truly wanting the best for that person whether they want, except, reciprocate, or acknowledges your existence.

Waiting on the world to change !

Some wait on the world to change.

Others try to force the world to change.

By going against the grain, standing up for what they believe and condemning those who judge their book by the cover.

And then there’s those who want the world to change.

Internal critiques they are, of the world and those who judge them by their appearances.

They are similar to those who go against the grain of the world. But they have a different tactic of changing people’s biases.

“If the worlds going to judge me off of my appearance and body language. Then I’ll learn what they think is good, and exhibit those qualities.”

Just to lower their guard’s in listening to what I have to say.

I truly respect the bravery of the open revolutionaries. But, you’re easily spotted, and then ostracized.

Now you are limited to whom you will change.

Lots of women say, how they hate having to wear clothes because men can’t keep their eyes and hands to themselves.  And how quickly we get labeled a hoe for wearing revealing clothes.

Yes, I understand that you are not necessarily a hoe or slut for wearing revealing clothes.

But darlings you cant change a definition and history in a day hoes in one day. The main characteristics signs will remain the same they’ll just say you dress like a hoe. and be one exception to the rule

The world and its stigmas have existed centuries before your great-grandmother. And here you are going against the grain.

I understand the desire to be out of the box.

But I haven’t the heart or patients to live life this way.

I applaud those who fearlessly wage the war.

I’ve decided to live my life a little less than great.

I rather play the game. Look inside the box and gravel when they realize that I’m more than my appearance.

I know the world judges books by their covers and why shouldn’t we.

Everyone except those less fortunate have the time to decide on their appearance. Being raised and aware of groups and acceptable fashion and demeanor. Fit the bill, or be confined to misconceptions of you.

I enjoy looking pure and innocent, quiet and having not much of an opinion. But beware once you spark my fire its one hot hell.

Start a conversation and the revolutionary in me become ablaze. I refuse stupidity and just plain ignorance. Everyone is entitled to their opinions but soon the truth comes out. And with a respectable personal it smooths them a bit out.

Fight fire with fire, or bend it back and tarnish their beliefs.

Let them get all choked up and enraged, and softly reply back.

Some wait on the world to change.

Others pave the way.

Then there’s those who gently suggest a change.

Those who play the game.

Get played by the game.

And then who refuse the game’s existence.

I rather play the game then get played, and I dont beat on dead horses.

People change when they want to , very few are oblivious to their wronge. Most indulge in it for what ever reason they see fit.

Like a soft autome breeze.

Tropical hurrican storm.

Then theres the Sun on a rainy day.

God mad seasons and the whether to change. Just like people everone has their season that fits their personality type. Maybe I’ll gow into a tropical storm. I once waited on the world to change. Now I’m in between.

Who knows, in a few years I may rage like Katrina, or even Galveston from 1900 the deadliets hurrican in the American history. But I do know that I’m not wiating on this world to change. What about you? Whats your season and whether condition?

Common Sense

Now that I am older and more attentive I’ve realized some crucial facts. Reshaping my life. Making me value my childhood and the care my parents put into raising my siblings and myself properly. Recently while examining my sister and two brothers and a few my own life experiences now that we’re all adults.

Common Sense is not as common as it said to be.

My sister and I were having a conversation about how our parents raised us to be aware and respectful of common sense, reality and whats right. To be simple my parents inforced logic upon us.

  • Teaching us that feelings do not out way truth.
  • That we should be able to reason outside of our feelings.
  • State how we feel in a calm way.
  • Discuss differences without getting heated.
  • Accept the truth, and let the lie go.
  • But all parents don’t seem to raise their children with these rules

Somehow others either abandoned this teaching, their children threw it out the window. And stomped all over it. Because the people that I’ve met in my life have been the most illogical people on the planet.

One conversation that will always come to mind. One of my sister’s friends and I was conversing about homeschooling. The pros and cons, including the misconceptions about homeschooling and public school.

I don’t think I stated this but I’m one of the few to have been homeschooled. But not for all of my education. I started at 6th-grade entering middle school. So I believe that I have a decent perspective on schooling.

In our conversation, it was Missouri trying to inform this gentleman that public schools waste a ton of students time every day. Barely making process in teaching and then throwing them into college. After babying them for years.

America’s nagging problem with college dropouts managed to get worse this year. The National Student Clearinghouse reports that 55 percent of first-time undergraduates who matriculated in the fall of 2008 finished a degree within six years, versus 56.1 percent of those who began in fall 2007.

U.S. high school graduation rate is up — but there’s a warning label attached. President Obama has been talking up the newly released U.S. high school graduation rate of 83.2 percent, with the White House noting in an announcement that the rate has grown by about four percentage points since the 2010-2011 school year.

homeschool students scored exceptionally high on test scores, in the 80th percentile, in comparison with the public school average of the 50th percentile.

Also, a study was done in 1997, of 5,402 homeschool students showed that on average, their scores were 30-37 percentile points higher than their public school counterparts. The study also showed that the longer a child was homeschooled the better the score was. For example, a first-year homeschool student scored in the 59th percentile, while a student homeschooled two or more years prior to taking the test score in the 86th to 92nd percentile (www.hslda.org).

A study published in July 2010, by Dr. Michael Cogan, studied homeschool students at one Mid-west college. While this small study won’t have the reaching impact of a larger study, here are his findings.

  • The homeschool students had a slightly higher retention rate, 88.6% compared to the counterpart at 87.6%.
  • There was a higher graduation rate for homeschooled students (66.7% compared to the counterpart at 57.5%).
  • The homeschooled students came in with a higher ACT score (25.0 compared to 14.7).
  • Slightly higher Grade Point Averages were held throughout the college years by the homeschooled students. (Fourth year previously homeschooled college students had a 3.46 average compared to the previously traditionally schooled students at 3.16).

He simply refused the option of homeschooling his daughter because he was afraid she wouldn’t have good social skills.

This is how our conversation went.

“Do you think I have bad social skills?”

No, but others do and she might.”

“Have you meet any homeschooled students before who lacked social skills?”

“NO”

“Have you ever even meet a homeschooled student before?”

“Nope.”

And this is where I knew this conversation was over, it was pointless to continue. I said mind and I tried. He simply could not acknowledge the advantage he would give his daughter by homeschooling her.

I was amazed that this was his biggest concern when he could simply take his child to the park and let her socialize, join social groups sports. ( And I know this does not reflect all public schoolers. This is just a literal conversation that bugged me about less than sensible people)

But these facts are a little besides my point. The guy could not and simply would not accept that homeschool students start off life at an advantage while public students don’t.

They have less time to volunteer for scholarships, internships, and part-time jobs to gain real-world experiences. To travel, and to simply go outside.

I learned from this conversation that everyone ain’t trying to live their lives with sense.

If someone is about to present something to me and it make s sense, why deny its existence. What because it goes against what I thought to be true, and what makes me feel good?

No thank you.

Sense, logic, reasoning, and facts are synonyms to my definition of life. wi=hich equal evolving. Learning through experiences. I don’t have to break my wrist to find out that it hurts, I’ll listen to others and not get hurt.

You take the pain and I’ll make the gain.

There’s no point in the both of us being in the ditch.

You trip now I know to jump.

And that’s life. But not everyone lives accordingly. They believe falling, struggling is what makes them strong. But baby I don’t need the battle scars. It ain’t about just being alive, it’s about being wise, and avoiding a ditch so I try to open my eyes.

Now I know that Common Sense ain’t as common as I was told.

Savory Brown Spice

Asthmatic.

You make me feel asthmatic.

Faint of heart, at the same time it feels to big for my chest.

It swells, pauses, and skips to a beat just for you.

When you suddenly frown.

 

I could count my pulse without touching my skin when he comes close.

Even the bottom of his feet has a honey glow.

His abdomen firm as a drum.

Your back welcomes me home.

Your kiss, sweet as a mango warmed by the Islands sun.

Jazz, calypso, reggae, Reggaeton and my favorite soca song.

He’s my inner rhythm with no need for the Blues.

Rnb cant compose a song to express his moves.

But if I would choose one it would be Smokey Robison Cruise.

Gliding to our unspoken toon.

Your a savory brown spice.

Sprinkled all over my life.

 

 

%d bloggers like this: