Category Archives: writing

Eat Your Words

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Our brains are so smart

But sometimes not smart enough

To stop the verbal vomitwordle-weightofwords

That ran across our minds

And escaped over our tongues

Bitter to taste

They linger

And the air becomes thick with them

Pollution of the elusive kind

Because it may not just be our words

That made a break from the back of our throats

But others’ words have become stagnant in the air

And silence is longed for

But no amount of it

Can take back, repair, mend what was broken by our words

Silence cherished, after the fact

And the lava still boils

In the souls of the receiver

And the words which erupted

From the volcano of our mouths

Spill out into the already intense atmospheric pressure

And all any of us would like to do

Is retrieve them, eat them.

 

* I originally wrote this on 9-24-2014

 

Incognito

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It has been a few months and I have a very good reason for not posting. Wait for it…. I completed my MBA in marketing and wrapped up the end of another middle school year. Oh yeah, I also planned a christening for my youngest. I have so much to share because although I wasn’t posting, it doesn’t mean that I wasn’t writing. I’ve come up with a list of blog topics that can carry me through the remainder of the year and maybe into the beginning of next year. I also, wrote up a post and will edit that tomorrow before posting it tomorrow night. In the midst of all my “happenings”, I’ve been dealing with breaking soul ties (meant for a later discussion) with my children’s father. You know they always tend to pop back up.  So, I plan on being transparent about that situation and maybe providing someone else some insight into their own circumstances.

Although, this is not a real post and I plan on posting tomorrow, I just could not resist communicating with my followers and the blog itself. So I will chat with you later.

If you Dare Me…

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I will tell you the whole,being-transparent1

Unmitigated truth

It will spill from me

Like lava from a volcano

It may consume all the

Inhabitants in its immediate path

But from the burnt ground

And discarded souls

You will hear the truth

See it in the soil

Bare, naked

But rich, fruitful and renewed

If you dare me…

I will wait for you to pick

Up the ashes of my truths

And carefully handle them

Until they are cool against your heart

I will wait until your eyes

And mind connect the dots

While your conscience makes

A decision that your subconscious could not

If you dare me…

I’ll let my truth linger

For a moment in your village

I’ll let you rebuild your home

Decorate it new again, fresh again

But, if for any reason

You let the ashes from the lava of my truth

Completely be blown away and taken up by the tide

I will never be transparent

For you again.

 

 

Where are you headed?

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Q4 bus

From the Getty Collection

I am from Sax and Dora

patches of dust on a Quitman GA road

roosters crowing in the morning

and honeybee snuff on Eliza’s tongue

I am from the capital to Vietnam to NYC

streets considered the concrete jungle

From English Tudor homes and block parties

From 6 AM Sunday morning service

and fried fish Friday’s

From Linden Blvd and Merrick

I am from a generation of need

need reassurance

need direction

need love

need hope

need education

need money

need to find myself

need Jesus

I am from the strong-willed

and tough-love advocates

From the front porch games of

“that’s my car”

From backyard cookouts

and family in the same neighborhood

I am from New York!

Dear Stranger

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Image  I wrote this today in response to a prompt through #TeachersWrite.  This happened to me a couple of years back but it was one of those pivotal moments in life that you never forget.  One that changes you and your journey forever…

Dear Stranger,

 

It seemed like I used to know you but that must have been a long time ago.  Things have changed with me now and it almost seems as if I have lost my way.  But, it was you who sauntered into the room and decided that I was worth your time and that my dreams should no longer be deferred.  You looked me in the eyes and I asked me was I happy.  I couldn’t understand that you didn’t notice my smile and my laughter.  But, you saw past it and asked me who I was.  I went into a long detailed speech about how I am an educator, wannabe writer, mother, youngest sibling in my family but, not until I retreated back into my own solitude did I realize that wasn’t the question you were asking me at all.

 

How could this stranger notice what so many I have surrounded myself with did not?  How could this stranger ask me the one question that I have tried to avoid for quite some time?  Or maybe I had been waiting for someone to finally call attention to my pain.  It is funny how those who seem to want to be nonexistent, really want to exist and those who smile really want to cry.  For all of the charades that are put on, I think mine was an Oscar winner.

 

That stranger forced me to really look at myself, where I had been, where I was presently, and where I hoped to go.  It forced me to determine who I was and how that was in sharp contrast to who I wanted to be.  I took control that night after the tears and the stages of denial passed.  My days became truly brighter and more purposeful.  I am on a journey and have not yet reached my destination but, I am loving the route there.  I accept my challenges and do not rule them as my terminal fate.  And it is all thanks to the stranger with eyes that could see beyond what was in front of her.

 

Thank you and blessings,

 

Shay

Let me share…

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ImageI thought that I would share a poem that wrote in 2009.  This is my first time sharing anything like this on the internet if it wasn’t for a competition.  So here goes! (photo not mine)

Doubt

6-17-09

 

It’s a funny thing

How your reality of

My reality is not

The reality of

The situation

Your good humor

And passive aggressive conversation

Sets my imagination

And then my

Actual destination

To higher heights

Than when first conceived

Birth of a stronger substance

Than the putty

That your doubt

Tried to create

Therefore, I

Am not sure

Why your eyes

Hold lies and low expectations

When there has always been

A strong me,

A fierce competition

A determined sista

Albeit doubt.

Answering the Call

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ImageSo, I’m an educator and I am proud of this but there is something tugging at me.  It keeps nudging me and whispering how I will be known for education activism and my writing.  I will be a renowned author and I keep hearing it in my head.  Every time I look at the classifieds for a part time job to bring in extra income to pay the bills, I hear it.  As I go from my day job, to my night job, to come home and help the kids and then attend online class, I hear it.  And recently it started upping the ante.  It is know stating very matter-of-factly that I should not take another part time job and more time away from the kids or pursue yet another masters degree, just write.  The rest will work itself out.  It’s almost supernatural like I am following this voice and not my common sense that screams bills, bills, bills.  Yet I am happy to know the answer to my over-decade-old question ” who am I and what will I do?” I will write and people will read.  Some will love what I have to say and some will not.  I will hone my craft as time goes by and I will spend time with my kids and be happy and at peace.  I am loving this newfound epiphany.  Just write! And that is exactly what I will do.  If there is something that you have been obsessing over or that has been haunting you, confront it.  Maybe there are dozens of incomplete projects ( I know this situation personally).  Take one out and complete it.  Then go to the next.  Live the life that you want NOW and stop waiting for a more ‘opportune time’.  The time is NOW! 

First Day of #TeachersWrite

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typewriter-chapter-oneToday is the first day of #TeachersWrite which is a cohort of lovers of words that are getting together to nudge each other along on their writing journey’s. I was so excited for this day because I have been looking for a community of like-minded individuals (check out Kate Messner and Jo Knowles). I have been sitting on a couple of stories for a while now ( I will not even go into how awhile is). But, there is one that has been nudging me the hardest. It is always there in the back of my mind whispering to me phrases the main character (MC) would say. It pops up in social situations very randomly and I have to fidget around to get out one of my many notebooks to write something down that will be important to the story. The only problem is that I have let life get in the way and I have not sat down to keep writing past the first two chapters. Bits and pieces of other chapters are written but they are not fleshed out. The reader will not understand the true depth of the relationships between the characters. So, this summer along with obtaining photography for my poetry book, I will sit down and continue to write (if not complete) this YA work of fiction. Wish me luck!

List Maker

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I am a professional list maker.  I even have a list yourself book that helps with self-discovery as if my childhood and adult diaries and journals didn’t serve that purpose.  I have a ton of notebooks and notepads lying around my house, inserted into my work-bag or handbag containing numerous lists.  There is the grocery list, the bills-to-pay list, the to-do list, the books-to-read list, the change my life list, the list of great ideas and the next big invention list.  Some things have been checked off but, a lot haven’t and I am not deterred.  It is interesting to look back on lists that I created years ago to see how many things I have actually accomplished.  And even though there are things that have not been checked off as of yet, I am still making and updating lists.  On one of my most recent lists I pledged to post more.  I realized that writing in and of itself is therapeutic for me.  Sometimes I get so caught up in the details of things that the task appears daunting and nothing ever gets done because I have postponed the hefty task until a later date (usually “when I have more time,” ha ha ha).

My recommendation for those of you writers who have experienced these droughts and your emotions have been in the toilet, I can only offer you one simple piece of advice and that is to Write!  It feels good to post or write in my notebook and share with others.  And once I write, no matter what it is about, I find that my creative juices begin to flow.  As a single mama, time seems to move so fast with all of my to-do’s.  I just want to be able to say that each day, at some point, I wrote something important to me and that my children can look back to learn from.  Write on!!!