The Twenty Sixth Day…

…the day someone left and never came back (not death related)

I make me sick…these questions, man…~sigh~ lol

Welp, I’ve already spoken about my ex, my BFF from 5th grade, and since it can’t be death related (I’m a fucking genius)…I can’t think of someone.

*sighs and stares at screen for a while*

OH! I got it!!!

This chick…she was my best friend. I grew up with her. Told her EVERYTHING and never once betrayed her…or at least I didn’t feel like I did. I loved her like a sister…she was part of my soul. She was me but in another form. All I thought about most days was what else she and I could get into. NO amount of drama in my life or distance from her could turn me against her.

I mean, did I hang out with others? Yes. Of course. I had other friends. I had my friend who I sang with all the time…staying up until the wee hours of the morning whispering in the dark and falling asleep on her. I even had one who became my go to for sexy advice. She helped me broaden my sensual self and learn to be in touch with the full-fledged woman dwelling deep within me. I have my fun friend who brings out the artistic side of me…

but, I miss my first best friend. She left and didn’t return. She seems gone forever. I look at reminders of how good we used to be together and I find myself hurting at how abrupt her exit was. I wonder if we can make up…if I can apologize and have her come back so we could make it right. I don’t know. Maybe she was jealous of my other connections and felt some kinda way. I never meant to make her feel that way…I just thought she always knew I’d defer to her…always remember her as my best.

Here’s a poem my friend reminded me of tonight…it speaks volumes to my heart space right now.

LOST ART

i’ve never felt this helpless
lost to the art
and afar from the center
so estranged from inspiration
…i don’t want
every poem to be a non-poem
of poetic pain
a plea to the god of bards
to lift the weight
off of my pen…
i can’t tell if it’s due
to lack of paramour
or presence of apathy
either way,
i’ve never been here so long
it just doesn’t feel like me

not only are poems stilled
and erotica chilled…
books won’t bind
stories won’t end
things begin…
and end again against my will
when i see works
of fellow quills
i burn with envy
for my own passions
to be fulfilled
…i can barely read
the scribes of others
while my own muse’s heat
is snuffed and smothered

i feel as if this helplessness
can’t be helped
…and just when,
think i’ve missed it
i shrug with indifference
and nestle comfortably in it
i wallow in silence
i slop in muddled thoughts
an eerie acceptance
of aimlessness and loss

i count the pieces of me
that have broken and been cast away
all of the events remembered
like white noise on repeated play
and i know
that somewhere adrift
are the words
that escaped to be free
traipsing hand in hand
refugees…
overjoyed and over me

maybe they’re in Tahiti
on my dream escapade
tanning, swimming and floating
basking in French Polynesian rays
i might be able to locate
a few in the family i never made
or took up with another poet,
spoken words on a stage
it’s possible,
they grew wings
and became angels
with “mi abuela”
love
peace
bliss
all fitted with little halos
some stuffed in a box
interlaced around a ring
or maybe they’ve become lyrics…
waiting for me to sing

i just wish i didn’t feel strange
a stranger to it all
i want to find my place again
i want to do it all
i want poetry
and novels
and erotica
and blogs
i want it easy
like it once was
before this overcast of fog
find me…
return to me,
i miss my inner bard
i want words, stanzas and depth again…
i want to find my heart

Words on Wings © 2010

Just know…I miss you my Muse…My Poetry. I hope you read this and don’t stay gone. Novels, Music and Erotica could never take your place. I love you. I miss you. I need you.

~*thank you Renee…you showed me…well ME*~ ❤

The Twenty Fifth Day…

…a day you’re currently planning for

I can’t say I’m planning…as in moment by moment. I do have a goal that involves my overall business.

I want to publish my books. I have a novel that needs copyrighting, an erotic book that needs finishing and I’m planning on a poetry book as well.

I actually am in the middle of writing several things at once…including the sequel to the finished novel.

I’m currently trying to nurture Fancy Face Kreations, so that too, is a goal of mine. To broaden my business connections, learn more tools to my trade and become a known name in my field. I never even thought I’d be doing it, but here I am…and good at it 🙂

I’m praying that I can catapult myself into self-sufficiency…to the degree that I can afford to do the things I’ve longed to do, such as travel and experience new things…to find inspiration for each of my crafts including photography.

So that’s it. lol

🙂

Langston & Nikki

I’ve been reading poetry lately…

It’s been a while, since I sat down and read something of someone else’s. I hate to be influenced by other styles when I’m trying to solidify my own…

I’m quite aware that, “good” poets are inspired by others’ works…but, GREAT poets set the bar. I’ve been told I’m great, but recently I feel sub par. Now, now…if you’ve read my stuff and you say, “Kali…cut it out. Your stuff is GREAT“…pump your breaks. YOU are officially biased…and quite possibly…you love me, so again…you work for me. LMAO

I mean sub par against some deeper more established poets. People whose works stand out and BRING it. I’m talking creativity, uniqueness, style and depth. I’m talking opening “it”…widening “it”…and quite possibly…putting a hole in “it” because the bottom ain’t deep enough.

I’ve been reading Langston Hughes and Nikki Giovanni online. How I came across my first poetry book was quite spiritual. My ex pastor of long ago (RIP Rev. Wilson) had a sister who I rarely ever saw…but, one day while at their family home she invited me up to her room. She’d heard from her brother and my mother that I wrote…and wanted to talk to me. Not long after sharing thoughts…she gave me Nikki’s “Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day“. Unfortunately, I lost that book when a relationship ended. ~sigh~ …I have every intention on replacing my book AND acquiring some others. I don’t think I saw his sister much after that…but, she told me I’d love it and I did.

You wanna know something? Other than the ones mentioned above and knowing “of” Sonia Sanchez and other historic bards like Yeats…I’ve never really been a reader of poetry books. I began writing…and that was it.  I had so much in my head that I just wrote. So much so that it got me in trouble (see, journals/diaries/secret notes).

As a child, I indulged in reading fables, researching encyclopedias for vast types of knowledge and as I got older, reading novels/urban tales and the occasional autobiography. I honestly don’t remember being enthralled by the works of others BESIDES Nikki Giovanni. I DO remember having an affinity for Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven“…but that was it. One night, my friend, Tei was reading poetry to me…sharing her love of books she’s come to own and I felt like I was “posing” as a writer while listening. I mean, how didn’t I have at least ONE book in my hand from a renowned poet/writer? How did I manage to call myself a writer without reading some classic books? I could never sit among a field of writers and exchange quips, lines and quotes from memory. I could never sit at a round table of poets and throw out titles of books or poems ad nauseum.

I don’t know…I’m not TOTALLY kicking myself for shits and giggles. I guess I am asking myself to consider taking what I like to call “poetic inventory”. I am going to start looking into finding some collections from the above and some I don’t know and IMMERSE myself in someone else’s craft. I’ve been tussling back and forth with my muse…and it’s tiring. Writing isn’t coming as easy as it once did and that worries me. Perhaps it’s time to focus on something other than what I can create. Maybe I ain’t so great. Doesn’t mean I can’t BECOME great…but, maybe I need to be inspired.

We’ll see…

For now…I wanted to share a poem from Nikki and Langston.

I Wrote A Good Omelet by Nikki Giovanni

I wrote a good omelet…
and ate a hot poem… after loving you


Buttoned my car…and drove my 
coat home…in the rain… 

after loving you


I goed on red…and stopped on 
green…floating somewhere in between… 
being here and being there… 

after loving you


I rolled my bed…turned down 
my hair…slightly 

confused but…I don’t care…


Laid out my teeth…and gargled my 
gown…then I stood 

…and laid me down…

To sleep… 

after loving you 


~smiling at this~



Gods by Langston Hughes
The ivory gods,
And the ebony gods,
And the gods of diamond and jade,
Sit silently on their temple shelves
While the people 
Are afraid.
Yet the ivory gods,
And the ebony gods,
And the gods of diamond-jade,
Are only silly puppet gods
That the people themselves
Have made
~ain’t that the truth~

…thank you for reading 🙂

When I Think of Poetry…

~I wrote this as an entry for a publishing company a while back…after reading it…I wanted to share it.~

            When I think of poetry, I think of youth. Poetry and I grew up together. Poetry has been my best friend and family. We traveled places together in and outside of my mind. When distress became a part of my daily routine, poetry was indeed my ace. If poetry and I went to school together, she’d be that friend that stuck up for me when I was bullied…when no one wanted to pick me for games, she’d choose me first.  We stayed up late nights shooting the breeze holding in giggles and swapping secrets. I told her of my crushes, heartbreaks, dreams and worries…while she told me of how special she thought I was. She wanted me to know that I always had her to rely on. She didn’t judge me, use and abuse me, disrespect me, throw me away, or take away the gifts she’d given. No, poetry was a giver and still is. 
            My idea of poetry has always been more about the esoteric. The quintessential element of things. The ability to capture the emotion of a moment. The beauty. The ugliness. The betrayal. The joy. The light. When I write, I see the words in movement. In my imagination, as I write…the words play out in my mind’s eye like a motion picture. I see the laughter, the tears, the hurt, the love, the beauty, the fear…all in my mind and heart as if I’m translating a true moment in time, taking place right then and there.
           Poetry to me isn’t just about rhyming or trying to create a picture as much as it is about me trying to capture the moment. Inspiration striking in bolts, dispensing sight and vision beheld in words and hidden meanings. Creating a piece of work that draws awe and sparks creative thoughts in the reader. To evoke emotions is what I like to do best. I love that my poetry has garnered positive nods of, “I’ve been through that” and “This spoke to me” because it allows me the chance to feel and believe that the emotions and state of mind I wrote the poem in…was translated in reading.
           I love words to the core. I used to read the dictionary and still sometimes find myself thumbing through one to reacquaint my mind with words I haven’t used in a while or never heard of at all. Poetry gives me a chance to take those words and string them into an expressionistic play on thought.  I’m allowing room for interpretation and depth…yet relatable and understandable to someone who may not be versed in grammar and vocabulary. I like to make the body of poetry so much more than the words used individually to bring it together.  My words, used to stroke hearts tenderly and minds thoughtfully.
           My ultimate vision is for poetry to become less of a “dreamer’s art” and more of a teacher, nurturer, lover, mentor, a bonder of people. I’d like to create a forum where like souls can feel related to and understood. To take the stigma away from poetry as something only lonely and brokenhearted people do. I have serious poems, light ones, sad ones, happy ones, erotic ones, playful ones. Some are spiritual and some border on profane.  We are multi-faceted as people and playing to one side is cheating the world of a full personality. I want people to see the genius in me, the silly girl, the intelligent sister, the saddened lover, the innocent-eyed child, and the scorned woman I can be.  My hope is to impact and impress…soulfully and deeply. I want to use one of the oldest forms of writing to embark on a new way of expression.  I want to give my heart a voice.

         

Um, yea…

…not much in the blogging mood so I’m just gonna leave you with a song, a poem and a piece of art.
I love Faith Evans…and this song is one of those songs that if you catch me in a certain mood, I’ll end up crying while singing. *getting choked up* This and “Reasons” just get me…

Until You Came – Faith Evans

I love poetry. I AM poetry and music. On any given day, I awake to one or the other…or both, shining rays of artistic shine on me. I sing in my sleep…oh yes I do…and poetry lives so deeply within, that I honestly believe that my picture should be next to the word in the dictionary. Anywho…I love this poem by Nikki Giovanni…”The Kidnap Poem”

ever been kidnapped
by a poet
if i were a poet
i’d kidnap you
put you in my phrases and meter
you to jones beach
or maybe coney island
or maybe just to my house
lyric you in lilacs
dash you in the rain
blend into the beach
to complement my see
play the lyre for you
ode you with my love song
anything to win you
wrap you in the red Black green
show you off to mama
yeah if i were a poet i’d 
kidnap you

Behind, writing, music, and cooking…I wish I’d painted. I love the concept of a mental picture playing out through loose colors and blurred lines. When looking for a piece of art to post here…I literally gasped and then teared up at the sight of all the impressionist paintings that came up. Wow. How beautiful are the colors? Anyway…here’s something that walked up, introduced itself and came right into my spirit…Something about scenery. I picture me being the eyes viewing this. A blanket underneath me, a breeze and air cascading effortlessly in and out of me. It’s a daydreamer’s thing, I guess. lol

Take the song…the poem…and the art…and breathe in some beauty for me. Happy Thanksgiving/Holidays to you all and be safe and blessed.

*um, did I blog again without knowing it?* LOL