Love, aaaaahhhhh..love...that feeling.....that fleeting moment....that inspiration.....that thought....that groove.....that move.....that note....that melody.....that motion of the ocean....that touch....that misconception....and oh deception.....and yes, the inflection and retrospection. That prayer...that assurance......that tendency to want this.....even, when it don’t fit, is the reason, for the season of love!
In celebration of the “L” word, “In Dew Season” is sharing 28 days of love including stories from our book “Journeys of Love, Voices of the Heart,” from coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell, available now on www.HillabeesandRoses.com. They’ll also be poems from renowned poets and unknown artists, lyrics, advice, quotes and love notes for the entire month of February. So get ready...get set...GET LOVE!!!
Resignation, (by the great Nikki Giovanni)
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I'm sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
though my life is a mess
I love you
because I don't want it
any other way
I am helpless
in my love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it's been so good
for so long
that if I didn't love you
I'd have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can't sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you `cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Fallen Stars
As I sat and watched this legendary icon, this ball of fire, this multi-faceted talent, named Melba Moore, I was in awe. Now it’s true that while I’ve often had a soft spot for Jersey bred folk, my admiration, doesn’t begin there. It began, when I saw a woman with nothing more than passion, sing and dream her way to success. Despite the high and lows of the unforgiving entertainment industry, the drug and alcohol abuse, the loss of custody from her daughter, the divorces, the love affairs, the bankruptcy, the deception and oh yes, the loss of self. Regardless of it all, Ms. Moore, still stands. And for me, this was yet, another reminder, that no matter how big or small “we think” we are, or whatever achievements we reach, the greatest victories come from our falls. In them lie, our greatest lessons and blessings. And while her path may have been full of thorns, the crowns she received throughout her career can never be erased. And just like her story, our stories, are just that good. Our actions, our deeds and the impact we have in our own lives and in the lives of others are marks and imprints of our successes, failures and courage to move on even throughout our adversities. As the critics, and the people that knew her best over the years reflected on her life, there was a tendency to compare her to some of the greatest singers and talents of our time. To them, I say, she’s in a league of her own. There will never be another Whitney, Patti, Ella or Beyonce and why would we want one? Each of them was created uniquely and wonderfully, hand crafted and chosen to “dew” what they “dew.” And they are beautiful images of God, just like you and me.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
"I Desire"
Tonight I meditated on a song that brought me to tears. The lyrics were from a woman who desired to have more of God’s spirit in her life. She is broken hearted and thirsty for something more than what exists around her, something clear, not dirty or cloudy like the water she’s use to drinking to quench her thirst. She seeks clarity but knows that the only way that she can receive it, is to submit herself completely or at least long enough to experience something good.
Her desires, are not that far from my own. I want the every day confusion and uncertainty of my life to disappear like quick sand. Like my daily stress of wondering when and if a pink slip will arrive on “my” desk. Or if the car I’ve been driving since 1995 will make it into the new year or which bill I will or will not pay this month in order to put a smile on a loved ones face this Christmas. But then, I hear the word “submit” ring softly in my ear and I yield myself to the voice of my higher power.
Make no mistake about it though, I’m human, and not without fault. Therefore, the yielding and speaking part of me may not always match up with the ‘dewing’ part of me. In other words, I often choose to do my own thing by succumbing to worry, doubt and fear. Believe it or not, I haven’t always accepted the fact that my needs and desires will be taken care of as long as I am patient and believe.
My mind might not be able to grasp this concept, but my heart will. And this, is where, the best part of that songs rings true that when I fall on my knees, and attend my prayer with God he will take me beyond the veil..and give me more of him….and she asks, if it’s not to much to ask, I want a deeper relationship with you, I want the oil of God to flow in me through and through..here I am..on bending knee with out stretched arms crying Lord, not my will but your will..less of me and more of you. What an awesome experience, and what a joy it is to know that everything that we go through whatever it is, regardless of the severity or level of importance in our own eyes we dew it in partnership with the creator and there’s simply, nothing, better than that.
Her desires, are not that far from my own. I want the every day confusion and uncertainty of my life to disappear like quick sand. Like my daily stress of wondering when and if a pink slip will arrive on “my” desk. Or if the car I’ve been driving since 1995 will make it into the new year or which bill I will or will not pay this month in order to put a smile on a loved ones face this Christmas. But then, I hear the word “submit” ring softly in my ear and I yield myself to the voice of my higher power.
Make no mistake about it though, I’m human, and not without fault. Therefore, the yielding and speaking part of me may not always match up with the ‘dewing’ part of me. In other words, I often choose to do my own thing by succumbing to worry, doubt and fear. Believe it or not, I haven’t always accepted the fact that my needs and desires will be taken care of as long as I am patient and believe.
My mind might not be able to grasp this concept, but my heart will. And this, is where, the best part of that songs rings true that when I fall on my knees, and attend my prayer with God he will take me beyond the veil..and give me more of him….and she asks, if it’s not to much to ask, I want a deeper relationship with you, I want the oil of God to flow in me through and through..here I am..on bending knee with out stretched arms crying Lord, not my will but your will..less of me and more of you. What an awesome experience, and what a joy it is to know that everything that we go through whatever it is, regardless of the severity or level of importance in our own eyes we dew it in partnership with the creator and there’s simply, nothing, better than that.
Friday, October 2, 2009
"Dead King Furniture" By Landis Lane from "Journeys of Love Voices of The Heart"
"In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month"
When my Aunt Ruby died several years ago, I was stuck with her furniture. I can’t tell you why, it just happened. After a long, fruitless battle with breast cancer, which ravaged her once luscious curves and ended her life; all that remained was her furniture.
She didn’t just die…she faded away. She breathed slowly then drifted off on a wave of painkilling morphine. We all sat around the bed, not quite realizing that it was over. Finally, we shook ourselves out of the stupor of what seemed like an endless vigil. After all the arrangements had been made, we read the will.
She left the furniture to her son, Leon. He took one last look at the ornate carved curls and gilded wood amidst the satin embroidered seat cushions and said, “I couldn’t sit on that “crap” when I was a kid so why would I want to sit on it now? You can have it.”
I still don’t know why he looked directly at me when he made that comment. I should have said, “No, you keep it, I really don’t like gold-painted wood and aquamarine satin.” I thought about that all the way to the U-haul company where Leon and a few of my other cousins cheerfully loaded the sheet-laden couch, chair and glass-top table into the truck. The table was heavy and it took three grunting, sweaty cousins to hoist it into the trailer. They stopped for a beer break in between grunts and back strain. Then suddenly, I opened my mouth to tell them that I didn’t want this “crap”, but the words stuck in my throat as though some unseen hand reached up to choke me, preventing me from breathing. They didn’t look too pleased with my expression.
“But—but,” I stuttered.
Their narrowed eyes and perched lips indicated that unloading all that heavy furniture was not going to happen. The blood-red-and white-trimmed crystal lamp was to ride in the back of my car, cushioned by blankets and down comforters to keep the crystals from shattering. Each crystal had been lovingly wrapped in tissue paper by my cousin’s wife, Portia. She was probably on her knees thanking God that she wasn’t going to be shamed into keeping this monstrous stuff. What had I ever done to Aunt Ruby to be saddled with her furniture?
I was a dutiful niece. I visited and often read to her. I smiled at her, told her jokes and ignored her grimaces of laughing pain. I even combed and styled her sparse hair until it fell out and then bought her flamboyant wigs to cover her smooth pate.
She didn’t even leave it to me, I wailed inwardly, as I watched the chair, tables and finally the couch being wrestled into my living room. Leon transported the crystal lamp to the marble-top table and with a jaunty salute, a quick kiss on my forehead, and a military about-face, he and my cousins left me to contemplate my fate.
I sank into the chair and pouted. Then suddenly, a vision of my once beautiful Aunt Ruby raised itself from the couch and said, “Hi baby, you remember when I got this couch? I was so proud of myself.” She smiled at me with that flirtatious smile that used to allow her to get her way with everybody in the family.
“But Ruby,” I said, “This…this Louis the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, whatever, it’s just so… so…”
“Beautiful,” she finished, rubbing a ghostly hand over the satin seat cushions.
“I had to work really hard to get this, baby. I know you probably don’t remember that I used to work in that old white couple’s house. I
used to work my fingers to the bone for them.”
I remembered that they were an “old money” rich couple that Ruby worked for. My aunt sure could clean. Her own house was always so spotless that we were afraid to sit on the floor. And we never dreamed of sitting on her furniture.
“Yes, Ruby,” I said, “I do remember them.” She smiled a little sadly, perhaps reminiscing about the past.
And then I thought to myself, “Ruby, if it’s the last thing you do, you are going to get this couch,” but then she floated up from it, grabbed the back of the gilt and steadied herself.
“I guess I haven’t gotten the hang of this ghostly visitation stuff yet,” she said and giggled.
I laughed out loud then suddenly remembered just how much I missed her famous laugh.
“I had to clean day and night for years to get this furniture,” she said. “I sacrificed and ate beans, just so I could get it. I looked in the store window and gazed at that furniture every day while I waited for the bus to take me home. I always knew that I was going to be “high-class folk” when I finally got it in my house. I scrubbed a lot of floors for this couch. And it’s Louis the Fourteenth, by the way. He was French.”
“Aunt Ruby, you were always high-class people, but it’s still dead-king furniture,” I said stubbornly.
“Just sit on it for me, baby,” she said, fading just a little in her sweet soprano voice. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t sit on my furniture when I had the chance. I always thought that it was too pretty to sit on.”
“You were prettier than the furniture, Aunt Ruby,” I said, remembering all of the beautiful gifts she’d ever given me and now realizing just how hard she had to clean to buy them for me. To this day, I see her twisting her fine hips and popping her long bleach chapped fingers, teaching me how to dance the Four Corners and the Mashed Potato. I also see us sitting in her kitchen while she pressed and curled my hair on a sunny Easter day. I can still smell the scent of singed hair. She always told me that the path to beauty was slicked with hair grease and Marcel curling irons. Tears clogged my eyes as she smiled at me one last time, with that fabulous gap-toothed grin that I had seen in all of her younger pictures. I blew her a kiss as she disappeared like spray mist from a perfume bottle. I got up from the chair and finally sat on the couch.
“I guess from now on, I’ll consider this dead queen furniture. And I’ll sit on it every day in your honor,” I said. As the sun sparkled on the ruby crystals of the lamp, I rested on the couch made for a king but fit for a queen.
From the love anthology, "Journeys of Love Voices of The Heart," Coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell
When my Aunt Ruby died several years ago, I was stuck with her furniture. I can’t tell you why, it just happened. After a long, fruitless battle with breast cancer, which ravaged her once luscious curves and ended her life; all that remained was her furniture.
She didn’t just die…she faded away. She breathed slowly then drifted off on a wave of painkilling morphine. We all sat around the bed, not quite realizing that it was over. Finally, we shook ourselves out of the stupor of what seemed like an endless vigil. After all the arrangements had been made, we read the will.
She left the furniture to her son, Leon. He took one last look at the ornate carved curls and gilded wood amidst the satin embroidered seat cushions and said, “I couldn’t sit on that “crap” when I was a kid so why would I want to sit on it now? You can have it.”
I still don’t know why he looked directly at me when he made that comment. I should have said, “No, you keep it, I really don’t like gold-painted wood and aquamarine satin.” I thought about that all the way to the U-haul company where Leon and a few of my other cousins cheerfully loaded the sheet-laden couch, chair and glass-top table into the truck. The table was heavy and it took three grunting, sweaty cousins to hoist it into the trailer. They stopped for a beer break in between grunts and back strain. Then suddenly, I opened my mouth to tell them that I didn’t want this “crap”, but the words stuck in my throat as though some unseen hand reached up to choke me, preventing me from breathing. They didn’t look too pleased with my expression.
“But—but,” I stuttered.
Their narrowed eyes and perched lips indicated that unloading all that heavy furniture was not going to happen. The blood-red-and white-trimmed crystal lamp was to ride in the back of my car, cushioned by blankets and down comforters to keep the crystals from shattering. Each crystal had been lovingly wrapped in tissue paper by my cousin’s wife, Portia. She was probably on her knees thanking God that she wasn’t going to be shamed into keeping this monstrous stuff. What had I ever done to Aunt Ruby to be saddled with her furniture?
I was a dutiful niece. I visited and often read to her. I smiled at her, told her jokes and ignored her grimaces of laughing pain. I even combed and styled her sparse hair until it fell out and then bought her flamboyant wigs to cover her smooth pate.
She didn’t even leave it to me, I wailed inwardly, as I watched the chair, tables and finally the couch being wrestled into my living room. Leon transported the crystal lamp to the marble-top table and with a jaunty salute, a quick kiss on my forehead, and a military about-face, he and my cousins left me to contemplate my fate.
I sank into the chair and pouted. Then suddenly, a vision of my once beautiful Aunt Ruby raised itself from the couch and said, “Hi baby, you remember when I got this couch? I was so proud of myself.” She smiled at me with that flirtatious smile that used to allow her to get her way with everybody in the family.
“But Ruby,” I said, “This…this Louis the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, whatever, it’s just so… so…”
“Beautiful,” she finished, rubbing a ghostly hand over the satin seat cushions.
“I had to work really hard to get this, baby. I know you probably don’t remember that I used to work in that old white couple’s house. I
used to work my fingers to the bone for them.”
I remembered that they were an “old money” rich couple that Ruby worked for. My aunt sure could clean. Her own house was always so spotless that we were afraid to sit on the floor. And we never dreamed of sitting on her furniture.
“Yes, Ruby,” I said, “I do remember them.” She smiled a little sadly, perhaps reminiscing about the past.
And then I thought to myself, “Ruby, if it’s the last thing you do, you are going to get this couch,” but then she floated up from it, grabbed the back of the gilt and steadied herself.
“I guess I haven’t gotten the hang of this ghostly visitation stuff yet,” she said and giggled.
I laughed out loud then suddenly remembered just how much I missed her famous laugh.
“I had to clean day and night for years to get this furniture,” she said. “I sacrificed and ate beans, just so I could get it. I looked in the store window and gazed at that furniture every day while I waited for the bus to take me home. I always knew that I was going to be “high-class folk” when I finally got it in my house. I scrubbed a lot of floors for this couch. And it’s Louis the Fourteenth, by the way. He was French.”
“Aunt Ruby, you were always high-class people, but it’s still dead-king furniture,” I said stubbornly.
“Just sit on it for me, baby,” she said, fading just a little in her sweet soprano voice. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t sit on my furniture when I had the chance. I always thought that it was too pretty to sit on.”
“You were prettier than the furniture, Aunt Ruby,” I said, remembering all of the beautiful gifts she’d ever given me and now realizing just how hard she had to clean to buy them for me. To this day, I see her twisting her fine hips and popping her long bleach chapped fingers, teaching me how to dance the Four Corners and the Mashed Potato. I also see us sitting in her kitchen while she pressed and curled my hair on a sunny Easter day. I can still smell the scent of singed hair. She always told me that the path to beauty was slicked with hair grease and Marcel curling irons. Tears clogged my eyes as she smiled at me one last time, with that fabulous gap-toothed grin that I had seen in all of her younger pictures. I blew her a kiss as she disappeared like spray mist from a perfume bottle. I got up from the chair and finally sat on the couch.
“I guess from now on, I’ll consider this dead queen furniture. And I’ll sit on it every day in your honor,” I said. As the sun sparkled on the ruby crystals of the lamp, I rested on the couch made for a king but fit for a queen.
From the love anthology, "Journeys of Love Voices of The Heart," Coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A New Lease
A new lease on life…a new lease on life…sometimes that’s the only thing we can ask for when hard times come and nothing ever seems to go our way. Not the job, or marriage/relationship, not our finances or the things we need to rid ourselves of most. Like the “dirty” little habits that keep popping up in our lives. It doesn’t matter what they are…that drink, that drug…that addiction to love. Whatever it is, we’ve got to remember that when we fall “it’s never too late to get off the ground and do the things we want to do in life.” This simple truth comes, from a person, who knows this more than most.
When I read an article, about a 43 year old man playing football for Clark Atlanta University as a tight end, I laughed and thought to myself, what would an old, has been, need to prove at his age? He’s certainly no Michael Jordan, George Foreman or any other well known athlete. But a man, with heart and desire to show that he wasn’t giving up on life. Jeff Chaskin was finally learning to turn it around after having struggled from alcohol and drug addiction for more than 25 years. Not only was he doing it for himself but his family, the wife and 8 children that he loved so much. And he wasn’t going to let the fact that he had been arrested just 1 year prior for cocaine possession stop him from doing just that. In his glory days he was a successful businessman with a thriving lawn care business but nothing could shield him from the influences of “the fast life.” One might say that Chaskin was suffering from more than a deep addiction, he was suffering from a case of more money, more problems. But as fate would have it, 8 months of prison, reading the bible and 500 hundred push ups later he was on his way to reclaiming everything that was stolen from him. Like the promising football career he lost when he was in college several years ago and the marriage that failed from his rampant drug use. Yet, even with the braces on his arthritic knees that are drained every 3 weeks and the fact that he’s the only white male player at a historically black college, simply wearing #43 on his back makes up for all of it. To see the smiles or hear the praises from his team mates and family is probably recognition enough even if it is only for a season. But what matters most is the example of the “dew season” in the life of man who could have given up but chose to run another way.
When I read an article, about a 43 year old man playing football for Clark Atlanta University as a tight end, I laughed and thought to myself, what would an old, has been, need to prove at his age? He’s certainly no Michael Jordan, George Foreman or any other well known athlete. But a man, with heart and desire to show that he wasn’t giving up on life. Jeff Chaskin was finally learning to turn it around after having struggled from alcohol and drug addiction for more than 25 years. Not only was he doing it for himself but his family, the wife and 8 children that he loved so much. And he wasn’t going to let the fact that he had been arrested just 1 year prior for cocaine possession stop him from doing just that. In his glory days he was a successful businessman with a thriving lawn care business but nothing could shield him from the influences of “the fast life.” One might say that Chaskin was suffering from more than a deep addiction, he was suffering from a case of more money, more problems. But as fate would have it, 8 months of prison, reading the bible and 500 hundred push ups later he was on his way to reclaiming everything that was stolen from him. Like the promising football career he lost when he was in college several years ago and the marriage that failed from his rampant drug use. Yet, even with the braces on his arthritic knees that are drained every 3 weeks and the fact that he’s the only white male player at a historically black college, simply wearing #43 on his back makes up for all of it. To see the smiles or hear the praises from his team mates and family is probably recognition enough even if it is only for a season. But what matters most is the example of the “dew season” in the life of man who could have given up but chose to run another way.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
"I Wanna Kidnap You"....featuring Mi Mi, Nakita Cook Young & Hillary Roy
If you've never been kidnapped before..today "We Wanna Kidnap You"....
“I Wanna Kidnap You”….
By “Mi Mi”
I wanna kidnap you…..
And go back to summer days
When days were hot
Nights were even hotter
I wanna kidnap you….
Never setting you free
And hold you till you see
That everything is better
When it’s you and me
The nights that I lay beside you
Holding on to thoughts of your essence
Drawing you closer with every breath that I take
No longer awake because I only have you when I dream
So what does this mean?
I wanna kidnap you…
You're in my head, never really there,
Never really where I'd always hoped you'd be
Can never see you in a way I'd hoped I'd see
I wanna kidnap you…..
All I wanna do is be, with you
Whenever, wherever, however that means.
Hoping that in this world when I dream
You will invade my reality
I wanna kidnap you….
This seems to be the only place where I am at peace…
Nights that I lay beside you
In this bed that we share
In this bed of air, in this bed of nothing there
Nothing there but just air
I wanna kidnap you….
“I Wanna Kidnap You”……..
By Nakita Cook Young
I committed a crime of the heart….I shanghaied and took my lover by force
I could wait no longer as my emotions would no longer stand still
I was inflicted and overcome mentally and physically
with interludes of romantic voyages and adventures of desire
The sensation came with such amazing speed and suddenness and
before I knew it I was taking my love against his will!
I acted exactly as my heart dictated…and I used my womanhood as my choice of
weapon; I stalked and prowled every inch of his body with my unlawful intentions;
I locked him up in my love and held him captive, with my unbridled kisses and
touches and my Karma Sutra body positions!
I’m not in command of my desire, passion and sexual prowess
I can no longer help myself I’ve got to get close to my divine so
I drugged, coerced and abducted him with my sexual appeal
I kept him restrained by sedating him with hot shots of my sweetness!
Boy you got me so gone over you my mind is slippin
with just the mere thought of you my love starts to flow and I start trippin
but, I don’t give fugg ….The jonz in my bonz got me thinking crazy
and I’m down to do whatever it takes to get next to you baby!
even if that’s locking you up and “throwing away the key” and keeping you prisoner!
I’m Never, Never gonna give you up even if the cops come knockin
There ain’t a damn thing that I won’t do to keep you as a hostage
I got you right where I want you gagged and bound in my allurement
Nothing else even matters to me but, my ransom and demands…
Touch all places that make me hot, love me from the bottom to the top,
and make me scream and holla!
This wild and excited unlawful escapade escalated and intensified
I got caught up in the rapture and swept away in the sexual euphoria
I was possessed by my sexual insanity and got hung up with passion
And that’s when it happened my kidnapping plans were foiled and I became his capture.
Thoughts of passion and sweet sensations drove me to do it
He takes my body over the edge with a feeling of awe!
It was a crime of the heart, an act of love is… necessarily punishable by law
I can't help from thinking this is how it’s suppose to be I belong to you…and
baby you belong to me!
“I Wanna Kidnap You”…….
By Hillary Roy
This..
is…
a stick up..
And I wanna kidnap you..
I wanna pick pocket every emotion running through you
Hold u, console u
Put u up for ransom
Then.. kidnap u….
Again, and again and again
No need to try and hide from me
I love u this is my decree
And earth is only but so wide
Can’t show the love I feel inside
This is a stick up
and
I
wanna
kidnap
you
I’ll trace the footprints of your steps in sand
And when I do, “you’ll” do, as “I” command….
8 hours, 20 minutes, 6 seconds will be
Almost as long as eternity
I’m just securing what’s mine you see
My prize possession he’ll always be
I’ll cook, I’ll clean, I’ll keep it real…
Give him a love that’s etched in steel
And passion that is oh so thick,
oh trust me “he’d” be turning tricks
So yes I’m guilty of this crime
I’ll thankfully do whatever time
Cuz I’m just securing what’s mine you see
And making sure we’ll always be
“we”…..
“I Wanna Kidnap You”….
By “Mi Mi”
I wanna kidnap you…..
And go back to summer days
When days were hot
Nights were even hotter
I wanna kidnap you….
Never setting you free
And hold you till you see
That everything is better
When it’s you and me
The nights that I lay beside you
Holding on to thoughts of your essence
Drawing you closer with every breath that I take
No longer awake because I only have you when I dream
So what does this mean?
I wanna kidnap you…
You're in my head, never really there,
Never really where I'd always hoped you'd be
Can never see you in a way I'd hoped I'd see
I wanna kidnap you…..
All I wanna do is be, with you
Whenever, wherever, however that means.
Hoping that in this world when I dream
You will invade my reality
I wanna kidnap you….
This seems to be the only place where I am at peace…
Nights that I lay beside you
In this bed that we share
In this bed of air, in this bed of nothing there
Nothing there but just air
I wanna kidnap you….
“I Wanna Kidnap You”……..
By Nakita Cook Young
I committed a crime of the heart….I shanghaied and took my lover by force
I could wait no longer as my emotions would no longer stand still
I was inflicted and overcome mentally and physically
with interludes of romantic voyages and adventures of desire
The sensation came with such amazing speed and suddenness and
before I knew it I was taking my love against his will!
I acted exactly as my heart dictated…and I used my womanhood as my choice of
weapon; I stalked and prowled every inch of his body with my unlawful intentions;
I locked him up in my love and held him captive, with my unbridled kisses and
touches and my Karma Sutra body positions!
I’m not in command of my desire, passion and sexual prowess
I can no longer help myself I’ve got to get close to my divine so
I drugged, coerced and abducted him with my sexual appeal
I kept him restrained by sedating him with hot shots of my sweetness!
Boy you got me so gone over you my mind is slippin
with just the mere thought of you my love starts to flow and I start trippin
but, I don’t give fugg ….The jonz in my bonz got me thinking crazy
and I’m down to do whatever it takes to get next to you baby!
even if that’s locking you up and “throwing away the key” and keeping you prisoner!
I’m Never, Never gonna give you up even if the cops come knockin
There ain’t a damn thing that I won’t do to keep you as a hostage
I got you right where I want you gagged and bound in my allurement
Nothing else even matters to me but, my ransom and demands…
Touch all places that make me hot, love me from the bottom to the top,
and make me scream and holla!
This wild and excited unlawful escapade escalated and intensified
I got caught up in the rapture and swept away in the sexual euphoria
I was possessed by my sexual insanity and got hung up with passion
And that’s when it happened my kidnapping plans were foiled and I became his capture.
Thoughts of passion and sweet sensations drove me to do it
He takes my body over the edge with a feeling of awe!
It was a crime of the heart, an act of love is… necessarily punishable by law
I can't help from thinking this is how it’s suppose to be I belong to you…and
baby you belong to me!
“I Wanna Kidnap You”…….
By Hillary Roy
This..
is…
a stick up..
And I wanna kidnap you..
I wanna pick pocket every emotion running through you
Hold u, console u
Put u up for ransom
Then.. kidnap u….
Again, and again and again
No need to try and hide from me
I love u this is my decree
And earth is only but so wide
Can’t show the love I feel inside
This is a stick up
and
I
wanna
kidnap
you
I’ll trace the footprints of your steps in sand
And when I do, “you’ll” do, as “I” command….
8 hours, 20 minutes, 6 seconds will be
Almost as long as eternity
I’m just securing what’s mine you see
My prize possession he’ll always be
I’ll cook, I’ll clean, I’ll keep it real…
Give him a love that’s etched in steel
And passion that is oh so thick,
oh trust me “he’d” be turning tricks
So yes I’m guilty of this crime
I’ll thankfully do whatever time
Cuz I’m just securing what’s mine you see
And making sure we’ll always be
“we”…..
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Who Cares About Gail King...My Name Is.......
Last Saturday I went to one of the most powerful empowerment sessions I’ve attended in a long time. But, I gotta admit, I was a little intimidated. When I first walked through the doors of the CAU recreation center (that’s short for Clark Atlanta University) I could feel the tension in the air as more than 100 women from all over the Atlanta sat in upward poses as if they were being auditioned for a top model shoot. There were Prada bags, weaves and Mac cosmetic adorned faces that were so flawless I knew I couldn't’t compete. And why would I want to since this isn’t what that day represented. At least not for me and probably not for any of the other women who attended the first annual I AM WEEN (Women in Entertainment Empowerment Network) Tour held in Atlanta. It wasn’t about “appearances” or profiling, it wasn’t about name dropping either, it was simply a day, for students and women of all backgrounds to come together and gain insight from some of the hottest trailblazers in the entertainment industry.
From the moment I heard Lauren Lake speak I knew the day was going to be special. Not only is she an attorney but also a motivational speaker, a television personality, author of the book “Girl! Let Me Tell You,” and former host of the HGTV show “Spice Up My Kitchen.” She along with 6 others panelists including: Nina Brown ( V-103’s morning show producer), Phaedra Parks (Entertainment Attorney, The Parks Group/Executive Consulting Producer of BET's “Tiny & Toya” show), Terrence J. (BET's 106 & Park co-host), Shanti Das(Executive Vice President of Universal Motown), Chaka Zulu (Disturbing the Peace Records, Ludacris’ label), Stacey Lee ( Former Miss Michigan ), Kaira Akita Whitehead (Actor, Tyler Perry Films) graced us with an afternoon of pure, unadulterated honesty and wisdom. At times I often felt like I was sitting in my living room talking to a few of my best friends because the conversations flowed that easily. I listened carefully as Nina Brown detailed the steps she took to become the producer of one of Atlanta's hottest morning radio shows. And even at 23yrs of age she wasn’t going to let that number or some veteran radio talent stop her from pursuing that dream. So with a little determination, tenacity and a strong willingness to learn she made it happen. Next up was Phaedra Parks, an well known entertainment attorney who credited her entrance into the business after having a conversation with a well known radio personality and mentor. But when Terrence J.from BET payed homage to his mother for being the catalyst and driving force for his career I couldn't help but feel his pride. He spoke of a young woman who became pregnant at 17 years of age who never had the chance to pursue her own dreams therefore, she became the fuel that ignited his hope of entering the entertainment industry. And with that, came the promise, to return every, single hope and dream his mom had loss. But the moment that stood out for me the most was when a woman in the audience asked how she could rekindle a tie she had established with Oprah's best friend, Gail King. It was a chance meeting she had with her many, many years ago that still had her feeling as if she had missed her shot at fame and fortune. After all was said, a very direct Ms. Lake looked her straight in the eye and replied…”Stop waiting for Gail King or anyone else to give you what you already have, create what “you” want for yourself.”
As I meditated on her words I remembered all my mentors, friends, and the people in my life that I had waited on to "take me" where I wanted to go. I wanted the gain without the pain and that's just not how the universe works. Simply talking about the place that I wanted to be wasn’t going to be enough. I had to have a vision and position myself for God’s blessings to flow through me and around me. I had to learn that I could no longer be a “pity party mess” and just dew what I needed to dew for myself. Then and only then did the visions of my life, not anyone elses become clear. One seed at a time I planted and used the gifts and talents God gave me and with his grace and hard work I'll continue to dew my thing.
From the moment I heard Lauren Lake speak I knew the day was going to be special. Not only is she an attorney but also a motivational speaker, a television personality, author of the book “Girl! Let Me Tell You,” and former host of the HGTV show “Spice Up My Kitchen.” She along with 6 others panelists including: Nina Brown ( V-103’s morning show producer), Phaedra Parks (Entertainment Attorney, The Parks Group/Executive Consulting Producer of BET's “Tiny & Toya” show), Terrence J. (BET's 106 & Park co-host), Shanti Das(Executive Vice President of Universal Motown), Chaka Zulu (Disturbing the Peace Records, Ludacris’ label), Stacey Lee ( Former Miss Michigan ), Kaira Akita Whitehead (Actor, Tyler Perry Films) graced us with an afternoon of pure, unadulterated honesty and wisdom. At times I often felt like I was sitting in my living room talking to a few of my best friends because the conversations flowed that easily. I listened carefully as Nina Brown detailed the steps she took to become the producer of one of Atlanta's hottest morning radio shows. And even at 23yrs of age she wasn’t going to let that number or some veteran radio talent stop her from pursuing that dream. So with a little determination, tenacity and a strong willingness to learn she made it happen. Next up was Phaedra Parks, an well known entertainment attorney who credited her entrance into the business after having a conversation with a well known radio personality and mentor. But when Terrence J.from BET payed homage to his mother for being the catalyst and driving force for his career I couldn't help but feel his pride. He spoke of a young woman who became pregnant at 17 years of age who never had the chance to pursue her own dreams therefore, she became the fuel that ignited his hope of entering the entertainment industry. And with that, came the promise, to return every, single hope and dream his mom had loss. But the moment that stood out for me the most was when a woman in the audience asked how she could rekindle a tie she had established with Oprah's best friend, Gail King. It was a chance meeting she had with her many, many years ago that still had her feeling as if she had missed her shot at fame and fortune. After all was said, a very direct Ms. Lake looked her straight in the eye and replied…”Stop waiting for Gail King or anyone else to give you what you already have, create what “you” want for yourself.”
As I meditated on her words I remembered all my mentors, friends, and the people in my life that I had waited on to "take me" where I wanted to go. I wanted the gain without the pain and that's just not how the universe works. Simply talking about the place that I wanted to be wasn’t going to be enough. I had to have a vision and position myself for God’s blessings to flow through me and around me. I had to learn that I could no longer be a “pity party mess” and just dew what I needed to dew for myself. Then and only then did the visions of my life, not anyone elses become clear. One seed at a time I planted and used the gifts and talents God gave me and with his grace and hard work I'll continue to dew my thing.
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