You’re twelve years old,” what do you mean you’re too old to jump rope?”
No, you’re too young to deep throat.
You’re rushing yourself.
You don’t want to need drugs to cope.
There is only one that can fully construct that boat.
In the meantime you’ll be patched up and pacified.
Some may tell you the truth will you believe it you’ve heard so many lies
Weighed down because of soul ties.
We’ve all traveled a compromising path, spiritually unsupervised.
We’re attracted to the baby makers, the emotionally detached, the heart breakers, that tell us let’s do this now and I’ll love you later.
We become drawn in by our own pretending and find ourselves subconsciously submitting.
The shoe that you are trying to wear doesn’t seem to be fitting.
They’ll slide off and cause you to trip.
Take time to learn and observe then let the words flow from your lips.
The throwing of your hips, just quit.
I don’t know if you were told, but there is a time limited on being a hottie.
Don’t wear out your body
And leave your emotions in a mess.
Strenuous on one’s mind is that thing known as regret.
In some respects, I believe that youth is wasted on the young.
I urge you to take a walk, ride a bike, go for a run.
Don’t open that door that gives all access to your heart, soul, spirit, and mind.
Yes. It is a challenge to tame and takes a conscience effort to keep in check.
Don’t give him none.
Don’t give him it.
Resist!
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas,All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Watered
I’m in full bloom with red leaves, like a tree before mid-fall
I feel like I haven’t been watered at all
Maybe because there was a drought this season
Watch how I can give all these reasons
Why I feel the way I do
I’ll be careful with how I communicate my feelings lest I lead some astray or aloof
My pillow is wet from my tears and covered in long strands of my hair that are no longer attached to my head
My legs won’t cooperate therefore I can’t even get out of bed
My face and body is red, brown, burning and itching
I am laying here and it is family, friends, companionship, and love relationships that I am missing
I am missing the ease of physical mobility
I am longing for peace and tranquility
All of this and I still consider myself to be in full bloom, like a tree before mid-fall
I am in need of a little water and need not to feel like I’m up against the wall
I have not stopped writing
I have not stopped dreaming
But I do notice that my mind is clinging
To everything that could’ve been
I’m banging and yelling at the top of my lungs
Yet no one will let me in
My pockets are empty and my purse is flat
My ambition is untamed
But the outward appearance of things doesn’t support such facts
I am in full bloom with red leaves, some leaves are beginning to turn brown and fall
My thirst is overwhelming
I feel like I haven’t been watered at all
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
I feel like I haven’t been watered at all
Maybe because there was a drought this season
Watch how I can give all these reasons
Why I feel the way I do
I’ll be careful with how I communicate my feelings lest I lead some astray or aloof
My pillow is wet from my tears and covered in long strands of my hair that are no longer attached to my head
My legs won’t cooperate therefore I can’t even get out of bed
My face and body is red, brown, burning and itching
I am laying here and it is family, friends, companionship, and love relationships that I am missing
I am missing the ease of physical mobility
I am longing for peace and tranquility
All of this and I still consider myself to be in full bloom, like a tree before mid-fall
I am in need of a little water and need not to feel like I’m up against the wall
I have not stopped writing
I have not stopped dreaming
But I do notice that my mind is clinging
To everything that could’ve been
I’m banging and yelling at the top of my lungs
Yet no one will let me in
My pockets are empty and my purse is flat
My ambition is untamed
But the outward appearance of things doesn’t support such facts
I am in full bloom with red leaves, some leaves are beginning to turn brown and fall
My thirst is overwhelming
I feel like I haven’t been watered at all
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
As We Go Through Life
As we go through life we do our best to live with our painful past
Claim to keep it real
But we wear so many masks
Our response when asked how we are doing is, “I’m fine”
When we are really tired and hurting
Feeling confined
In some cases spiritually blind
The response, “I’m fine”, is just the less complicated line
You know I’m blessed
But it is this I must confess
I’m all out of solutions
Woo! That felt good to get off my chest
My emotions are in such a mess
Oh by the way there have been some promises and secrets I should’ve kept
Had friends that I should’ve never befriended
Wrote letters and should’ve never sent it
Please know that if I never told you I loved you I meant it
I apologize if it was you that I offended
As we go through life we do our best to make due
Live with the lie and or haunted by the truth
We are who we are, by far
We either soar in spite of
Or do what is necessary because of the constant reminder of the scars
As we go through life
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
Claim to keep it real
But we wear so many masks
Our response when asked how we are doing is, “I’m fine”
When we are really tired and hurting
Feeling confined
In some cases spiritually blind
The response, “I’m fine”, is just the less complicated line
You know I’m blessed
But it is this I must confess
I’m all out of solutions
Woo! That felt good to get off my chest
My emotions are in such a mess
Oh by the way there have been some promises and secrets I should’ve kept
Had friends that I should’ve never befriended
Wrote letters and should’ve never sent it
Please know that if I never told you I loved you I meant it
I apologize if it was you that I offended
As we go through life we do our best to make due
Live with the lie and or haunted by the truth
We are who we are, by far
We either soar in spite of
Or do what is necessary because of the constant reminder of the scars
As we go through life
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
Write Like You'll Never Write Again
Motionless! Stagnant! Complacent! Brokenness!
Fragments Of dreams
Tied up! Torn down!
Shaken! Shook up!
Trying hard to get out and stay out of this rut
So I’ll write to express
So my vulnerability will be evident
As if I’m in front of a crowd totally undressed
Revealing that I’m striving but I feel like I’m a mess
Weary and in need of rest
Songstress without a song
Drums without a drummer
Clogged to capacity
But there is no plumber
Get a snake and some extra strength Drano
I’m so tired of the same ol’
Backed up
Resisting the temptation to act up
I’ll write like I’ll never write again
A letter to my lover
Notes to my friend
Words can provide encouragement
If honest we all have tendencies to fall short
A good dream
A goal we abort
If we can’t see a clear path
I’ll write as if this time is my last
Express love even if not asked
Take off all masks
And regardless of the repercussions
Go all the way and not half step
Live a life of less regret
So when I write
I’ll write with a passion unheard of
When you read what was written
I’ll be someone you want to learn of
I’ll write until I’m raggedy
Until I can’t write any longer
Go thru it head on
Believing that it will make me stronger
Millions of words phrases and sentences
It will be so clear
No need to ask, “What is your mission Miss?”
I’ll write like I’ll never write again
A gift !A golden opportunity!
Even when I put my pen down writing continues to pursue me
So I’ll write like I’ll never write again
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
Fragments Of dreams
Tied up! Torn down!
Shaken! Shook up!
Trying hard to get out and stay out of this rut
So I’ll write to express
So my vulnerability will be evident
As if I’m in front of a crowd totally undressed
Revealing that I’m striving but I feel like I’m a mess
Weary and in need of rest
Songstress without a song
Drums without a drummer
Clogged to capacity
But there is no plumber
Get a snake and some extra strength Drano
I’m so tired of the same ol’
Backed up
Resisting the temptation to act up
I’ll write like I’ll never write again
A letter to my lover
Notes to my friend
Words can provide encouragement
If honest we all have tendencies to fall short
A good dream
A goal we abort
If we can’t see a clear path
I’ll write as if this time is my last
Express love even if not asked
Take off all masks
And regardless of the repercussions
Go all the way and not half step
Live a life of less regret
So when I write
I’ll write with a passion unheard of
When you read what was written
I’ll be someone you want to learn of
I’ll write until I’m raggedy
Until I can’t write any longer
Go thru it head on
Believing that it will make me stronger
Millions of words phrases and sentences
It will be so clear
No need to ask, “What is your mission Miss?”
I’ll write like I’ll never write again
A gift !A golden opportunity!
Even when I put my pen down writing continues to pursue me
So I’ll write like I’ll never write again
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
Hold My Hand In Public
Hold my hand in public to signify that we are together
Like the kiss on the forehead or that embrace you like to give me
To make me feel better
Hold my hand in public
To confirm what you say in private
I'm feeling you. You're feeling me.
Why hide it?
Hold my hand in public
It is such a subtle yet extreme form of affection
It gives clues into the seriousness of a relationship
The gesture assures. The gestures says so much
Your palm in my palm
Innocent, yet intimate is such a touch
Hold my hand in public
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
Like the kiss on the forehead or that embrace you like to give me
To make me feel better
Hold my hand in public
To confirm what you say in private
I'm feeling you. You're feeling me.
Why hide it?
Hold my hand in public
It is such a subtle yet extreme form of affection
It gives clues into the seriousness of a relationship
The gesture assures. The gestures says so much
Your palm in my palm
Innocent, yet intimate is such a touch
Hold my hand in public
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
The Familiar Look
The look I saw in his eyes was familiar to me.
It took me back…
I began to think about the boys I knew in elementary.
Those who had so much promise!
Those whom hope had such a hold!
Those who were convinced they would be “somebody”!
Oh where did that type of mind-set go?
He looked at me as if he knew he was wrong.
His own conscience had judged him and though torment was evident he chose to go on!
His look replied to me, I’m at the point where I need to be rescued,
I’m starving rapidly… I’m so close to doom.
But my momma sees me as just another man and not her child
There is no in between
As for my father and me we have no common ground.
I choose not to say all of this out loud… I imagine how this may sound!
I am a Black man, who is hopeless,
Yet somehow I’m coping!
Came so close to doing the unnecessary on the lines of straight up locin’
The potential that I possess my circumstance is choking!
Am I the only one that believes in me?
Society along with my family can’t seem to look past the stereotypes, that paint me as the poster child of negativity.
Yes, His look said all and more to me.
I’ am unable to fix the problem that he faces, but I do believe there is a remedy!
The Familiar Look!
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
It took me back…
I began to think about the boys I knew in elementary.
Those who had so much promise!
Those whom hope had such a hold!
Those who were convinced they would be “somebody”!
Oh where did that type of mind-set go?
He looked at me as if he knew he was wrong.
His own conscience had judged him and though torment was evident he chose to go on!
His look replied to me, I’m at the point where I need to be rescued,
I’m starving rapidly… I’m so close to doom.
But my momma sees me as just another man and not her child
There is no in between
As for my father and me we have no common ground.
I choose not to say all of this out loud… I imagine how this may sound!
I am a Black man, who is hopeless,
Yet somehow I’m coping!
Came so close to doing the unnecessary on the lines of straight up locin’
The potential that I possess my circumstance is choking!
Am I the only one that believes in me?
Society along with my family can’t seem to look past the stereotypes, that paint me as the poster child of negativity.
Yes, His look said all and more to me.
I’ am unable to fix the problem that he faces, but I do believe there is a remedy!
The Familiar Look!
©2010 Atiya Meadows-Thomas .All rights reserved no republication of this material, in any form or medium is permitted without expressed permission of the author.
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