to the thoughts inside my head....

Saturday, March 19, 2011

WUSHU beginnings ....

I've had years of karate, dance, basketball, track & field, softball, figure skating, tennis, yoga.  You name it, I've done it.  I've practiced these skills as hobbies, competitively, and/or professionally.  However, on January 6, 2011 I found a PASSION that's awakened the inner self that has been laying dormant for years.  It is the single discipline that fulfills me MIND, BODY, and SPIRIT: *WUSHU*!

It's my overwhelming appreciation and search for a connection to my Chinese ancestors.  It's the daily progression that I see affecting all other areas of my life in the most positive, zen way possible.  It's the pure rush I get when I complete a form in it's entirety.  It's the satisfaction of passing testing and receiving a new belt, that marks an accomplishment and a new set of movements to master.  It's the wind that passes by as my broadsword cuts through the air.  It's the pain in my hamstring and the tightness in my neck.  It's the HURT so GOOD that leaves me exhausted in a heap on the floor.  It is the door that opened me to meditating on a daily basis.  *WUSHU*!

Here is a video of my mentor, Coach Matthew.  Footage of me as soon as I do the artform justice enough to post.  Wushu is my WOOSAH.  I'm truly embracing this rainbow.. and this one's a double rainbow!  xoxo

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Soaring: Flight 9

As I fly away from the home we’ve created in no time at all
38,000 feet up and I know if I fall… you’ll catch me
I just asked God to pinch me, I don’t really want to wake up
Is this a dream or the desires of my heart’s reality
Ask and It is Given was always a saying to me, a quote someone wrote
Then it was a book I read
TODAY it is like my butter and bread
Not margarine or spread… the butter that tastes just like it did when
I was eating those fresh pilsbury biscuits in the morning that mama baked
And as essential as the bread that fed 40,000

See people write poems about love all the time
Misconstruing lust and then creating a rhyme
Talking about the arch of the back or describing love as an addiction like heroin or crack
This isn’t that type of flow
The surface stuff is just that little bit more
That works … like two cosmic puzzle pieces that found one another
In the black hole of the outside world like the eight ball in the corner pocket
The trajectory of destiny … nothing can stop it

My next boyfriend became my last
Amidst my sarcasm and sass
I never feel more beautiful than when I am with you (because you can’t help but tell me every other second, time enough to breathe me in and repeat it again)
Somehow you do what you do so well and I’ll never be through
A piece of paper, the courts, or the ceremony will just be the worldly validation
Nothing is contrived, if organic is what this is or some sort of emancipation
I embrace it with my whole spirit, body, mind … and yes my SOUL
Cut from the same cloth…. WE are cut from the same cloth and now woven back together
The cloth that has you finishing my sentences and me yours
Has us serving each other, both on all fours
Because there’s no ego involved no superego or ID
Psychology doesn’t have a place in this game of minds because I grew up in your eyes and the mind games stopped at HELLO.. yup that’s where you had me
I no longer play with toys and no longer worry about boys and no longer listen to the noise of blablahblah what’s your name, what’s your sign, listen I can spit you a quick rhyme….
You croon me to sleep in that grown and sexy type way
I get lost in the raspiness at the back of your throat
God I love that sound… Lenny ain’t got nothin’ on you!
If the hills are alive with the sound of music.. your music is the himylayan mountains that stretch far beyond anything our simple grey matter could ever fathom
Because God ordained this union and HE is the keeper of our “bigger picture”
In sickness and health for poorer or richer
Words are no longer words, they are purpose driven lyrics and melodies
Equally yolked finally a union of pure RECIPROCITY
You are more than my everything … you are my anything, any time any place
Whether miles away or face to face
You and me are WE, and WE are one
Ahhhhh to grow old together…. I can’t wait ;)
Just looked out the window again… I’m awake and still soaring.  


I want you to feel me on this…. Imagine or empathize

-Have you ever attempted to paddle a canoe without an oar?
-Have you ever attempted to paddle a canoe without an oar, upstream, against the wind?
-Have you ever attempted to paddle a canoe without an oar, upstream, against the wind, blindfolded, with weights on your feet?
-Have you ever attempted to paddle a canoe without an oar, upstream, against the gusting wind, blindfolded so you can’t see a thing, with heavy weights on your feet, and your right arm tied behind your back?

Such is life…. hope is on the horizon!

These lips have tasted the sweetness of self-fulfillment, accomplishment, and success; in an instant to turn around to see my life a drowning mess.

The detachment from that part of me that seeks the approval of SELF is a longing not to be understood by anybody else.

Drifting by as if to say ….. Row Row Row as fast as you can, you can’t catch me HAPPINESS is NOT the plan.

This too shall pass… the storm they say…
But, what happens when the clouds collect EVERY SINGLE DAY… the same tomorrow just like yesterday? 

The roaring rapids of failure and spite, The Art of War, the internal fight  obstructs your sight and remains your plight… if only someone … something would ignite the version of you that you fail to see… the one that has flesh and blood coursing through veins, rid of debris…… rid of distractions and sorrow.  Not the carcass of you that remains hollow .. the skeletal account of do wrongs and train reactions that brought you to this moment in time….. you’ve grown tired of the reasons and exhausted of the rhyme. 

‘Cuz what rhyme or reason is their to submit to the monotony, and scrutiny of the life you’ve NOT imagined for yourself… your envisage and no one else.  A holographic life that you can’t feel reaching out for something that’s real……


It’s amazing what shifted thoughts can do….
A change in perspective or an alternate view.  
The other day, in the midst of the storm I looked to the sky.   Mostly questioning WHY?  WHY?  WHY?
Why me, why now, what reason… HOW?  And as the drops cascaded down my face… I found solace in that place…. The place that I was where I was suppose to be; exactly where my thought were free… Free to embrace the understanding of perspective and slay the powerlessness of being misdirected.  Get your mind RIGHT and your thoughts CLEAR…. you are your own captain; fearless NO FEAR!!

NO FEAR of what CAME or what is to COME.  NO FEAR of UNDOING or BEING UNDONE.  NO FEAR of the future or of the past.  NO FEAR that these idyllic feelings won’t last. 

This time you know that your rhyme will consist…… of nothing but CREATIVITY and BLISS.  Commitment to self, the one whom you know.  Seeds to be planted, and equipt to sew…   sew and reap, reap and sew acres upon acres of fruitful growth!!!

No longer a slave to CIRCUMSTANCE or HAPPENSTANCE.  Opening up to new ROMANCE.  Welcoming the second CHANCES and serendipitous double GLANCES.

The vocabulary of the psyche needs to be re-edited with limited edition thoughts of positivity and visions of your destiny that is yet to be…. Meant to be…..

Hope is on the horizon, it is here today.  Let the suns rays kiss your face and embrace every trace of goodness within. In a perceived moment of weakness you’ll find the strength to bridge you heart and your mind… it is there you’ll find the answers that will, will the windfall of blessings until….. you are shatterproof .  Hopelessness and despair will never engulf your SELF.  As you stumble and fall on the way, just remember that perspective and hindsight are here today.  You are the one that will determine your LIGHT at the end of the tunnel and discover an eternal clarity and SIGHT.

BITCH (Bringing Intellectual Thoughts Crying Help)

A female with something to say
Not just go FETCH, SIT, or STAY
(I leave that to my Gangsta-Cup she’s Sassy, & y’all know her as B-Nasty)

A higher education or experiential knowledge
Whether firing axons from the hard knocks or college
Not a cardboard cutout cookie cutter
Blue-eyed bandit with hair like butter

This is coming from a multi faceted mixed girl
That’s been trapped too long in a Hollyweird 66sixed world
Confined to the constructs of the mighty stars in the ground
And the blingged-out, rhinestone-encrusted micro T-PAININ’ sounds
That regurgitate every where you go
Calling it Hip Hop, but not the Hop that was Hip in 1994

Loving’ the B-Girls that six step down the street
That can recite any of Dre’s the CHRONIC at the drop of a beat
Now it’s songs of Louboutin’s and Grills or “Icy”
Synthetic cakes and titties and …. HOW TO directions on how to snag an entertainer slash athlete and become a “Wifey”,
Not a “Wife” or a “Mate”
Just mind games and gimmicks and hot sex on a plate

Wish someone would croon, “You’re my LADY, You’re my LADY”           
And mean it….
I’m not trippin’ off chivalry, that’s been dead for a minute
Just a mini-search for some “been raised rights” that know how to pick a good fight
If we’re talking abortion, politics, or religion…
No raising of voices; just strategic word placement & precision
Precise reasoning and thought processes with Cognitive awareness of the subject matter and why it matters
Not rapping about “How my pocket’s gon’ get fatter”

Art imitates life, imitates art, imitates life, imitates art…
Sometimes it’s beautiful that we can’t tell them apart
But what part of art is the garbage disposal of the plummeting educational system And MTV/BET/Videogame Wisdom
Can we even COMPARE  … them to the
Greats like Picasso, Renoir or Thoreau & Voltaire
It’s no wonder our young ones are turning to the gutter for inspiration
And seeking cyber solutions to quench their frustration

The trickle effect is so deep we couldn’t scoop it out with a shovel if we tried
Special interest groups are rampant and our overpaid officials beaming with pride
So much pride they’re knee deep on the wrong side of the white line that they vowed to never cross,
Now obsessed and blinded with the new title as BOSS…
Narcissistic monsters drown out the cries of our children that can’t read books because of these money hungry high salaried crooks

Which brings us back to the subject at hand
At what point will our evolution as woman and man
Trump the excess static we impose upon ourselves
With chords and wires instead of literature on our shelves

A society that degrades our children, our grand-mama’s and pops, the young and the old; our land and our crops
When will it stop, and who will it stop with?
Charity money being collected and disappearing into an abyss, of range rovers and seemingly fortunate million dollar homes being bought
Be an exec at FEMA or the Red Cross and you’ll get a lot of residual stock
Who’s keeping us accountable to our own convictions?
With individual agendas and ulterior missions…

I’m just a multi-faceted female with something to say
Call me a BITCH as I pass your way, because I refuse to go FETCH, SIT, or STAY