Mild Aroma, Woman

Friends Bible

My life is one constant motion for equality, survival, acceptance, candid curves.
I fight to exist, smile, laugh, to be heard. I am happy.
I fight to be able to put my pants on, comb my hair a certain way, a pierced ring on my nose and a lipstick of my choosing. I scream.
I fight so the person next door know that I am me. I am free.
I fight like a tiger.
I don’t need to have a rock star intelligence, sculpted body or wear high heel to be me.
I am beautiful, I am ugly. I am skinny, I am fat. I am short, I am tall. I am DD, I am A. I like blue, red, purple or green. I am every shade there is.
I am an emotional reck who sheds tears faster then the rain drop but a gracious gentle flower then the winding wave washing ashore.
I zigzag like a butterfly, I marvel life, I embody serenity but I don’t crack; I keep going.
I am a sexual tender, mild aroma in the bushes,
the charismatic being looking for to get drunk of laughter at the next friend’s corner bar.
I feel prettier then the rainbow because I like to breathe in the sun and irradiate the room.
I wake up at cracker dawn say my Amens and Thank You’s to the Man upstairs,
feed my herds sooner that I can drink my coffee and hit the next train to Georgia.
I am gorgeous. I love. I create. I educate. I dream. I give life.
I am a light. I beam. I venerate. I compete. I am ferocious.
I am authentic. I am complicated.
I am a leader and there isn’t a math equation I haven’t been able to solve.
I did’t go to school, I am scientist. I am not a doctor, I am a farmer. I am a teacher, I am a tattoo artist. I am an astronaut, I am pool dancer. I am not a mother, I am a sister, daughter, grandma, companion, lover, friend, wife, aunt, a soldier…
I am me. I am my own voice. I am a woman. I am girl. I am female. 

Happy International Women’s Day!

Monday Blues

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Often times, some things are not worth the fight. Let go and be still. Breathe. Deflect the energy elsewhere to something worthwhile, on a clear post it note with an eye of a bat. Don’t elect to know what you don’t know or, when the end is or will be. The answer is not so easily tangible but prudent, when the worth becomes worthless and trivial, the not so settled picture on the wall. Mind you, you cannot change what is not meant to be, it is not up to you but yours to sit on the passenger seat and let be chauffeured. 

My Muse

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I sleep, I see shoes
I wake up, I see shoes
I breathe, I see shoes
I smile, I see shoes
shoes are my muse
shoes are my box of Kleenex
where I spit away my sorrows and
take on my pain
shoes are my handbag
my joy, my love, my instrument
shoes are my visits to the orthopedic