Monday, December 31, 2007

And I Wonder ....

Inspired by my friend Lace who wrote to her father....I write to my mother

I know heaven is real for my mother watches over me daily. I know God is real for He has never let me down. I cannot prove His existence to a cynic nor can I give solid proof that doesn't completely coordinate to a cause-and-effect pattern the world runs on. I cannot touch Him but I can feel His presence. I cannot converse with him like I do with friends, but I know He always listens. I may not always be confident in His plan for me, but I can tell you this- in the end, I'm always taken care of. Through my friends, my family and invariably, through Him. He is a vengeful God. He is an ever loving God. He knows when to uplift my spirit and when I need to be guided because I have strayed. I never doubted Him ever since I accepted Him.

I know my mother is in a better place, and she is present in my daily life. She is now more than ever closer to me even though I can't lie in her lap and cry my woes away. I know she is more in tune with my feelings, with my soul and she understands. She doesn't scold, she doesn't judge- she just listens.

While my faith is stronger than ever, in my quest for more, I still sometimes wonder. I am regretful that I cannot do what she has done and continues to do for me to this day. I wish I could listen to what she has to say. I wonder if she would confide in me and I wonder if she would say that she regrets taking away something so precious. I wonder if she could, would she try one last time to reach out to me. This time I would not turn her away. I wonder how much her life would have changed had she had a daughter worthy of her. I wonder if she would've been happy if S.R. was her daughter - would she have made different choices? Would she have lived a happier life? I wonder sometimes, if she really CAN listen to me. I do hope and I pray that she can, for I have a lot to say. For I have a lot to make up for. For I have a lot of tears I caused myself and I have a lot of tears to take away from her because she has a lot of tears I have caused her.

I wonder, ma, if you can listen to me, if you can see me. I wonder ma, if you and amm-amma are together and if you wished we could bond more. I wonder if you are with all the women of our family wishing your descendants took more interest in our family history. For today, I only know the name of my Grandmother. For today, I only know about the itty bitty parts of stories you would start to tell us, before we got bored and cut you off. Or cringed because we would miss our TV sitcom that was going to start in the next 5 minutes. I wonder if you could, would you? I wonder if you wished your daughters would take the time to know you- to know our gramma and great gramma..and inevitably, know ourselves? Do you regret going away? Do you regret not wanting to stay? Do you regret not saying bye? Or would you do it all over again? Do you finally see my intentions? Do you finally see how much we need you?

I hope and pray you are happy. On your terms. I hope and pray you have everything you ever wished for. I pray heaven is just as great as everyone has said it to be. Because you deserve it.

While I sit here today, in my room (that you would most probably ask me to clean) wondering and questioning ...with a hint of doubt, something in me tells me you can listen. Something in me tells me you are here. Forever, with me. Living in me through Him. Something in me tells me this is what you would say to me:
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow: I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumns rain. When you awaken in morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.

(Before you send me messages telling me that I am a worthy daughter, that she is proud of me, be aware, that I know she is proud of certain aspects of me, but I also know what a worthy daughter is for I have recently seen her, and I, my loves, am no where close to it. Not for a long LONG time. Not toward the end not anywhere in the middle. I am aware of this and nothing anyone can say ...can convince me any different.. for only my mother and I know the nature of our relationship.)


Why is it that one finds peace in the most difficult of situations? Why does clarity hit you in the midst of chaos and hurt? Why does one ultimately find more about love, friendship, stability, thickness of relationships- all in the lowest of times? Why is it that sometimes listening to songs stimulates you and sometimes the same song crowds your mind so much you feel suffocated and handcuffed to thoughts?

Thursday, December 27, 2007

I miss...

  • being excited like the night before a picnic or a big day
  • the warmth of the sun kissing my skin
  • kayaking on a hot summer day... the wind, the silence of the lake, the glorious rays of the sun
  • meaningful conversations about nothing and about everything
  • being able to run outside the house in shorts and a tank top
  • our catch games we played on the playground from 7 am till 7 pm every summer
  • being called for in between catch games only to come home and be served a nice hot plate of food
  • the dust that covered every inch of my legs because of playing barefoot all summer long
  • Holi as a child
  • street dogs that knew me by my scent
  • being able to see role models all around me
  • being left alone
  • company
  • kittens that wrestled with my hand without leaving a scratch!
  • curds rice being mixed to a perfection by mom ... and her spicy chillies to go along with!
  • mountain biking by myself for hours on end...
  • all the views that kept me company for all those hours
  • being able to
  • warm samosas with tea every evening
  • watching He-man right after church =)
  • Sunday afternoon naps
  • 110 degree weather
  • being so ecstatic about my birthday!
  • brown book covers at the beginning of every year
  • the only person who knew me in and out-Nancy
  • being able to whisper happy secrets in the ear of a trusted one

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

hehe I figured I'd be evil

Rutgersrulz (10:58:20 PM): Oh snap!! u got back with your ex?
FllnAngl (10:58:29 PM): yah
Rutgersrulz (10:58:31 PM): oh boy
FllnAngl (10:58:35 PM): aren't u with the black guy?
FllnAngl (10:58:36 PM): :)
Rutgersrulz (10:58:38 PM): nope
Rutgersrulz (10:58:43 PM): we broke it off a LONG ass time ago
FllnAngl (10:58:47 PM): good, you moved on
Rutgersrulz (10:58:49 PM): hell yeah
FllnAngl (10:58:49 PM): who are you with
Rutgersrulz (10:58:50 PM): lol
Rutgersrulz (10:58:52 PM): no one
FllnAngl (10:59:25 PM): :(
Rutgersrulz (10:59:32 PM): why :-( ?
Rutgersrulz (10:59:35 PM): im happy as hell
Rutgersrulz (10:59:36 PM): lol
FllnAngl (10:59:38 PM): o wait
FllnAngl (10:59:41 PM): ur independent
FllnAngl (10:59:43 PM): and pro-woman

Isn't that right!

Your results:
You are Dark Phoenix

A prime example of emotional extremes: Passion and fury incarnate.

Who knew these silly surveys could speak the truth ;) She even looks like me... welll except for the stunning body lol. Dark hair with the red tint go baby go! Red and Black :-D Passion and Fury incarnate baby ;) We just go together. What can I say :-P


...that is so me!!!

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

I often have questions...seldom the answers

  • What is the line between 'letting people be themselves' and letting a person you care for know his or her behavior is damaging their image and their relationships?
  • In our world of constant acceptance and tolerance for everyones personality, when are these boundaries crossed?
  • Whose responsibility is it to make sure these boundaries are not crossed? And if it does get crossed- who are we to tell so-n-so that such behavior is not acceptable?

Hypothetical situation... a close friend has a problem. This friend gets obsessed with this problem and cannot seem to move on. Is it wrong to be firm/stern with this person or is it wrong to just hang back and let them figure it out, all while you watch his/her life crumble away eroding all stability as s/he knows it?

  • When does it become just plain wrong to intervene and when does it become just plain wrong to hang back? How many of us have gotten out of relationships because of a certain trait or personality of a person (physical, mental, emotional or personal alike) but just left it at "It's not you, it's me..." or some other lame excuse that was anything but the truth?
  • Is it our responsibility as fellow human beings to let a person know his or her faults or should we take the divine words "Judge not, that ye be not judged" (Or somethin' to that effect :-P)
  • Also, since it takes a village to raise a child, will it take a village to let a grown up know that his/her trait/behavior needs to be changed?

Monday, December 24, 2007

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Some of my work....

I feel almost unworthy to put my work right after I posted works from such great artists like Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes... but none the less... heres a few from yours truly ;) (they're all copyrighted for real so don't be trynna steal em! lol)

Intimate Stranger

You sit there
judging every one
but too scared to
look in your own God damned mirror
Imperfect in your own perfect way
every scar on your smooth skin
every stubborn zit that won’t go away
the dark on your knee and the kink in your hair

More imperfections
Love every

Rewrite history
Repaint your soul
Recreate creation
Replenish thirst

But no--
you are too scared
to look







(c) Shirley G. 2/9/07


I am raw
rough around the edges
basics and foundation strong
nothin’ more nothin’ less

I hide my emotions
just as well as mother nature hides her wrath
in the storm or love in her womb or motherhood at its best
you see them on my face
reactions, love, tenderness, rage.

I am raw
rough and smooth at the same time
sure and unsure and so damn sure
all I know is I am confident in
my confidence in myself.

I am raw
rough but not aching to be smooth
Not me. Not I.
I am rough, raw and brutal.

Are you?

(c) Shirley G. 2/9/07

Ballad of the Prostitute

She sold her soul for what he liked
When he like shy she shy
When he like loud she loud
When he want down right nasty
She mold herself to fit the tasty
He wanted rough an’ rugged- difficult
--to achieve—a tie you down to make you mine
She wore masks to hide behind and she was
You can’t get me you can’t have me
You’ll have to rape me to take me.

He fancied it twice today
he wants a woman that can play
fit your role your role your role everyday
switch it and change it in a snap of a finger
and happily she filled them shoes to satisfy his hunger

The ballad of a prostitute you say?
ain’t you the one that went out
And got them Gucci shades
Because you saw the whointhewhatnot video?
or go to sunday school because that’s what good girls do?

Ain’t you the one who been on a diet
since you known you – been tryin’ to squeeze
Into that size 2 dress with a Barbie breast?
How many times you burn your head
to get that silky straight hair?

curlin’ iron, chemical peels, be the best
that watch, that house, that car, that intensity (not intimacy)
Don’t look down upon the ballad of the prostitute
You sold your soul for pleasure and affection
Each of us does for a different addiction

(c) Shirley G.2.9.2007

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

They went home....Remembering.

They Went Home
They went home and told their wives,
that never once in all their lives,
had known a girl like me,
But... They went home.
They said my house was lickin clean,
no word I spoke was ever mean,
I had an air of mystery,
But...They went home.
My praises were on all men's lips
they like my smile, my wit, my hips,
they'd spend one night or two or three
-Maya Angelou
Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleeve
to peer into my eyes
While I within deny their threats
and answer them with lies.
Mushlike memories perform
a ritual on my lips
I lie in stolid hoplesness
and they lay my soul in strips.
-Maya Angelou
Exams are finally done and over with. It seemed to pass by in slow motion, but they're done. Finally. As soon as I got done with my last exam, I raced to the library, got myself a good book of poems and started reading. I missed reading to be inspired- so I read until my poor eyes begged me for mercy (at which point I got on here and started typing away, but shush!) :-P I read a few poems by Maya Angelou and I posted the 2 that really called out to me. Sadly, I couldn't spend more time dissecting more of her poems and didn't feel it would do them or me justice to slap some on here without true familiarity.
I had a friend read this poem. I figured it'd be interesting to see the reaction of "a guy's guy" to the works of this amazing being. He said it was a very beautiful poem, but the poet comes off too smug. Like there was nothing wrong with her she was perfect yet men didn't want to be with her. He said "For sure, there has to be something wrong with her- if there wasn't and she was, in fact, so perfect and amazing, why would she be manless?" Hmm. Interesting.
Meanwhile, I explained why the poem called out to me so much- a woman, no matter her caliber- will always have something "wrong" with her if she's single. It isn't about being smug or cocky or even full of one's self- Sometimes women just find the wrong guys (or the wrong guys somehow manage to talk a woman into being a complete buffoon). Once the relationship- whatever its nature, is exhausted, word vomit spews "Can we still be friends?..." You can take that and shove it up you know where.
Let me deviate, for a second here, and analyze the simple, yet complex statement often blurted out by males and females to lighten up a breakup. "Let's just be friends." What this statement really is saying is: While you generally are a good person, you're not good enough. You're not special enough. You just don't do it for me anymore. Or as Miranda Hobbes from Sex In the City once said "I'm just not that into you." Why is it so hard for someone to come right out and say it? Hey, Sorry I wasted your time, but- I've realized I'm just not that into you anymore. In which case, you don't need to be friends. What exactly is this sentence/ question supposed to do? Make a person feel better? Take the pressure off of the person? Make the person feel a little more dignified? Make them feel like they are just a little more in control? "Hey, you suck, but here's a consolation prize- you get to remain friends with me ;-) ..." Hmm thanks, I'll pass.
The second poem I love. It captures the past and the present and the future. I realized I can't really let past experiences bitter me up- lest they lay my soul in strips. =)
I'm really going to miss the semester. I don't know what to do with myself this month. I mean, I have a few chores to do, a tiny plan that needs to get put into action- which is all going to happen. But I'm going to miss the stresses of school. (Yes, I'm a nutjob :-P I know) I am going to miss my Chemistry class the most :) I made such amazing friends through Chem- I look forward to next semester already! Meanwhile, in the present :-P I know I'm going to frantically read all the poems I possibly can and try to write a little more as well. So keep on reading! :)
Needs no introduction... Just read.

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
-Maya Angelou
And I am quenched.