Casually Wandering Through the Wonder

Have you ever had a day

Where you just wanted to feel safe?

No threats from the anxieties of the outside world

No unstable states of mind

No advertisements for sickness

Imagine real health in a really healthy world

A heart-conscious reality

Where the body can relax for a change

A place where betrayal (especially of the self) does not occur

Imagine a day where you’re not battling inwardly

The brainwaves are smooth

The laughter comes easily

There is no such thing as brainwashing or

Energy vampirism

There is no such thing as hatred and

No grudges to be held, they are too heavy

There is no such thing as mental slavery

And no such thing as rescue because

No one gets lost

No one gets abandoned, there is no abandonment

There are no wars to fight

And no poverty to rise up against

There is no racism or discrimination

No rape or child abuse and no blindness

There is no hell

Just peace and comfort

Sometimes I sit and wonder

Would a world like that be heaven?

What would it be like to experience?

No negative thoughts or behaviors

No punishment theories or escape rooms

No traps or snares. No dilemmas to solve

No illusions and no cries for help.

Is it the pain that both stops us and keeps us going?

How necessary is pain to growth?

“My body and mind have been as

Prepared for peace as they have been

For war.”

I read that in a veterans magazine article

And it made me think, man

If peace was right in front of us

Would we even notice?

Would we be too traumatized to

Even recognize it as a friend?

-A

(I do not own the rights to this image)

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Lotus Lips

It was at that very moment,

The one where we lost our religions

And found ourselves floating,

That I realized I could love you.

I could fill my heart up with your energy.

It took more than coaching,

It took more than believing in

The possibility of an unbelievable God.

It took more than just a moment

And in that moment,

You looked me in the eyes and mumbled,

“This is infinity.”

Instead of just agreeing like a “good girl” would

I inhaled your words into my universe.

I let them roam their way through me.

I let them float in space alongside us,

Even though I wanted to can and steep them deep

Inside makeshift Mason jars.

I wanted to keep them clean.

I wanted to study them until they too realized that-

It took more than just accepting their opinions.

I know tone- I know metaphorical metamorphosis,

But speech is futile in the presence of such

A foreign and undomesticated form of forever.

I can’t count the stars falling from your fingers

But I can count on you to point me towards them.

I can count on your breath inside my mind.

Holding me by the ear, you whisper

“What if prayer is simply the call for restitution?”

And it makes me smile to hear you

Speak about things like that,

Things that challenge the sturdiness of life.

I do not contend you even when

Mud seeps from the dirtiest of your words.

I do not pretend to be strong and silent

When your lips are shaped just like the lotus.

-A

(I do not own the rights to this photo)

The Watched Pot

Sitting on the living room floor,

Knife in hand,

She is cutting okra,

She wonders,

What kind of love

Turns a moment into a memory

Perhaps trust is the fairy dust that

Keeps the birdplanes flying

And the pelicans full

And the cropdusters are helping the fields

And not rattling the home walls early morning

They are spraying the land

with alternative medicine

Her hands are wrinkled

Her nails are cracked but she imagines

The kind of peace treaty

That makes it alright to put the slippers
Underneath the left side of the bed

The kind of agreement that

makes her continue on,

With a smile

Even when he calls her

by another womans name
Even when his knife

Is too dull to help

Or his pressure too high

And the raw crunch too loud

Or the pan too well hidden atop the cabinets

What chill makes the chin quiver

When the watched pot is too slow

To come to a boil

-A

(Photo Credit: Amber Wilson)

So…Whats Up With the Wig?

 

Locs, braids, scalp shaves, chops, waves, growth phase. Headwrap, cold scalp, fingerwave, razor blades. Chop, Chop, Grow, grow, learn, earn, flow, glow!

soul glow

My hair is the hardest thing to keep track of because when spirit moves me to change and evolve, I go and grow accordingly. I started my natural hair journey in 2010 with a BIG big chop. I was in crisis within my self-discovery process and was aching for change. Turns out that was the beginning of my beginning.

So what’s with the wig? Right now, I am in transition..for the third time, (but third time’s a charm right?) I went to one of my good friends, after cutting my 3 and a half year old locs myself, and cried in the barber chair (internally). I was ready for change and the universe demanded that I move without haste. Sometimes the appearance is the best way to get our attention eh? So I had it shaved it into this..

Screenshot_20180919-205130_Gallery.jpg

Products I am using right now:

  • Coconut Water
  • Aloe Vera Juice/Gel/Leaf
  • Rosewater
  • Castor Oil (For Thickening)
  • Black Soap (For Cleansing)

I keep it simple these days because it is SOOOOOO easy to become a product junkie and the way my pockets are set up, I have better things to invest in. Besides, the first two times around taught me a lot about myself and what truly works for me so we will see how it grows goes this time around. This should be exciting right? A fresh start, a fresh look and lots of love and optimism! I dig it. I am feeling happier, free-er and sassy. It’s all good. I cut my locs on September 1, 2018. Just for future references. I plan on experimenting a lot with color and shape although my intention is always health (not necessarily length). So If you want to take that journey with me. Stay tuned.

Peace and Love lovers!!!!!

-A

A Brief Intercession

Before we go any further

It must be said that much like pleasure,

pain is universal

which makes healing a universally

necessary act.

across the dimensions

The bravest of the beings step towards it,

holding the index fingers of the wary,

if they were too skeptical to extend their whole hands.

But knowing that an index finger is not mere and

it is more than enough, the brave parts, sometimes yank and pull,

other times they patiently coax and coach.

I love to hear:

“It is alright my love, 

you do not have to claim the title of brave 

in order to be it.

You can just be and see what happens next..”

we are truly never alone

This is an aha! moment that can be shared

across the galaxies

this is a welcome home party for the other in you

 

-A

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(I do not own the rights to this image)

Helpmate

Perhaps the helper follows you home

Back to your respective dimension

Perhaps something reroutes the mind

Without your consent

Without needing permission

When it is caught, it says,

“Relax, I am helping you learn to endure.

Calm down, I am teaching you to love.”

-A

(Photo not owned by me)

When the Feelings Connect

He said, you cannot be your feelings

Feelings are what you have

Not what you are

But sometimes the feelings turn me over

They move me around in my sleep

Shockng me to life

They bite me near the veins

And sink into my skin like venom

They course through me like blood

(The grown up and inherited kind)

Fought by the singular identity,

They are free and radically sifting

Through the once and twice removed container,

If I am not them

They are not entirely separate things

They are still a part of me,

They are down-the-line related,

Fractals of relativity

Somewhere on the inside

They are roaming like lost signals

Trying to be found

Trying to connect

-A

(Photo not owned by me)

In the Elevator

I can still see the heat in your eyes

Some triggers hold torches and not guns

Some appointments are divine and brief

I watched you take the elevator

From the first floor to the tenth

You did not panic as it stopped to

Pick up five more people five more times

But I bet your stomach turned a bit

Still, you kept going up

You did not panic

You kept on rising

– A

(Photo Credit: Outlandish! – On Flickr)

I Smell Lavender: An Ode to Aromatherapy

I smell lavender, which means

There are alternatives in the air

Calm alternatives which suggest to me

I should Try to hum instead of singing

The vibration will build the bridge that

Is meant to shield the waters

The lavender, it suggests that I
Cover the words with silk and not steel

Ignore the voices- it says,

Flip them off (with one finger)

Like a switch

Ask for water without lemon and without ice

Buy the blue pen instead of the yellow

Go right and not left

Or left and then right

Take notice of the ash on your knuckles

How long has it been there?

If it bothers you that much,

Rub it away with lotion and not vaseline

And not spit

Should you be tempted to

Choose to stay

Or to

Choose to go

Choose the sky

if you must do your flying here

Know that there are calming alternatives

Near the lavender fields

-A

(Photo not owned by me)

For the Black Mona Lisa in Therapy

The straight-lined smile speaks

Quite often to the black girl

Today is no different

Standing in the mirror

It suggests,

Choose the shirt and pants

And not the shorts

Choose the outfit that makes

Your kind of crazy the least obvious

Wear your hair down today

Spiked ponytails are not as subtle as waves

When they ask, try to stay stone-faced

Perfect your mona lisa smile

Do not flinch at the hard things

If your eyes begin to burn

Blink fast

Push the water back into the ocean

Get buckets and pails and scoop

Until there is a distinction between

the seas and the shore of you

Sure, it feels nice to be a beach some days

But whatever you do

Do not let them take you over

Do not leave there as a taken thing

-A

(Photo Credit: Ealy Mays Titulo via pinterest)

Rations

What if I told you
That deep in the belly of the thunderclouds
Smiles are wrapped in cushion and
Strapped by the back with parachutes?
Would you still hide in the hallways as the
Walls around you threatened to crumble?
Would you still keep the love hidden

Deep inside of you

And pull lines from your throat?

One by one
Rationing your laughter..

Like the soldiers do

Rations | aj | 2018

(Photo found on pinterest)