What Cancer Cannot Do

Author: Unknown

Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.

Posted by Brandelyn at 06:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I come from quiet moments hidden in moonbeams, where lazy days are swept clean by sunshine and my eyes fade into the color of sincere laughter, and sincere thoughts are over taken by the fragrances of honey, lavender and love.

I am the questions that linger by chance and implant wishes on moistened lips.

I come from widened hips and outstretched arms spread out below the shadows and the petals falling from orchid stems, too beautiful to be suspended in air, and that place of urgency to fly free is where you will find me.

I come from cocoa butter on soft necks. Hair curled freely, wise thoughts behind long eyelashes, the breath before a confession, the dizziness that appears when the feeling is too good to verbalize, forcing giggles to spill into laughter and every word that floats by becomes a piece of this poetry.

I live here. Where the answers remain between my left hand and my right and questions define the shape, and smiles begin to build themselves out of stone, instead of sand.

I come from dusty book pages, littered with the freedom that can only be found in the relationship between the pen and the pad, the words, the sounds of thinkers that came before the motion the wind makes and the birth place of definitions.

I am from the space between the lines, full, available, free. Where forehead kisses meet the taste of fresh ginger and music climbs into your soul and sweeps it clean.

I come from possibilities, quests, answers, journeys, respect. Fear, doubt, redemption, belief. Drive, desire, resistance, intentions, reflections, discovery, truth. Compliments, missteps, yearning, burning, wanting, more. The sound of language interpreted by the poet and knowing that yes… is real.

I come from the notes that spill from the lips of the musician that sings, grunts, plays, and releases a tribal scream from their guts. Where the currency is creation and completion and suddenly that is enough. Where growing, exploring, expanding is worth more than notoriety. Tight afro puffs, and the moment a poem whispers to the poet that the time has come.

I come from the place where the fullness of satisfaction begins to bloom.

This is where you will find… me.

Posted by Brandelyn at 01:02 PM | Permalink

"When will we get// the time to be// just friends..." Amy Winehouse

Fresh pages

New stages

Clear focus

Me

Now you

The weight of your words

Light enough to allow me to shake myself free

I had to find the part of me that had gone missing

Learn to smooth out the rough edges

And blanket myself in peace

Take off the glasses that only allowed me to see you

As my savior

my hero

the one who would take away

The hurt that I allowed to build up

On my own 

Now my eyes are clear to see

The power in me

My ever present ability

To slow dance back to me

Please pardon me

While I remove the titles of more and than

And leave us as simply friends

Allow me to make the introduction

Of me to you

and allow you to see

My newly discovered capacity

to smooth out the rough edges

blanket myself in peace

and slow dance my way

Back to me

Continue reading "Just Friends" »

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Envisioning the precision of my pen

Posted by Brandelyn at 08:20 PM | Permalink

Continue reading "Untitled #45" »

Posted by Brandelyn at 08:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

“.... came to me in my dream sleep, when I see must pungently and richly. I'd moved from the Lower West Side of Manhattan to make my home in Houston, yet I wandered Texas as a blind woman. I saw , but could not make a connection. I touched, but felt unmoved. I dug soil, looking for roots, finding none.” -Ntozake Shange

I had become a puppet, raising my arms and waving my hands to the motion of the strings being pulled but a force that was unknown to me... until she came... using her words to guide me toward my light. Spiritual hands gently nudging the loosening of my wrists as words flow freely, purposefully onto this page. Creating foundations... discontinuing the search for roots in someone else's garden. finding roots in my own. planting flowers that I like and sipping peppermint tea in the twilight waiting for them to bloom. The questions remain clear and I feel wise enough to answer them. Finally embracing my womanhood/curves/sexuality/all of me. Lying down patiently to wait... for the presence of my words. finally listening to the voice inside that has been humming low and clear, waiting for the moment to sing. Each note pushing itself further into me, creating roots that are purely my own. I see them and I smile...

This sense of calm has become familiar...Defining peace for myself... embracing peace within myself... acknowledging the moments of fullness for what they are...mine. Standing on the inside of a moment I have only witnessed from out, this calm is delicious and welcome and mine...

Suddenly I can breathe. I want to live so choose to. The emotions flowing freely, wildly inside and outside of me are welcomed and truthful and raw, pouring themselves lovingly down onto the space of this page are bringing back the hope I used to feel within myself. Comfortable in my thoughts. In my process. Celebrating the consistencies of the day. Looking forward to the horizon coming in to view. “...came to me in my dream sleep, where I see most pungently and richly...” My dreams are beginning to blur into my truth.

I am a student. Constantly studying the effects of the words on the soul. The power questions have on the mind. The wonder the sound of a voice brings to the ear, I want to know it all. I am moved by thoughts. Mental images painted with words. Documented somewhere between the pen and page where the thoughts of a stranger somehow speaks to your soul. Tell me my secrets. Create a place for me to hide. Place my hidden thoughts onto the page and allow me to fly free there.

Poetry: I understand the confused organization of words meant to define the undefinable and describe the indescribable. The language taunts my guts and enables me to see/discover/uncover/believe that much more of myself.

“...oh thunder and lightning is not the devil beating his wife, its the sky bleeding flowers...”

My lips have been bleeding flowers grown in my thoughts. Painfully wonderful moments that create sensations I want only to last forever. The interest and questions of the moment create pathways for the truth. The ability to remain the same has been stretched over me and wrapped around slowly, making me feel secure and warm. The thought patterns are new and bold and begging to be explored.

Being present in the moment: shadows dance on the page as I write these words, not trying to compete, but just trying to be noticed....kisses being blown toward my face, I catch each one and store them in a jar. Watching them dance and flutter like fireflies... I see them and I smile...

Being present of the moment: I see you and I smile.

Posted by Brandelyn at 05:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

For once in my life, I don't have anything to say. I am learning that a lot of my work is derived from angst, sadness, confusion, love. All of the swirls of emotion that dance through my head, I have to capture them between the pen and the page. But today, today my soul is quiet, calm, peaceful, at rest. Today I have peace. Words from others just like me have been floating toward me and wrapping themselves around me like a kiss. Sweet. Soft. Necessary. Filling in the empty spaces I did not realize was missing. Wind songs. Crucial elements of music and light and the moments when clarity presents the only sound. This feels amazing. Sweet. Soft. Necessary.

I don't mind being quiet, I rather like it here. Smooth lines unleash peals of laughter and kindness and smiles. My moment to breathe and believe in the goodness of the moment.

I am quiet today. Feeling the rhythms of hips swaying to the beats in my head. Dance break. Feel the wind on my face. Love. Yes. This moment is what I need. The quiet and the colors and the light and the leaves and wind and the sun and the sounds of expectation of goodness to come. The vision basking in the sunlight. The quiet of my soul feels right and I will sit here in this moment and feel every sound that surrounds me, embracing every good thing that is preparing itself to come my way. I am ready for you. Ready and quietly waiting for you to come my way.

Posted by Brandelyn at 06:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

 Excerpt from the Upcoming Project: "dreams are not concerned". Available June 2011.

The Way I am

Standing in the kitchen

One sock on

The other on the living room floor

Eating cold pasta

Blended together with whatever I could find

In a coffee mug

That is chipped on one side

I like the color

So I refuse to ever let it go

Even when you laugh and joke

At the feathers in my hair

I remember the smell of your scent

As you stood too close

To pull each and every one of them from my curls

You looked down at me and I could feel your need

To simply be close to me

You were always there to catch me

Even if it was with a laugh

I love you

The way your body seems so in tune with mine

And how your precision fits in with the

Stutter

Stumble

Step of my rhythms

And how you loved every awkward piece of who I am

I’m standing here thinking of you

And how much you love

The way I am

Photography by: Nican Robinson 

(my amazing and talented cousin!)

Posted by Brandelyn at 07:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I want to wrap myself up in the colors of the sky
Allow soft guitar strings to hover above
While traces of blue wash me clean
Leaving me lazy and naked and free
There is no wind here
Just magenta
And purple
Orange
And blue
Flavors and sensations that gently sketch a smile where my worry used to be
Wisps of gray linger in the background
Reminding me of where I've been
In front of me is a crystal blue
Sparkling brightly like all of the things to come
This is right
The softness of these colors
Wrapped gently around the freeness of my skin

 photo Credit: http://www.sarpysam.com/plugin/tag/sunrise

Posted by Brandelyn at 08:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Most Days

Most days I prefer to lay low. Quiet. Cat-like. Pausing in the shade with my toes in the sunshine concentrating on the ebb and flow of my breath; in and out, in and out, in and out. Expanding. Growing. Blowing. Flowing with the wind. Taking in each moment… slowly….

Most days I like to sit somewhere and read. Mostly books about people I wish someday to be. Real people, fictitious characters who move me with their tales of triumph and defeat. Characters and real people who are smarter than me and who make bad decisions. Real people and characters who teach me how to make better decisions and what happens to a dream or a life when you don’t. In these quiet moments I learn from them. Stretch myself into their situation and pretend, grow, then bend my way out of reality into a space where I am big enough to fly....

Most days I like to be quiet. Not silent, but quiet. I don't want to listen to music, or be on the phone. I don't want to turn on the television or stare at the computers screen. I don't want to listen to the conversations of other people, i just want to breathe. On days like this, I want to be in control of my environment, sit on my living room floor and just be in a place where I can think about the before and then the after, heal from the wounds and mend the scars of the day. Start fresh. Reset. Be. Here, in this space, I can touch my imagination and understand what it means and how wonderful it is to be me....

Most days I need to be touched. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes me feel warm. Safe. Giving. The opposite of the touches that float toward me daily. Touches that are designed to remove, snatch, take. I need more. A touch that is rare, sweet, precious like a black pearl, like the days when I would lay my head in my grandmother's lap and she would read to me while rubbing my head. Yes, this is what I need. A head rub, a hand held, butterfly fingers on the small of my back, protective, respectful, loving, necessary. A lifeline, a moment in time that connects my spirit to someone else and brings me down from the clouds where I have been floating...hopelessly...

Posted by Brandelyn at 08:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I need you to wrap me up, hold me close,and breathe into my ear until I feel safe enough  to speak these words hiding behind these sleepy eyes of mine
If i had one wish, it would be to stand here, close to you, like this, for every single moment we could spare
Dazzled by the conversation that floats between your hands and mine
and the nameless something special that keeps us rooted there
I would wish to feel warm with you
solid here, creating the notions that we could be together
Like this
for as long as words are able to melt onto a page
I need you to help me settle in to the space between my desires and dreams
and create monuments of hope that our laughter will be enough to eliminate the doubt
and we will be here
just us
in our world
warm
sleepy
content
protected from the rainy day swirling outside out window
Can you
Wrap your arms around me and just for a moment
Take it all away

Posted by Brandelyn at 11:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

            Tonight I am falling asleep by candlelight with nothing but the soundtrack of the world outside my window blowing through the billowing of my curtains as the scent of vanilla and strawberry candles flicker against the bright colored paintings on my wall. It is now officially Fall. Even though I adore Summer, this is slowly but surely becoming my favorite time of year. The sky is bright; the breeze is crisp and detailed, sweaters, boots, hot chocolate and laughter. Yes, I am ready for this new season. Literally and figuratively.

            I’ve been reading a lot lately, and have been very quiet. Not saying much, just observing. I realize that the quieter I am, the more I write and the hungrier I get for art. I have decided that this weekend is going to be another one of those what I like to call ‘writers retreat’ weekends, where the phone is off, the location is undisclosed and I am finally free to spend my time exactly as I please. I can sleep, I can read, I can lie around in my underwear, notebook always resting directly to the right of my hand because you never know when a line, a word, a picture, a fluttering of a leave will inspire a story or a poem or a song, so I must stay read. I love it.

Even though I would love to stay up all night tonight, I feel the weight of my work week bearing down on me, begging me to just go to bed and start fresh in the morning. Even this coffee I am pretending to drink isn’t doing the trick. My body wants to lie down, so I must oblige. But I am feeling good, inspired, encouraged, ready to face what’s next. I am looking forward to the still quietness of the morning. Writing before the world starts stirring, that is exactly how I want to start my day.

            So this weekend I am taking Virginia Wolf’s advice and creating a room of my own. I am going to spend all of my time with Alice, Zora, Langston, Paulo, and James. I need my literary mentors to speak to me this weekend and guide me as I start this new project. The voices of my characters have gotten quiet so I am going to take advantage of this time and simply write for the sheer joy of the sensation of a moving pen. Yes. Sleep is tapping lightly on my shoulder, so I will lie down underneath the comfort of these candles and this breeze and tomorrow before the world outside my window stretches and prepares for the day, I am going to sit down with my pen and my pad and write out my dreams…

            And the following story is something I found on Paulo Coelho’s blog and this is exactly the type of thinking that I plan to immerse myself in…

story sent by Anupam Karn

A master asked his disciples:
‘Why do we shout in anger? Why do people shout at each other when they are upset?’

the disciples thought for a while, and one of them said
‘Because we lose our calm, we shout for that.’
‘But, why to shout when the other person is just next to you? ‘Isn’t it possible to speak to him or her with a soft voice? Why do you shout at a person when you’re angry?’
The disciples gave him some other answers but none satisfied the master.

Finally he explained:
‘When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other through that great distance.’

Then the master asked:
‘What happens when two people fall in love? They don’t shout at each other but talk softly, why? Because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is very small…’
And he finally said:
‘When they love each other even more, what happens?
‘They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love.
‘Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other and that’s all. That is how close two people are when they love each other.’

Long live art….

Peace Y’all,

B

Posted by Brandelyn at 09:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Are you real? I mean, you seem real. I can touch you, smell you, hear your words. That seems real, but are you? I can feel the butterflies when my eyes capture you and hold you in the canvas of my memory. I can hear your voice in my dreams, your laughter creates a space for me to breathe and just be…free…Free like, t-shirt and panties in the middle of a Saturday afternoon with the windows open in a clean house free. A singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down on the freeway type free. I live inside of the look you give me when I stumble, trip and fall because it reminds me that I’m not perfect and with you I don’t have to be. You don’t try to fix my flaws, try to make me feel better, you don’t laugh, or try to make them bigger than they are, you just accept them, all of them, all of me and bring calmness my way.  With you, or with the idea of you, there are no rainbows or fairies flitting by, leaving dust tracks of powdered fantasies on our eyelashes, no movie magic soundtracks playing in the background as we stroll down the street hand in hand, no. The idea of you brings me sanity, reality, a unique combination of our personalities, yes, I hear you. Folding yourself into the comforts of our jokes, the laughter, the attempts to keep from flirting and the delicious sensation of failing and the smiles, all of the smiles, the bright subtly, genuine, true, deep down smiles that allow me to take notice and see you with eyes that are not yet wise enough to decipher the truth, so I will ask you. Please take these questions into your hands and pick out the truth. Hand them back to me, freer, lighter, slimmer and full. Put my mind at ease and allow me to stop searching for clues. I see you, I do, and once the truth has been revealed I pray that my eyes will become wise and be able to look into the reflection and see deep down into the depths of you and know for certain that you are real.

Photo Credit: http://www.sarajofrieden.com/artworks/portfolio-3/two-people

Posted by Brandelyn at 09:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I prayed toward the moon
Hoping that the distance would be far enough away
to take this away
and for once leave a hole
instead of trying to find ways to fill this empty space

I'm simply searching for my escape

If I had one wish today
It would be to turn off these emotions that are so vital to my being

The heart and soul of my creativity

Today I want to simply be
Turn off this sensation that keeps my eyes aware of the constant presence of selfish tears
I prayed to leave here
Walk past this portion of my destiny, turn my head and ignore it
like I did that homeless man on the street
To smell chlorine, or maybe even bleach
Any kind of substance that will wipe my essence clean
I'm tired of looking and feeling and being mean
But not as much as I have enjoyed it lately
I wonder when I will stop hearing my Nana's voice every time I get the urge to cuss
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
The world I'm in right now is simply too much
I prayed for trust
Prayed for that moment in time when that thing that I've been saving myself for
Working so hard toward
Claiming to have faith for
Searching far and wide through the distance for
Begins to shine
And I'll relax and know that all of this
Wasn't in vain
I want to pray
Release these words to the heavens to the only one who can actually fix things
Kiss the wounds and make it better
The one who was clever enough to think I was strong enough to handle this mess
But I don't think I am
Sometimes I do honestly and sincerely wish all of this would just come to an end
So I could finally look God in the face and ask why
What was the point
And why was everything so hard
Because down here
We are told to keep quiet
Not to get mad
Just be silent, keep smiling, Take it and pray
That's all I was taught to do anyway
But the moon was too far to catch the trails of these fears
And God didn't pick up the phone
So who can I talk to
That will grant me my wishes
And allow me to once again
Appreciate the breeze and look up to send kisses
And not fades wishes
to the moon

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

Posted by Brandelyn at 06:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

6/22/10

I smell sunshine when I think about you
Taste the sweetness of raindrops when you cross my mind
Every day in your thoughts is a summer evening
And time melts into the distance
leaving nothing but all of you
In my space
You are welcome here
I’ve already opened the door
swept off the porch
poured the iced tea
pulled out the good chair
giving you a place to sit and sip on my thoughts
There is no need to knock
Silently ask for permission to enter this space
Come in
Sit down
Allow the vibes to twist us out of our comfort zones
And just be free
I like you
I mean I like having you take over my thinking place
You are welcome to stretch out in between the lines of my poetry
Examine them
Dissect them
Recreate them if you wish
They are technically yours
Because without you
These strings of words would not exist
I like the way you create your image of me
and how it matches my image of me
And the sound of your words etching out that vision of me
Leaves me flustered
Causing me to drop things
Stutter, stumble
Trip over my desire for perfection
Bumble over my words
Quite honestly
All the things I do on a normal day
But with you, these awkward moments are desirable
Maybe because my clumsiness is because of you
And because every time I fumble, stutter, or trip
I think of you
And the power you have to knock me off my axis
Because you see me, as I am
Appreciating
Liking
Desiring
Everything about me
Flaws and all
You stump me
Make words freeze on my tongue
Get caught up in my lips
Create brand new moments
That I can see with you
But can’t say to you
Forcing me to lean down hard on my poetry
And allow it to whisper the words I’m too shy to say
To you
So as your eyes soak in my blushing cheeks
My down turned eyes
Peeking out from underneath the curls of my lashes
I say to you
You are welcome
Please, come, sit down
Sip this glass of of my words
Free yourself of your insecurities
Until you become cool
Refreshed
Ready
You are safe here
Captured only by my words
That want only to melt free and embrace you
You are welcome
Please, Come in
And have a seat

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine 

Posted by Brandelyn at 08:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I am learning
I am learning how to make myself feel remarkable
To hug my own curvy sides
Soak in my own swirling scents
And smile
To laugh at my own jokes
And breathe in my own poems
To look at my own reflection
And say
With my own lips
The words
Brandelyn, you are beautiful
I'm learning to define my own freedom
And create my own song
To bottle up my own tears
And hum, dance, jig, create, breathe
to the rhythm of my own drum
I am learning to write the pages of my very own dictionary
Fly: (adj) Me
Creative: (adj) Me
Intelligent: (adj) Me
Capable: (adj) Me
Funny: (adj) Me
Vibrant: (adj) Me
Beautiful: (adj) Me
Remarkable: (adj) Brandelyn Nicole Castine
I am learning to use my own words as bricks
That will create a staircase just for me
That will allow me to climb above the nasty
The doubtful
The hurtful
The shiftless
The intimidated
The unavailable and weak
Until I am high enough to reach the clouds
Find the fluffiest one with the best view
Settle myself in
Lean back
And enjoy the company
Of Me
© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

Photo Credit: www.transportcafe.co.uk/wallpaper_desktop_computer_bg/4000ft_over_england.jpg

Posted by Brandelyn at 04:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I used to think I needed the attention

To see smiles and eyes beaming with pride

To hear the loud thunder of applause

To feel the heat of the lights beaming down on my face

And to hear the words

Great job

Well done

Thank you for all that you do

I need you

I used to breathe for it

Jump up and dance and scream for it

Flail my arms

Kick my feet

Comb my hair out wide enough to snatch attention

Wear my heels high enough for them to see my swag

Dip myself in honey oil and expensive jewels

Just so I could sparkle and shine

And get caught in the light of their eyes for it

But the curtain has closed

And the lights have dimmed

The sounds of glory have faded and it’s just me

Suddenly aware of exactly what that means

I used to crave the attention

Thought that I needed the noise

Thought that I needed the acknowledgement

The fans

The waves

The smiles

The hugs

Thought I couldn’t make it out here alone

Thought I needed the support of man to help me move on

Thought I was right

Didn’t realize how much I was wrong

When I finally allowed the quiet

To settle in and rest

I finally discovered

That the only thing I ever truly needed

Was plain and simply

God

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

 Photo Credit: http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:CdVNlWZ19aPWlM:http://www.upliftantidote.co.uk/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/hug.JPG

Posted by Brandelyn at 01:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Slipping
Falling
Laughing
Fly
Happy
Content
Ready
Focused
Reading
Breathing
Watching
Observing
Discovering
Me
Talented
Humble
Blending
Writer
Poet
Author
Dynamic


Artist

Posted by Brandelyn at 05:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Brandelyn at 05:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I fall asleep each night to the sound of your voice and the unspoken words that remind that I am not alone in my desire to be close and warm from the sensation of understanding I’m able to lay my head down to rest next to a small well worn stack of books heaped one on top of the other breathing life into my quiet space eliminating the emptiness of the distance between us making me feel safe at night. I know that you would smile and say that that sounds silly but somehow you would understand my desperation for security and my desire to run from that feeling because it infiltrates my dreams at night and the moments we share in my minds eye keep me tossing and turning with a smile so i keep them there, my small stack of books because before i drift to sleep they quietly remind me that it is okay to care, to dream of your face and wake up smiling from the promises we shared and yes, my small stack of books ease me into my land of dreams and whisper that this feeling is nothing new, nothing rare, its as simple as me missing you,  each aspect of you, the presence of the thoughts and passion and laughter and tears and hopes and motivations of the fictitious characters whose creators have taught them, and me subsequently, how to cope with love come and gone that is as real as yours and mine will keep the space warm until the weight of you and your thoughts and passion and laughter and tears and hopes and motivations and desperation to be near me fill the space and dull my senses causing me to fall deep into the sweetest sleep resting freely in the nearness of you

Posted by Brandelyn at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Haiku #20
Breathe life into me
Everyday with your words
Wrap me up in you

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haiku#21
Overacting
Is simply part of my charm
It makes me love hard

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haiku #22

Am i safe with you?
Guess not if i have to ask
Time for something new

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haiku #23

Can i close my eyes
Lean my head back and breathe out
Safe in your presence?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haiku #24

Like my appendix
You're buried inside of me
For no real reason

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deuces…

I enjoy saying goodbye to you
Watching you walk away is my favorite past time
Releasing my breath into the fullness of the space where you were standing feels great
Because the space where you were
Is empty
And that is the way i like it
Filled to the brim
With the sweet
Wonderful
Stillness

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nighttime Thoughts

I fell asleep last night
To the sound of your voice
Telling me
Im special
And rare
And that the sound of my laughter
Brings you joy
And reminds you
Of all that's right in the world
And makes your world bright
A smile crossed my lips
The way your kisses will
Someday
When we are finally
Resting quietly
In the same space
With the sound of your breath
Filling up my space
Rocking me to sleep
In the safety
Of these night time thoughts

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summertime

Your lips grazed the bareness of my shoulder
Replacing the moisture the sun sucked away
I turned my head slightly
Pausing from the poem i was writing
About you
To show you the corner of my smile
Purposely stroking your ego
To let you know i am pleased
To have you near me

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

Posted by Brandelyn at 09:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Emotional Asthma
2/2/10

Pain in my chest
Tight grip
Skin burning with anxiety
What happened?
I was breathing
Sucked in all the air I could hold and smiled
I remembered how to do it
And my world for a moment felt free
And just as suddenly
My breathe escaped me
Comically mimicking my inability
To just be
The burning sensation
Caused by tears that refuse to fall
Makes my eyes itch
And beg
No, plead for sleep

For Relief

For a moment that rests in my reach
An escape
From this feeling

That I just can’t seem to find
The right/correct/eloquent/articulate

String of words
To describe

The feelings trapped inside

The bare blank dry opening of my mouth
I need to get out of here
Out of my skin
Out of my head
Out of these thoughts
That are keeping me bound
Wound up on a tight string
Unable to wail or scream
Release these quiet emotions
That hurt every inch of my being
Where did I go?
Checking my electronic connections
Like a manic
Asthmatic
Grasping for the inhaler
That will help me breathe
Hoping for some a lifeline
A quick snatch of time
A look, a glance, any sure fire sign
That someone understands
This pain
To physical to be emotional
And too emotional to be ignored
These words carry all of my hope for relief
Please, please, please
Help me
Find my peace

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

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I hope you cry

1/30/10

I wish you would cry

Break

Release

Breathe

And find your smile

I have to be honest and say

I don’t recognize you anymore

What was once bright

Light

Sunny

Inspiring

Soft

Sweet

kind

Is melting slowly

Into something

Unrecognizable

And hard

I can’t say Black

Cause Black is Beautiful

You are beautiful

That deep down

Constant swirling core of you

Is beautiful

I know one day

You will dig through the muck

Face the strong tower of your pain

And knock it over

Instead of blinding yourself

To the hurt that is  

Making you heavy

While you strive to be weightless

Pouring yourself out

Into any receptacle with an open hole

I hurt for you

Crying tears you cannot cry

Wanting to be held

Because I know you need it too

You are special

And worth so much more

Than you are allowing yourself to see

I pray your eyes will open

And I have faith that one day they will

And they will release the teardrops

That make your face so heavy today

I miss your smile

And I pray one day

You will cry

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

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I need you to wrap me up, hold me close, breathe into my ear until i feel safe enough to speak the words hiding here behind these sleepy eyes of mine...

If i could make one wish
I would close my eyes
Blow out the candle
And hide behind the smoke with you
Whispering silent conversations
About Coltrain because i know what he means to you
And Hurston because you know what she does to me
And Coehlo because his words will allow us to rediscover ourselves together
And I would be close to you, like this
For every moment we can spare
Creating a space where intellect meets humor
And you can sit on your side of the couch
And i can sit on mine
Soft instruments strumming in the background
Blocking out anything that could distract us from our world
And You will be wrapped up in your pages of our history
I will be consumed with the story of our love
And our feet will meet in the middle
Bringing forth reality that our paths were meant to cross
We would lay there
Nestled on our opposite sides of the couch
dazzled by the words that float between your hands and mine
And as your voice would speak
Carefully revealing the contents of your mind
Etching out my smile
Making me want to lie around and lazily soak my feet in the pool of your thoughts because they take me there
And I will begin to feel warm with you
Believing the notion
That we could be together
Friendship intertwined
Eyes locked
Minds combined
Creating more for us to explore
together
Until the smoke clears
And our world becomes visible
To the dreamers and thinkers who can taste the sweetness of this vibe between me and you
It is clear
Warm to the touch
Sweet to the touch
Soft going down
Leaving them hungry for more
Yes
If i had one wish
I would not have to watch the flame dance and think

I would close my eyes
Blow out this candle
And hide behind the smoke with you.

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

Photo Credit:  www.flickr.com/photos/mattgayton/3966171135/

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Hopes

Levels evened out

Images recreated with time

Scratching for the lifelines

Blood ties

Hugs

Love

Tears cried

Emotional suicide

My hopes buried behind the lines

That have already come

I bite my tongue

In hopes of understanding

The trail that leads to nowhere

Or somewhere

Or anywhere

That creates a smile

Strong and bright enough

To suck in the shame

With hopes of restoration

Hopes of sanity

Hopes of peace

Hopes of lovely

Hopes of laughing

Smiling

Dancing

Singing

Waving my arms

And twirling in the rain

Until the smoke clears

And the questions end

With a period

That flushes out

The quiet moments

That try to blend into eternity

Settling down silently

Leaving the mist behind me

Clearing out the avenue

For the hummingbird to sing

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

 My Brother's response to Hopes:

 hopeful Ly (poem from my phone)
hope lighter than an ant can shift realities and create an outer space, where you can breathe. you hope to discover something beyond the rock on high that you build on, but whats higher than he? impatient... hopeful for a brighter future, a deeper love that compliments the love you recieve from god. for a swifter intellect to make wiser decisions and not fuck hope in the heart with foolish maybes. foolish "babes", foolish "i love you's" and foolish are you! foolish you will remain cause you never really know anything. so perhaps foolish are you for not hoping for things from a substance called faith. hope...what?? 

© 2010 Noah David James

Photo Credit: http://sharecare.wordpress.com/2006/12/

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Untitled: Disappointment/Relief

8/12/09

These scraps of time

That you continue

To present in a small

Torn up, worn down

Paper bag full of

Holes is no longer

Strong enough to carry

My dreams

So now the wind must blow

Me in this direction

You in that

And suddenly the wind

Is enough

To keep me warm

© 2010 Brandelyn N. Castine

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There is one pink cloud in the sky. It is floating by itself where everything else is dark and ominous and gray. I like that cloud, it is special to me. I appreciate its tenacity, like somehow someway it knew that the only way it could survive would be to find a way to find sunshine for itself. It denied the darkness that surrounded it and chose to shine, simply because it could. Choosing to snatch all of the goodness and brightness and swallow it for itself so it could so it could feel beautiful and allow that to speak naturally. All of the inner glow it swallowed peeks through and it feels pretty, valuable, worth it, so it shines, bright, pink and full. Free. Beautiful despite the darkness that surrounds it and threatens to swallow it whole, it shines in spite of. I need to live just like that cloud. Reflecting all of the light and beauty that has been planted in me, rising above the darkness that hovers on every side and threatens to swallow me whole, I’m above. Breathing through the darkness and reaching my hand out blindly until I can find the light. Instead of listening to the opinions of the darkness that surrounds me, I need to stretch myself out and search for some way to understand my power and my beauty and my strength and my value. Or maybe, just maybe, I already do.

Photo Credit: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1079297/Pictured-The-mystery-pink-light-appeared-London.html

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Floating through the pastures of my adulthood tasting the slightly bitter tears that stream down the hidden side of my cheeks recognizing that I lost my voice and my arms forgot how to swing and my feet walk slow carefully steadily painting out clearly how much  I miss the me that I lost somewhere in the moments of meeting needs and fulfilling his fantasies I cant believe I forgot  what my screams sound like while laughing with every ounce of my light being considerate of the levels and opinions of every other grown up filling up my vicinity my light has become dim settled comfortable in the fact that my days have blended into reality

Where are the whispers of my dreams the smile I used to carry in my pocket to remind me that color still exists and I miss it flipping through the hardness of reality I want to be alone until I can be quiet enough to recall exactly what was in my space that last time life was exceptionally pure and my steps let do somewhere bright and my emotions felt full long and right and I believed in the possibility of the day and each moment shined past the extension of my sway and I wonder how to find that moment again

Sometimes melancholy feels good against my skin causing me to question every question I’ve ever asked these tears that formed a solid front behind these eyes of mine and today not even my pen can bring down the rain I need

I need to believe in something or someone again while I ease myself back into the space where life makes sense where music gets past my ears and forces me to forget everything except this feeling that I used to call being free

I miss me

Posted by Brandelyn at 11:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Definition (For NDJ3)

Who am I?
The answer remains to be seen
Titles
Labels
Definitions of fear
Created to calm the questions in your head
Not mine
My mind is free
Clear
Happy to simply be
Every movement analyzed
Every step calculated and recreated
You watch while I move

Dance, sing, write

Waving my arms like magic wands
Leaving clues like breadcrumbs
Of how to recreate me

Laughing

Watching
As you stand still
With your lips parted

Grasping at unknown questions

Dangling from your limitations
While I smile
Bobbing my head to the beat of my drum
You see me
You watch
You listen

You question

You dream
While I slip past you

Waving my arms

Spinning past your dreams
And smile

While you figure out

The definition of me

 © 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine

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No longer living in the land of grass is greener

The sparkling emerald green on my side is just fine

No longer wishing for a moment that was never meant to be

The right now moments of this solitude are filling me up

With more than I can chew

No need to wait

Satisfied enough to settle into the easiness of these moments

Turn down the hope

And turn up the acceptance

Sucking on the moments of this fresh new day

Allowing my eyes to focus instead of zoom

Allow my ears to capture this perfect gentle tune

That what I am

As I stand today

Is exactly who I was meant to be

The limited original fantasies

Have melted in to me

Full

Happy

Thick

Free

Gazing around at the lushness of my grass

Allowing my fingers to brush up against it

As the soft prickles of the tips play against my cheek

Its okay

Everything is as it should be and it’s alright with me

I can take off my shoes

Let the coolness run between my toes

And smile

Because the gently prickly softness of the perfectly dazzling Emerald Green

Is suddenly

All

And exactly

What I need…

© 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine

Photo Credit http://www.cambridgema.gov/TheWorks/departments/recycle/images/grass.jpg

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I want to write

Not about the moon and the stars

The soul and the taste of fresh strawberry kisses

Actually I kind of like the taste of fresh strawberry kisses

But I want to write

About the moments in between the good times

The tears that come from the inability to breathe through the laughter

The candle lit, open window, clean house breezy goodness of our days

The glance that insights questions and gives you the shakes

The way you felt the first time you heard that song that became your anthem

I want to write about the opposites that create hot and cold

Dark and light

Wrong and right

And that exact second where everything simply meets up in the middle

Yes that is where I dwell

In the land where there is no such thing as dreaming

Where color seeps out of every surface

Thoughts flow through lines of poetry

And love is divided freely

I want to write

Capture the images my mind creates

Take long baths in roses, milk and honey

Humming melodies in the quiet perfection

While sitting still in the middle of the day

And find a way to stay there

Return back to this world I have created

With nothing more than the tip of my pen

Yes

I want to write

Basking in the freedom of this quiet perfect solitude

© 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine

Artwork Credit: http://www.redsticker.net/shop/images/Burnt%20Orange%20Flower1.jpg

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It slows down enough for me to glance at the inside

Becomes close enough to graze the tips of my fingers

Slides in near enough to smell

And lingers near enough to taste

Becomes heavy enough to stretch itself across my mind

And take me there

But

I can’t

Because the dream is not mine to have

And the moments are not mine to share

The scent of the conversation is laced with the whispers of someone else

So I will sit here

Focus my fantasies on the right now realities and breathe away your scent

But

I can’t

Because I can hear you beckoning

Calling me closer

Waiting for more

© 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine

Artwork Credit: http://vanillapuddle.livejournal.com/

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Today i am immune to negativity

Immune to the concept that laughter is a foriegn language

And joy can only be shaken forward through a forbidden tongue

Today i embrace the wind And the fragrance captured in the leaves

And The orange tanginess of lemondrops

And the moments smokey with soft kisses and stolen glances

Today i embrace the questions

And challenge the doubts

My head aches from overthinking the lines and rhythms and confines of this poem

Keeping me tucked away from the issues and shades of gray

Today overthinking is a mystery

And My hips are exactly the shape and size they should be

Because today, finally, i am walking in the fullness and liberty of joy

Yes today is my day

And i choose to believe

That i can fight and wrestle for my sunshine

And win

That i can catch it with both hands

Slide it into a quiet place

And sing sweet soft lullabys

Reminding it that happiness is ours

And we can play in this world we have created

For as long as we choose

Because in the land of today

The hands of the clock rest on satisfied and content

The breezes taste like cinnamon

And we lay here

Silently basking in this feeling that goodness is real

And moment that is being strung together

Will be captured on a canvas

Colors melting into the definition of

Today

Artwork Credit: http://vanillapuddle.livejournal.com/

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Quiet encases my thoughts in the midnight of this morning

My minds eye searches for the moments she created

The footprints she left behind as clues to the path where i can find her

I remember her hair

How it always smelled like coconuts, flowers and green tea

And her skin always radiated the glow that came from somewhere that lay hidden behind those sleepy eyes of hers

Her laughter was like an instant cure to the various shades of blue that tried to swirl themselves into a knot and block out the heaviness of melted sunshine

I miss the way her eyes would glaze over making me itch to dive in behind them and stand in the center of the swirling tornado of thoughts

Her poems always made me think and remember and relish the taste of love

Her songs would make me pause and fall into the beauty of the world outside my window

I miss her

The stream of color that seemed to float behind the imprint of her feet

The way her scent would linger leaving traces of her energy wherever the breeze blew

I can see her

Waving at me through the plate glass of her factory

Churning out the remnants of her legacy to the beat of temptations and the penetrating scent of cinnamon and coffee grinds

I watch her from a distance

Enveloped in the colorful silence of her world

I watch her and whisper out

I love you

For whatever it is worth

And for whatever that means

And as i stuff my hands into my pocket

Turn and melt into the cold dreariness of my day

I suddenly realize the contents of my mission

Somehow for the sake of the good around me

I must find a way to get back to her

© 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine

Image Credit: https://anitagrant.com/images/stories/newsletter/BackOfHead_Afro.jpg

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In spite of myself

I had to find freedom from the voices

Whispers meant to attach lies to cover truth

Glances designed to confirm a vision long since glazed over and hazy

My tears have filled rivers

And dried up streams

Mountains climbed in solitude

Screams trapped inside my throat

 I thought my team was filled with more players

But my eyes blinked and I realized it has always been

Minus you

A space filled with an illusion of your presence

Now the space has slowly made room

For me

Gaps filled in

And holes lined with strong bold lines of truth

There is a freedom here

Finally

A freedom filled to the brim with security

That someone who is honest

Dedicated

Respectful of my character

And appreciative of my dreams

Finally

There is my freedom

Steady in its search to find its place

 In simply

Wholly

Completely

And decisively

Me

© 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine 

Photo Credit:

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I am an artist caught inside of this swirling world of mine. Walls padded with colors and soft melodies of sunrise. Struggling daily to free myself of the typical fixations blown on me by the breath of misunderstandings so I dance with motions that flow through every portion of my soul and the melodies stretch out and cover me blocking out the doubt and replacing it with daydreams that prevent me from forgetting the absence of forgiveness. Pain is my inspiration and questions become the final answer and solace can only be found in creation and this is why i breath out color, drink in soundwaves and float in the quiet of my solitude and the motions sing me a quiet lullaby reminding me that i am happy here in the quiet storm of my consciousness...yes...this is my identity. A beam of sunlight floating, dancing, singing the construction of my dreams, humming simple day dreams willing the mystery to climb down in between the blanket of my identity.

© 2009 Brandelyn N. Castine 

Image Credit: Creativecommons.org

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Artwork credit : http://steinunn.wordpress.com/2009/04/25/an-introspective-evening/

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Every poem has a song to sing

A thought to dream

A memory to wish through and share

Every moment has a hope to bring

Lyrics to repeat

Melodies to sync

And I wonder

How I survived this long

Without hearing the twists

And turns

And whispers of this song

Its love

Pouring down over me

Adjusting the way I breathe

Shaping forth the moments

When voices lived in joy

So I choose

To breathe it in

Suck it into my pours and laugh

Relax both shoulders

Bend both knees

Stretch out my back and live

Today I choose

Joy

© Brandelyn N. Castine 2009

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Stretch me out

Smooth over the edges

I’m free

Inside of the outside

Speaking the language of love

Missing the steps

Constructed past dreams

I can believe in

Me

My dreams

My destiny

My love

Because its mine

It belongs to me

It is what forces me to breathe

It is my reason for being

I am free

Free to love

Free to dream

Free to be

Because it is mine

And it belongs to me

I can cry and be free

I can laugh and be free

I can love and be free

I can paint I can dance I can sing and be

Me

Igniting all that is lovely

YES!!!!

Finally I can scream it

WHO I AM

IS

ME

Lovely

Open

Breathing

Me

Me

Me

Me

 
© Brandelyn N. Castine 2009

Breathe out the chaos and speak life...

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I miss that feeling. I’ve been missing it for so long that I actually learned how to live without it, breathe without it, laugh, dance and sing without it. Yet now that I have taken a moment to relax and hum I realize that all of the life and love was gone. There was nothing real standing behind it because that feeling was gone. Every day is now categorized by email messages and cell phones. Electronic hugs and well wishes and I know now that I have forgotten to breathe. Constantly grinding, moving, pacing, running, trying to catch my breath in the race that no one seems to win, standing, leaning, dreaming, wondering, questioning, where did that feeling go? I have no idea what it calls itself but I know it as that feeling that comes right after scanning the final pages of a book that forces you to smile with bittersweetness because you are sad that it had to end but it made you feel so good you’d gladly read it again. Or that moment when you remind your legs how to move after sitting and listening to Jill Scott pour her soul out on stage for hours at a time and all you have left to hold on to is that feeling. That feeling that nothing is impossible and that your problems really are temporary. That feeling that comes just before that first kiss or that last kiss or all those kisses in between and that moment that smoothes itself over you when you put on that dress that makes you forget you have flaws. I wish I knew the name to call the first night its warm enough to sit outside and breathe in giggles without the need for a jacket or sleeves. That feeling of seeing beauty, sexiness, power and intelligence glancing back at you from the mirror even when there is no one else to admire it but you, I miss that feeling. The feeling of curtains fluttering in the darkness, dancing to the melodies that float into the quiet of my space escaping from the collection of someone else’s mood, I miss that feeling. What do you call that feeling of accomplishment that comes from knowing you did something nice for yourself today? That feeling I get when I gently lay my thoughts down onto a page that was designed for my eyes alone and without the fear of judgment or scrutiny, suddenly every word hits home. Candles lit, Emily King in the background, Lauryn on deck ready to spit, breaths even and steady, no thoughts interrupting my revelry, where did that feeling go?

Posted by Brandelyn at 08:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

5/17/07

I wanted to Stay

I wanted to stay

To remain in that tangle of your arms

With my smile resting in the crook of your neck

Quiet blanketing us like an old familiar friend

I could be

With you

This way forever

But you were restless

The weight of your pride caused you to shift

And caused me to shift

And suddenly neither of us is comfortable

Until we are able to settling into our own space

This time my lips

Blessing my pillow with a kiss

Because you pushed me

Folded down in between your internal battles

Eyes fluttering from too many memories you forgot me

And settled back into the past

When she pushed you away and

Left you just when you were falling fast

So you fight me

Paying no mind to my song and dance

Choreographed to prolong your glance

But you blinked

And said what you thought I wanted to hear

Just enough to keep me near

But the emptiness of your face

And the passion that lay missing from your voice

And I knew

That while your touch remained soft

And your kisses remained soft

And your wishes remained soft

The moments remained

When you would drift off to that place I couldn’t reach

But you would come back

With all the things I needed to hear

And I wanted to stay

Needing to be your everything

Needing to be the song you sing

Needing to be yours

But you didn’t see me

Whispering her story in the midnight of your dreams

Adding to my burden by forcing me into her wings

And I carried them

Willingly because I loved you that much

And wanted to help you move past the sensation of her touch

I wanted to help you see me

I

Wanted

And that was the problem

I wanted so much for you that

I wanted to stay

But you pushed me away

Until all I could do was walk away

Pushing myself

Forcing myself

Willing myself

To turn away

Then you blinked

Startled by the empty space beside you

Startled by the lingering scent beside you

Startled by sensation you felt to call me

Because you blinked and suddenly I wasn’t there

And I left you

Reaching out your hand to me with your poetry

Reaching out your hand to me with your song

Reaching out your hand to me

But I had long since blinked

Reached out my hand to you

And kissed you goodbye

Handing back her wings

And slowing down my dance to a walk

I get it now

Just like you say

I wanted to stay

With so much left to say

I swallow it whole

And listen to your words

Saying everything you think I want to hear

But I see you drifting off to that space I just can’t reach

And when you open your eyes

You won’t find me

Even though

I wanted to stay

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5/14/07

Just me

I like to drink unsweetened Iced Tea at fast food restaurants instead of soda

That’s just me

I am sensitive to extreme levels

Often feeling devastated by the smallest comment or look

Most people don’t know that about me because I mask it well

But that’s just how I am

I prefer baths over showers

And will go to Target and spend loads of money on cleaning products

Just so my house will smell amazing when I walk in

I tend to draw close to people who are like me

Sensitive

Creative

Caring

Doers

You’d be surprised at how few of us there are

That’s why my circle of family is impressively small

I’d rather sit in my house, stranded and hungry then ask someone for help

Some may say it sounds crazy

But that’s just me

I make no apologies for my political convictions and will continue to fight for what I believe in for as long as I believe in it

I feel guilty when I watch television for hours

Because that very morning, I woke up and thanked God for a new day

And here I am wasting it on Girlfriends, sex and the city and flavor of love

I have a problem saying no

Even when I know for my own sanity and life

No is what I should say

But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t say it

I think its sexy when men write poetry

Or go out of their way to express themselves

I get lost in language and can read for hours without getting bored

Listen to the same song a million times over and sing my heart out

Like it was the first time

That’s just me

My hair is natural because of a bad perm

And because I’m getting back to my roots

When I tell you I love you

I don’t take that lightly

And that means I will do anything for you

That’s just me

 I believe in life and love and in all of the amazing things that God has promised

I believe he is trying to teach me patience by keeping me waiting

But He has also given many talents to make the wait interesting

I actually enjoy doing laundry and love sitting on my couch folding fresh clothes and breathing in all of that fluffed and folded goodness

That’s just me

I can be honest about my flaws

I can be honest about my success

I can be honest about what makes me smile

And what makes me tick

I can be honest about my life

Because it is only mine to live

I can be honest and say when something hurts

Even when my ears are the only ones to hear

That’s just me

And I make no apologies for what makes me, me

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Happy Friday everyone! This has been an interesting week to say the least. On Wednesday and Thursday I was asked to do a presentation on Poetry to an after school program that a friend of mine runs called Berkeley Scholars to Cal. The presentation I did yesterday was really fun and I asked the students to write Haiku’s and I promised them that I would post a few of them on my blog today. So ladies and gentleman, I present

Show me what is wrong

Can you lead me to the light

Show me what is right

            Dolani Age 13

Waiting, lay in bed

Slowly Waiting for darkness

Just waiting for death

            Julian Age 12

Flower in the Breeze

Blowing swiftly thru the trees

Trying not to fall

            Matthew Age 13

These kids really surprised me with how seriously they took this project and I was also really surprised with how many of them wanted to share. I was really impressed with this group of students and it really affirmed for me that I need to get my creative writing non-profit off of the ground. So to all of the scholars who were brave enough to express themselves through their poems...You are all now officially Poets! The Arts are not dead, just bracing itself for the next generation.

Peace Y’all

B

Posted by Brandelyn at 10:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

The following is an amazing piece of work by an incredible man who I feel should teach classes or something on courting women, but that’s just me. I would love to get feedback and opinions on this piece!

How Much You Meant To Me

I want you to stop being so Beautiful so I can stop being a fool . . .

'Cause we both know that's the only errand I can run

While I'm chasing you in this love sick daze

Making that mad dash to make you mine

Though it seems like every time

I get close you push back the finish line

But that's okay . . . I'll keep running

You see, I know it pays to be a gentleman

But it's hard to be gentle when

The only time I hear from you is every now and then

I've already picked flowers and plucked petals to see if you love me

Now all I do is pull weeds as I pass by

You love me not . . . you love me not . . . you love me not

Until my hands bleed and until I concede to the fact that . . . you love me not

If I called every time I wanted to talk to you

Whenever you picked up your phone I'd be on the other end saying "hello"

That's how much you meant to me

Which means little in the grand scheme of things apparently

Or else you'd be here next to me

Instead of me standing here alone for the world to see

Reciting poetry

Hopefully the next man won't care so deeply

And please believe me when I tell you, you were the apple of my eye

Metamorphosize in to the forbidden fruit hanging from the tree of knowledge of

love and heartbreak . . . happiness and heartache . . . completeness

And an emptiness not capable of being captured in words so I choose not to speak on it

What do you want from me?

All I want to know now is what do you want from me?

Cause even now it's but only a word and it's done

I think you're the one

That's why I want you to stop being so sensual so I can sate my need for your presence

All I wanted was to bathe in your essence

But you pulled the plug before I even got a toe in the tub

Did I only have time for a shower?

Our well being, being the only thing I was seeing

It's the tunnel vision of love

Which may explain why we failed to see eye to eye

I putting in mad work you putting in mad flirt

But failing to follow through which left me to do what?

I will give you this much . . . you appreciated every gesture

But instead of me being your king I became more your jester

Amusement tonight my queen?

Or maybe I am the king, the king of fools

To be used for sacrifice at festivals end