tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124878412011-07-07T13:15:50.403-07:00Life. Worth Living. Worth Watering.ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.comBlogger2381100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-65491316300850654092010-04-23T15:19:00.001-07:002010-04-23T15:19:31.542-07:00

Okay, so I am now moving towards lanching the recording of the poetry album, but I am looking for a good bass player. As soon as I find one, I will be well on my way. Wish me luck. You can also connect with me on Facebook.

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-26999437968759604602009-12-09T10:32:00.001-08:002009-12-09T10:51:36.488-08:00

Do you know what it is like to be Hung? (Sung) Do you know what it is like to be Hung? (Sung) No I’m not talking about that popular definition of Hung. (Sung) Like a bird in the air suspended in mid flight Hung(Sung) A multicolored rainbow of feathers in flight Hung(Sung) Seven stars, in alignment Hung(Sung) The rising of the sea to meet the moon Hung(Sung) The

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-3578192098583739652009-12-05T03:11:00.000-08:002009-12-05T03:11:08.584-08:00

Miss Mary Mack Mack, Mack All dressed in Black Black Black With Silver Buttons Butttons, Buttons All down her Back Back, Back She asked her mother Mother, Mother For fifteen Cents Cents, cents to see the Elephants Eleplants, Elephants Jump the Fence Fence Fence Miss Mary Mack Mack Mack All dressed in Black Black, Black She's on her way Way Way to get her man Back Back Back She went to town

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-14683710622167555932009-12-01T23:07:00.000-08:002009-12-01T23:07:19.788-08:00

wrath is the dried and fully fermented fatty seed of the cacao tree from which chocolate is made typically with a machete pulp and cocoa seeds are removed and the rind is discarded You must always handle wrath carefully, In order to separate the curse from the crème But the fool walks in the bitters ego sticking to his feet like chocolate with no sugar to cull and

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-60790713029435756242009-11-30T19:04:00.000-08:002009-11-30T19:50:48.926-08:00

Now that I'm taking this new journey, please register as a follower so I can update you on all things new....and speaking of new...a new poem..The lineNever outdone.Never out maneuvered.Flies even when falling.Has learned more from mistakesThan success.And success is no accident.Looking into a soul of a native sonThat has spanned many lifetimesBut always seems to know its way homeLandscapes of

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-55609851540039739902009-09-11T16:50:00.000-07:002009-11-30T19:51:05.291-08:00

In the sand, the storms, the snowIt grows;Where concrete meets the lean lineOf green, a seed waiting, listening for a whispered word: why not here?It grows;When history meets the darkened veil of a timeWhen ships of precious cargothat weren’t expected to comesailed in chained and bound, yet not brokenIt grows;A fluttering prayerA beating wishA railing armThe hands of grandma still smoothIn all

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-86190036936042198532009-06-06T11:08:00.000-07:002009-06-06T11:11:04.615-07:00

Sometimes my house is river without the musicThe music has run out of windows and doorsLeft deep carvings in rocks an quarriesAnd only wet humectants lieEvaporating sheaths of streamVicariously suspended in the silenceTrapped beneath a hard surface of hopeWhispering for rain

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-66796207104797499452009-06-06T11:03:00.000-07:002009-06-06T11:05:32.902-07:00

(song)Hello thereIs anybody there?I’m speaking to you from my heartbut the sound is caught mid airI’m tired ofGiving what I gotand loving you for what you’re notThat ain’t cool…ain’t coolI keep hopingin your bestWhen my hope’s worth so much lessThan my attentionBut I’ll play the foolWho will come and make it rightIf I don’t stand and fight tonightThis fightWith you for me, for me?And I don’t want

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-2980986589005557632009-06-06T11:01:00.000-07:002009-06-06T11:03:22.297-07:00

I know it was the blood(In memory of the lives lostTo the senseless thing that we know asMan’s inhumanity to man, dedicated to City of Oakland)Oh the inhumanity of it---I woke up this morningWith my mind(Stayed on jesus)Woke up this morning with my mind(stayed on Jesus)HallejulahThis poemRacing through my left ventricleAnd out of my rightIt lines up at my leg(ready)And races towards my stomach(

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-52659797323636596942009-01-02T15:09:00.000-08:002009-01-02T15:56:42.920-08:00

silenceslips insidethe tubaquiet casts a brassy glowupon the shadowy saxophoneamendedtwins,the french horn and clarinetaccompanied bythe hollow throatof acoustic breathand the night belts out what magic is left behind, and returns the breathto its proper restthe prayer without words ofempty eyesfull of the momentCan't you hear it?the baited still ofa willing willfog falling freshlyas white

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-74796179847869703482008-11-15T21:34:00.000-08:002008-11-15T21:40:03.805-08:00

hummmaybe you aremymarcusthwarted by an int eruption called "black history"fussing at me to get home on timedelighted by witty banterfrustrated by my stubborn waysthat refuse to m......m.....move.maybe that's why I am so scared of you--inviting me into intellectual adventureswithout the fussworking to build a life beyond the ruin of thiswhispering under your breathwhat a dang fool I ampraying

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-31464324857074647672008-11-15T21:21:00.000-08:002008-11-15T21:42:48.646-08:00

he is the kind that will make pretty babiesand ugly tearsa hulking super manwho still longs for his mama's breastsafter a day of misadventures in manhoodhis smile crawls inside spaces that it shouldn'tscurrying inside the empty spacesbetween thoughts and dreamslate at nightwhen I don't want to be botheredhe isunrepentantly popularevenin the most unflattering lightlike an undone cookiesmelling

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-14150353358222941272008-11-15T21:20:00.000-08:002008-11-15T21:21:00.677-08:00

Like a sweet fragranceIt rises;Scorched streets yield transformed treesOasis of human hopeGrown in a desertBees swoon to the flower ofits harvest heightThe implausible gardenBroke the hard earthdrank dark daysAnd came up spring--Deliverance dances in the streetsBurning again with the hope we thought had failed usAfter being auctioned off at the very steps of the great columnsOf hope itselfWe can-

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-33246331713173616932008-11-10T13:51:00.000-08:002008-11-10T14:18:54.094-08:00

"This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. "This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-14418662122192733462008-10-05T15:54:00.000-07:002008-10-05T16:43:48.400-07:00

I tried to write wordsthat could do you justicebut they have failed memy arsenal is emptythe syllablesthe punctuationthe vocabulary listsall frozen in perpetuitySimple characters won't do.I tried to write you words,words that could explaincould hug, and healbut with lacklusterthey've been arraignedtriedand acquitted.Simple characters won't do.all the dazzling metaphorsfalling flakes of new

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-53568801750215106822008-09-14T23:27:00.000-07:002008-09-14T23:28:42.936-07:00

Tied to the leftAns strappyTwo tonedAnd slim bonedMakes the brothers long for homeMakes them shout for joythese tiny delecaciesmassage the earth in circled“c’s”Step front step backSide to sideThey whisper warriorIn the click clackOf the swayed backGo , sister, goSee sister runSee sister commandLook out, here they comeWayward ribbonsA perfect witnessAsk the questionWho are you?And the story better

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-57194199357082588382008-09-14T23:03:00.001-07:002008-09-14T23:03:41.744-07:00

(Written in January 2008) How are you driving into your new year?Have you given yourself license to do all the things that you saidYou would not, could not do?Have you made resolutions anewOr are you still scratching waiting on a clue?How are you driving into your new year?Do you imagine yourself rolling in that big bodied Benz that wanted so badlyThat you woke up with a four

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-71863113091468609342008-09-14T23:01:00.001-07:002008-09-14T23:01:55.245-07:00

Are you alright, baby? Your soul looks sick.Is it well?Is it well?Is it well?Well is it?This is the story of how to get free.Not got free, but bought freeAt retail priceThis is a story of stumbling throughTransformation with deliverance on your shoulder, sin on your back, and grace at your sideThis is a story about having to walkWith humility because pride won’t letchu rideIs it, well?This is the

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-28540806141886910432008-09-14T22:43:00.000-07:002008-09-14T22:46:28.402-07:00

bend gracefullyat the kneea bowed beautygiving to everyone but herselfhow does she liveon lovein a cavernous glass housewhere love is a windowyet the earth is soshady?

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-80545650912376020562008-09-14T22:26:00.001-07:002008-09-14T22:42:33.370-07:00

Was watching I-Witness 911, and remembering. I didn't realize how much of my spiritual journey into adulthood was impacted by one act of destruction. I looked over my life and realized how much of where I am now began that day. I can taste the remnant of the memory in my mouth, even now.If there was no September 11th, I would have never fallen in love, never reaffirmed my faith, never been called

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-78405832062159433282008-06-01T00:18:00.000-07:002008-06-01T01:27:09.676-07:00

In memory of the story of David,a song of mourning, and rejoicingSung/Spoken:The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:He leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul:::::::::::::::::::: Quiet::::::::::::::::::::::::, then'This is my body, which is broken for you. Do this, in remembrance of me":::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-22939157885416539902008-06-01T00:04:00.000-07:002008-06-01T00:18:10.881-07:00

That was you, right?sauntering up to meWith a pseudo concerned look in your eyesLooking for water in the valley of the dried prideTelling me, "Now I know you’ll never be a superstarBut it would suit you well to raise the bar." "Come," you say, "I must tell you thisI just don’t believe that your wardrobe preference fitsMy preferred style of appropriateness.""Or maybe," you said, "If you just did

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-88674685875314689952008-03-21T21:01:00.000-07:002008-03-21T21:16:15.299-07:00

i.in the shadow of an unborn hopeis possibilityblack and loomingrunning from the pastpast, past, pastbut is it really?past?ii.behind the pulpitand the pewssit men of Goddifferent huesdifferent viewsdifferent shoesbut one faithand one baptism'membering how Jesus wasn't a brothertil he'd riseniii.the audacity of a hopethat lastsbeyond the last porch lightin a world that is contentwith darkness

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-19171253401984235302008-02-06T17:19:00.001-08:002008-02-06T19:54:01.169-08:00

Hey baby,congratulationsI heard about your new lifeshiny, brand new and tightthe life you breathed to dreambut didn't mean toyou inhaled only to calm your raging lungsred with screamsof too little air and spacebut look atchanow you walkin' like you own the placeAnd maybe you're scared that a tinge of hate may besitting on my shoulder?Well, baby, I'm happy for you.not because what went down wasn't

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-44754978961396967562008-02-01T20:36:00.000-08:002008-02-01T21:26:44.640-08:00

...to accept the things that I cannot change change the things I can and the wisdom to know the differenceI close my eyes and say a little prayerhoping that after ripping heartachemy laughter is still thereAnd for the life of me I cannot figure out howI let loose conversations and practical conversionsdistract me from my joyWhere is my joy?did it wander away from mepanic sticken with

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-35954146279413936662007-12-01T01:04:00.000-08:002008-03-21T21:23:34.103-07:00

i did not realize how wide the wound wasuntil it spread through my pasthuddled in the footstepsof lovewalking death rowto a secret hide awaynamed abandonmentthem always leaving before comingme always loving before trusting...I did not realize how wide the wound wasuntil it showed up at the door of my lipssmiling sweetlyuntil it reached over through my handsand touched hermy sister, my best

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-73833839833792532122007-11-30T21:37:00.000-08:002007-11-30T21:39:29.071-08:00

Sometimes our hands are all we haveThe clenched faceThe bent limbsBattered by a thousand hurricanesOf bulletsA single broken blade of green"…broken femur…transport…black male…seven years old..."snapped by a sedan rounding a cornera crossroads well traveledtheir blackened boots and brazen staresaccessoriesthe hardened giants walksilently into a tiny house on a holy nightit might as well bemade of

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1637464620958490502007-11-09T15:49:00.000-08:002007-11-09T16:15:29.885-08:00

BreakDay:you were in my earholding the whisper of my thoughtsshifting through the mountains of my mindin quiet cavernsBreakDance:explosions of sizzling heat dressed in dazzling beams of yellow brick road dreamsbut they look better on you than I thoughtBreakOff:tumbling through dusty dreadsthat I must cutbecause the words I love you are no longer a consent formfor me to carry you over this bridge

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-63451955475576111792007-10-28T00:27:00.002-07:002007-10-28T00:35:11.974-07:00

at night I thirst for you inmy dreamswill you step or swimstep across the gulfbetween languid hopesand stallward desparationare you a mire of a man or a myththat my mind has cut and choppedand minced into a balma salve for a heart bruised from battleor are you my air?my imagination, my destiny bequeathed to me froma time where I can no longerlook my fate in the faceand sayI dare youthe silence

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-33602969635821789842007-10-02T14:51:00.001-07:002007-10-02T14:52:18.797-07:00

One of my published pieces.After going through a myriad of personal difficulties and losing three black women who were mentors/sisters/guides to me, I began to doubt my faith. I thought myself to be doing everything as best as I could, and nothing seemed to be going well.I never doubted the existence of God; perhaps even worse I doubted that my pleas would be heard. I started crying and thought

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-44754461424602549752007-09-30T19:01:00.000-07:002007-09-30T19:04:53.323-07:00

****In Japan, everything was small, except her. Descript and stingy streets leading to small posh but cramped living quarters. She wondered how anyone here could make love in a bed that barely allowed her to sprawl her legs over the edge.She marveled at the lives of people spending their lives spent staring at sparse eggshell white ceilings.She spent the first two days deciphering how to unpack

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-23963242777302607322007-09-25T14:27:00.000-07:002007-09-25T14:32:18.024-07:00

i.in the valley i found no waterexcept the lake of my ownunlived momentswill these dry boneslive?ii. she's no good for him;he says, like lyrics with no music she plays a song with her eyesby sightbut never by heart

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-8798699153296157922007-09-25T14:20:00.000-07:002007-09-25T14:27:03.471-07:00

this pen is a bittersweetthingit loves like it writesbaking excusessemi sweetsquares

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-9250798265236693772007-07-21T07:01:00.000-07:002007-07-21T08:04:50.295-07:00

for my many sisters who have experienced abuseand for meThis one came to me in a dream.....Song:You’re standing hereAnd you’re in so much painWondering if He’s nearYou’re calling out His nameThe ones who were 'sposed to protect youUsed and rejected youThey didn’t believe the truth was trueBut I know God was keeping youChorus:Because it's alrightDon't be ashamedBeauty ain’t ashamed to know her

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-33773771566680530852007-07-06T12:01:00.000-07:002007-07-06T12:05:09.054-07:00

(part of a four part play)(Narrator)They were red. Candy apple red. Fire red.Cussing and fighting face beat red. Blood red. Red Sea red. Savior died and bled read. Red eyed red, red boned red. The kind of red that makes you think of a sunset you never saw, and ruby you never owned.(picks up the shoes and admires them.)They matched. In the window of the store there was a model, and she was wearing

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-11077121428941190162007-07-05T12:51:00.000-07:002007-07-05T13:06:29.648-07:00

slick sweetbubble yum kissescooled by sweet lemonadeconcessionswith a twist of awecalico catshoes clicking down streets that know them wellfull with fuchsia mea culpaswe hardly mention anymorethe endless spinningof abandoned recordsthe wide hipped full lungspeech of Julyhot, humid, and heavy withwords we shouldn't saybut always doduring this seasonwhen breath become brilliant sparklingdisplays of

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-7788466635354182802007-06-26T11:30:00.000-07:002007-06-26T11:54:55.808-07:00

a canopy of starsan awning ofbrightly fallenhope strung snowflakesover a mississippi lightning momentbright and gleaming;battered but smoothly poured hope into dark chunky soilgiving rise to billowy bloomsthe brazen rose of sharon redsunset set to the key of rusticthe magic hour when all seems lostand that is the beauty of it.

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-15319393622149760212007-06-26T10:35:00.000-07:002007-06-26T10:59:33.977-07:00

yesterday the wind blewand in that moment I knewI am unwelcome in my own dream.my laughter spills onto a pagefor which there is no roommy blinded eyes see starsor is it shadows?I am unwelcome in my own dreamthey look and stare, look and starehow dareshe?who she be?Offered nothing to eat nor drink,just as simple meal of mixed motives.I see what I have never known, dream of what Icannot owntry to

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-88395234589424879832007-06-25T10:13:00.000-07:002007-06-25T10:23:22.909-07:00

Tied to the leftAns strappyTwo tonedAnd slim bonedMakes the brothers long for homeMakes them shout for joythese tiny delicaciesmassage the earth in circled“c’s”Step front step backSide to sideThey whisper warriorIn the click clackOf the swayed backGo , sister, goSee sister runSee sister commandLook out, here they comeWayward ribbonsA perfect witnessAsk the questionWho are you?And the story better

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-44604685670508328472007-06-12T09:45:00.000-07:002007-06-12T15:39:21.473-07:00

You're my messengerYou're my leader.You are the person I send into the battle when the road is tough, and the resources are few.You're my healer. My water bearer.My fire starter.You kindle in others what I have kindled in you.You are my nurturer.You are the one that I have set aside for the special day of atonement.You are my deliverer.I send you into the dark caverns to be my light.You are my

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-86573351912010177972007-06-05T13:24:00.000-07:002007-06-05T13:25:24.638-07:00

Monday’s oranges were not so goodSunday there were lively lemonsThat danced with like beads of waterOn a hot panSaturday the mangoes rockedBack and forth on on the roof of m mouthPlaying a mélange melodyBut Monday’s oranges were not so good.Friday there were cherries so tight and blackThat I could clearly see myself.Thursday there were sepia pearsThat tickled the tongue, each biteA delicious

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-4184982474307931942007-05-15T16:31:00.000-07:002007-05-15T16:33:21.473-07:00

Purposefully positionedI stop and listenFor the sound of my nameflowingFrom your heartLike a stringed thingA wondrous winged thingI know every step is perfect in your handSongMy soul calls to youEven when my heart declines to answerMended my broken limbsYou made me a dancerWhen I had no eyes to seeYou showed me colors that dazzled the mindWhen I had no mouth to speakYour word stood and shinedMy

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-971538298715834452007-05-08T16:03:00.000-07:002007-05-08T18:38:35.625-07:00

you never said a wordYour outwardly jutting earsyour chubby cheeksconverge in familiargrooves--a fault insmack in the center of thecarefully positionedpuzzled frownthat spreads danglesas clearly as a participleor a lock of curlsyour pouty lipssweet and powderyand full of memoryinvade the corners of my eyesunparelled an unrivaled soverigntyof the mighty riverthat flowsyour nose curled up in a

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-10231225575215994362007-04-24T16:19:00.000-07:002007-04-24T16:37:24.055-07:00

Have you ever found yourself in the middle of the roadwith the high horizon of unclipped days ahead of youand the billowing brilliant blindness of your past behind youwith a 16 drumbeat on either side of each eardrumpressing?The militant green of a warrior's callin the wildernesssounds more like the soft cry ofwoman on the brinkquick, heart, think, think....it has got to be somewherethe

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-23662583305107634112007-04-09T17:12:00.000-07:002007-04-09T17:19:57.978-07:00

Today I remembered something I'd long forgottenlike a conversation or keysor those blasted gold sandals which must besomewhere in the back of my mama's closetI was looking for my past and I found herriding in the backseat of themaroon Javelincirca 1975bright radiantwishestickling the corners of herlipsa passerbywaves backwith grinthat seems to cross continentschromosomes, creeds, colorsI look at

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-46107484869315755362007-03-23T13:32:00.000-07:002007-03-23T14:01:03.046-07:00

your eyespetal softthey always come into me like thisbrown like leaveswhere do they go?a tormented soula struggling dialecta windy kiss you leavebranches and grass and leaves uprootedin your paththe calm in you spills into melike an inletfilling the rocks and hardened pathsthat no man had crossedi am engulfed in your potentialhalos of yellow and redfloral meccas melt into my feetcrushed only by

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-36595436087976604242007-03-23T13:20:00.000-07:002007-03-23T13:31:31.712-07:00

woke up this morningdrowning in a lifethat I didn't ask forsearching out my own survivalwaiting on my rescuea deep breath, and I go underthe minutes that I wastedwondering, worrying, waitingfor something to breakfreeMy mind is mired in thethickness of any and everyperceived injusticeI ever knewwet with the wordsof all those whotook from memy own breathto save themselvesin a cold and lonely

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-51851210581323025232007-03-18T22:16:00.001-07:002007-03-18T22:23:39.499-07:00

He blew into my earhot kissesof needy wordsKeep waiting on GodWe seek GodBut God is not lostWe areI thought of the ones who leftbefore they cameand dared myself to believeWhen it is time, he advised knowingly, gentlylike GodOne will be sentto love youHe, will find you.

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-48544972142376616782007-03-18T21:56:00.000-07:002007-03-18T22:16:34.453-07:00

The earth is a red linehot and seamlessit tears the sternumin the centerof my soulrippingpastwith furious forceleaving behindunravelled memories of myselfmy unselfmy selfishnessthat haunts melike my holeswithin the quiet meditation of Your presenceI am revealedthe scared sad girl that I amthe bold strong woman that I amThe two of themtwins in one soulfighting a battleneither startednor

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1172013123300898422007-02-20T15:11:00.000-08:002007-02-28T17:51:50.844-08:00

There was a word for what we wereBut you missed itA song, caught fermented, poured but spilledA table set for a guest who never arrivedA band too big for their own britchesLost in acres of stolen sounds that were givenBut never returned to their listenersSomehow being you always meantThat the meaning of me, on the tip of the tongueMust’ve slipped my mindThere was a beauty in who I wasBut you

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1172011847386764672007-02-20T14:50:00.000-08:002007-02-20T14:53:35.193-08:00

You may have broken my heartBut like a mended boneIt has grownOne side latched to the nextthe wound, the crack, the fleshhas closedmemory is made in place of fracture like a woman awakened from a deep sleepI am Strong and stridentSinging with a renewed pulse Ready to run again

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1172011216023376262007-02-20T13:34:00.000-08:002007-02-20T14:40:16.156-08:00

Use meUse me until I am all usedUntil there is nothing left to squeezeTo emptyTo holdUse my laughter to water your gardenIn the winterAnd my tears to wet The curved faces and arms of a churlish summer Lace every memory of me you ever foundUntil it gleams like hopeAnd wear it on dates Until one day white and wedded with hopeYou walk Use meUntil my sweat becomesThe levy that leaves The dry land

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1170470831428034352007-02-02T18:41:00.000-08:002007-02-02T18:50:41.256-08:00

Lead me into the valley That has no secretsBewitch me with your brillianceWhisper words of loud loveProvoking the eardrum of time To explode with fuchsia raysconducted on a sovereign streamof bright blended hopeRun your words into and throughstiff fields of firebrazenly with unassuming gall Travel ten thousand roads less traveled Until your compass returns you here Give in to meAnd I will yield

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1170291995140731552007-01-31T17:03:00.000-08:002007-01-31T17:07:25.733-08:00

Be still When the roving bands ofWant roam the valley of your soul’s earth When heaven and earthEclipse at the meeting of your mouth When the sound of your own sorrowFills the lungs with soulless wind As time touches your cheeksIn tepid tears Be stillAll creation kneels in eight perfectOctaves of applause Shifting the light to display billions born to sing His operatic praises Take heart,Knowing

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1170291768110080592007-01-31T16:55:00.000-08:002007-01-31T17:02:48.126-08:00

a schizophrenic summer of ungentle dreamingthe maiming of the mind bleeding hot laughtertheir rage destroyssimple screams

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1169502395872499322007-01-22T13:43:00.000-08:002007-01-22T13:46:35.886-08:00

pleased percipitiouslydropped her shiny and new attitude as punch entereddrunk as usual

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1169497956272564952007-01-22T12:32:00.000-08:002007-01-22T12:32:36.286-08:00

stillnessbends towards nature'srustling weight chilling stars branchwith poised possibility delicious dustseach desire free as a thousand boughs fallen

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1167215480686322362006-12-27T02:28:00.000-08:002006-12-27T03:03:15.560-08:00

A woman, I loved once---loudly.Even her soundless quiet towers the smallest soulIn stalking feet “Who stole the soulFrom its home?” she sings in stormy colored hurricane harmonies Upstage Six silver steel strings are dressed and waiting Fresh sticks are ready for rhythm breakingSkin caresses twinkling saxophones punch drunk with electric breathTendriled keys with girlish pitches fish for a tune

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1166818674742561192006-12-22T12:17:00.000-08:002006-12-22T12:17:54.756-08:00

Knowing that the chains are broken on my behalfI lay to rest my battle,Like wind to the woundheavy memory irreligiously crushes the simplest wishes Yet, I am encouraged Today, I break bread with my past Though it is thick, hard willed, and obdurate big bodacious desire, buttered hopes I offer for Hard heeled words, hungry for higher groundI lift my coldest hope to my lips, cup it in my hands and

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1166745715564121722006-12-21T15:59:00.000-08:002006-12-21T16:01:55.580-08:00

You too, can create a gigan. The Gigan is created and named by Ruth Ellen Kocher(http://aboutaword.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_aboutaword_archive.html)after one of her favorite godzilla movie-monsters.The form consist of 16 lines in following order:couplet (2-line stanza)tercet (3-line stanza)coupletcoupletcouplettercetcoupletThe 1st and the 11th line are the same.The 6th and 12th line are the

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1166741450952107342006-12-21T14:50:00.000-08:002006-12-21T15:17:01.186-08:00

the curl of the cupagainst the lipredas the ricefrom unbecomingshades"...as caustically haunting as red on china", critics say…one, two, four beatsit is as is the lightof the worldpunctuated by darknessher moonlit moan slidesrashlydown her throatpungent and piercingif she were in her ownthe songs would comeunrestained by thewanderlust whiteof the milkas it pourssoundlessly on sable skinrich with

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1166550976275814702006-12-19T09:50:00.000-08:002006-12-19T09:57:19.686-08:00

warm weatheredstill standingI touch a moving universeit sticks to my fingersluminous and translucentLike silk, it pulls.Where would I be withoutmy questionssoaring high over a milky bay? the light from far away starsbeautiful and rash nursing my sorrowsforever waiting?

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1165388964248219302006-12-05T23:07:00.000-08:002006-12-05T23:11:07.713-08:00

why? becauseshe smokes;even against better judgmenteats grits with butter, despite the cholesteroland she’s hungry. Add to thata philandering good-for-nothingtwo bit desiretwo parts liquid longingallowed to boil and billowover open barrel bluesserved raw with sizzling peachessans-- the pitsher saving grace-wedding vows brokenbefore the stone faced chinaa man who loved the idea of her,like fat

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1165386075804081712006-12-05T21:47:00.000-08:002006-12-05T23:12:23.976-08:00

be as it may thenthat love isn't a beggerit's a borrower

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1165020297382122212006-12-01T16:41:00.000-08:002006-12-05T23:05:36.860-08:00

In Memory of Officer Kaliah Harper inspiration passages....“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed." Luke 10:38-412 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. 3 And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. 4 God saw that the

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1164947478169273982006-11-30T20:22:00.000-08:002006-11-30T20:32:12.360-08:00

I can't tell--I can't tell youWhat to doI can't even tellyounot to cryBut might I suggestYou fall on your faceand thank the Lordfor giving you gracewhile singing"Favored, Favored, am I"chrousFavored, favored am Ifavored, favored am IYou blessed be Lordwith your bestOverlooked my unworthinessand so i sing"Favored, favored, am I"They may have leftleft youin the coldand just walked on byBut might I

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1164586663291716842006-11-26T16:03:00.000-08:002006-11-26T16:33:52.130-08:00

hug upon my curves like a road untraveled golden thread unraveled from a silken gown my landscape is none other than lovely plunging, daringly fulland dreamed stitched do you dream as well as you dine, drunkenly they ask me or maybe as well as you sleep ma? avec la vie si douce, pourquoi vous

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1164585809013802652006-11-26T15:59:00.000-08:002006-11-26T16:03:29.050-08:00

the stilled soulsurrendersto lifeopens its ample mouthkissing todaythenbreathing in thewhimsical womb worldofdistilled lovelets go

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1164091685657862122006-11-20T22:42:00.000-08:002006-11-20T23:45:12.520-08:00

harlem iships hardwood big bodied brickslegacy risinglike the sunbathing brownstonesover high highsthe pitter patter often thousand feetin a dream deep breathechoing againstthe ear of New York --music.

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1164089699610918752006-11-20T22:14:00.000-08:002006-11-20T22:14:59.633-08:00

in myso called naivete Iwithheld nothingfrom youbelieving that you would not stealwhat was given freelyI cooked.and seared.and chopped.and simmered.and bastedtenderly,with the bestwines---I lostmy lovera latentrapistwho liked tender thingsrare and chilledeven a head held high.I no longer cook your mealsalthough I am seared with the scent of your sexa loveinverted;it went down well,but ended angry

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1163961927791268242006-11-19T10:39:00.000-08:002006-11-21T01:06:26.763-08:00

(spoken)Tasting the weight of my ownworth,I was satisfied beacause I was redeemed(sung)How much would it cost youto dream your own dream?PotentiallyLive your own life?Potentially?Is all that you are and will ever beWrapped up in your potentiality Or are you just yearningTo be freeFrom the potentialI see (spoken)If time were to reach over and touch itselfAnd all that was left was thescent of utter

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1163657867734454662006-11-15T22:14:00.000-08:002006-11-20T23:36:37.103-08:00

looking for the answerin an oceanof questionshope may floatbuti am without a life jacket

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1163409063906470832006-11-13T00:56:00.000-08:002006-11-21T01:07:50.743-08:00

ChorusLovely as a ray of sunthat touches me when the mourning comesand it feels goodBrilliant as the bright blue seawhen the peace of God washes over meand it feels goodverse i.It feels goodNot the kind of good you feelwhen you've got money in your handIt feels goodnot the kind of good you feelwhen you're out chillin' wit your manIt feels goodnot the kind of good you feel when you've got yourhair

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1163048825350371702006-11-08T21:02:00.000-08:002006-11-21T01:13:54.040-08:00

of ashes, and only ashes we send themtall blackwalkingreferendumsmen in hatscolored by their smug grinsdreams dressed in ties, a bit to snugwho took the dreamfrom its boxand made it displaya mausoleumrather thanshiny-new-ready-for-assembly?who undressed our civil memorycaught in the haze of breezy talklifted up what we skirtand revealed what men left uncovered?what won't men steal in the nameof

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1163047078583628152006-11-08T20:32:00.000-08:002006-11-11T19:21:50.023-08:00

i. looki seem to be lostin my own integritysearching for my core ii. knowIt has been said that God knowsThe inner person of the heartwe do not need to wear it on our sleevesor vests likebuttons

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1162222200470000052006-10-30T07:19:00.000-08:002006-11-21T01:11:39.460-08:00

loving you means spacetakes time;continuallyspent all my energysquared shouldersslumpingfrom the pull of your wordsnonplussedby the posture ofbad habitsand the though time spent cannot be destroyedonly changedfromyour heartto minebody does not will itself to stay in in motion;one thing overcomes allall things return to dustall love resturns to Sourceand all theory in the presence of spiritis

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1162193487323476032006-10-29T23:30:00.000-08:002006-11-20T23:37:08.596-08:00

Plot: Sean, a young man looking for salvation his place in life, believes that music will heal his family, friends, and his neighborhood. Character DescriptionsSean Jones: A young man looking for his way in life, an aspiring party promoterADULT SEAN JONES: NarratorShara Moore: Cousin and best friend to Simone Pharaoh Conners: Charismatic, bright, but bad best friend of Sean. Simone Jackson: A

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1161982838453912122006-10-27T13:59:00.000-07:002006-10-28T00:03:57.090-07:00

What is truth?Does it have a name?Though I have been called many things that I am notAnd am many things I have not been calledI amI have stood before Rulers and the ruledKnees bentTo Him aloneWhat is in a name?It has been said that in lifeNothing is personalBut what is more personalthan thisRitual of ritesThan the substance of things hoped forThe evidence of things not seenWhat is in a nameThat

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1161338264318445332006-10-20T02:42:00.000-07:002006-10-20T03:13:43.466-07:00

verse i. (repeat x2)There is this bridgeI call my backand it is where I carry my painI've laboredbeen highly favoredsent to the backwhen I was next in lineI've carriedwounded wishesof the enemyupon my spineand I'm cryin'Lord, don't you think it's timeThat I come homefrom homeI'm ready to lay my burdenat the throneChrousI carried it(Depression and fear)I carried it(doubt in my ear)I carried it(so

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1160116711104388632006-10-05T23:33:00.000-07:002006-10-06T10:37:04.620-07:00

For every one of you who fought a battleIn her own mind over her own worthiness--"A moment of clarity where I remember who we wereI stretch my arms to the sky to embrace the sunTo show you that although I will never touch the sunI can always reach"This poem is dedicated to the memory of a fellowPoet who penned those wordsFallen verbs into hungry ears ofA world that loves us coldly to the tender

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1159832954854926252006-10-02T16:48:00.000-07:002006-10-02T16:54:10.890-07:00

Scriptural BasisPsalm 23 (NIV)A psalm of David. 4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; Song 2:1,6-8,16 (NIV) I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys...Luke 12:27 (Wey) "Observe the lilies, how they grow. They neither labor nor spin. And yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was as beautifully dressed as

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1159248848100920602006-09-25T22:31:00.000-07:002006-11-21T01:15:13.396-08:00

Dedicated to our valedictorian, you know who you are…To understand this storyYou have to rememberI wasn’t meant to be hereIf you were,Your humanity may let you understandAnd be chilled to the marrowBut if you weren’t you willCry streaming songs of Laughter I wasn’t meant to be here I wasn’t meant to dreamto be born, reborn to even be birthedBut to be used, sacrilegiously I woke up this morning

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1159046328855855292006-09-23T13:52:00.001-07:002006-09-23T14:28:39.190-07:00

don't fightover the corruptible or bicker over her pearlswhen she's goneyour grandmotherwas once a womanremember thatlike youshe dancedwith lifeshe walked down the streetthe world stoppedand swoonedin the fullnessof her youththat she ragedand reignedand prayed and lovedand lostmore than you have foundbut not morethan there isto be found remember that your grandmotherwas a womanthat she

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1157869413124723392006-09-09T23:23:00.000-07:002006-09-09T23:23:33.126-07:00

I’m Wrapping you a giftso that the picture of you and Itaken so long agois fully developed In renewed faithAnd hoping you findIt inJoyJoy periodNot joyCommaBut everlasting joyThat needs no reasonNor an excuse But joyWrapped in the faith that I shoved in a bagAnd left homelesson your doorstepMany nights agoThat faith didn’t belong to you,So I must reclaim it But this joy does.I gift you All that I

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1157867941663116152006-09-09T22:56:00.000-07:002006-09-09T23:23:12.423-07:00

i.I heard a rumor that she was invincible--astunning beautyaching fortragedyii.The lingering lovershadow hip huggerimprovisational conversationalistshe never sleeps with thosewhom she's already beddediii.Old loveNew loveOften borrowedAnd sometime blueAn evolvement of the sum total ofspace, time and opportunityiv.A convergence of two soulsA union of remittance And no matter how cold she leaves

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The chain linked fenceremembers our woundsourskinny arms attachedlike subject to verbyou are methe first valentinecrooked letters: be mine?was thereever such a thingas inner innocenceback when your best friendwas a first lovenot an alternative or a superlative fighting over who got the last pack of grape pop rockswho did the bump betteruntil you fell over with laughterhitting the fenceseparating

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1156737507403373192006-08-27T20:31:00.000-07:002006-08-27T20:58:27.883-07:00

(VERSE 1)I see you got an educationCan tell your nouns from all your verbsYou can add,divide,and multiplyAre you hearing what I heard?You can tell me about Egypttell me why stocks rise and fallBut my friend, if you don't know HIMyou don't know nothin' at all (solo)Whoa, nothin' at allNothingWhoa, nothing at allNot a thing(Choir)Do you know?Do you know?What do you know?Do you know?Do you know?(

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If you are considering taking your life, please know there is hope, beloved ones...Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problemthe wonder of windsthe kiss of the soula cold wordbreaks, but won't bendbreath of my breathskin of my skinyet hungry to the boneshe leaves behind a packagedpoem--soul, gone, home.a pause between her eyes and the dreamthe resident musehas movedbut her things

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i.You claim that I have Been derelict in my lovingBut the dereliction was in the deliveryii.The heart is a slippery creaturebut it like to be held just the same

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1156229094964116602006-08-21T23:44:00.000-07:002006-08-22T00:01:11.576-07:00

I try to 'cop a 'tude/ like I don't care/because it hurts less that way/because the risks are so great/the returns so infrequent/because they never love me, but the idea of me/beacause i always said it would be the man that couldn't walk away who would have me/cauze walking is a man's sport/and I have known the stars/cauze above all else I come with my own things and i don't need nothin' on

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1155840562115160572006-08-17T09:46:00.000-07:002006-08-17T14:03:28.116-07:00

Who killed little Miss America?the flaxen hairedtawny curled beautythat so many secretly adored?Was it anadulterousslightof handcutting through the nightor was it the sight of heran angelfreeze framed in her family photoinnocence and knowledgedancing on her foreheadlike sizzling beads of sweat?who will dance for us nowwho will bw the coveted dreamthat no one hasbut we all long for like the ache

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1155689334152119222006-08-15T17:40:00.000-07:002006-08-15T17:53:42.710-07:00

I lean into the sloping curveof a naveled nexusand lick bitter sweet fruitsalty, like lime on the lipsof a glass where the drink has takeninroads to the human valley somewhere between heaven and earthit is the in betweenthat gets me every time the sin and the reconciliationthe love and lossthe faith and fear"All the evil and all the love" as Shug Avery saysthat keeps methirstingfor something more

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1155606575335128262006-08-14T18:26:00.000-07:002006-08-14T18:49:35.510-07:00

Hey-yay-ayIt's a new day!(It's a new day!) Hey-yay-ayIt's a new day!(It's a new day!) Your giftfrom Godis your debt to the worldyou give becauseit was given to youfree of charge To whom much has been givenMuch is requiredThe requiem of a dreamrooted in God's desiresNo matter how hard it getskeep that inner fireAnd God will take your talentuse it for something higherHey-yay-ayIt's a new day!(It's

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1154566567281997342006-08-02T17:51:00.000-07:002006-08-14T13:00:06.036-07:00

(sometimes the characters come alive..) Oriole SluggerCat in the hat loverLives to paintHer SmilesHe’s gotta heart of thunderAnd lighteningandThat frightens herInto fierce defense Ready for the pitchHe waitsAnd wantsCotton candy mouthed For herNever has such a whole womanMade him feel more like a manBold, bodacious brassinessSo warm and real He watches herWith a quiet aweThis woman he’s been

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1153676706175306302006-07-23T10:23:00.000-07:002006-07-23T10:52:19.400-07:00

it is the hottest summer on recordthe concrete searsandswellsI want some ice creamshe said sheepishlylong legsbare feet and delicate toeskissing the dashboardpretty baby,look at youspoiling that baby alreadyhe whispers seductivelyhis hands rubbing her thighYou know what that means,rightmy son gonna be blackas that chocolateOr black as youshe teased and rolled her eyesgo get us some rocky roadhe'd

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1153465847315464622006-07-20T23:47:00.000-07:002006-07-21T00:10:47.373-07:00

I lost my right breast todayno longer will it feed beckonbloomor wiltIt is faith interruptedThe casualty of a silent warthat treads heavily on my mindI lost my right breast todaythe doctors tried to save itbut it was too heavyempty from feeding an unruly world the yolk of peaceand axis of six nations that know my namebut not mea monument that no longer standsyet still speakseven when my face is

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1153462968408443102006-07-20T22:59:00.000-07:002006-07-20T23:31:56.953-07:00

For the Children of JacobI step over mountainsand rivers beg to follow my feetI speak--oceans dancing with wrath stand still en pointe I am the changing seasons of the universeraining gently like rose petalsmy spirit green, wild, and lushlike the tropicsI sing in B flatmy voice a sand filled flaskmy tone deep like a full bodied wineand the sands of time still, and becomedrunk with my lightI

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1152911257945087482006-07-14T12:43:00.000-07:002006-07-14T17:39:02.736-07:00

On the cusp of world war....In the beginningthere was a wordand the word waswith God The earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep,and the Spirit of God hovered over the watersAnd God said, "Let there be light,"and there was light God saw that the light was good, and He separated thelight from the darkness And the earth was green and lush.Today, there is a

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1152438017154372172006-07-09T01:42:00.000-07:002006-07-09T02:40:17.176-07:00

Poem:Notwho what why where or whennot just us, but themhe forgives, not only for the givenbut to the offered and for the refused preserving integrityin the sea of the perused and used more than the verbbut the core of the wordsplintered adjectives and nounsstand stillas he moves Chorus: Lovely as a ray of sun, that touches me when the mourning comesand it feels goodLord you're so goodBeautiful as

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-1152237171960271192006-07-06T18:28:00.000-07:002006-07-06T18:54:25.480-07:00

Notwho what why where or whennot just us, but themhe forgives, not only for the givenbut to the offered and for the refused preserving integrityin the sea of the perused and used shhh.. it's a secretmore than the verbbut the core of the wordsplintered adjectives and nounsstand stillas he moves he is the light on the dark faceof men who seektheir own salvation in his absence they mourn his rays

ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0