Crossing Over

I’ve been seeking my virginity
have you seen her?
she’s been
hiding from me
during my search
I reminisce about her and those times before
when I didn’t know what I know
when the flesh
couldn’t test my weakness
those days before
mini skirts and no panties
before
midnight episodes in the back
Of his Cutlass Supreme
before
french kisses
between classes
hidden monkey bites behind turtleneck sweaters
I’ve been looking
for my innocence yet
I lost she
at the pivotal age of 17
on full mattress and box spring
he bed me
King
wed me
teenaged bride
I cried
"no"
I cried
"stop"
but
he didn’t hear me
just continued to push into my soul
until it ripped and gave in
tore into my world until it let go and gave in
I
gave
in
and gave
way
un
willingly
tiptoed slow
alone
into womanhood
newfound feelings, desires, clouded my mind
and stature
no longer a child who dreamed big
I became a woman who loved hard
but only with the tangible
because
touch equals charity
and
all we truly ever want
is a little charity
unconditionally
given with
with no strings attached
I reminisce

I
didn’t fight back

I
should have fought back

I’m
looking for my virginity

have you seen her?

MY west side story

she
hates
me
there’s no way that I can blame her
when photos of my very self-have been found
intermingled in emails to you
surprises wrapped in nakedness with a bow that read
"for YOUR
eyes,
only"
my voice
lacing your answering service
thick and melodious
as if you
had just
left
no
I don’t blame her for hating me
for tearing each picture sent
every card or love letter written
for cursing my name everytime
804 mysteriously
appeared on your caller id
you don’t have to confirm it for me
I know
She hates me
and to be honest? I agree.
How apparent it is that I hate myself
for continuing to play concubine
second wife
in this poly-faux relationship
when I know what I deserve is
unconditional commitment
but I continue chase rainbows with Lucky
trying find gold at the other end
as you profess your love for me
daily
between hushed voiced phone calls
three word emails
and emergency grocery store trips for
butta pecan ice cream
how painful it must be
for her to continue to compare herself to me
yet never being able to tally up the whys
when she and I
are like night and day
and yes
it hurts
constantly falsifying my need to be
apart of your daily living
blowing hot air up my own skirt
as if I can complete you fully
when in truth
I am only the "good time gal"
because she
Is who you go home to
she is who you share a bed with
she is who your family knows
and I
I am fantasy
phone calls and emails
photo streams and
tags
messages that linger over digital connections
that
lasted over years that remain uncounted
this
digital ghost that is me
is who taps into her insecurities
because she will never be able to understand
why she
is not enough
and between the two of us
truth is
our love combined can never be enough for you
so I won’t waste my time hating her
nor will I pity her life as wife to you
I will just continue
to seek sustenance in
green clovers
blue diamonds
orange stars
pink hearts
and purple horseshoes

I Am Changing. . . .

I can't wait to get the soundtrack to this album. I saw this play at Coppin State this past June and it really hyped me up for the movie. . .I truly can't wait!!

a place, I never like to visit

A place called, Jealous

Here, in the land of the living
her spirit seeks weakness as prey
unsuspecting love affairs
break easily as she
feeds on uncertainties
cell phone rings with no responses
daylight hours turn into midnight moments
of emptiness
this
is her stage
the place in time where she
makes it her business to torture me with
possibilities of infidelities and other sickening imagery
that could easily drive me crazy
I try to ignore her soft fallacies reverberating in my subconscious
like echoes,
constantly bouncing off the partitions set in place to protect my heart
I focus on
promises kept
replay the days before and relive happiness
until she slides in
cueing the screen for selective emotions and thoughts
memories that I knew to be
ancient history
mockingly she begins to twist my confidence tight like bread bag ties
sealing in insecurities so they can remain
fresh
like the scars left from my previous relation
she picks at the scabs
so that the pain can feel new
so that the sting can feel new
so that the memories appear to be new
digging her nails into the lesion that had just started to heal
she bays at the moon in celebration
as I sit
inebriated
off of house-shaped assumptions with no floors
held up by a string
she dangles it freely in my face
leading me down familiar roads and pathways
where we chase stories of where you’ve been
who you’re with and why not me
I loose my step and find myself
here
again
Jealous.

Ressurect Me

scrolling through pieces of pieces and other lil things I never finished with my writing I happened upon this lil blurb...and what better way to ressurect me than dig in the burial grounds of old written word and find something HONEST to share.....

"mentally I wanna believe that you can love me the way I need to be
but emotionally I can feel the holes left in between the promises of "I got you"
so spiritually I tread lightly around the idea in hopes that one day
I don't have to pray to be loved the way I deserve to be
I will just be
loved
because I deserve to be"

I LOVE ME!!

This past Friday my roommate and I went to see Goapele and Dwele at Friday's at Sunset (see me with my summer look goin on) I love taking photos when I'm going out. It helps to mark the day in history for me and I also like to just see how I look via the camera's lense.

I tell ya I have grown up. My look that is I can see a maturity in it...

Most folks say I haven't changed a bit, as far as I look - and perhaps I haven't in their eyes. But I can see my level of happiness in my pictures - I can tell when my smile is forced or genuine...I love this picture of me...

what can I say about my life right now? I'm in love. I got promoted in February - and am actually enjoying what I do and see potential for it to be more...I am actually happier now than I have been in a while. Now life is far from perfect, but I'm happy with who I am and happy with how far God has brought me and am patient to see what's around the next corner. I wonder if people even READ this blog anymore... if anyone does....thanks - I know I barely keep up with it...if not well its my BLOG so! Its for me anyways...

<---the deep thinker

Shai

Good Friday

just decided to write sumfin for GP
I have nothing to say really
I'm happy its friday - 5 more days until my 30th!

I'm semi-excited
Happy to be turning 30, noticing how much I've matured of the last year alone is incredible. How well I know myself - its almost mind boggling. Sometimes we have our own ideas of who we are and what we project to people - and most of the time those ideas are WRONG WRONG WRONG and sometimes we have to step back and really look in the mirror - even at the things we'd rather not see - - I love it. 30 is going to be a good year for me....

My cousin and my two sistas (from MBC) will be lunching with me on that day at a chinese restaraunt that I chose - hope they like it, the weekend me and my Man (i hate that phrase my Man, I don't like the term "friend" either because it sounds like demotion, and boyfriend is hate - - but what do I call him?!? perhaps within the next year there will be a title that will STICK) anyways we are suppose to be doing something my birthday weekend - not sure what yet prayerfully it will not be some extreme sport - bungee cording or sumfin crazy like that...

I post this picture of Jill Scott because 1) she's an Arian like myself 2) she's a poetess like myself and 3) to be she is the epitome of grace and beauty a true woman. I aspire to exemplify those attributes to young women.

Yes my 30's will be the year of selfless giving. . .

Shai

for the time being this is untitled....

I apologized
Profusely
Still you refused to believe me
So
truth be told
I lied
I did mean what I said
Every individual word as I replayed them in my head
I re-read that last email
Where I spoke from my heart
No fluffy sugar coated antidotes to make you feel
More comfortable
I spoke
Seriously without thinking of you
Only focusing on me
But still
I apologized
Because truth be told
I didn’t say those things to hurt you
didn’t write those things to break you down
or make you feel less than a man
I spoke freely to free me of any deception
That could possibly hinder our relation
still
You took each verb personally leaving me to apologize
For the truth
To swish around each sentence
To make sure there was no bitterness
Or after taste
After each hoop I jumped through
Seemed like nothing could soothe you
Like promiscuous lovers
Waiting on the test results
I counted each day
Searched your disposition for some sort of
Inkling some way to let me know
What the day will bring
Still
Nothing
So I say fuck it
I’ll just ask you
Will TOday be the day
That the truth
sets me free?

Bull Sh!T

I'm just typing
because I haven't been blogging here lately and I just wanted to put something here...

I have been thinking about my writing
or lack there of
I've tried to start working on new stuff.. . . but inspiration is fleeting...

at any rate

I LOVE ME!

do you love you?

~Shai

Celebrating 3 decades of Fabu'ness

Original Power Nap

this was one of those days
that I craved to hear your voice over the phone
whispering
"what are you wearing"
mimicking your soft tone
I’d answer
with details that no one else would ever know
like
the
silk that
covered my rose petal’d lips silencing their obvious ferment
the
lace that
hugged my nipples so gently
I’d include things that I knew
would peak your interest
creating a image that begged for 4-D sensory
reality, touch
taste,
smell,
sounds like promises made in vain
weekend rendezvous
yes
but not for the obvious
together we’d fit
easy like
puzzle pieces
each curve would bend perfectly
the heat would
lull our bodies to sleep while
you hum
unconsciously

"if you are worried bout where"

"I’d been or who I saw or…"

"baby don’t worry you know that"

"…..you got me”

with deep sighed response, I’d agree
as if on cue
our bodies move
change positions until comfort sets in
we’d meld extremities until our
heartbeats would synchronize
like decoder watches at the bottom of cereal boxes
so excited to finally be able to hold the prize
sustenance would take a back seat
just so we
could
marinate in holding intangibles

"I love us"

we muse our hearts together like quilting techniques
handed down from generations of "what could have been"
only to remain distant lovers
living in depressed states seeking the justifiable
escape
knowing that the time allotted for us
will expire soon
we
plaster smiles on our faces
mimic joy in our voices
traveling in separate directions
back home; back to chained fools
in love with confused hearts reminiscing on power naps
clinging to
an intimacy untouched
never acknowledging
the depth that was left
sleeping
on queen sized sheets
in master bedrooms
filled with
vanilla
scented
candle perfumes

to be honest...

I really didn't like my last post. I think for a moment I stepped out of my normal realm of writing for the sake of pleasing someone else or perhaps it was I was being pushed to do "better" than my normal. For that, I apologize. There were some aspects of the last piece that I liked perhaps I'll revise it and make it more me....not sure just yet what I will do with it. The ENTIRE premise was based on the beauty of a nap betweenst lovers, friends, lovers & friends - whatever title you prefer. Perhaps I was thinking too much.....none of that matters now. I revert to my bedroom with my three closest and dearest friends (Mike Jones, BobiAnne, & John D'Baptiste) okay so many they aren't' my closest and dearest friends but at least I can rant and rave and they not talk back....that's what I need NO BACK TALK (giggle)


Shai "the artist who really is a recluse disguising as a socialite"

power nap

preface: it is in our sleep we are our most vulnerable. it is in the same space in time we feel our most safe.

The Visit

I see him
clear as the day is new
for a moment I allow my eyes to drink his visage
seems almost unquenchable
this thirst
then it begins
the tickle in my heart followed by the fluttering of
a million humming birds all wanting to perch on my
emoted soul
the core of my being is lost in this world
beseeching his rescue
and once the flutter in my heart has passed
I become able to regain some part of my humanity
against the backdrop of what seems unbelievable
we
are
here
what seemed like an eternity of silence is broken
as we exchange pleasantries

“what took you so long?”

“there was traffic”

It is in that moment I become
lost
seemingly enchanted with fear
his eyes see my detriment
take note
of my confidence’s absence
he steps into my world for a moment
our embrace sighs in relief

“damn I’ve missed you”

“how do we pick up from here?”

“i
don’t
know”

we speak without words
time plays out like a movie
all lights
all cameras
all actions
void of depth; the surface is too hot to touch
we fear scars left
pain is easy it can be worked through but scars are forever
constant reminders of promises un-kept
so
dare not
touch

Saturday beckons our lethargy
safety is found
resting in the arms of my beloved
it plays on repeat
my favorite ballad, the slow rhythmic sounds of his breathing
soothes all worries
never leave
shall
he?
I close my eyes confidently
as we sleep. . .

Inspiration came tippin in at 2:40am
Whispering in husk voice

“wake up”

nudging me gently

“wake up”

I must ignore him
He who steals my slumber for words
That do nothing but lay in atrophy across Ms Office document pages
Words that may never be read or spoken
Words that will probably die with me
Ignore him
I must

“wake up”

I feel him all over me
Even in my sleep my body responds
Naturally
We tussle with languages and melodies
Dare each other to disagree
We wrestle with taboo topics
What’s considered PC
We
phuck for fun
and
write for life

This
is our nightly ritual

“wake up”

but I have to work tomorrow

“wake up”

I have a headache?

“wake up”

well maybe just for ten minutes but then I have to…

“wake up – its time to write”

inspiration came tippin’ in at 2:40am
glad that I
finally
gave him the key