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Justify

Why do I justify myself to others if I’m not working in a full paid life capacity?

It’s not like we’re still living in a Victorian era where I need to prove I’ve achieved my full belt in chastity.

I’m not kept nor groomed.

I’m a woman of the age of independence. When I hold my breathe I think of the oceans of ambition, fills me to a combustion ends- infallibility.

Self justification.

Words to sell the people who haven’t walked a second in my shoes.

Self justification who’ve never seen a man who sold ice creams on a beach with his bare arms.

No feet.

No feat.

He wouldn’t allow the cha cha dance of life let him be the one who gave in to defeat.

Even when the sun, it melted into his ebony skin-a parched man not bitter .

Even when children mocked him with no adult to inform them they were creating a culture where we judge people by being born in breach.

These words are going nowhere unless, I tell people I’m a winner regardless of the mind state – an alternative view they may one day wish to seek.

Their unbeknownst ignorance of those mountains I’ve so far climbed to be deemed fit in a society increasingly lacking in human empathy just to stay in view

To remain an arm within terre ferme reach

These are my words. This is what I wish to impart. I refuse to give up until my soul recoils from my body,

Honours it’s vow –til death do us part.

If you taunt me I’ve learned

Not to teach nor preach.

Life’s a beach.

I’m a woman of the world with nothing but reach.

Does this sound preachy ? 😉😅🤣🙄.

Words are.

BEHIND THE MASK EXIBITION- my experience

I suppose I, as a writer  can be ignorant and forget how empowering and therapeutic being able to write is and how  creative it  is. This is is something that every woman should be able to access. I saw the results of the works of creativity in every face at ‘Behind the mask’ exhibition this today.

 

The exhibition was led by a passionate presentation by the  highly charismatic Sharon Marsden from verd de gris

I spent most of my time in tears. All masks shed to connect with British white and British Muslim woman through the medium of   poetry, their personal words and singing.  Yes, what a strange bonding power it is to want to join in and sing with strangers.

All connected by our desire to be unburdened, it released even me from my cage. Today, I flew high and found my voice intermingled amongst a collective . I didn’t need to say a word. Someone already had and I identified completely.  I had a taste of the 12-week journey these highly courageous women have been through. It reminds me of my own journey in life as a woman. I’m not alone. We are not alone. As painful as some of these emotions were to witness and experience the exhibition left on a high – I was carried away with a powerful gust of optimism and newfound courage to carry on in my own journey in life.

All faiths, all ages, all complex woman with the desire to be free from pain and to be free to show their real face and not wait for the words of acceptance .  The message I took away is this:

This is me! take me or leave. I will not hide behind any more masks for you or anyone.

Here is my crane symbol to remind me that I too can be that bird that ‘flies to the heavens’

The crane is a popular symbol in Asian culture, and the practice of folding paper cranes for good fortune, healing, happiness, and success was popularized by Sadako Sasaki, a young victim of the radiation from the Hiroshima disaster. Chains of paper cranes, often numbering a thousand in total, are given as offerings at temples and shrines. The crane is also perceived as a bird capable of flying to the very heavens, and is said to have borne spirits of the deceased there upon its back. In ancient China, the crane was used as the symbol of highest-ranking officials.
Read more at http://www.beliefnet.com/Wellness/Environment/Galleries/A-Spiritual-Field-Guide-to-Birds.aspx?p=6#JvmBs22BfFs8PL8B.99

 

 

 

Caged Bird Excerpt

BY MAYA ANGELOU

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.

 

Female empowerment is continuing well into 2016.    NEW RECRUITS NEEDED FOR THE NEXT BEHIND THE MASK COMING SOON!

 

I have also been moved to boldly upload my first video blog. What better inspiration than to speak with female empowerment.  Seven minutes long but no apologies for what comes from the heart.

 

 

 

 

GOAT pancake pie erm…

Pancakes share a growling affair
To boost the morale of the monster with
jowls

Still

hibernating
inside a despairing mind of an almost self redundant writer

groans unable to fit into an unremarkable, once favoured racy red garter.

This poem is quite silly
I could throw a goat in here and call him
Kill Billy…

Because he had a penchant for consuming plenty pancakes with half fat cream cheese

Sell them on the hillside,
he did.

Not far from
ole blighty

With a spring in his hooves,
a dapper smile,
a shimmy in his groove.

Singing through a mouthful of home made shove

This isn’t a poem!
These are words to be damned to the books of ,’oh, Crikey’!

Neighbour hoodie (nee) gentrify watch

TRUE WORDS:

There are no rainbows without rain.

RISE ABOVE THE SMALL MENTALITY.

These folk have not experienced my darkest hours nor walked in my shoes.
Jealousy is a heinous crime to a person’s soul because it doesn’t take into account what the other person has and has yet to go through in life.

RISE ABOVE THE HATE of those who will never know & if they do hear a whisper of truth have no clue.

Judgements have no place in my world for those who don’t have a clue.
They tried to hit me where it could have hurt not me but my family
Gentrify their neighbourhood watch
cos I fly without further a due
Confuciasism
Tashism
I am not who/what they think I am ..
Oh, wait.. they made my case to succeed stronger.
THANK YOU, to my foes
You have made my goal closer.
I see that now.
Energy dispersed
I find it replenished
Resurrected
I am not down
I rise
I rise

THANK YOU for fueling my desire to start afresh better now than when I thought I was due
to give life to a new beginning.

these are my words. Simple words yet… meaningful to the author.
ME,

Who knew.