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Showing posts from November, 2010

Death Becomes Her: HIV/AIDS

  What is this ad about? Kim Kardashian? Death? Designer dresses? Coffin Sale? This ad is suppose to make you think and care about HIV/AIDS . You are suppose to care that you will not be able to tweet or have facebook contact with your favorite celebrity. #FAIL HIV/AIDS is too important put more emphasis on a celebrity than the issue itself. To use DEATH in this manner is misguided. World AIDS Day is December 1, 2010 Visit http://www.aids.gov for an event and testing site near you.

Amel Larrieux- Weary

I AM this SONG This woman is growing weary Of having to be so strong Of having to pretend I’m made of stone So I won’t end up with no broken bones I can’t fight every battle alone I want someone to lift me Heal my wounds and give me kisses on my head Say words that should be said Fear is not the matter I would so much rather open up my heart And lay down my guard Chorus: If I could trust someone To have my back and never do me wrong Then I would give my love up Just like that stop singing this soldier song (repeat) whomever said love was overrated must not be getting’ none my independent days have had their fun but when the parties over and the workin’ day is done I just want to come home to someone I want a love to take me As I am not make me compromise myself Or be like no one else Fear is not the matter I would so much rather open up my heart And just lay down my guard

The Morning After

After my blog the other day, I received lots of love and even sadness which I didn't expect.  I really don't know what reaction I expected because I did it for me.  What I've realized is that honesty and transparency is scary for some. I'm not bothered about what you know about me. I'm bothered by what I don't know about myself.  Its all a spiritual thing.  Its a God thing. Its a Universe thing.  I listen. I respond. I'm obedient.  I do what I hear and I was told to purge via the blog, to release.  Sometimes the effects are unexpected and even negative but its about being obedient to my spirit. I greatly appreciate those who reached out to me with kind words and who were full of understanding. Thank you.  This is just the first days to a life of happiness and fulfillment but I have to wash away the muck. I'm seeking the freedom of my soul.  I meant every word and its liberating.  My journey is for my purpose and its all good. I understand God.  I'v

Who am I: Looking for my own rainbow......

This morning, I woke up thinking. I had mad thoughts racing through my mind about "Who is Rhonda?"  Its a question I continue to ask.  Fo r C ol or ed Gi rl s still fresh on my mind as I've examined my confusion of who I've become. I don't really know. I don't know who this person is that I carry around daily. I remember someone else, happier, more pleased with her smile, her style, her flow, her focus.  Today, I miss her. I wear an outer shell of this confusion, my body.  I can teach the world to eat, move, love and those steps are being lost on my own journey, my own poetry. This outer shell tells the story.  It tells the story of being kicked, smacked. It tells the story of being called dumb and told my dreams are foolish. It tells a story of longing for closeness from a father that doesn't know how to be close. It tells the story of repeated death and loss.  It tells the story of mistrust and dishonesty.   I'm wearing this outer shell of hurt an

For Colored Girls: Seeing Red

After being very vocal about being Tyler Perry a less than favorite choice to direct an adaption of Ntozake Shange's "For Colored Girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf" or better known now as "For Colored Girls", I watched the movie feeling empty. I've seen myself in the colors of orange and green . I've empathized with the browns in my life. I know yellow and I know blue. Then there is RED . I could spend time examining the issues I had with the movie. I could also celebrate the power of dynamic words used to express OUR stories of various hues, depths, and struggles. The color red, Janet Jackson's character, disturbed me. This development of this character reeks of Perry's own personal agenda. He wanted to talk about the down low situation. He wanted to bring in HIV and so he did.  In spite of Janet's less than wonderful acting abilities, I was interested in how her story would play itself out. I heard about her. Th
deep rooted manic insanity ensues grasping at doses of normalcy Walking through my past on the other side of it all lost drawn aching Yet feeling all things will come to peaceful resolve Looking to the heavens as a dove lays wait again on my windowsill seeing hope through the clouds seeing new things in the rain Knowing that the right answer will come from above Let my spirit be guided through the insanity Laying wait until it all comes to pass when the Divine answers the pending question embrace the truth pushing sadness aside no matter how much its taken over Hope is the light of all things Love covers all being the filthy rag I've become love and hope wins. Read more: http://www.myspace.com/clevacleva/blog?page=4#ixzz14Gx5sVlA
Would it be so arrogant to say that I am Perfection? that's not to say that I am perfect But I am as the Milky Way the sun, the moon, the shooting star I am the open sky the steaming rain, the tornado and the chilled winters day I am Perfection beautified, flowing and real smarts matched with seductive wiles libidinal energies touching your soul I know how to move you with simple words and parted lips I make you want me I am Perfection independently I stand for more than going green and the new social trends Motherhood singularly I stand still fighting for and believing in Fatherhood Fists and fros and nappy hair dark skinned blackness Revolution is in my soul I am purposed I am Perfection Read more: http://www.myspace.com/clevacleva/blog?page=2#ixzz14Gpz2VEy
Would it be so arrogant to say that I am Perfection? that's not to say that I am perfect But I am as the Milky Way the sun, the moon, the shooting star I am the open sky the steaming rain, the tornado and the chilled winters day I am Perfection beautified, flowing and real smarts matched with seductive wiles libidinal energies touching your soul I know how to move you with simple words and parted lips I make you want me I am Perfection independently I stand for more than going green and the new social trends Motherhood singularly I stand still fighting for and believing in Fatherhood Fists and fros and nappy hair dark skinned blackness Revolution is in my soul I am purposed I am Perfection Read more: http://www.myspace.com/clevacleva/blog?page=2#ixzz14Gpz2VEy

Sound

Wrestling with the emotions of streaming thoughts as the sea moans with displeasure of the winds the twisted mindset moves away from sweet words dripping from lying lips Walking towards light as I awaken from a slumber of loneliness confused by my solitude something embraced as needed but quiet moments reminders of emptiness Can I arise beautiful? Moving forth in perfection knowing my past is no more than a stepping stones to strength let me be no more confused sound Read more: http://www.myspace.com/clevacleva/blog?page=2#ixzz14GpGr2FT
Thinking about the sands of time you know Days of our Lives soap opera type of stuff on that drama type of thing daily watching the "stories" twists and turns lies and manipulations never being your fault but wait its just like sands through the hour glass One life to live madness funny the names the give these shows as empty as a broken promise again and again why do we lose our minds in nonsense The guiding light because it would take a soap opera for me to believe the bullshit again. Read more: http://www.myspace.com/clevacleva/blog#ixzz14GnoA6De
Never afraid to love its just the possibility of being loved back its where the fear sets in how will you love me open fists or a gentle kiss

Green eYEs

Black Girl Blues

If I could play an instrument and write a tune, I would pull from the ancestors: my grandmothers twisted fists, my mothers tears of self hatred, my aunts'  heartbreak of lost loves, blackened eyes, cries....loud cries of birthing the next breed of little black girls.  This tune would be called, "Black Girl Blues". I'm sure you have your own song, your own little diddy to write. If you're a black girl, you have a song that's familiar to every other black girl. Our song starts off with hope. All we know is, we are here and we are to be loved and  to be kissed by the Sun. We want to dance to the vibrations of our hearts and souls. We are little goddesses. We are here...... This knowing, this birthright....changes. Our tune.....changes.  Our natural sassy ways are sexualized. We are told we are being "fast" when we are just being girls. We are just mimicking our mommas, aunts, and Big mommas too. We want to be like them. We watch them. We say, "