Pain Change

my pain‘s real right now.

empty-faced.

absent soul.

beeping out for a connection. touré says move on to the next thing; im not feeling it.

trying to make moves but moves ain’t making me.

this blackness is bleak.

im shifting in multiple directions with hesitation marks all over the planet.

all is looking toward the big d; but, I don’t wanna go there.

my desire is to lie comfy in my bed until the wind changes.

yes, it always changes, rabbit !

didn’t you know?

nothing’s permanent.

not even you…

artist: David Choe

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Sucker Punched

Why are the young so happy?

Full of optimism
Full of glee

Nothing’s too big for their imagination

Anything’s possible

Then LIFE strikes…

One stumble: “Oh I’m good. Just a slight misstep. I got this.”

One stumble turns into years of pileup.

Your light dims.

Sucker-punch after sucker-punch.

Bitterness & apathy are no longer weekend guests; they’ve become unwanted tenants.

Folks start peddling you all kinds of sworn tested & true remedies in the name of “help you feel better”.

Thing is, they only work for so long before you just shrivel up and die while still wide awake…

C3F5616F-39E6-497B-9C6F-6B43143BE9D4
Max Ginsburg, Artists 

Bless Our Hearts

Artist: Elizabeth Catlett

My heart feels kinda bad ‘cause my man done gone.

Wudin’ mine no mo’ anyhow, bless his heart.

He won’t even give me da time o’ day.

I feels pitiful ‘cause I wants to rekindle some thangs that used to be.

I thought the fire was out but sumpin’ done sparked.

Don’t mean I wants to really strike up no romance ‘cause too many years done gone by.

But my l’il self tried ta reach out, and, maybe my efforts was in vain.

I feels kinda foolish now—shoulda let him make a move.

Aw, but he didn’t.

So, my l’il fast tail couldn’t wait.

Now, I’s just gone have ta put this here woe aside ‘cause it’s so unbecoming.

©2012 Nesi Writes

 

Lethargic Nothingness

Carly Hardy, Birds of Prey

Boredom takes a seat pouring a slow molasses like lethargy over my being.

I feel imprisoned in this nothingness—nothing motivates or stirs me.

Yes, I know the masses stand with their little list perched as sheet music ready to sing their operatic song of what I should or could do to escape boredom‘s hold.

Sing on if you must.

My ears hear you—my mind won’t listen.

Enfolded in the lull of boredom’s cradle, nothing penetrates this trap.

I wait it out until the next day.

Upon rising, I’m as good as new with a million and one things to do.

However, right now—this moment—I’m boredom’s prey.

©2012 Nesi Writes

Mister High Maintenance

Karen Joy Picketts, Portrait of Oscar Wilde
Art: Karen Joy Picketts, Portrait of Oscar Wilde

When I think of high maintenance, I envision a woman. Recently, my perception of high maintenance turned to men.

Some men emit signals requiring women to go beyond their real identity just to be with them.

This message all too often is not verbalized to the woman.

The meta message thumps…“To be with me; you must…”

Analyzing this pulsating thump and how it dictates some relationships, I’ve concluded: being you instead of some fabricated humanoid is best.

Like and enjoy yourself—quirks goodness and all.

I encourage a fast to sacrifice “do this, and maybe I will give you some attention.”

Mister, there’s a High Maintenance Woman already seasoned to accommodate your high maintenance self; so step to her.

Ladies, know there are men in your league who do not need cultivating—they are awaiting you.

Let’s keep it honest and real, High Maintenance Man, we are vastly different in our desires and needs.

Au revoir…

©2012 Nesi Writes

Writer Man

Art: Oliver Ray, Man Writing

What are you doing, thinking, being, freeing?

Like a see-saw or whirling twirling swirling but never unnerving

I do dig you like an ole school record

‘Cause, Baby, I love your ways

You are re-quieting enticing spicing like the House of Atredis, my Lord

You are worthy I’m glad you know that

Float on, soar, and carry on your Highness

Beauty is her name—so accommodating, ego stroking spirit of yours elating

I don’t know if I trust her, but, if you do, if that pleases you, go on through to do you ‘cause she is pursuing you though you already knew

We all need our Strokerz for they give us that flesh zinger that twinge and fix we need

I guess the rest of us have to sort through our own mess as we see your groupies serenade you, throw their word panties at you

It sickens me when some floozy tries to woo you with her honey dipped words rolling off her lips

The pretty ones make us wince because we don’t believe in our own beauty (have mercy) see our own worth our own value if we did we would not be jealous it’s true

Pure jealousy haunts me when I see you flirting with those Prancers and Posers because I can’t have you

Now, I see that I want to own you, control you, make you the property that I so loathe being for anyone else…

©2012 Nesi Writes

 

Nuptial Lessons

Freedom Art

Reflecting upon that insidious institution called marriage; I realize I was not as I presented myself to the world during my nuptial. Since my authentic self hid, I divorced—moving forward, allowing myself to emerge.

With intent, I declined the bitterness invitation, but she continuously lurked at my door. Today, I consciously choose who I want to be—a woman void of bitterness. Strict orders in the book of law prevent bitterness from trespassing near my heart.

Each day, I try on my adventures like clothes—tossing some and adding others to my hope chest.

Amidst coupling, marriage, and otherwise, I realize that when the energy of two people collides, a dynamic specific to that union occurs. Universal laws exist; preventing a previous union’s replication from ever occurring again.  Each union is its own one-of-a-kind silo. Oh, what exciting news!

So, release your fear and anxiety that your next union will be as the previous—never gonna happen. Is that not wonderful?

I look forward to experiencing my multi-faceted wonderful self within all my everyday encounters. Wish me well as I send reciprocal love back to you…

©2012 Nesi Writes