Literary Works by: Blanche Williams

Let's Get M.A.D (written April 23, 2013)

2014-01-13T05:24:00.001-08:00

Verse 1

I woke up today

So determined to make a change

I'm no longer afraid

Being this brave feels kind of strange

I'm courageous and bold

I'm not indifferent or cold

So come now and take my hand

United we can take a stand!

Chorus

'Cause I'll fight for you and with you

Because love is stronger than this

I'll stand beside you and guide you

Together we can conquer this

Get M.A.D. with me

And stand with me

Let's be the change we want to see

So let's get M.A.D

Make a difference

It's possible when "I" turns into "We"

Oh yeah

Come get M.A.D with me

Verse 2

Don't turn down the other street

When your fellow man asks you for food to eat

Don't you look the other way

When a child has nowhere safe to stay

We need to walk in someone's else's shoes

So we can feel what they're going through

There's so much more that we can do

There's strength in numbers

What say you?

Chorus

Oh yeah

Come Get M.A.D. With me

Bridge

They say if you don't stand for something

You'll fall for anything

Now is the time to do something

Let's stand united and sing

The Chase (written May 2, 2013)

2014-01-13T05:14:00.001-08:00

Rap:

You can't front on my swag
The shoes matchin the bag
You're tryin to come on strong
But be patient it won't be long
Frustration's setting in
You need some oxygen
But I appreciate your grind
Just let me blow your mind

Verse 1:
I stepped into the club
Swervin with my crew
We walked up to the bar
That's when I saw you
You came on real strong
And tried to whisper in my ear
But boy chill cause I'm not tryin to fall in love in here
Tonight I feel good and I look even better
It didn't even take me long to get myself together
I worked hard all week so I deserve a little break
So don't try to kill my vibe
That would be a mistake
And I can see it written all over your face
Boy I know you want me
But if you want me
You gotta keep up with my pace
Because it won't be easy

Chorus:
Tonight you're gonna learn
That nothing good in this life comes easy
And I'm gonna make you work
You gotta earn your right to come and please me
Cause I'm not the kind of girl
That gives in to a man
On the very first night
Your persistence will pay off in the end
It ain't about winnin the race
It's the chase

And I'll be honest boy
I kinda like seein you sweat
You gotta come harder with your game
Cause I'm not ready to go home with you yet

Verse 2:
My clique hit the floor
And all eyes on us
There's nothin in this club more important than us
And I can tell that you want to get me outta here
So you said, "hey baby, let's go disappear."
The chemistry is so crazy between us
But I'm not the type of girl that likes to rush
If you get to know me
I'll make it worth your wait
So baby just be patient and don't hesitate
Just remember it's not about you
It's all about me
And if I were you, I'd ride this out
You'd be a damn fool to leave without me

Chorus (repeat once)

Rap:
You want me to give in
But I want to see you win
We're on the same team
So let the games begin
We have the same goal
Call it the same objective
If you want to get me alone
Just take heed to my directive

Chorus (repeat once)

(Ad lib until track is finished)

Please view my video! Pretty please!

2011-07-27T19:33:00.001-07:00

Please take a moment to look at my video for the 104.7 The Fish Opening Act contest for Celebrate Freedom. The contest is partially judged on how many views my video receives. Thank you and God bless! :-) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvMk_QUQ_Pk&feature=youtube_gdata_player

My poem entitled: I AM

2011-06-08T16:50:00.000-07:00

I was the product of a failed marriage

I was the result of poor decision making

I was the girl many people gave up on

I was always popular but never accepted

I was admired and envied but not truly loved

I was a wreck emotionally and spiritually

I was almost a statistic because of poor self image

That was me.

I simply WAS.

But now...

I am the epitome of elegance

I am the embodiment of success

I am the result of hard-work and perseverance

I am the lone star shining bright in a sky filled with darkness

I am hope wrapped in bronzed colored silk

I am intelligent, tenacious, and ambitious

I am an imperfect blend of perfect qualities

I am NOT a cautionary tale

I am NOT a statistic

I simply AM.

What Am I? An Essay of Personal Reflection

2011-06-03T15:49:00.000-07:00

I have often been asked "What are you?" I normally answer, "A human being, just like you." Many people who have asked me that question are usually curious about my nationality or ethnicity. I usually leave their question unanswered,void, and bottomless. The biggest reason for that is because of the way I feel about that question. Honestly, how stupid is that question? What am I? However, in a more solitary space, I have asked myself that same question."What am I?" I have definitely given this question a lot of thought. This is my answer to myself:

I am handcrafted by God himself. From birth, He created me and even before then. I am His daughter. I am also the daughter of my earthly parents whom He gave me. I am a wife to a husband who God set aside just for me. I am a mother to children God blessed me to have. When He presented them, they each came in their own pretty packages, adorned in golden ribbons just like a gift on Christmas. I love them so much, they are my world.

But I digress...

I was supposed to answer the question,"What am I?" I could not possibly answer that question without first acknowledging the beings that gave my life fulfillment and meaning. My devoted, highly educated, well respected, non compromising father and my loving, caring, and wise mother. From these two sprang forth me. Little did I know what life would be about. Ill-prepared for life's journey, I packed light. In every year of my life, I accumulated souvenirs to add to my baggage: heartbreaks, fears, disappointments,achievements, failures, successes, wins,losses, deaths, births, oppression, and FREEDOM.

So, what am I? I guess I cannot fully answer that question because I am constantly changing. God's work is not yet complete. It will take my entire lifetime for me to answer this question. I will spend my entire life seeking the answer. As I journey through this life, God remains my Light, my Safety, and my Hope.

What am I?
To be continued...

The Fallacy of Proportion: A Close Reading of the novel Mrs. Dalloway

2010-11-10T20:42:00.000-08:00

To declare that the medical world did not have an astute understanding of mental illnesses during the early twentieth century would be an understatement. Mental illness was often ignored or treated improperly. Prescription drugs were not as advanced as they are now and the drugs that were prescribed for mental illness were usually sedatives to help one rest. In fact, rest was the solution given to many mental illness patients. The idea that resonated in the medical community was that rest was the factor that was missing in the lives of those who suffered from mental illness. The “rest cure” was when someone would be coerced out of their home away from the their loved ones and sent off to a deserted building set aside for rest cure patients in a secluded countryside away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Receiving ample secluded, isolated rest was viewed in the novel Mrs. Dalloway as having a sense of proportion. Proportion or balance in one's life would bring about peace and contentment. The great medical minds of the day decided that those with mental illness would benefit from isolation. Physicians thought and believed with great conviction that the lack of stimulation would promote tranquility of mind and eliminate stress. Unfortunately, all the rest cure did was exacerbate the situation.

In Mrs. Dalloway, Septimus Warren Smith suffered from a mental illness that the late twentieth century identified as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. However, in the early twentieth century, PTSD was merely shrugged off as shell shock or “moments of depression” as Dr. Sir William Bradshaw described. (97) Septimus suffered from PTSD because he served in World War I and fought on the side of the British. As a young man, he was an educated free thinker. He was self educated due to his poor socioeconomic status but was well read and infatuated with literature and art. He volunteered to fight for England and survived the war. However, his good friend Evans did not survive and because of that, guilt taunted Septimus daily. Flashbacks of the war plagued the mind of Septimus so severely that he would have unexpected outbursts and threaten to kill himself on more than one occasion. Dr. Holmes, Septimus's first doctor, did not appreciate the severity of Septimus's mental state. He simply wrote it off as Septimus being restless or having a bout with anxiety.

Dr. Holmes examined him. There was nothing whatever the matter, said Dr. Holmes...Why not try two tabloids of bromide dissolved in a glass of water at bedtime? (90)

Instead of trying to empathize and understand the plight of Septimus, Dr. Holmes prescribed a sedative to force rest upon him.

Dismissing Septimus's mental illness as mere restlessness was not even the worst crime that Dr. Holmes committed against him. Dr. Holmes also spoke to Septimus in a condescending way. He even audaciously spoke of Septimus's mental state as him being “in a funk” (92). Dr. Holmes was arrogant and certain in his misdiagnosis. He held on to his “forty years' experience...and Septimus could take Holmes's word for it.” (92). There were other instances of Dr. Holmes's patronizing demeanor towards Septimus. Another time was when Septimus was having a flashback and began to shout outbursts. When Dr. Holmes arrived in the room, he shrugged off the the outburst by trivializing them.

“Now what's all this about?” said Dr. Holmes in the most amiable way in the world. “Talking nonsense to frighten your wife?” But he would give him something to make him sleep. (93)

The condescension occurred not only because Septimus was ill but also because he was poor. As a soldier, he was thrown back into society in the lower class of imperialist England. Dr. Holmes and Sir William Bradshaw were wealthy physicians. Both were of the upper class. However, even within the upper class were areas of discord. Sir William Bradshaw even spoke of Dr. Holmes in a condescending manner.

Ah yes (those general practitioners! thought Sir William. It took half his time to undo their blunders. Some were irreparable). (95)

Mrs. Dalloway showed that a class struggle was prevalent during the early twentieth century in England. The small percentage of the population who were the elite were in charge of the larger percentage of the population who were the middle and lower classes of the English socioeconomic class system. Dr. Holmes and Sir William Bradshaw were a part of that elite group and Septimus and his wife Lucrezia were members of the larger group, the ailing lower class.

There were many references to oppression and authoritative control in the novel. The most poignant observations came from the thoughts of Septimus.

Once you fall, Septimus repeated to himself, human nature is on you. Holmes and Bradshaw are on you. (98)

Although Septimus was ill with PTSD, he was still able to form lucid thoughts. One thing he would refuse was the confinement to a home, especially a home ran by Dr. Holmes or Sir William Bradshaw. He did not want to undergo mental and physical subjugation. The thought of being imprisoned in a home under the strict orders of doctors who were cruel to him terrified and angered Septimus. Septimus was not about to acquiesce. Therefore, he did the one act that he could perform that would rebel against them. His suicide was larger than he. It was an act of resistance to a dictating authority, similar to the struggle of oppressed peoples. Septimus represented the other, the oppressed minority fighting against the powers that be, the elite, the colonizers, the conformers, the converters. The doctors represented the manipulative conquering body that sought to conform all nonbelievers to their way of life and trade in their illnessness, their sorrows, their poor socioeconomic conditions for proportion.

To prescribe isolation to one suffering from mental illness is similar to giving a suicidal man a rope. Many who suffer from mental illness simply want someone to empathize with them, give them a chance to speak freely and candidly about their inner turmoil. The high society elitists were ignorant of these needs and many lives were lost both literally and figuratively. The character of Septimus Warren Smith served as a representation of the traumatized soldier and Drs. Holmes and Bradshaw represented the cruel upper class society who simply wanted to marginalize and ostracize those who suffered even more. Having balance in life does appear right and just, but what balance consists of might vary greatly from person to person. It is accurate to surmise that life's tests can bring about strife, turmoil, heartbreak and anxiety. Although the activities of life might sometimes perpetuate stress, at other times those very things can cause contentment, self appreciation and self awareness.

Works Cited:

Woolf, Virginia Mrs. Dalloway United States:Harcourt, 1925 pages 90-102

Life Goes On: A Close Reading on an Excerpt of The Hours by: Michael Cunningham

2010-11-10T16:34:00.001-08:00

Life Goes On: A Close Reading on an Excerpt of The Hours by: Michael Cunningham

The Hours was an amazingly well written novel set in three different decades of the twentieth century: the 1920’s, the 1950’s, and the 1980’s. The novel tells the story of three very different women with similar inner turmoil. The women, Virginia Woolf, Laura Brown, and Clarissa Vaughn, undergo a mental and emotional identity crisis that makes each of them feel a loss of control of their own lives. The novel’s main theme is that life is an overwhelming reality, filled with hours that are dark and unbearable and in order to survive those hours, one must hold on tight to the hours that are happy, satisfying, delicious, or just bearable. If one does not accomplish this, one will feel isolated, alone, suffocated, and dead internally. This theme is portrayed effectively in the excerpt I have chosen to write about. The excerpt I chose was from the top of page 196 to the top of 200. The excerpt is the dialogue exchange between Clarissa and Richard before he commits suicide.

The tension is pronounced in the first paragraph of this section, particularly in the description of Richard. He is described as both “insane and exalted, both ancient and childish…like some scarecrow equestrian, a park statue by Giacometti.” (196) Opposition is clearly at work early in this passage. Richard appears to have gone crazy, yet he looks exalted, as if regal. He looks as if he is old yet acting in a childlike manner. In the same paragraph it goes on to speak on his appearance: his hair “plastered to his scalp in some places, jutting out a sharp, rakish angles in others” (196) and his leg is described as “blue-white” and “skeletal.” (196)There is also tension between the two characters, Clarissa and Richard. Richard feels high both literally and figuratively, and exhilarated, and Clarissa feels low, terrified, yet not hysterical.

The word choices in this section are fantastic. The description of Richard in his hallucinated state and ragged, infirm body, paints a colorful picture. However, the description of Clarissa gives an oppositional account. Instead of Clarissa being deranged and high, she is unusually calm, as if “removed from herself, from the room, as if witnessing something that’s already happened.” (197)This particular description of Clarissa is a recurring theme in the entire novel. All three women, at one moment or another, feel like they are removed from their reality. They feel as if they are just going through life without any control, like being swept away by a current.

Richard also feels like he has lost control of his life. He feels that he is going through the motions of life. The AIDS that is killing him is making him endure what he calls “the hours.” After he tells Clarissa that he does not think he can make it to the party and Clarissa tells him he does not have to go or do anything at all, he responds by saying:

“But there are still the hours, aren’t there? One and then another, and you get through that one and then, my god, there’s another. I’m so sick.” (198)

For Richard, life has become excruciating, especially physically and emotionally.

The text does a wonderful job detailing Richard’s physical pain and anguish. However, on page 199, his emotional and mental anxiety is illuminated. He speaks of failing, another recurring theme in the novel. All three characters feel that they have failed at their life’s calling. When Clarissa tries to assure him that he has not failed, he does not endorse it. He reveals in the last paragraph on page 199 the following inner turmoil:

“What I wanted to do seemed simple. I wanted to create something alive and shocking enough that it could stand beside a morning in somebody’s life…What foolishness.” (199)

After a few more sentences of dialogue, Richard tells Clarissa he loves her then he makes that fateful jump out of the window.

This excerpt from The Hours undoubtedly supports the themes that resonate so profoundly in the entire novel. Life, although unbearable and painful at times, goes on even after we die. The fact is, life does not stop for anyone else or for anything else, just for the person who has died. The feeling of failure and loss of control can be so overwhelming at times, that for some, it is easier or less painful to end one’s own life then to live their life on someone else’s terms. The Hours really conveys the message that one should embrace life and all its loveliness and all its darkness and appreciate the oppositional contradiction that is life. The hours can be a constant reminder of the inevitable end or a warm reminder of new memories that await us in this life.

Works Cited:

Cunningham, Michael The Hours New York: Picador, 1998

Religion: An Oppressor or Liberator? A Marxist analytical approach to the short story, “Sweat”

2010-10-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

The short story “Sweat” was written and set during post-slavery 1920s. Historically, the 1920s were a turbulent and troublesome time for African Americans living in the United States. Although blacks were no longer slaves, they still had oppressive holds upon them, especially social and economic oppression. The socioeconomic status of blacks was anything but ideal: lower class, poor, uneducated, segregated, marginalized, disenfranchised, and mistreated. The average black person made a living by working for an affluent white family and receiving very little pay. In most cases, the money received was barely enough to purchase food. Because of this harsh reality, many blacks turned to religion to cope with their gruesome and oftentimes, unbearable existence. The main character, Delia, uses religion to cope with her harsh socioeconomic conditions as well as her unhealthy, abusive, and tumultuous marriage to her husband Sykes.

Although Marxist theory normally bashes organized religion by calling it the “opiate of the masses”, in this story, religion is seen as both the oppressor and the liberator. Christianity was used during colonization as justification by white Europeans to enslave, control and abuse African slaves, poor whites, and Native Americans as well as other minorities. White owners converted many of their slaves to Christianity in order to assimilate them to the normal European social and religious order. Many slaves began to abandon their own cultural traditions and take on the European Christianity in order to deal with being abused and overworked by their white owners, their oppressor. Similarly, Delia uses religion to deal with her oppressors, the white family that employs her yet pays her very little, and more importantly, her negligent and destructive husband Sykes, who is her ultimate oppressor. This fact is evident in the following text:

“Oh well, whatever goes over the Devil’s back, is got to come under his belly. Sometime or ruther, Sykes, like everybody else, is gointer reap his sowing.” After that she was able to build a spiritual earthworks against her husband. His shells could no longer hurt her. Amen.” (76)

Because of her faith, she felt at peace with the fact that Sykes mistreatment of her would not go unpunished so she decided to allow his inconsiderate words and actions to continue because she was no longer going to be bothered by it. She had “a triumphant indifference to all that he was or did.” (76)

Delia used her religion as a coping mechanism in many instances, including when Sykes ridiculed her for sorting the white family’s laundry on the Sabbath. She did not want to bicker with him because she “just come from taking sacrament at the church house.” (74) In this instance, Delia used the sacrament to justify her nonchalance versus Sykes incessant derision. Another instance was when she hitched her horse and drove to Woodbridge, the church she transferred her membership to so she did not have to take sacrament with Sykes anymore. Prior to that, she had an argument with Sykes, which would be her last. She expressed her hatred for him and threatened to tell the “white folks” next time he abused her. With her emotions in a whirlwind, she calmly sang a church hymn to ease her mind and free her from any hurt or pain:

Jurden water, black an’ col’, chills de body, not de soul, An’ Ah wantah cross Jurden in uh calm time. (82)

After singing that song, she felt relieved once again and also comforted that even though her marriage was dissolving before her very eyes, that God would give her peace.

The ultimate liberation came when she confronted the snake. In most religions, especially Christianity, the snake has many symbolic meanings. The most obvious symbolism would be that of danger or evil. This is especially so for Delia because she is terrified of snakes. It is the one thing in the world that scares her deeply. She confessed her fear of the snake many times to Sykes asking him to either kill it or get rid of it because it was making her physically ill. “But you done kilt all mah insides bringin’ dat varmint heah.” (81) However, it is when she comes home from the church in Woodbridge that she reaches her highest level of liberation. When she realized the snake was not only still in her home, but in her bedroom, her most prized sanctuary, she has a real breakthrough. The first thing she does is scream in terror then she leaves the room and takes refuge in a hay barn. While she is there, she has an epiphany of sorts. She realized while lying in the hay barn that she must confront her fear, the snake, which for her meant confronting her fear of Sykes and his oppressive power over her while simultaneously embracing the power she had within all along.

Finally she grew quiet, and after that, coherent thought. With this, stalked through her a cold, bloody rage. Hours of this. A period of introspection, a space of retrospection, then a mixture of both. Out of this an awful calm. (83)

The snake was no longer her biggest fear, but her source of empowerment. The snake no longer represented fear or evil, but eye opening knowledge. Just like the serpent in the garden of Eden, the snake revealed to Delia her nakedness, or vulnerability. He made her aware of her oppression.

After her epiphany, she fell asleep, and was no longer affected by the fear that used to cripple her. Since she was no longer afraid of the snake, she was able to draw from it an inner strength. When Sykes is bitten by the snake, she takes on the characteristics of the snake: selfish indifference. She does not save Sykes because she knew that one day he would reap what he sowed and today was the fateful day. Just like a snake poisons his victim then watches it die before it is devoured, so does Delia sting Sykes with her stare, almost mocking him:

. “She waited in the growing heat while inside she knew the cold river was creeping up and up to extinguish that eye which must know by now that she knew.” (85)

Conclusively, the use of religion by a person can be oppressive at times and liberating at times. During difficult times, religion can be used to numb someone from their punishing circumstances like a tranquilizer. In other instances, religion is essential to help the socioeconomically oppressed survive their state of being by believing in Heaven, or a place where justice and peace flow like a river. There were many Marxist theoretical concepts evidenced in “Sweat” that were not covered in this essay. However, through further literary interpretation utilizing a Marxist analytical lens, “Sweat” can be appreciated for what it is: a mirror image of the proletariat rising up against the domineering elite and taking charge of its own destiny; an ideal condition achieved in rare situations in reality but attainable in any and all circumstances in a flawless utopia guided by Marxist principles.

Works Cited:

Hurston, Zora Neale. “Sweat” Harper Perennial.

My song entitled: Make Better Decisions

2010-08-10T11:04:00.000-07:00

I wrote this song when I was fourteen years old. Aww, memories. I was inspired to write this song because of the song "That Thing" by Lauryn Hill. I wish she was still writing/singing/rapping. She was way ahead of her time. Enjoy!

Make Better Decisions

It doesn’t hurt that bad, that’s what they say

And from the experience I’ve had, it’s not that way

They just wanna hit, don’t you see?

Don’t settle for a little bit

There’s a lot more for you and me

Chorus

Make better decisions baby girl

Cause you’re in no position to bring a child in this world

You’ll bring division in your home
And you don’t wanna be left alone

Don’t sell your soul for sex it leads to Hell

Always plan your next step don’t plan to fail

Listen to what I say because it’s true

These little boys don’t care a thing about you

Chorus

My poem entitled: Reflection

2010-08-10T11:00:00.001-07:00

I wrote this poem when I was about six months pregnant with my firstborn son, Micah. Enjoy. I still love this poem dearly!

Reflection

I see my reflection in you

You’re so beautiful

My baby boy

You bring me so much joy

A baby!

Who would have thought that someone who was just figuring out how to become a woman is now having a baby?

Here you come without warning

Putting me through pleasure and pain

Making me eat everything in sight

And making me gain weight

So long to all of my futures plans

I guess now I have to share those plans with you

Of course, we can’t leave Daddy out, now can we?

Do you see him crying?
He said he wouldn’t cry

But look at you

You ARE beautiful

You’re a miracle, just like a ray of sunshine

I see my reflection in you

You’re so beautiful

My baby boy

You bring me so much joy

Tell me, what was it like talking to God?

Did you choose me to be your mommy?

Did God approve of me?

Well, whatever the case may be

You’re here now

And I’m so proud

We’re so proud

I see my reflection in you

You’re so beautiful

My baby boy

You bring me so much joy

My poem entitled: Welcome to my World

2010-08-10T10:59:00.001-07:00

This poem is a little flirtatious, confident, and even a little empowering.

Welcome to My World

In a world that’s constantly changing

Meet someone who is constant

I know what you’re thinking

What makes me special?

The way I talk

The way I dress

The way I carry myself

Perhaps, it is what I wear

Or how I do my hair

The truth is, I’m a step above anything you’ve ever experienced

Anything you’ve ever known

Any woman you’ve ever seen

Beauty, sensuality, compassion, sophistication

All of that is me

Combine deep brown eyes, full lips, intellect, and charm

Don’t you want me on your arm?

I’m not a dream or fantasy

This is not a façade or mirage

I am a part of the most elite group of women to walk this Earth

I am a woman who knows who she is: nobility

So bow down, boy

I may be tangible, but can you catch me?

My poem entitled: Take it Away

2010-08-10T10:57:00.003-07:00

Take it Away

Can you take it away?

All of this pain I feel inside

Please remove any emotion that interferes with Your peace in my life

Although I’ll never understand why pain is so necessary

But I know that I need to change my ways and carry

Everything to you in prayer

So I meet you half-way, will you be there?

Can you take it away?

I don’t care anymore what You need to do

Can I lift my burdens off my shoulders and lay them at Your feet?

I refuse to accept defeat

Dear Lord, please take all of this pain

Take it all away

Didn’t Jesus bear my pain?

Isn’t His loss of human life my gain?

Take it away

My song entitled: I'm Your Mommy Now

2010-08-10T10:57:00.001-07:00

I wrote this song when I was pregnant with Micah back in 2005. I still get teary eyed when I sing this one. Enjoy! :)

I’m Your Mommy Now

I don’t know what to do

But God has given me you

You have taken me by surprise

I can’t believe this is true

It’s a huge responsibility

And I don’t have it all together

But I’m giving you all of me

And we’ll figure this out together

I’m your mommy now

And we will make it somehow

Please, if you can hear my voice, I’m so sincere

I’m not going anywhere, I’ll always be here

I just want to apologize, sometimes me and Daddy fight

I’ll try my best not to cry so you don’t feel my pain inside

I promise Daddy and me will work this out

It will always be he and me and you

We might be poor in wealth but we’re rich in love

And we’ll do whatever we have to do for you

I wish we could have planned you

God knows you deserve a better me

But when you’re older you’ll understand

That it’s hard but I’m trying and he’s trying

We’re trying

I’m your mommy now

And we will make it somehow

Please, if you hear my voice, I’m so sincere

I’m not going anywhere, I’ll always be here

My song entitled: Enough

2010-08-10T10:56:00.001-07:00

Enough

What does she do that I don’t do?

Whatever it is is it enough?

Is it enough to throw away these years with me down the drain?

Young love, that’s what people would say

They said we wouldn’t make it past the first day

But now I’m thinking that it could’ve been true

I’m starting to suspect that I’m just not enough for you

What does she say, what does she do?

Tell me baby, is it enough?

And if so, just let me know, so I can go

Cause I’ve had enough

What does she say that I don’t say?

Tell me baby, is it enough?

Sneaking around and making up lies

Is it because you want to tell me good-bye?

If that’s the case, be on your way!

There are no hard feelings, I promise babe!

Do me this one thing: make her happy

Don’t you dare hurt her the way you hurt me

What does she say, what does she do?

Tell me baby, is it enough?

And if so, just let me know, so I can go

Cause I’ve had enough

My Untitled Limericks I, II, and III

2010-08-10T10:55:00.001-07:00

I had to write limericks as an assignment for a creative writing class I had in 2005. These are goofy and silly at best but enjoy them anyway! LOL :)

Limerick I

There was a young girl with a fro

Who wanted to be in a show

To New York she went

And met 50 Cent

And became his video ho

Limerick II

I knew a young man with a beard

Who looked kind of funny and weird

But I gave him a chance

For naughty romance

And it was as bad as I feared

Limerick III

I used to love coffee and tea

But now I know it’s not for me

Because I am mean

With too much caffeine

And it gives me a lot of acne!

My poem entitled: Lucky, Little Girl

2010-08-10T10:54:00.000-07:00

Lucky, Little Girl

Lucky you, little girl

You’re so blessed to be young

What I wouldn’t give to be you

So innocent and dumb

As I’m shooting this photo

Your face is ever glowing

I guess that’s the beauty

The beauty of not-knowing

Your mother and your father

Are in pain and need help

Isn’t innocence bliss?

You only think of yourself

Your parents don’t get along

They fight and they cry

But you’re not aware of it

You don’t care to know why

It hurts me to look at them

You’re the only happy child

Your brother and sister know the deal

As they plaster on phony smiles

So say cheese cutie pie

Share your innocence with the world

Enjoy your ignorance while you can

You lucky, little girl

My poem entitled: The Purse

2010-08-10T10:52:00.000-07:00

This poem is loosely based on a true life experience. Comment and enjoy!

The Purse

As I sit in silence and wait for the nurse

My legs stick together like two wet stamps

Tears fall down my eyes to make me feel worse

Why couldn’t I just carry a purse?

My mother used to carry a big brown one

It was filled with candy and gum and money

She could always make an awkward moment feel fun

Where is a girl’s mom when she needs one?

Everyone says that I’m a child already grown

But I still like Barney and Sesame Street

It’s not like I’m ready to live away from home

Though my body is making changes of its own

Couldn’t somebody, anybody warned me of this?

Of this red river streaming steadily down my thigh

Why isn’t my mom here to explain this?

Why must a girl even go through this?

The nurse finally arrives with my dad

Whose face appears to smile or laugh, I can’t tell

The nurse assures me that I shouldn’t feel bad

She wipes my tears and gives me this pink pad

I’m not even sure if I should feel hurt

After all growing up is just a part of life

My innocence this cloud called puberty did curse

Why couldn’t I just carry a purse?

My poem entitled: Deadbeat

2010-08-10T10:50:00.000-07:00

Warning: Mature Content
I wrote this poem for a creative writing class I had in 2005. This poem is fictional and not based on a real life experience. Comments welcomed and enjoy!

Dead Beat

Tell the children to stop crying and screaming

You’re not dying

You’re not even hurt

You’re only sobbing for show

Your questions pierce my pride like a knife

“Where have you been?” “Who is she?” “Why don’t you love me?”

And you wonder why I do these things to you

I don’t owe you a damn thing

And you judge me like you’re God

I beat you, like to you, cheat on you, and I drink all our money away

Yet you’re still here pestering me like some stray dog that I should have never fed

Your children are so annoying

I don’t love them, I barely love you

Their own father hates them, but he probably hated you more

As do I

What about my needs?

I’m still young and handsome

When other women smile at me, I hurt

Because I know deep down inside they know that I deserve better than you

But yet I’m stuck with you like some incurable disease

But you won’t ever leave me

I’m your medicine

You’re used to me

You must love the taste of your own blood in your mouth

Or is it that you love me more than you love yourself?

My poem entitled: Talk to Me

2010-08-10T10:48:00.000-07:00

Warning: This poem has mature content. I wrote this for a poetry class I was enrolled in 2005. Please enjoy and comment away!

Talk to Me

Do you notice me when I’m crying in my sleep?

Is it becoming too much to see?

I guess love is just a word that can be thrown in the air

Or maybe you just don’t care

I don’t understand why you’re being so hard to persuade

You’re cold as ice

Your love is changing

I feel like running away

When I see you, all I see is you hiding from me

Frustration sinking in and anger is steadily building up

You don’t want to know the things my heart and mind are telling me

I can’t wait to get you alone so I can sit you down

And tell you all the things on my heart

I don’t us to be apart

But separation is inevitable

Yes, even though the sex is incredible

Is isn’t enough

I need love

I need YOUR love

Stop looking away from me

Don’t make me stand in front of the TV

Dammit, look at me!

I can’t take it anymore!

I’m throwing your things on the floor!

I’m so sick of your nonchalance

I think it’s time I finally evened out the score

I’m so tired of your shit, so I’m out the door

WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME!

Introduction

2010-08-08T08:41:00.000-07:00

Thank you for taking time out of your busy life to read my literary blog. I am a wife, mother, and senior in college, so I can definitely relate to having a hectic lifestyle. This blog will be strictly for posting my literary criticisms, my poems, short stories, essays, and songs. I hope to get some feedback both positive and constructive. If you love food, please visit my other blog at www.fallonlovewithfood.blogspot.com. No, it is not a typo. It does say, fall "on" love with food. There's a perfectly good explanation for that. Fall "in" love with food as a URL address was taken. Anyway, thank you for your support for both blogs. I will try to reply to comments with a 24/48 hour window. Thank you all again. Happy reading! :)