tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47248318503379818762024-03-13T16:57:34.991-05:00idendefy unmask. destroy.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-63926898164111652782015-05-15T06:38:00.002-05:002015-05-15T06:39:17.737-05:00haiku #2magic white dust floats<br />
down from the coconut tree.<br />
it spirals to me.<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-75309886354227736842015-05-07T06:55:00.000-05:002015-05-07T06:55:01.017-05:00fear & guilt: constants I no longer use in the operation of my life.<br />
<br />
fear divides capability & guilt multiplies concern in a way that ultimately equals less power.<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-71725722321262576822015-05-03T16:23:00.001-05:002015-05-03T16:23:13.451-05:003MAY15too good to be had<br />
too bad to be understood<br />
<br />
such is the dilemma of a soul like mine<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-14165007876856174552015-04-23T17:02:00.002-05:002015-04-23T17:02:41.068-05:0023APR15so easy...<br />
<br />
bathing in Golden Fire<br />
you'd think it burns<br />
nah, i plunge higher and higher<br />
my spirit turns, satisfied.<br />
<br />
he quenches my desire.<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-11157112530161375472015-03-30T09:52:00.001-05:002015-03-30T09:52:51.912-05:00haiku #1an orb of pure gold<br />
hangs low in the matte black sky<br />
the moon, majestic<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-50484060224388726212015-03-30T09:42:00.001-05:002015-04-22T10:45:55.851-05:0030mar15hurry home to my love, my love<br />
let me anchor my hope in your love, love<br />
don't let me drift too long uncertainly<br />
certainly i will not survive the choppy seas of uncertainty<br />
<br />
hurry home to my love, my love<br />
let me pour out buckets of love, love<br />
don't leave me to drown in this pool of emotion<br />
certainly my survival is in your devotion<br />
<br />
hurry home to my love, my love<br />
come fill my heart-gap with love, love<br />
don't let me settle on the water-bed below<br />
certainly we can tread against the flow<br />
<br />
hurry from across the oceans, my love<br />
let us build a home out of our love<br />
don't let time steal from our ecstasy<br />
certainly we were meant to coexist in eternity<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-77042750601258960792015-03-30T09:36:00.000-05:002015-04-22T10:52:40.826-05:00silencewhen there is too much to say<br />
silence still speaks on my behalf<br />
unwarranted, it slanderously voices a meaning<br />
louder than the words<br />
i dare not whisper<br />
<br />
i've been chewing on these words for months, years<br />
but the bolus of hurt and apology and fault and pain and guilt and heartache<br />
refuses to be assimilated<br />
so i choke<br />
on the mountain attempting to pass my cavernous throat<br />
<br />
yet<br />
silence manages to saunter through the crevices<br />
weightless, but heavy<br />
delivering blows i no longer want to throw<br />
and<br />
cutting life-lines between me and you<br />
<br />
you<br />
<br />
you are the him who said he'd love me, but didn't<br />
you are the him who i said i'd love but... can't<br />
you are the him who i didn't love, but said i did<br />
you are the him i want<br />
<br />
you are the him separated from me<br />
by words and the lack thereof<br />
from things said and unsaid<br />
done and undone<br />
you are the one i have lost<br />
or have yet to find<br />
<br />
i imagine that my silence beckons to you in the late night<br />
(as yours does to me)<br />
whispering lies and truths, it betrays my position<br />
but you send no cavalry to my rescue<br />
no negotiations ensue<br />
<br />
so my silence meets your silence<br />
out on the open pastures<br />
maybe they will succeed at the love<br />
we could never capture<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-89249631276357125242015-03-24T13:55:00.000-05:002015-03-24T13:55:43.520-05:0024mar15some days are harder than others<br />
to put you out of my mind<br />
to forget that i am the other<br />
foolishly waiting in time<br />
<br />
some days are harder than others<br />
because i refuse to let you go<br />
and as i watch you loving others<br />
my heart breaks, blow by blow<br />
<br />
i can see more than you think i see<br />
and know more than you know<br />
like how you love the smell of lilies<br />
and watching forests grow<br />
<br />
i can be more beautiful than the lily<br />
and than any tree you can find<br />
just come back to my arms, you'll see...<br />
or get the hell out of my mind<br />
<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-43728397859388104122015-03-21T08:33:00.002-05:002015-03-21T08:33:46.610-05:0021mar15just saw the new pup, so...<br />
i guess that's what's up?<br />
told you to hurry up, but<br />
yuh still a stir black coffee in yuh cup<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-5010875963771402782015-03-18T23:11:00.001-05:002015-03-18T23:31:19.121-05:0018mar15mi love betta hurry an come<br />
two day now but it feel like a month<br />
two year now an mi still feel di same<br />
beg yuh nuh put mi poor heart to shame<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-6967371414840551282015-01-07T07:28:00.002-05:002015-01-07T07:28:59.218-05:007JAN15i am not <u>only</u> human<br />
i am BOLDY human - God's hewn man<br />
into my dirt-flesh blew His pneuma-breath<br />
so call me pneuman - a new man<br />
soul erupting anew... man, my God is good<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-78451118881440709742014-06-20T07:53:00.003-05:002014-06-20T07:53:50.107-05:0020JUN14Today, I open my mouth.<br />
<br />
Who will hear my voice?<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2014Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-10481906891408503762014-01-31T20:58:00.000-05:002014-01-31T20:58:14.631-05:0031jan14i'm weary from defending my good intentions<br />
though I wear my heart on my sleeve for all to see,<br />
they still choose to believe the worst in me.<br />
<br />
it gets old being the one they love to hate<br />
filling blanks in my identity with negative<br />
suppositions as if it's real.<br />
<br />
my love is thrown back in my face<br />
like hot spit on a warm day,<br />
making me wonder why i still care.<br />
<br />
why care for others when no one else will care for me<br />
so proving the selfish they believe is in me<br />
i am now selfish, for me.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
no more good intentions to defend<br />
just the bad they always believed,<br />
yet i am still weary.<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2014Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-60753247308000280432013-10-18T08:15:00.002-05:002013-10-18T08:15:56.525-05:0018oct13I'm 16 today<br />
I am pain<br />
futility<br />
hurt.<br />
<br />
I am weakness.<br />
<br />
I'm 16 today<br />
I am mute<br />
tired<br />
lonely.<br />
<br />
I am not heard.<br />
<br />
I'm 16 today<br />
I am stubborn<br />
rebellious<br />
trapped.<br />
<br />
I will not speak.<br />
<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2013Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-68244021834138628822013-10-02T10:52:00.001-05:002013-10-02T10:52:34.996-05:002oct13As I speak, I learn.<div><br><div>Be patient with me when my actions contradict my words. It means I have yet to learn.</div><div><br></div><div>Assuredly, I have learnt to speak.</div><div><br><div><div>Yet, I must speak to learn.</div></div></div></div><div><br></div><div>Will you be an ear?</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-61331122830666972472013-09-09T06:54:00.001-05:002013-09-10T06:50:41.313-05:00Truth, exploded.BOOM; revelation unleashed.<br>
<br>
The image of who you were exploded in a dizzying array of pieces like chunks of burning flesh disassociating from the bones of a destructive masochist.<br>
<br>
So divergent is the split between who my mind had perceived you to be and how you now appear (subject to the bomb of truth) that I struggle to reconcile the contradicting images towards an appropriate decisive response.<br>
<br>
To question you as you stand before me, morbidly exposed, is to naively expect a reincarnation of the you I once perceived. <br>
An untrustworthy perception which would align with a supposedly truthful you, all proof of which currently follows variant parabolic thrusts upward to subsequently slap the sand at my feet. <br>
<br>
My incapacity to formulate a response stems from the innate incongruity with who you were and what you did. <br>
The constant is that you did do it, so I am left to surmise that the pre-explosion image of you is the variable in this equation. <br>
You were merely an illusion.<br>
<br>
Perhaps I am at fault. <br>
<br>
For it could have been the unfulfilled desire of a parched soul (rendered unreliable by its thirst for the refreshment of a pure heart) which manufactured the mirage of your springs. <br>
Perhaps you cunningly took advantage of my delusion and combined it with an appropriate appearance so that, together, we established the facade. <br>
<br>
It could be, as well, that you are not at fault here. <br>
Well at least not the fault of misrepresentation. <br>
I discerned within you the glistening potentiality with which I interacted.<br>
Sanctimoniously, I supposed that the future you would be the present you if only by virtue of my faith in you.<br>
<br>
And then there is the possibility of corruption. <br>
An impure introduction to your once pure person-hood.<br>
<br>
Explanations aside, the retrospective reality is my reverence towards you. <br>
An image I loved.<br>
<br>
Then there was the boom. And all was changed. <br>
<br>
The manifestation of my delusion/deception/interpretation was shattered. <br>
Spewed, like flying body parts across my field of vision.<br>
The pungent stench of disappointment erupted at once. <br>
My stomach curled at the distasteful flavour of the air.<br>
Shock chilled me to the core, causing the hairs on my arm to stand on edge.<br>
Mistrust blew across my consciousness.<br>
<br>
I wanted to embrace you, but I feared your sores.<br>
I was urged to run from you, yet I hesitated.<br>
<br>
You are not who you were/could have been/had been/are to be.<br>
You are who you are. <br>
<br>
I wonder who you are.<br>
<br>
What I see before me is the pathetically limp image of a friend now dead to me.<br>
No longer can you lie to me...<div><br>But, given the impossibility of forensic reconstruction, who will ever reveal the truth?</div><div>
<br>
<br>
© Chereese La-vonne Ricketts 2013</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-14085599378810885842013-05-27T07:36:00.001-05:002013-05-27T07:36:52.117-05:00Be Free, My Country<h4>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;"><i>You are never a slave until you allow your spirit to be enslaved.</i><i>This is a performance piece I wrote for the people of Jamaica. </i><i>Stop suffering, don't bow down to difficulties of our past and present.</i><i>Only then can we truly hope for a better future.</i></span></h4>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I </span>have a story</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Cause mi need fi <span style="font-size: large;">explain</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How Massa take mi from<span style="font-size: large;"> mi glory</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And tie me up wid chain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A whole a two hundred year him keep me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But is a lifetime worth of pain</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When him rape, beat, murder mi <span style="font-size: large;">identity</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Til not even mi know mi own a name.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Although mi story might full wid pain,</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Time fi dash way dis yah ball and chain.</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am the <span style="font-size: large;">resilient spirit</span> in all a we,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The spirit of Jamaica saying "<span style="font-size: large;">BE FREE</span>"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By time Massa say him gone,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mi did waan leave</span>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Back to Africa as one!",</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dat mi shout back a Garvey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Merica, Hingland, all Canada mi run</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jus like mi friend Mister Stanley.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mek dem vex? No Gordon House him sidung</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And hear, "Five flights a day!" from Manley?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yes, mi did run way pon jet plane</span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But,<span style="font-size: large;"> Time fi dash way dis yah ball and chain.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am the <span style="font-size: large;">resilient spirit</span> in all a we,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The spirit of Jamaica saying "<span style="font-size: large;">BE FREE</span>"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Independence baby, not even learn fi stand</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When rising oil prices knock me down!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Manchester, is bauxite we mine from di land</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But in the seventies, all a dem pick up and run!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A dat deh time <span style="font-size: large;">tings get bad</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When pon the shelf not even piece a bun</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And mi, tun 'gainst mi own a bredda like mi mad</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Uncle Sam gimme gun!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By these hands too many were slain,</span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But,<span style="font-size: large;"> Time fi dash way dis yah ball and chain.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am the <span style="font-size: large;">resilient spirit</span> in all a we,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The spirit of Jamaica saying "<span style="font-size: large;">BE FREE</span>"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who is Massa now, in dis yah <span style="font-size: large;">my country</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, it no matter how mi reach.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is Massa, the withering economy</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or the IMF with them kin teet?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is is bredda 'gainst bredda</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or rich versus poverty?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is it now trying to</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bring <span style="font-size: large;">my soul</span> back to slavery!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stop look round fi summadi fi blame!</span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Time fi dash way dis yah ball and chain.</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am the <span style="font-size: large;">resilient spirit</span> in all a we,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The spirit of Jamaica saying "<span style="font-size: large;">BE FREE</span>"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
</div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2013Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-69609929538507685422013-05-06T13:30:00.001-05:002013-05-06T13:30:38.548-05:00RealasyWe live in a world where it has become the norm to subscribe to fantasy more than to reality itself. We form our lives around norms, mores and beliefs which suit our desire of normalcy. <br />
<br />
We live in a carnival house of mirrors, which, at best reveals only a part of our true selves but distorted in great proportion. And though disoriented, we fool ourselves into thinking we have seen the whole picture; that it is a clear enough reflection on which to base our actions. <br />
<br />
The truth? Our innate lack of understanding of ourselves and our world scares us. For most, the effort is too great to try and decipher the true origin. Or perhaps it offends our ego to admit that the true authority of our own world is not ourselves.<br />
<br />
So we take control, to the degree that one who had no power over his own eruption into being can do; that is, a minimal degree in the grand scheme of things. Yet, we utilize perhaps our only true power, that of imagination to soothe our fears of an undefined world, or one at least not designed by ourselves.<br />
<br />
So close your eyes to reality, friend. Turn away from the noble task of uncovering absolute truth. Create your fantasy, subscribe to it... But do tell me, are you at peace? And then tell me, do you even know what peace is... Or have you only imagined it?<br />
<br />
Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts © 2013<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-36365023827717928092013-04-10T15:54:00.001-05:002013-04-12T07:49:40.948-05:0010apr13darkness is darkness<br />
from all angles; it will never be light.<br />
<br />
but all is dark<br />
to a blind man; he chooses what is right.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>"For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. </i><br />
<i>Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. </i><br />
<i>So they have no excuse for not knowing God. </i><br />
<i>Yes, they knew God, but they wouldn’t worship him as God or even give him thanks. </i><br />
<i>And they began to think up foolish ideas of what God was like. </i><br />
<i>As a result, their minds became dark and confused. </i><br />
<i>Claiming to be wise, they instead became utter fools." </i><br />
<i>(Romans 1:20-22 NLT)</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-54782923764866754752013-04-01T06:53:00.001-05:002013-09-27T09:28:01.775-05:0027sep13Ghosts of the past pull strongly on my heart strings; tethered to my brain.<br>
<br>
Dead things.<br>
Rotten things.<br>
Of-no-use-to-me things.<br>
<br>
They want me to never misplace the memory of them.<br>
<br>
They want to control where I place the memory of them.<br>
<br>
Ghosts of the past visit me often and whisper in my ear,<br>
"Just wanted to make sure you know we're always here,<br>
"You are ours," they taunt.<div>"Come fly with us," they want.</div><div><br></div><div>And as I stand here, eyeball to treetop, recalling the exhilaration of free fall drop...</div><div>I remember too the post flight crash,</div><div>On the floor: hopes, dreams, identity - dashed.<br>
<br>"Silly fears!" The ghosts of my past jeer.</div><div>"In any cases, it matters not, we control you."</div><div><br></div><div>Oh really now?!</div><div><br>
I am securing my ancient remembrance; some things I must forget.</div><div>Like the pull of darkeness which encapsulates my regrets.</div><div><br></div><div>I jump past these things to the origin of truth, the origin of me.</div><div><br></div><div>My freedom is not defined by the right to plummet to my death.</div><div><br></div><div>Rather, I express freedom by denying my right to make faulty choices.</div><div><br></div><div>I tune out your taunts and believe His voice. And then my spirit truly flies, with all rejoicing.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-77168602730907036852013-03-31T11:18:00.001-05:002013-03-31T11:18:27.275-05:0031mar13to wish aloud is to give permission to be<br />
unauthorized wishes must not define me<br />
my sovereign Lord has that responsibility <br />
in him I rest, silently<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-19786957454164580282013-03-28T05:33:00.000-05:002013-03-28T05:33:01.965-05:00lost in translation - moralityDo you know that some languages have words to which there is no English parallel?<br />
<br />
What this means is that in the culture of the English-speaker that concept isn't recognised; there is no need to put a word to it.<br />
<br />
Consider the Zulu term "sawubona". Some English-speakers translate this to "hello", which is often a simple, meaningless passing phrase in the English-speaking culture. Truly, the word speaks to a much deeper notion of recognition which translates more closely to "i see you [on a deep spiritual level which brings you into existence]". Similar examples exist with other language comparisons.<br />
<br />
Unlike a word which translates to something immediately tangible, like say a "chair", these concepts are harder to compare since the equivalent doesn't exist in that culture. So the words fall on untrained ears.<br />
<br />
Thing is, the culture is not even aware of what is missing.<br />
<br />
I've observed a similar phenomenon among many people in the world culture. The ideas of morality have been so skewed and eroded over time that some today know nothing else and can not comprehend the Godly concepts of righteousness and purity.<br />
<br />
In their world, it simply doesn't exist.<br />
<br />
Here's the thing though; blindness [and conviction in such blindness] does not validate lifestyle.<br />
<br />
This is God's world [regardless of what one chooses to believe] and "my world" must establish [and be established in] His founding principles.<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2013Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-35997434726935625222013-03-28T04:48:00.000-05:002013-03-30T04:23:16.098-05:00misplaced hopeI broke a heart today.<br />
Rather,<br />
crushed it.<br />
<br />
The tender flesh barely resisted,<br />
as I twisted it so.<br />
I bound it with misplaced hope<br />
now on my hands,<br />
the blood of a doe-eyed innocent.<br />
<br />
It was the gentle heart<br />
of a true<br />
gentle<br />
man.<br />
<br />
What <br />
monster<br />
am I?<br />
<br />
Turns out<br />
a broken heart<br />
is a dangerous one.<br />
<br />
See,<br />
since its devastation<br />
my heart had only hoped to hope.<br />
<br />
Then,<br />
he came.<br />
<br />
Though<br />
the atrophied muscles feared over-exertion at his proposition:<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
I reasoned:<br />
Is it not<br />
at the point of failure<br />
that strength<br />
is borne?<br />
<br />
But<br />
I questioned:<br />
How could this be real?<br />
Be true?<br />
When it comes to the core of life<br />
he doesn't see it like i do.<br />
<br />
Yet,<br />
i found myself marking my daydreams<br />
perchance they came true;<br />
beginning to idolise a simple man<br />
a lovely man.<br />
But just that;<br />
a man.<br />
<br />
Where things of beauty<br />
once brought my spirit to God,<br />
they filled my mind of him.<br />
<br />
I had to<br />
re-<br />
turn.<br />
<br />
<br />
So<br />
I missed the mark.<br />
And there is collateral damage.<br />
For me,<br />
For him.<br />
I inflicted wounds<br />
with the shards of my own broken heart<br />
as, well-meaning,<br />
he offered to cradle it.<br />
<br />
Ohso, forgive me.<br />
<br />
Lord, forgive me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2013Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-77130883059777825832013-03-28T04:20:00.002-05:002013-06-16T07:27:21.058-05:00addressing my self-indulgence Last year, I went through enough experiences of failure [within a relatively short period of time] to rock me to the core.<br />
<br />
My most recent posts have mostly been about that. About looking inside and seeing [and confronting] the inner turmoil which now seemed to define "Chereese".<br />
<br />
It is rough.<br />
<br />
I'm not necessarily proud of all my moments; of the weakness and darkness my poetry began to represent. The theme of hope was never lost, though perhaps only expressed intermittently. And this being the journal of my trek to self-realisation I own every moment. However, it is time to move up and on with joy.<br />
<br />
But what did I hope for?<br />
<br />
Indeed, it was to be free of the confusion that comes with the territory when one's identity comes into question.<br />
<br />
This means re-turning my gaze to my Lord; away from the pain and uncertainty that is in me and to the clarification and invariability that IS him.<br />
<br />
I have discovered His peace, which abundantly covers those who "worry about nothing; instead pray about everything" [Phil 4v6] and I am determined to return to it.<br />
<br />
In short, my posts [and my life] shall be less about my pain and more about His reign.<br />
<br />
<br />
ChereeseAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4724831850337981876.post-20407046817849404932013-03-20T06:28:00.001-05:002013-03-20T06:28:54.947-05:0020mar13The fuel of daydreams is the hope that they will be.<br />
The fool of daydreams is that they probably never will.<br />
<br />
© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2013Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15649788951851654292noreply@blogger.com0