death

Steno Pad via Lauren “Nadi” Akins (a few from my pre-nuptial pen)

ArtEye, Creativity, Culture, Love

Steno Pad

Via:

Lauren “Nadi” Akins

 

Preface:

 Prosper.

Goodness, good news, and good people:

May they come into your aura.

Magnetize beauty, power, creativity.

Bold–Courageous–All Around Square Biz

 

THE BEST

 10-23-2013

 Seedz of joy grow magnolia flowers yall mistake as my teeth.

Smile centered,

Anatomy diagonal to the dirt.

Sun spits rays,

Faster goes the merry-go-round.

Weird and strange.

My eyes wrinkle,

Cheeks become parentheses

With as much royalty as Rameses.

 

 

 

 

10-23-2013

 come here,

let me.

be your.

life-sized centerfold.

 

8-10-2013

LAUREN OPINIONS

 

Something special in writing a book,

story or song,

to sustain the thought long enough

to feel and to meddle

with the possibility

soaking in the emotion

b/c mine are so passing, ephermal, and forgettable.

Getting my mind to stay in gear:

a great feat

-seeing as how I desire to be

planning out my career

Right Now.

Need to let myself stop feeling the need

to (get)

caught up.

And let old promise,

commitments, whatever

fly off with new wings

to see new life

as from this day forward.

The need to share ideas like water

in streams flows free.

Sleep is slipping her hands

around my waist and pulling me close to her.

I done spent the better part of the day

on a Scandal marathon with good food and catnaps:

unhaunted by tasks or to-do-lists,

a Saturday to just be.

Be flooded with a differing life pace and be sucked into a visual storybook.

When in his company 3-D is a place that’s calling my name over miles. I

love you.

I want the world so bad, friction is sandpaper on silk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Answer

Family, RetroStank, Self Esteem, Spirit and In-Spirit-ation

This is a Read-Aloud exercise.

A MUST READ-ALOUD EXERCISE:
A MUST READ-ALOUD EXERCISE:

Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.

My grandmama taught me to meditate  on Him. Repeating His name as she cleaned the kitchen, washed her dishes, and cooked the vegetables from her garden. She chanted His powerful name while she put the cornmeal back in the cabinet, and the milk and eggs back in the box.

The peace and the energy that gave her!

My grandmama was a witness wherever and whenever: at Brookshire’s, at Simmons Bank, at the Extension Office, at Ford Car Servicing. She was a little old Paul of Tarsis in terms of her fervency in spreading the Good News.

So I am obligated by her example to share who He is. Our Redeemer. The Master. Our Savior. Forever.

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.  John 14: 6

I love the Lord. He IS ALWAYS there. In my darkest hour, I tried Him. When my grandmama died, I was eight months pregnant. It was about 10 pm when I found out. I laid across the sofa and called His name. I loved my grandmother. I lived with her in my youth and in young adulthood. I expected that she would meet her first great-grand. But He is your present help.

I’m still here. Ain’t wearing head-to-toe black everyday and crying all over myself, I trust Him.

Confess your sins, repent, and be baptized. He is waiting on you.

💗

R.S.

11 out of 22 poems for my king: Birthday Variety

Poems for my king: Birthday Variety, poetry.

tingle

9-20-2012

A Thursday where aunts die and grandmothers’ earth suits are viewed without breath or blood.
Wherein attempts to revitalize yourself, you wore your brightest summer shades: pink, teal, and orange.
Your heart aches at constant ripping and repair, scattered with sawdust.
Exhausted with dosages of heartbreak medicine.
Little snack-size dark chocolates cannot sweeten the bitter taste.
The coarsest wool salts against raw skin, applauding the assortment of thoughts and fears.
Frosted with the softest sprinkles of high voltages of intense emotion,
you linger
Like an afflicted body spread on a racing gurney with closed eyes and labored breath,
sensing the changes in light from hall to hall and room to room.
But this is not movie, not at all a feature film,
this is our life.
Absorbent of both the best and the worst of what the lowlands have to offer.
Let it all fade away, tie your sunbonnet under the walnut tree and hum spirituals until everything stops.
Freeze.
A birth has been reported.
A rebirth has been reported.
The corset of life has been loosened,
The wallet that contains your strength is filled.
Back in orbit.