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I have visions of being cradled by you.
You smelling my first breath.
Giving me my first kiss, and showing me the first love of a man so that I’d know.
Helping me to drive a car, and being that shoulder to cry on.
The guiding voice of reason.
I have visions.
Many visions but, they are false.
Because you weren’t there.
These visions are tangled in the corners of my mind and they warp any sense of what should be, of what could be for me.
When my first love beat me with his fist like the violent rhythms of a nasty drum beat, you weren’t there to tell me, ‘no baby this isn’t how it should be.’
When my legs were pryed open by the first man who said I love you girl, you weren’t there to tell me ‘baby, just because he said it doesn’t mean it’s love.’
Wait for the one who God sends.
You didn’t tell me.
I didn’t know.
Because you didn’t show me the ways of love between a man and a woman, or between a father and a child.
I simply didn’t know.
I got older yes, but still I was messed up inside.
I’ve learned the ways of man by looking through the only glasses that have been provided for me. And these glasses are dingy.
They can’t seem to get clean.
And then, after all, now, you come back saying you want to show me how to love.
You want to show me what to except, and you want me to trust you.
You want me to forgive you because you weren’t there but, you don’t keep your word.
And you fool me again. This time the lesson you teach is one of disappointment, lies, and judgements.
From your lessons I still don’t know what it looks like between a man and a woman.
Now when I meet someone who is truly good, I run.
He wants to love me and it feels all wrong.
I pick him to pieces, searching, looking for that bad piece to fit the puzzle I am so use to.
I self destruct because good isn’t what I’m here for.
Good isn’t what you’ve shown me.
I keep waitin for you to validate me.
Waiting for you to accept me, waiting for you to love me,
love me,
love me.
And you can’t deliver.
And I cry, and die a little more inside everytime you try.
But today, I stand.
I hear a voice. so loud, so clear. so pure.
It’s the voice of God.
He gently tells me, that the validation I’ve been seeking is from my earthly father but “I am” your Heavenly Father.
The father of all nations, the father high in all the earth.
And I am yours.
I kissed you with the sun.
I cuddled you at night, I breathed life into you from that day to the next day to this day.
I was here to show you always what the love of a father looked like but you didn’t see me.
Do you see me now?
I will never leave you.
I will never forsake you.
I made you in the image of what is most important to me.
I gave you gifts, I gave you joy, I even gave you some trials, but I am always here.
I will always accept you,
and I will always love you,
love you,
love you.
You my child, are delivered.

© D. Lavon 2003- all rights reserved
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I know it’s late, or for some it may be early. I was up revisiting some old journals, and I came across this. I thought, hmmmmmm.. This might be good for somebody. So yes, I’m posting it now.
Quick.
Fast.
And in a hurry before I change my mind. This is one of those times when my annoyingly private self is having a full blown moment of transparency.
Let me hit post and log off before I come to my private, secret squirrel senses and hit delete.
Yikes!
By the way, happy July. I completely missed posting in the month of June. Maybe we can play catch up. I have lots to share..

Disclaimer: this piece is not an attack or vendetta against anyone. I don’t bash men, or my father. This is simply Dee. Straight, no chaser in 2003.

Let me know your thoughts on the subject.

Peace & Love
Dee

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I’m ready for you.
What took you so long to get here?
Waiting…
To feel the warmth of your breeze swaying me this way and that.
Ready…
To be sunkissed and embraced by the idea of it all.
It was bleek, and cold without you.
Sure, I like being wrapped up, strutting tall in my boots, scarves around my neck like turbans to the head, accessorizing me to the hills, but you, I missed.
I want my toes to wiggle and be painted bright with bold reminders of the new days you are here to bring.
SPRING…
Welcome home.
I’m so glad we meet again.
I’m giddy, and ready to share in the beauty of bright and sun filled days to come.
               —-Dee

Happy First day of Spring.  I’m sprung y’all. Oh, and happy official Happy Day!
🙂
Peace and love,
Dee

I love you.
But
I can’t stand you.
You make me happy.
And
You make me cry.
You are a listening ear.
But
You talk to much.
You go away,
Yet
You always come back
You are always there for me
When I need you,
You are always there for me

You are imperfect
I know that
But
I….
can’t get through life without you
I love you
I need you
My family

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Family—they get on my nerves sometimes, but we remain/are close in spite of it. And… the fact is, I can’t live without them !

Peace and love,
Dee

You laugh and mock the life I made for you.
How did I get here?
Stripped of myself, my beauty, and… my dreams.

Naked before you,
and the world.
I can’t hide the truth.
I gave it all, and tried my best ,and it still shattered before my eyes.

Before days light,
I’ve cried an ocean for you and with every tear,
I lost a part of me.

I’m tumbling through life and it’s chaotic.
Desperately seeking a peak of the woman I use to be.
The calm comes when I just stand. Something tells me daily, Woman, you must stand!
I hear laughter, and children playing on the carousal of life.
I feel the heat of myself and I quiver in anticipation of meeting me again.
I stand tall.
And you,
are a distant memory of the tears dried by the sun of a new day’s light.
I am me again.
Breathing.
Living beautifully.
Fearfully and wonderfully living out my dreams.
No longer staying down.
I stand.

Copyright © 2012 D.Lavon- All rights reserved

I wrote that for a friend who was coming out of a bad marriage.
I know we all have our own process,  but it was just my way of saying I was there and that I believed it would pass. She told me the poem really encouraged her and she felt like could indeed STAND.

I love to be an inspiration, as so many have done the same for me.

Has anyone inspired you with words, or actions? Or just by standing with you in truth? Please share your experience.

Peace and blessings
Dee

“Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.”

— Maya Angelou circa 1978 (its my favorite thing to say, yessss that bit right there…Does something to my soul!)

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Dr. Maya Angelou is my SHEro.

Unmistakably, one of the most influential voices of our time. She is a beautiful and celebrated poet, author, educator, dramatist, playwright, producer, actress, historian, filmmaker, philanthropist, and civil rights activist.

In a nutshell,  she is EVERYTHING!

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Her poetry takes me places that seem familiar, relative, and on a high that I don’t ever want to come down from.
With so many books, speeches, and poems under her belt, it’s hard to pick a favorite,  but for the sake of this post, I’ll settle on this. 

Phenomenal Woman

BY MAYA ANGELOU

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.

I say,

It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,   
The stride of my step,   
The curl of my lips.   

I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,   
That’s me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,   

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.   

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.   

I say,

It’s the fire in my eyes,   
And the flash of my teeth,   
The swing in my waist,   
And the joy in my feet.   

I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered   
What they see in me.
They try so much

But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,   
They say they still can’t see.   

I say,

It’s in the arch of my back,   
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.

I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.   

I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.   
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels,   
The bend of my hair,   
the palm of my hand,   
The need for my care.   

’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Maya Angelou, “Phenomenal Woman” from And Still I Rise.Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.

Thanks for reading!
Peace and love,
Dee

The real is how I’m feeling makes me seem weak.

I have to be hard, and strong.

It’s a man’s job from the start.
Protecting all things including my heart.
I want you to get closer, but as soon as you do, my armour will move us apart.

It’s invisable to your eyes, and the key is locked away.
If I remove the protective cover, how do I know you’ll want to stay?
If I show you the truth of myself, will you stick around for what comes day after day, after day?

I want the proof that’s in the pudding

I want…You

But..
I don’t know how to state the facts.

So I keep you at a distance,  and I’m cool with doing that.

Except….
I still want you,  and it won’t go away.
Feeling weak.
my bones aching for love.

I crave it

but I’m afraid to say it

even more afraid to show it.

Wondering what a million tomorrows would be like with you
and I’m afraid to let you know it.

So, I don’t
And. I’m alone..craving
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My words above, but his feelings. He talked, and I mentally composed His thoughts, AND told him that too!

So yea, in a nutshell, this is what I get from.. “Him.”
Nice guy, close to wonderful and this chump is afraid! You heard me–AFRAID!

We connect in lots of ways.
An endless supply of stimulation for my mind is required, and he delivers. That alone, is quite refreshing.
But then…His fears take over.

I get it, men have fears too.
I never doubted it, I don’t think I’ve heard it put so basic, exact and upfront before, but I get it.

There is this notion though, that men shouldn’t feel, or show weakness, and for whatever reason, showing REAL emotion equals….weakness.

I personally think it’s a stupid notion.

Let me clarify.
Now, I don’t want some needy, blubbering cry baby all up and through my space, throwing my energy off.
NO.
I’m not saying that.

I’m saying it’s ok to feel.
To show it.
To care about it, and let her know it.

I gave him a good piece of pie, by way of a-tell- it- like- it- is moment, and it went something like this:

I hear you, I really do, but what you are saying is that you’re afraid to show yourself. I’m struggling with the whole concept of how you think that realization will fit with me. You want something solid, yet you are afraid to offer the same. You want to show yourself on the surface, but you want them to go deep. And you say you want proof? Can’t do it. Time and effort will show the proof.
Look, I’m not into guarantees or make believe.
At this moment, to give guarantees on how this will turn out would be premature,  and truly foolish.

Their are no guarantees ok.

I can assure you this though, if you keep this up, you’ll find yourself alone time and time again.
Ha!
Now that, I can guarantee.
Your mind is misleading you.
Use your heart, and not your mind.
Be willing.
Try.
And if you get hurt, go through that.
It happens.
Get back up and dust off.
Try again.

He looked at me.. I mean a deep look, and said, “I’m really a great guy, with alot to give, I just don’t want to show myself and be left after I’ve given so much, I’m a great guy though. ”

I replied, “I bet you are, but if you are too afraid to show it,  no one will ever know.”

And that was pretty much it. I’m just gonna leave that one right there.
What I’m not gonna do is spend my time reassuring,  and trying to break through walls that are unbreakable. Nope, not doing that.
We’re all afraid of something, but I’m just not in the mood for this right now.

*rolls eyes*

And so it continues…

Peace and love,
Dee