tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61057660500685120052012-01-30T15:30:29.514-08:00Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.comBlogger471100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-16558454663943956702008-11-18T19:55:00.000-08:002008-11-19T00:13:09.886-08:00

The other day I drove to my job, which is about 5 minutes up the road. No problems...piece a cake. The next day I got behind the wheel and the mere thought of getting on to the highway drove me to tears. I really thought I was alright, and that I would be one of those people who were mentally strong enough to overcome a traumatic experience like that... I was wrong.I've never felt anxiety like

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-35911277146579086672008-06-14T21:24:00.000-07:002008-06-14T22:08:53.867-07:00

SO here I am again trying not to pull a mental hamstring, since being out of the writing game for so long. Be patient while I loosen up again. UPDATES: There hasn't been a whole lot going on in my life. I have been working my behind off, trying to get my grades up, so I can transfer to a real University again (mission accomplished). After taking classes this past semester I have passed all of

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-40033101796101713452008-02-15T11:02:00.000-08:002008-02-17T15:47:56.384-08:00

I woke up with absolutely no expectations of affection or a spoken I love you from a possible secret admirer. I wanted to treat V-day as any other day. I didn't want to take the bitter approach, or the Single Angry Black Woman route, so i thought it best to pretend the day didn't exist. But of course its not really possible. Once I stepped outside, my neighbors ENORMOUS heart flag was practically

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-386621422384302622008-02-12T13:32:00.000-08:002008-02-13T12:22:22.495-08:00

We celebrate unconditionalsand intentional gifts of adoration.Thank you forchoosing me dear.We've made it throughanother year dear"I love you" echoed forcoupled ears to hearYou shouldn't haveBut I'm so glad you did.Where would I be without you?Forgiven of my past and sawmy tomorrow.I borrowed your strengthpowered like a rocketGiven a gift greaterthan chocolate.You sacrificedfor my

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-1456064654884459582008-01-28T10:29:00.000-08:002008-01-29T16:02:56.121-08:00

Sometimes, the promises I make to myself come back to bite me later. I promised myself that if the writing bug buzzed I would stop what I was doing, and put it down on paper (or on screen). So that is what I'm doing. Before I get on my soapbox here's a lil bit of my day. My afternoon was perfectly planned. Last night I stayed up all night studying for my economics Exam (capital "E" on exam just

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-72666086036510124942008-01-21T11:33:00.001-08:002008-01-22T23:20:53.368-08:00

Here in the city of Atlanta is where Dr. Martin Luther King spent many years of his life. His home where he grew up is here in Atlanta. The church where MLK pastored , and the segregated public school where MLK graduated from is here in Georgia. There is a lot more history here than I could have imagined. It's a shame that through all my griping and moaning about living here I could experience

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-16618697084239392462008-01-19T13:55:00.001-08:002008-01-19T17:39:48.383-08:00

These pictures are not of some ones house on the Northeast of the United States. And this isn't a picture of someone's house in the Midwest. These two pictures are of the front of my house, and my backyard in GEORGIA!! I was going to blog about the weather earlier this week, when is snowed on Wednesday, but it came and went so quickly that I thought it was just a fluke. But this morning while I

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-68270580973152740072008-01-18T09:26:00.000-08:002008-01-18T10:23:44.183-08:00

Usually on Saturday mornings we never have time to eat breakfast because we're always running late for church. However we had a little extra time last Saturday. My dad and I toasted our usually slices of bread, but my mom decided she wanted to have a bowl of cereal. She had just bought a new cereal called South Beach Diet. SO she opens the tightly sealed plastic bag and slowly tilts the box

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-42715985551461603232008-01-09T19:51:00.000-08:002008-01-11T19:46:00.344-08:00

Today I started my first day of classes. I woke up this morning with not so much as a pen to write with or a gum wrapper to take notes on. Needless to say I was not prepared at all. I didn’t have one book, and I really didn’t know when they would be arriving in the mail. At Andrews I was used to having an ID card that I use to purchase my books, like a credit card, but here, you reach deep down

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-62237554403044739712008-01-08T18:11:00.001-08:002008-01-11T19:03:29.736-08:00

I am on the last leg of my fast and it has been an uphill battle. My sisters were here visiting so it is just customary for us to eat good food. I've survived my dad's steaks (for anyone who doesn't know, my dad makes the best steaks), I made it through dinner at the Golden Corral Buffet, Ox tail, Nachos, and I don't even want to even mention the desserts. There were times that I actually had to

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-60369364162161584002008-01-01T16:10:00.000-08:002008-01-11T19:46:24.828-08:00

Daniel 1:8-14 Contemporary English Version8Daniel made up his mind to eat and drink only what God had approved for his people to eat. And he asked the king's chief official for permission not to eat the food and wine served in the royal palace. 9God had made the official friendly and kind to Daniel. 10But the man still told him, " The king has decided what you must eat and drink. And I am

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-85105143741573674852007-12-25T20:35:00.000-08:002008-01-11T19:46:54.773-08:00

My dad bought my mother a really great gift called The Roumba. It's basically a flat circular device that vacuums your floors for you. (Hottest thing I've ever seen) My mom couldn't wait until Christmas so we decided to test out our new gadget. We watch it push its bristles around my parents bedroom and digest dust and debris. One by one we leave and return to where the hens cluck in the kitchen.

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-76957882508323328812007-12-22T22:35:00.000-08:002008-01-11T19:04:05.184-08:00

1:47amI'm up right now fighting killer cramps and waiting for my tea to cool to a sip-able temperature. My head is beating throbs of pain like a heart, and all I want is for the pain to subside long enough for me to drift to sleep. I'll just wait the 13 minutes until the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air comes on. I can recite those episodes by memory. Sleep is near. But of course, like all other nights

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-16349346496804847402007-12-17T19:13:00.000-08:002008-01-11T19:02:23.822-08:00

I throw myself on the mercy of the Blog community... I have been neglecting my readers, and I'm sorry. It's not because I've been so distracted and dedicated to my book. I wish it was that. But the reason I haven't written anything, is because I've been preoccupied. I made the mistake of borrowing my sister's Sex and the City DVD's...The whole collection!!! And I've been watching that on the

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-39498021409818576772007-12-13T22:24:00.000-08:002007-12-13T22:26:18.149-08:00

Chapter 1 I don't know what I’m doing here. Every time I say I won't accept anymore invitations I always seem to find myself sitting on a couch wondering how I got there. My girls and I usually go just to observe everyone else, and to have something to talk about the next day. But strangely enough I was here alone, with not one of my girls to giggle and gossip with. The entire house was almost

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-38230297474217284802007-12-11T21:23:00.000-08:002008-01-11T19:04:34.679-08:00

My sister is in med school and she is doing her geriatric rotations. Her days mostly consist of home visits where she gives the elderly people they regular check ups, and tries to make them feel as comfortable as possible. For one of her classes she has to do an 10 minute presentation on death. It can be anything she wants so she thought to get her families perspective on death. She called us and

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-29889964666923022162007-11-25T20:46:00.000-08:002007-11-25T21:35:31.506-08:00

Things you can count on when taking a road trip with the Etheridge Family:1. Minimum bathroom breaks. 2. Stop at a hotel? Heck no!! We drive straight to our destination, or we sleep curled up in our car. 3. Grandma can always be counted on for random conversation, and often times talking to herself. You might even be woken up at 3am to the sound of hymns. She reads almost every sign that passes

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-1497216484282492032007-11-18T20:45:00.000-08:002007-11-25T20:46:08.470-08:00

I am back in my home state of Massachusetts, and I am surprisingly really happy to be here. Usually I dread coming home to my small suburban town because I always run into those old high school "friends" who you haven't seen in like 5 or 6 years. And it will just so happen to be the day I go out to the store in a weird outfit, or just look like a hot mess that I see someone I know. It's like a

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-59319853165913660042007-11-11T09:29:00.000-08:002007-11-11T13:36:48.752-08:00

So last night after the evening service at my church, there was a basketball game at the academy across the street. My dad wanted to check it out, so we go in, have a seat and we're waiting for the game to start. First it's a girls game, and it's taking FOREVER to start because they were waiting on the refs to show up. So I do what I do best and start observing my surroundings and look at the

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-88682509295667393252007-11-07T22:13:00.000-08:002007-11-08T13:29:41.695-08:00

Does anyone remember a shooting that happened about a year ago that involved a man killing some children at an Amish school in Pennsylvania? A man came into the small school house and held a dozen students hostage and killed 5. He then killed himself and left a suicide note for his wife to read. When something like this happens the victims relatives, give angry press interviews praying hell on

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-11260568614754283262007-11-07T13:18:00.000-08:002007-11-07T14:20:13.200-08:00

The battle of the bulge is still in full effect. So right by my house there is a Gold's gym, and I always pass it without giving a second thought. SO one day I decide, let me go inside and check out their prices and see how many perfect bodies I see. Much to my delight the cardio equipment was occupied with elderly woman who remained at a constant leisure walking pace. Upstairs there were a few

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-42270474640515318762007-11-04T01:28:00.000-07:002007-11-04T01:35:22.830-07:00

Sleep I fight sleep, andsleep fights me. My eye lids at war withfoundations of physics.And they are losing the battle. But gravity is no matchfor my will to see a sunrise.Hear a bird sing at dawn.So I wait on. But truth be told Iwait not for visions ofgrandeur or soundsof chirped melody. My bed feels stiff like wood,and head rests on cinder blocks.Sheets feel like sand

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-28720460855095495122007-11-03T23:58:00.000-07:002007-11-04T01:36:23.876-07:00

To Whom It May Concern To Whom this may concern,Vague, for I don't know exactlywho I'm addressing. You keep me guessing.Speaking in dark corners,Hidden in shadowed secrecy. I thought to send thisanonymously. But I don'tcower as you do. So here I amResponding accordingly. I don't appreciate yourfire tongue spittinglies. Especially with meon your mind. Your weapons of

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-9531750780545405452007-11-03T23:06:00.001-07:002007-11-03T23:48:30.053-07:00

So I'm living in Atl, and slowly learning that you gotta take the good with the bad. If I had my way I wouldn't be here right now, But this is the path God has led me to. I cherish the moments I spend with my family while I can, and I try not to take them for granted. It's the little things that bring families together, and I hold them close to me. A friend of mine was telling me how he doesn't

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-90950054027837551322007-10-28T18:16:00.000-07:002007-10-28T19:11:56.003-07:00

I know I haven't posted anything new in probably a good month. I hope I still have some readers left, and you all haven't moved to more consistent blogs. My hiatus from the blog scene is because I've decided to actually do something with my life. I was growing tired of sitting at home all day and feeling sorry for myself. Rejection after rejection from job after job, and I could feel my mind

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-58425514980271434962007-10-02T01:36:00.000-07:002007-10-02T01:40:00.537-07:00

My feet left earth the first time he kissed me.My thoughts disconnected from my reality. And the sensation took a run with mental agility. I held our love with an essential frailty and I tucked it deep within my hearts cavity. Oh honey love. Dripped sweet and thick like the passion that dances off of our lips. Just when I thought love was a cynics perfect argument. It put selfish games away

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-78394063319539729582007-09-28T22:04:00.000-07:002007-09-28T23:42:44.757-07:00

Happy Sabbath everyone!!! God is Good. T.G.I.F. I should be sleeping since its 2:32am but I wanted to share something with you all. I was reading in the bible tonight in Romans and it was talking about struggling with sin. Romans 7:14-25 basically is talking about how we know we shouldn't sin, but we still do it. We fully know the laws of God, yet we break them. When we want to do good, we don't.

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-22686847975453682812007-09-26T15:15:00.000-07:002007-09-26T19:38:42.650-07:00

So, as the struggles of life continue I do everything I can to avoid my adversary. But still this evil thing has taken away the things I love. It keeps me from enjoying what used to bring me happiness. And everytime I think I can overcome and truimph, and stick to the vows I committed myself to, I fail. I backslide. I give in. That D named enemy is upon me as I type. And its on my mind every

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-22267949432127467562007-09-20T01:14:00.000-07:002008-01-12T22:01:45.698-08:00

Her age was apparent in themeekness of her cheeks,and in the uncharted territorywhere her two legs meet.But that number and herbody was a clear contradiction.So when he inquiredHer hip width convinced him thatnumber was fiction.And like the beginning of an addictionhis curiosity got the best of him.His mind warned stop, while he battledwith the rest of him.She being non the wiser, to herhe was

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-74654895961325983742007-09-17T15:56:00.001-07:002007-09-17T23:09:02.486-07:00

I feel like I'm really being tested by God right now. Everyday I wake up with the mindset that this day is brand new. I'm not who I used to be, and I have no desire to go back there again. But every now and then it seems that as soon as Amen leaves my lips, the sincerity of what I prayed about is put to the test. More like a pop-quiz. It's always sporatic and can catch an unsuspecting person off

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-2809980137433747922007-09-09T20:51:00.000-07:002007-09-11T08:51:17.515-07:00

Living in Georgia without any friends is a hard thing to come to grips with. Especially when your heart yearns so earnestly to be back where you are familiar with almost everything. I left all of my friends and practically my life to come to a foreign place without anyone. The first month or so I wasn't even worried about making new friends. I knew it would come with time, But tick tock went the

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-46812227346869110462007-09-05T22:35:00.000-07:002007-09-05T22:56:00.383-07:00

Hello?Is anyone home?I know I unexpectedly stopped by,Your heart.You thought I'd be on of those gueststhat come and quickly depart.No.I'm not like the others.A connection grew betweenyour heart and mine.But in the past with the other guestwho pulled your heart stringsyou gave them no time.With them you pushed...and with me you still pushed.You pushed me away because maybeI was getting to close,

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-39891237403822798012007-09-05T16:36:00.000-07:002007-09-05T22:34:09.520-07:00

I have a real love for children and old people. Everything else in between I'll leave to the professionals. I love talking to them, observing their habits, and sometimes just stare at them. But have you ever seen those old people (I guess I should call them elderly people for sensitivity sake... OH WELL lol *sorry grandma) But ever noticed the old people who look like they have a constant frown

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-74943683898661877932007-09-05T14:29:00.001-07:002007-09-05T15:58:39.220-07:00

There's something about the way the sound of Jazz floats through the air like a sweet scent. Sometimes it's like you hear a big band or a trumpet solo and you can see the notes in living color. A violet guitar solo, and a midnight blue base serenade, or the yellow ting of a snare rumble. Have you ever been overwhelmed with the warmth of a saxophone or felt your heart thump right along with the

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-80610076618770970752007-09-01T15:34:00.000-07:002007-09-01T16:37:23.899-07:00

Happy Sabbath!! After you've done something that you knew was wrong, has there ever been a time when you just couldn't get it off of your mind. It was like a mouse gnawing on your brain all day? Or maybe even something you've said that was hurtful to someone else, has it ever stayed on your mind for a really long time? That feeling is called guilt. We should actually rejoice in that feeling of

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-38931089996271321702007-08-27T08:30:00.000-07:002007-08-27T09:32:13.421-07:00

You know sometimes i wish i was a guy. And im not saying that to get on my soapbox about the usual female argument of painful period cramps or child birth. Im talking about the different mentalities of men and women. This blog was inspired because I was priviledged enough to spend the evening with my brothers watching um...FIBA something basketball game. USA v.s. All the other teams of the world

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-2904085922362274842007-08-21T19:43:00.000-07:002007-08-27T08:30:33.385-07:00

Hey ya'll. Ok so I don't consider myself a movie critic by any means, But I've decided to speak on this. Early this week I saw the Bourne Ultimatum, and my boyfriend was incredible in that movie. I've always had a hidden passion for white boys, being that I basically grew up in an Abercrombie oasis. There's just something about a tight shirt wearing, ripped knee patch, ball capped white boy that

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-82619837731146864232007-08-09T22:19:00.000-07:002007-08-10T00:48:29.880-07:00

I know its been a minute since I posted anything, but I have been working a bit harder on my poems, so its taking me a bit longer. But at any rate... I was having a discussion with a very close friend of mine on the phone a couple of nights ago, and we got on the topic of religion and how keeping the Sabbath is very important. It's a commandment that is often overlooked. (For those of you who

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-12776993401556605182007-08-05T17:29:00.000-07:002007-08-05T21:38:09.929-07:00

Sometimes I think I might be one of those women who will be single until I'm like 50. It's a rough time for single women, especially single black women. Believe me, im not really on the prowl for a man right now, but of course I have taking a look at the men in the area. It looks rather hopeless. I've never seen so many gold teeth in all of my life. I can't understand half of them when they

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-6515495472547093232007-08-03T21:11:00.000-07:002007-08-03T21:58:53.038-07:00

12:22amI'm really emotional right now. I can feel every emotion welling in my body all at once. Today is the big day. My rebapism. I type these words through eyes filled with tears. I don't know what im feeling. Excitment, I'm anxious, and honestly a little nervous. But not the kind of nervous you might think. Like a bride the night before her wedding. She lays hoping nothing goes wrong, and

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-76262906938326604682007-08-02T10:46:00.000-07:002007-08-02T14:06:25.730-07:00

A prose poem: Meaning no stanza's, verses or line breaks like in traditional poetry. Kind of more in paragraph form...No electricity in my one bedroom apartment. My bed occupied only by my body and pregnant thoughts. Giving birth to ideas of serial killing murderers, chainsaw massacres and my possibly unlocked door. I'm alone, again. No cable to watch, no phone calls to distract me from my own

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-61360424843876969712007-07-31T23:02:00.000-07:002007-08-09T16:58:52.916-07:00

The door was cracked, just enough to create hope.Now was her chance for freedom.With her owner on his way into townthe window of opportunity was wideningwith each mile driven away from the farm house.She slowing opened the doorbeing startled by the creaking noise.She jumped back, twisting her head in everydirection hoping no one heard.It was now or never.She lept from the porch andran low through

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-30147433633157272102007-07-31T20:36:00.000-07:002007-07-31T21:45:58.319-07:00

For a while I have battled with my relationship with God. He and I have always had a weird up and down relationship, where I would be on fire for him on one weekend, and then fall right back into my usualy mess the next. (And when I say MESS i mean just that) my relationship with him was non existent and i was so caught up in the world and my friends that I forgot all about him. As some of you

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-27696772415235539132007-07-30T11:38:00.000-07:002007-07-31T23:00:36.094-07:00

Aiight...So in my last entry I was briefly discussing my dreams of becoming an actress... I know many of you questioned it (as i did). I'm not trying to be the next Mo'Nique but it is something i have a desire to pursue IN ADDITION to having my career. I am fully aware, that it's hard enough to be a Seventh Day Adventist in the entertainment industry, because of all the stipulations i

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-697898279807310122007-07-29T20:24:00.000-07:002007-07-30T02:21:01.586-07:00

Early dawn, and I roseThe coal in my eye was insequential,and my morning breath easily removable. Bypassed a slow rollone leg leaped from my sheetsThe other repeats.And as soon as i am erect, i then fold to my knees tospeak to the almighty.Jesus Christ, ruler of my life, thank you for yourmercy through the night.Opened my eyes to a new day, and new daylight.Because through thee is the only way i

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-43405482755973275052007-07-28T20:58:00.000-07:002007-07-28T22:57:05.438-07:00

Dreams are only as big as your dare to dream them... Keep your dreams small, and and they will hover just above the dust with no hope of reaching the sky. Sure you might reach them, but did you really have to stretch that far? I used to do that. I was an assasin to my potenial because i was scared I would fail. And in the end i still felt like a failure, because i didn' accomplish anything i

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105766050068512005.post-20894564536561593742007-07-27T23:38:00.000-07:002008-01-21T08:56:34.468-08:00

Hello all of my blog readers out there. This will be my first official blog on this site. This entry is not a "knock your socks off" kinda entry, its just a quick heads up for what to expect. I am an aspiring writer, who displays her passions through poetry and prose. I hope to use this blog as a platform to battle my reality and imagination, and let creativity meet actuality. I have lots of

Poetesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16308705700420857197noreply@blogger.com1