Manipulators
Liars
Informants and Distractors
So what is the truth?
How do I know it?
When information has been distorted
I know what is right
I know what is wrong
But how do I know The Way if it is not drawn?
Outlined
Plotted
A Goal has been concocted
Mind
Body
Soul, all targets
My religion
My culture
My education, all proportionate
So what is the truth?
And how do I know it
When all information that I knew has been distorted?
What is a lie?
What is truth?
Where do I draw the line, when I cannot divide the two?
Love
Faith
All beliefs of the Most High
Arrogance
Astray
Both strategies of the Father of Lies
Thought
Intention
I hope they make good
Sleep
Detention
Very common in the hood
So what is the truth
And how do I know it
When all information I knew has been distorted?
What is a lie?
What is genuine?
Who do I trust
To tell me the middle
Copyright November 2 2011, Moniquea Brown
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Thou Shall Not Despair
Looking around I see a world full of chaos
Manipulated masses and beings full of pompous
Therefore I feel alone
Confidently awaiting my new home
The situation is growing in intensity
As I am being enlightened to secret societies
Their motives and intentions are nevertheless hostile
But their means to their intent seems nonetheless subtle
Sadly there are few whose eyes are open
Their souls have left them for secular console
Console for what is just pride and self-importance
From whom do you ask? Just look on your dollar
I hate to sit and be idle
Lord knows inaction is a penniless briber
Although someone else may benefit from this motion
But if I told you his name you would call me a Liar
Distraction is his ultimate goal
I must admit he is doing a good job
To the despair of His heart he has lost so many followers
All for just ONE moment of ephemeral power
Manipulated masses and beings full of pompous
Therefore I feel alone
Confidently awaiting my new home
The situation is growing in intensity
As I am being enlightened to secret societies
Their motives and intentions are nevertheless hostile
But their means to their intent seems nonetheless subtle
Sadly there are few whose eyes are open
Their souls have left them for secular console
Console for what is just pride and self-importance
From whom do you ask? Just look on your dollar
I hate to sit and be idle
Lord knows inaction is a penniless briber
Although someone else may benefit from this motion
But if I told you his name you would call me a Liar
Distraction is his ultimate goal
I must admit he is doing a good job
To the despair of His heart he has lost so many followers
All for just ONE moment of ephemeral power
Thursday, June 17, 2010
No Witnesses
The sounds of the clock ticking back and forth
I hear the crickets chirping outside my window
With my head tilted back against the pillow on my bed
I begin to fade…
An aroma, somewhat sweet
Enters the room
From the lobby
I try to face my intruder
But, before I do…I begin to fade
I hear water dripping from the faucet
And the air in here is quite hostile
My body grows weak and nauseous
I collapse on the ground…and begin to fade
Out in the grass I can see flowers
Roses and tulips but the smell is sour
I feel a presence approach me from behind
I glance back to see a spirit behind the vines
It grabs my hand and takes me along for a ride
But, I can’t see my destination
I do not believe I have circulation
I gasp for air to breathe
But all I can feel is---
Suffocation!
My body---dying in front of me
I have already departed my flesh---spiritually
I have died…instantly
And there were no witnesses to this tragedy
Copyright 09 June 2010, Moniquea Brown
I hear the crickets chirping outside my window
With my head tilted back against the pillow on my bed
I begin to fade…
An aroma, somewhat sweet
Enters the room
From the lobby
I try to face my intruder
But, before I do…I begin to fade
I hear water dripping from the faucet
And the air in here is quite hostile
My body grows weak and nauseous
I collapse on the ground…and begin to fade
Out in the grass I can see flowers
Roses and tulips but the smell is sour
I feel a presence approach me from behind
I glance back to see a spirit behind the vines
It grabs my hand and takes me along for a ride
But, I can’t see my destination
I do not believe I have circulation
I gasp for air to breathe
But all I can feel is---
Suffocation!
My body---dying in front of me
I have already departed my flesh---spiritually
I have died…instantly
And there were no witnesses to this tragedy
Copyright 09 June 2010, Moniquea Brown
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Broken Seal (Sequel of "I Accept but I Reject")
Broken Seal
The purpose of a seal is to protect the contents of something
Its purpose is to prevent contaminants from engaging in contact with the substance
But what if the seal is broken?
The result would be that the substance is left vulnerable
Yes, vulnerability can be dangerous
It’s serious because once the contaminant has done its job
The victim is helpless
Helplessness and fear are terrible emotions to experience
Because you wonder if that contaminant is going to return
And once again “hurt” you
Or maybe this time it won’t be just one contaminant
But, several contaminants that come to “devour” you
So, what should you do to protect that seal?
Making it as strong as possible could work---
If and only if that contaminant doesn’t have something bigger
And better to destroy it…and once again
Come for you---its previous victim
The process can be repeated over and over again
And those emotions can reignite countless times again
But the pain of the event never goes away
The feelings of anxiety
And not knowing when or how it will happen, you will never forget
You feel as if you cannot protect yourself
So you are left unprepared
You hope that somehow the seal can be repaired
And you hope that the pain will disappear
But it never happens and you are left in despair
With no one to turn to
And no one to understand you
Except for your assailant who could care less about you
Now who must you run to?
There is no one to run to
This world is very cold
And the tribulations of life can leave you torn
Ripped to pieces and shreds
Over something that you could never have prevented
Copyright 08 June 2010, Moniquea Brown
The purpose of a seal is to protect the contents of something
Its purpose is to prevent contaminants from engaging in contact with the substance
But what if the seal is broken?
The result would be that the substance is left vulnerable
Yes, vulnerability can be dangerous
It’s serious because once the contaminant has done its job
The victim is helpless
Helplessness and fear are terrible emotions to experience
Because you wonder if that contaminant is going to return
And once again “hurt” you
Or maybe this time it won’t be just one contaminant
But, several contaminants that come to “devour” you
So, what should you do to protect that seal?
Making it as strong as possible could work---
If and only if that contaminant doesn’t have something bigger
And better to destroy it…and once again
Come for you---its previous victim
The process can be repeated over and over again
And those emotions can reignite countless times again
But the pain of the event never goes away
The feelings of anxiety
And not knowing when or how it will happen, you will never forget
You feel as if you cannot protect yourself
So you are left unprepared
You hope that somehow the seal can be repaired
And you hope that the pain will disappear
But it never happens and you are left in despair
With no one to turn to
And no one to understand you
Except for your assailant who could care less about you
Now who must you run to?
There is no one to run to
This world is very cold
And the tribulations of life can leave you torn
Ripped to pieces and shreds
Over something that you could never have prevented
Copyright 08 June 2010, Moniquea Brown
Dawn
Dawn
Represents a new beginning
Represents a new life
Represents a new cycle
Represents a new time
The rays of the sun stretch out across the planet
The plants and trees slowly awake from their dreams
The animals, if not nocturnal, start rustling among the leaves
And here I am in my bed, enjoying the scene
But once again I awake alone
With no one beside me
No one to call my own
And share this home
I sit here and wonder if maybe this is all a dream
That you really are here with me---although invisibly
But, somehow that theory is impossible
Since our love ended quite some time ago
Why can’t I wake up from you and start over again?
Why can’t I, like dawn, create a new beginning?
Somehow my heart has given up on love
And somehow my mind won’t allow me interest in anyone
Other than you, your love
Was poisonous
Your passion
Was dangerous
Although your commitment to me seemed continuous
Where did I go wrong?
Where did we fall?
Because, I am unable to get over you
I am unable to see you
With someone else
And to me you are bullet-proof
And I am see-through
So, I guess unlike dawn we are not renewable
Our love unscrupulous
We faded—the two of us
Unable to cope with the newness
Represents a new beginning
Represents a new life
Represents a new cycle
Represents a new time
The rays of the sun stretch out across the planet
The plants and trees slowly awake from their dreams
The animals, if not nocturnal, start rustling among the leaves
And here I am in my bed, enjoying the scene
But once again I awake alone
With no one beside me
No one to call my own
And share this home
I sit here and wonder if maybe this is all a dream
That you really are here with me---although invisibly
But, somehow that theory is impossible
Since our love ended quite some time ago
Why can’t I wake up from you and start over again?
Why can’t I, like dawn, create a new beginning?
Somehow my heart has given up on love
And somehow my mind won’t allow me interest in anyone
Other than you, your love
Was poisonous
Your passion
Was dangerous
Although your commitment to me seemed continuous
Where did I go wrong?
Where did we fall?
Because, I am unable to get over you
I am unable to see you
With someone else
And to me you are bullet-proof
And I am see-through
So, I guess unlike dawn we are not renewable
Our love unscrupulous
We faded—the two of us
Unable to cope with the newness
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Transience
Day and night both come and go fleetingly
The tide of the ocean may appear doubly
During the year gray clouds can bring about showers
And the water from the downpour may linger for hours
However, the transience of these events means nothing to me
Since, being with you could last for an eternity
Hopefulness or maybe desperation keeps me clinging to you
But, only if you would confirm to me that this love we share is true
I strongly wish that our love would evolve
But, all that I am getting from you is unanswered phone calls
Text messages, e-mails, and sometimes even voice mails
So, what is it exactly that you are trying to communicate?
Transience is only meant for things that have a compliment
As for the day its compliment is night
And darkness has its brother light
But, what compliment is there for me without you in my life?
I thought being with you had completed me
But, now you have revealed to me your lack of curiosity
Curiosity for what I once thought was a love for me
Physically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually
So, now that you are gone I am left with insecurities and loneliness
In search of something that never really existed
Something that I once thought could have been permanent
But, your presence in this relationship ended up being transient
Copyright June 06 2010, Moniquea Brown
The tide of the ocean may appear doubly
During the year gray clouds can bring about showers
And the water from the downpour may linger for hours
However, the transience of these events means nothing to me
Since, being with you could last for an eternity
Hopefulness or maybe desperation keeps me clinging to you
But, only if you would confirm to me that this love we share is true
I strongly wish that our love would evolve
But, all that I am getting from you is unanswered phone calls
Text messages, e-mails, and sometimes even voice mails
So, what is it exactly that you are trying to communicate?
Transience is only meant for things that have a compliment
As for the day its compliment is night
And darkness has its brother light
But, what compliment is there for me without you in my life?
I thought being with you had completed me
But, now you have revealed to me your lack of curiosity
Curiosity for what I once thought was a love for me
Physically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually
So, now that you are gone I am left with insecurities and loneliness
In search of something that never really existed
Something that I once thought could have been permanent
But, your presence in this relationship ended up being transient
Copyright June 06 2010, Moniquea Brown
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Trampled Path
Examining your footprints
Outlined in the dirt
I begin to stand up
With my head still faced downward
Looking at the earth
I begin to walk down the path
Of which many footprints I begin to notice
But somehow, out of all of them
I recognize your shoe image
But while I look at these footprints
Outlined in the dirt
I am reminded of another path
One that caused me much hurt
Though this path was not physical
It was emotional
And though you may not be able to see it
Somehow it’s visible
Possibly visible because only I could see it
Or maybe because I was the only one who could feel it
Because like those footprints
This path was also trampled over
The path that I am speaking about is my heart
Me being so naïve, I allowed many to embark on the journey
So if you were to look inside my soul
You would see that it too has been traveled frequently
Many and many times before
Over and over my heart was broke
But then you came along
Your footprint so unique and conspicuous
Who wouldn’t have noticed?
And just as visible as your footprint was in the dirt
It was in my heart
And it was in my soul
Because the day when you approached me
I knew that I could close the door
I could close the door to the path
Of which so many had traveled
But what’s so special about you
Was not only your unique footprint
What was so special about you
Was not even that my soul recognized you in an instant
But what was so special about you
Was that out of all the men who trampled over my heart
You knew that I was innocent
I was innocent because I so desperately wanted to be loved
I so desperately wanted to find someone
Who I could trust
But love comes on its on time
And looking back into my heart I see that you’ve been missed
You came and went like night and day
I had no time to rationalize or so I went astray
Now, I am left alone
And you are gone
So unlike the footprints in the dirt
That can be removed with a swaying of the foot
My heart remains trampled
And your footprint remains embossed on it
Copyright March 16 2010, Moniquea Brown
Outlined in the dirt
I begin to stand up
With my head still faced downward
Looking at the earth
I begin to walk down the path
Of which many footprints I begin to notice
But somehow, out of all of them
I recognize your shoe image
But while I look at these footprints
Outlined in the dirt
I am reminded of another path
One that caused me much hurt
Though this path was not physical
It was emotional
And though you may not be able to see it
Somehow it’s visible
Possibly visible because only I could see it
Or maybe because I was the only one who could feel it
Because like those footprints
This path was also trampled over
The path that I am speaking about is my heart
Me being so naïve, I allowed many to embark on the journey
So if you were to look inside my soul
You would see that it too has been traveled frequently
Many and many times before
Over and over my heart was broke
But then you came along
Your footprint so unique and conspicuous
Who wouldn’t have noticed?
And just as visible as your footprint was in the dirt
It was in my heart
And it was in my soul
Because the day when you approached me
I knew that I could close the door
I could close the door to the path
Of which so many had traveled
But what’s so special about you
Was not only your unique footprint
What was so special about you
Was not even that my soul recognized you in an instant
But what was so special about you
Was that out of all the men who trampled over my heart
You knew that I was innocent
I was innocent because I so desperately wanted to be loved
I so desperately wanted to find someone
Who I could trust
But love comes on its on time
And looking back into my heart I see that you’ve been missed
You came and went like night and day
I had no time to rationalize or so I went astray
Now, I am left alone
And you are gone
So unlike the footprints in the dirt
That can be removed with a swaying of the foot
My heart remains trampled
And your footprint remains embossed on it
Copyright March 16 2010, Moniquea Brown
Monday, March 15, 2010
Forgotten Memories
Glistening in the water is an image of your face
I stand here looking at the river in distress
The trees are swaying from left to right under the sun
The sound of rushing water is murmured to a low hum
I walk up the lining of the river towards a waterfall
I am taking aback by its mystique
Beauty seems only in the eyes of the beholder
But a waterfall has no eyes to see
Nostalgia starts kicking in because I can hear your voice
I whisper quietly to the trees
The wind comes and enfolds my body
Being here seems nothing more than a dream
A dream that I could never make reality
A dream that I wish to never wake up from
But the thought of you seems reoccurring
Your death keeps me in mourning
Mourning because I will never find another like you
Mourning because you will never experience the taste of pleasure again
I will never feel you lips against mine
I will never feel your touch, which is somewhat divine
Memories of you make me feel so secure
But you are not in love with me anymore
You have moved on to someone else
And all I am left with are forgotten memories of the past
Copyright March 14 2010, Moniquea Brown
I stand here looking at the river in distress
The trees are swaying from left to right under the sun
The sound of rushing water is murmured to a low hum
I walk up the lining of the river towards a waterfall
I am taking aback by its mystique
Beauty seems only in the eyes of the beholder
But a waterfall has no eyes to see
Nostalgia starts kicking in because I can hear your voice
I whisper quietly to the trees
The wind comes and enfolds my body
Being here seems nothing more than a dream
A dream that I could never make reality
A dream that I wish to never wake up from
But the thought of you seems reoccurring
Your death keeps me in mourning
Mourning because I will never find another like you
Mourning because you will never experience the taste of pleasure again
I will never feel you lips against mine
I will never feel your touch, which is somewhat divine
Memories of you make me feel so secure
But you are not in love with me anymore
You have moved on to someone else
And all I am left with are forgotten memories of the past
Copyright March 14 2010, Moniquea Brown
Distance Doesn't Have To Hurt (Dedicated to Will)
Your eyes are the color of island fresh water
Your body tone is that of mocha chocolate
Your energy is similar to that the sun
And your persona can’t be compared to anyone
I love talking to you since your spirit is so light
Although I cannot be near you
Your presence somehow is still in sight
Sometimes I do forget certain aspects of your being
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate you…seriously
You’re so full of love and so ready to give
Although many cannot recognize such a wonderful gift
Though in its rarity it brought me much joy
But no I have never mistaken your kindness for a toy
I hope that in the future we will finally meet face to face
Yet, I have told you I have no plans in committing
But to be your friend seems truly a gift from heaven
So hopefully you won’t mistake our friendship as ephemeral
Copyright March 14 2010, Moniquea Brown
Your body tone is that of mocha chocolate
Your energy is similar to that the sun
And your persona can’t be compared to anyone
I love talking to you since your spirit is so light
Although I cannot be near you
Your presence somehow is still in sight
Sometimes I do forget certain aspects of your being
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate you…seriously
You’re so full of love and so ready to give
Although many cannot recognize such a wonderful gift
Though in its rarity it brought me much joy
But no I have never mistaken your kindness for a toy
I hope that in the future we will finally meet face to face
Yet, I have told you I have no plans in committing
But to be your friend seems truly a gift from heaven
So hopefully you won’t mistake our friendship as ephemeral
Copyright March 14 2010, Moniquea Brown
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
"Writings from an Artist"
Poetry is an art; it’s an expression of the self
But many take it for granted
Making it into something of less worth
It takes knowledge to understand
And vision to see
But even with both of these qualities
One can overlook the many manifestations
Of real poetry---art
Sexual poetry…
It is not just about sex
I usually don’t like it because many can’t compose it
They can’t describe it...as an art
They simply list the events of pure Sex
Whether it be rough or sweet and slow
The components of the work are nevertheless: poor
Poetry is an art
Therefore it would take an artist to create it
No we are not singers or dancers or painters (though many of us possess these talents)
But yes, we are artists
And we write for expression
You pick up your pen and your thoughts flow
Or if you are like me your thoughts stagnate
But it is okay….not all poetry comes when we want
It is not like a fountain or sink…turn it off and turn it on
But nevertheless the material…like water…must flow
Talent…true talent manifests on its own
Its own time
In its own way
But it is up to you…the creator
To turn your thoughts into something unique
Yes, you do put them on paper when they come
But you just don’t want a compilation of words and sentences
You want a message
Poetry is a message---in the form of art
Writing sends a message
Painting sends a message
Singing and rapping definitely send a message
So, what is your message?
When I read your work do I feel:
Uplifted
Inspired
Sad
Happy
What is your message?
What do you want people to perceive you as?
What do you want people to perceive your writings as?
Just words? Just sentences? Just thoughts?
Or do you want them to read
Real life experiences
Intense emotion and expression
Stanzas full of depth and meaning?
But here I will stop
Babbling on and on about nothing
Because in the end it is up to You
You the poet
You the reader
You the artist
To make a change
And make poetry…once again
An Art
Copyright December 2 2009, Moniquea Brown
But many take it for granted
Making it into something of less worth
It takes knowledge to understand
And vision to see
But even with both of these qualities
One can overlook the many manifestations
Of real poetry---art
Sexual poetry…
It is not just about sex
I usually don’t like it because many can’t compose it
They can’t describe it...as an art
They simply list the events of pure Sex
Whether it be rough or sweet and slow
The components of the work are nevertheless: poor
Poetry is an art
Therefore it would take an artist to create it
No we are not singers or dancers or painters (though many of us possess these talents)
But yes, we are artists
And we write for expression
You pick up your pen and your thoughts flow
Or if you are like me your thoughts stagnate
But it is okay….not all poetry comes when we want
It is not like a fountain or sink…turn it off and turn it on
But nevertheless the material…like water…must flow
Talent…true talent manifests on its own
Its own time
In its own way
But it is up to you…the creator
To turn your thoughts into something unique
Yes, you do put them on paper when they come
But you just don’t want a compilation of words and sentences
You want a message
Poetry is a message---in the form of art
Writing sends a message
Painting sends a message
Singing and rapping definitely send a message
So, what is your message?
When I read your work do I feel:
Uplifted
Inspired
Sad
Happy
What is your message?
What do you want people to perceive you as?
What do you want people to perceive your writings as?
Just words? Just sentences? Just thoughts?
Or do you want them to read
Real life experiences
Intense emotion and expression
Stanzas full of depth and meaning?
But here I will stop
Babbling on and on about nothing
Because in the end it is up to You
You the poet
You the reader
You the artist
To make a change
And make poetry…once again
An Art
Copyright December 2 2009, Moniquea Brown
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Do You Have An Answer?
Tell me why I can’t express my feelings
I try hard to, but they have no meaning
Am I so close-minded that I can’t tell my thoughts?
Now I have a headache from thinking….I see scattered dots
Tell me why I can’t seem to love
I try hard to but my ventures don’t seem enough
Whenever it does come my way I seem to ignore it
Then again, if it was love….wouldn’t I have noticed?
Tell me why I can’t write today
I picked up the pen, but the paper remained blank
So I began to doodle, maybe that would relax me
But in the end all I wrote was…scribble scribble, no legibility
Overall I am confused with myself
My brain goes through pandemonium on a daily basis
Maybe it’s because I myself don’t know what to do
But only a fool would admit to not ever having a clue
Sometimes I wonder if I am even sane
But what is the definition of insanity?
I really don’t feel like looking up the definition
Please leave a comment---over there
Well I guess this poem basically sums up my troubles
I still feel as if I am entrapped in a small bubble
Tossing and turning, round and about
Never seeming to settle…believe it or not
Copyright November 19 2009, Moniquea Brown
I try hard to, but they have no meaning
Am I so close-minded that I can’t tell my thoughts?
Now I have a headache from thinking….I see scattered dots
Tell me why I can’t seem to love
I try hard to but my ventures don’t seem enough
Whenever it does come my way I seem to ignore it
Then again, if it was love….wouldn’t I have noticed?
Tell me why I can’t write today
I picked up the pen, but the paper remained blank
So I began to doodle, maybe that would relax me
But in the end all I wrote was…scribble scribble, no legibility
Overall I am confused with myself
My brain goes through pandemonium on a daily basis
Maybe it’s because I myself don’t know what to do
But only a fool would admit to not ever having a clue
Sometimes I wonder if I am even sane
But what is the definition of insanity?
I really don’t feel like looking up the definition
Please leave a comment---over there
Well I guess this poem basically sums up my troubles
I still feel as if I am entrapped in a small bubble
Tossing and turning, round and about
Never seeming to settle…believe it or not
Copyright November 19 2009, Moniquea Brown
Friday, November 13, 2009
"To My Sweet Mom"
Mom,
You have been there since day one
Unlike no other person
God put it so you were my mom
You are the essence of true beauty
Your class, your sass, your disposition
All creating an individual, unique
You have the most beautiful hair
Tied with Native American blood
Too bad we couldn’t espouse that culture
Oh yeah...you thought I forgot?
You are so kind and gentle
Your eyes seem to always see what’s right
That gift must be a delight
You are so pure that you seem innocent
Your eyes say nothing but love
And luckily I am blessed to receive it
I am your youngest, the baby
Two others…though there presence
Seems a maybe
You inspire me to be better
I see you as a strong woman
Of whom I want to mimic
You have held my hand for quite some time now
Slowly releasing it so that
I can be an adult now
You have been careful with your words to me
So that there will be no hard feelings
In case one of us leaves
God forbid that that would ever happen
But blessings like this come so rare
I enjoyed the majority of it
I am so proud to say that I was created by you
An individual with such intelligence and suave
I was made in the image of You
Love you Mom!
Copyright November 2009, Moniquea Brown
You have been there since day one
Unlike no other person
God put it so you were my mom
You are the essence of true beauty
Your class, your sass, your disposition
All creating an individual, unique
You have the most beautiful hair
Tied with Native American blood
Too bad we couldn’t espouse that culture
Oh yeah...you thought I forgot?
You are so kind and gentle
Your eyes seem to always see what’s right
That gift must be a delight
You are so pure that you seem innocent
Your eyes say nothing but love
And luckily I am blessed to receive it
I am your youngest, the baby
Two others…though there presence
Seems a maybe
You inspire me to be better
I see you as a strong woman
Of whom I want to mimic
You have held my hand for quite some time now
Slowly releasing it so that
I can be an adult now
You have been careful with your words to me
So that there will be no hard feelings
In case one of us leaves
God forbid that that would ever happen
But blessings like this come so rare
I enjoyed the majority of it
I am so proud to say that I was created by you
An individual with such intelligence and suave
I was made in the image of You
Love you Mom!
Copyright November 2009, Moniquea Brown
"There Is No Other...Mom"
I hold you on such a pedestal
Your grace is so pure
You nurtured me from a baby
How could I ask for more?
You were patient with me during my upbringing
Ignoring my temper tantrums
But understanding me deep inside
You knew how long they would last
You always seem a mystery to me
You cut me so much slack
When at times it can seem you are being hard
But in the end---mom knows best
I will love you to the end
Nothing will ever part us
‘Cause being without your guidance in this life
I don’t know if I could trust
I love you because you are not a friend
You can clearly be seen as my mother
Or maybe because or your wisdom
Possible my grandmother
I am so happy I got the two for the price of one
Since I wasn’t fortunate enough to meet the latter
But as always God knew
So he combined the spirits to create the former
I almost cry when the thought of how good you are comes to mind
I couldn’t see anyone else taking the place of Mom
Love you Mom!
Copyright November 2009, Moniquea Brown
Your grace is so pure
You nurtured me from a baby
How could I ask for more?
You were patient with me during my upbringing
Ignoring my temper tantrums
But understanding me deep inside
You knew how long they would last
You always seem a mystery to me
You cut me so much slack
When at times it can seem you are being hard
But in the end---mom knows best
I will love you to the end
Nothing will ever part us
‘Cause being without your guidance in this life
I don’t know if I could trust
I love you because you are not a friend
You can clearly be seen as my mother
Or maybe because or your wisdom
Possible my grandmother
I am so happy I got the two for the price of one
Since I wasn’t fortunate enough to meet the latter
But as always God knew
So he combined the spirits to create the former
I almost cry when the thought of how good you are comes to mind
I couldn’t see anyone else taking the place of Mom
Love you Mom!
Copyright November 2009, Moniquea Brown
"I Have An Agenda That Does Not Exist"
I have an agenda
To write
But my pen
Refuses to move
I have an agenda
To sing
But my vocal cords
Refuse to move
I have an agenda
To cry
But my eyes
Refuse to water
I have an agenda
To preach
But the choir
Refuses to listen
I have an agenda
To teach
But my class
Refuses to attend
have an agenda
To better myself
But society
Refuses to allow me
I have an agenda
To change
But the world
Refuses to forgive
I have an agenda
To be proactive
But I
Refuse to…..
Copyright November 2009, Moniquea Brown
*This poem is basically about people who always point the fingers at others and claim that “this” and “that” won’t allow them to succeed. But, in reality, the problem resides within their motivation…which there is lack of.
To write
But my pen
Refuses to move
I have an agenda
To sing
But my vocal cords
Refuse to move
I have an agenda
To cry
But my eyes
Refuse to water
I have an agenda
To preach
But the choir
Refuses to listen
I have an agenda
To teach
But my class
Refuses to attend
have an agenda
To better myself
But society
Refuses to allow me
I have an agenda
To change
But the world
Refuses to forgive
I have an agenda
To be proactive
But I
Refuse to…..
Copyright November 2009, Moniquea Brown
*This poem is basically about people who always point the fingers at others and claim that “this” and “that” won’t allow them to succeed. But, in reality, the problem resides within their motivation…which there is lack of.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A Higher Power
Take me higher
to your kingdom
Your love is all I need
Release the pain and misery that I feel
Who would have thought that you were by me all along
Holding my hand and protecting me in thie world
Cleanse my body
Cleanse my soul
Relax my mind
Make me yours
You are divine
You are pure
Transcend my spirit
To accompany yours
Can I hear you, no
Can I see you, no
But I can feel you
And I can breathe you
You are my purpose
Of which I've always known
He took away my eyes
But, Lord you gave me yours
Cleanse my body
Cleanse my soul
Relax my mind
Make me yours
You are divine
You are pure
Transcend my spirit
To accompany yours
Without knowledge or will
He took my life
Raping me of my innocence
of which I subconsciously reflected your light
But with wings
I am now able to soar
Alpha, Omega
Take me home
Cleanse my body
Cleanse my soul
Relax my mind
Make me yours
You are divine
You are pure
Transcend my spirit
To accompany yours
Copyright November 11 2009, Moniquea Brown
to your kingdom
Your love is all I need
Release the pain and misery that I feel
Who would have thought that you were by me all along
Holding my hand and protecting me in thie world
Cleanse my body
Cleanse my soul
Relax my mind
Make me yours
You are divine
You are pure
Transcend my spirit
To accompany yours
Can I hear you, no
Can I see you, no
But I can feel you
And I can breathe you
You are my purpose
Of which I've always known
He took away my eyes
But, Lord you gave me yours
Cleanse my body
Cleanse my soul
Relax my mind
Make me yours
You are divine
You are pure
Transcend my spirit
To accompany yours
Without knowledge or will
He took my life
Raping me of my innocence
of which I subconsciously reflected your light
But with wings
I am now able to soar
Alpha, Omega
Take me home
Cleanse my body
Cleanse my soul
Relax my mind
Make me yours
You are divine
You are pure
Transcend my spirit
To accompany yours
Copyright November 11 2009, Moniquea Brown
Sunday, October 25, 2009
"Innocent Friendship"
When the days are dark
And the nights are cold
Feeling your intangible presence
Keeps me going
Staring at the mirror
My broken soul
Reunites its pieces
Becoming a whole
Even when you are not near
You support me thoroughly
I feel you care
Our friendship is lovely
We could never be
Since our lives are so different
But I am happy
Knowing we are not committed
Our love is ironic
If that is the word
Trying to describe us
We have no need for
But me--you and I
We see through the glass
Of which no one else notices
They don’t see the other half
I love you for you
You love me for me
But honestly, I ask my self
Then why can’t we be
You must understand to love
You must learn to trust
One without the other
Disaster will be a must
But we don’t have that problem
Our friendship is so easy
Or maybe I only see it…
Superficially
With or without you
I will make life a joy
But knowing that I have you
I can avoid unnecessary turmoil
I know you don’t want to trust
But I want to love
I know I don’t want to care
But still you remain here
I am so happy that I found you
You brighten my day
Even if it’s not cloudy or rainy
I want you to stay.
And the nights are cold
Feeling your intangible presence
Keeps me going
Staring at the mirror
My broken soul
Reunites its pieces
Becoming a whole
Even when you are not near
You support me thoroughly
I feel you care
Our friendship is lovely
We could never be
Since our lives are so different
But I am happy
Knowing we are not committed
Our love is ironic
If that is the word
Trying to describe us
We have no need for
But me--you and I
We see through the glass
Of which no one else notices
They don’t see the other half
I love you for you
You love me for me
But honestly, I ask my self
Then why can’t we be
You must understand to love
You must learn to trust
One without the other
Disaster will be a must
But we don’t have that problem
Our friendship is so easy
Or maybe I only see it…
Superficially
With or without you
I will make life a joy
But knowing that I have you
I can avoid unnecessary turmoil
I know you don’t want to trust
But I want to love
I know I don’t want to care
But still you remain here
I am so happy that I found you
You brighten my day
Even if it’s not cloudy or rainy
I want you to stay.
"Why Can't We Be?"
You inspire me
I motivate you
Then ask yourself
Why can’t we be?
When the winters are cold
And the summers are hot
Together we give each other comfort
Eliminating all odds
When your dreams are crushed
And you need to be consoled
Here I will come
With open arms
Today it may pour
Tomorrow it may flood
But here I have built a ship
Together we will float atop the rush
The darkness will come
And the light will cease
But having me by your side
You have no need to grieve
Even if we cannot eat
And we have no place to live
I will provide you with a home
Even if in reality it does not exist
If you must go to war
And I am left a widow
Not a soul will know
That I suffer
If sickness manifest
And your body is no longer strong
Not a pleasure will I need
That isn’t your own
But I sit here and I wonder
If this message you will receive
Being that for many days
I have kept quiet what I feel
If you can hear me
Then talk to me
If you can feel me
Then touch me
If you know me
Then, greet me
If you love me
Then, alas why can’t we be?
I motivate you
Then ask yourself
Why can’t we be?
When the winters are cold
And the summers are hot
Together we give each other comfort
Eliminating all odds
When your dreams are crushed
And you need to be consoled
Here I will come
With open arms
Today it may pour
Tomorrow it may flood
But here I have built a ship
Together we will float atop the rush
The darkness will come
And the light will cease
But having me by your side
You have no need to grieve
Even if we cannot eat
And we have no place to live
I will provide you with a home
Even if in reality it does not exist
If you must go to war
And I am left a widow
Not a soul will know
That I suffer
If sickness manifest
And your body is no longer strong
Not a pleasure will I need
That isn’t your own
But I sit here and I wonder
If this message you will receive
Being that for many days
I have kept quiet what I feel
If you can hear me
Then talk to me
If you can feel me
Then touch me
If you know me
Then, greet me
If you love me
Then, alas why can’t we be?
Saturday, October 10, 2009
About the Author
Hello! My name is Moniquea Brown and I began writing when I was really young. Well, not too young maybe around 10 years of age. Of course, it started off with me just going into school writing contest, but then I realized that this was something that I actually enjoyed doing and I wanted to continue. My works are very diverse when it comes to topics so hopefully I can keep everyone interested, or it could backfire on me and I won’t retain my initial audience. But, just let me know, I have no problems with doing an encore. I was sexually assaulted when I was 11 and my dad left me and my mom when I was 10. So you may want to take that into consideration when reading my works. But, back to what I was saying...
I am very charismatic and fun. I always look at the bigger picture (that's why I was never good at details in school, but it always paid off when I took the finals). I am very adventurous and I love trying new things, not anything too extreme, but I made a bet with myself that I would do something extreme before I turned 25. To be a writer, I don't write very often…hardly ever. And maybe because of my Aquarius nature, sometimes when I do write I never seem to finish the work (at least not in the same day)! I have so many unfinished works that I should write a book of unfinished works! Hmm…I think I will do that! Or not, the book probably won’t sell.
I also write a few sad stories on topics such as: prostitution, drug use, rape, and homicide. But to sum this all up; I love positive and negative feedback. So, don’t be afraid to send me an e-mail! My e-mail address is moniquea.brown@ymail.com. I hope you enjoy my works!
I am very charismatic and fun. I always look at the bigger picture (that's why I was never good at details in school, but it always paid off when I took the finals). I am very adventurous and I love trying new things, not anything too extreme, but I made a bet with myself that I would do something extreme before I turned 25. To be a writer, I don't write very often…hardly ever. And maybe because of my Aquarius nature, sometimes when I do write I never seem to finish the work (at least not in the same day)! I have so many unfinished works that I should write a book of unfinished works! Hmm…I think I will do that! Or not, the book probably won’t sell.
I also write a few sad stories on topics such as: prostitution, drug use, rape, and homicide. But to sum this all up; I love positive and negative feedback. So, don’t be afraid to send me an e-mail! My e-mail address is moniquea.brown@ymail.com. I hope you enjoy my works!
"I Accept but I Reject"
Touch my body
Hear my pain
Kissing my lips
Drives me insane
Feeling the thunders
Of my heartbeats inside
Increasing his rhythm
Ignoring my cries
Black and white
Red and blue
Make me move
Closer to you
Rub my back
Kiss my neck
Remove the fear
When You draw me near
Love is like poetry
It can never properly be explained
Ambiguity is a given, there's no wrong answer here
But pain....pain can be defined
And Ohhhh sooo many words
All amounting to one meaning:
It will always burn
Black and white
Red and blue
Make me move
Closer to you
Rub my back
Kiss my neck
Remove the fear
When you draw me near
All I have to give you
Is what I don't have
Everything that you want
I seem to lack
I wish I was good enough for you
To where you could call me your own
But the removal of my innocence
Has left me torn
Black and white
Red and blue
Make me move
Closer to you
Rub my back
Kiss my neck
Remove the fear
When you draw me near
Copyright 2009, Moniquea Brown
Hear my pain
Kissing my lips
Drives me insane
Feeling the thunders
Of my heartbeats inside
Increasing his rhythm
Ignoring my cries
Black and white
Red and blue
Make me move
Closer to you
Rub my back
Kiss my neck
Remove the fear
When You draw me near
Love is like poetry
It can never properly be explained
Ambiguity is a given, there's no wrong answer here
But pain....pain can be defined
And Ohhhh sooo many words
All amounting to one meaning:
It will always burn
Black and white
Red and blue
Make me move
Closer to you
Rub my back
Kiss my neck
Remove the fear
When you draw me near
All I have to give you
Is what I don't have
Everything that you want
I seem to lack
I wish I was good enough for you
To where you could call me your own
But the removal of my innocence
Has left me torn
Black and white
Red and blue
Make me move
Closer to you
Rub my back
Kiss my neck
Remove the fear
When you draw me near
Copyright 2009, Moniquea Brown
"A Moment In Time"
“A Moment in Time” by Moniquea Brown
I watch you as you enter the room
Your presence is almost mystical
I greet your luminous eyes with a feeling of nostalgia
Silently remembering the days when we once were
We both have grown to be successful individuals
Although sometimes I feel that I have failed
Looking at you with your many perfections and then
Looking at myself with my many imperfections
This couldn’t have been a perfect match
You wink at me as you sit down behind the desk
Sometimes I wonder if you could read my thoughts
But if you could, would you mistake them for pleasure?
Because without you my life has long been a distress
I walk out the door to try and avoid looking into your face again
Seeing you so happy and me feeling the opposite
Sometimes I wonder if my heart can be unattached
But then again I don’t think the feelings will be relaxed
I can feel a presence walking up behind me so I turn to face whatever it was
Now I am standing in the eyes of the beholder
I stand there and hope, wondering if maybe you could hear my thoughts
But all I get is “You left your purse!”, oh love what have you done.
Copyright 2009, Moniquea Brown
I watch you as you enter the room
Your presence is almost mystical
I greet your luminous eyes with a feeling of nostalgia
Silently remembering the days when we once were
We both have grown to be successful individuals
Although sometimes I feel that I have failed
Looking at you with your many perfections and then
Looking at myself with my many imperfections
This couldn’t have been a perfect match
You wink at me as you sit down behind the desk
Sometimes I wonder if you could read my thoughts
But if you could, would you mistake them for pleasure?
Because without you my life has long been a distress
I walk out the door to try and avoid looking into your face again
Seeing you so happy and me feeling the opposite
Sometimes I wonder if my heart can be unattached
But then again I don’t think the feelings will be relaxed
I can feel a presence walking up behind me so I turn to face whatever it was
Now I am standing in the eyes of the beholder
I stand there and hope, wondering if maybe you could hear my thoughts
But all I get is “You left your purse!”, oh love what have you done.
Copyright 2009, Moniquea Brown
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)