The Lover


The Lover

Writing is the neglected Lover who calls me away from a stifling my 13 hour workdays.  It is the hunger that demands to be fed.  The passion that must be satisfied.

The dilemma: money vs. true love.  I need the money but I must feed my soul.  Only when I answer the voice of my muse am I truly engaged in this life.

My fervor is akin to amusing myself with dilettantes whilst the face of my Lover is ever before me.  The Lover is the orgasm I seek on a nightly basis.

I feel his long slender fingers playing over my body like the keyboard on a piano.

The music he produces brings an exotic mixture of pain and ecstasy.  It’s an addiction that dominates my mind, soul, spirit and body.  A craving only he can satisfy.

Only his lean taut body, his touch can bring me to spiritually fulfilling orgasmic pleasure when after hours of lovemaking I lock my legs around his torso in those final eternal moments of sensual paradise.

Sometimes he comes to me on the wings of a night bird. A beautiful dark & twisted fantasy.  A Midnight Dream so real you’ve only exchanged one dimension for another.  Whilst the full moon reigns I pass through many long and varied portals.  I taste the sounds of evening on your lips.  Feel the words slipping through fingers.  The crested muse rides the galactic wave gliding silently o’er my cerebral universe seeking a docking station whereby I may be subsumed into His flesh.

Souls Intertwined


Souls Intertwined

Today is the day we graduate from the school of hard knocks, cast aside fear and tell that special someone we Love them.  Life is short, so let us break free from the prison of fear and hold tight to those who love us.  Now is the time for hugs & kisses.  Now is the time for consummation of a love long sought & desired.  My beloved Dad had a saying, “He who hesitates is lost”.  How long will we deny the Blessing that God has put before us afraid to take that leap of faith?  Only realizing our mistake when you see God’s blessing in another’s arms.

My girlfriend’s death has made me more serious about my relationship with God and with people.  It’s time for me to stop being afraid to share my feelings with those I love be they family or friends.  The love of money and material things is the root of loneliness.  Can we put our arms around money?  Can it hug us and speak life to us in times of despair?  Will money warm our beds at night? Will money celebrate our joys and comfort us in times of grief. No.  Only another human being can do that.  So what are we all waiting for? What is our relationship with God but our lives shared and intertwined.

The Awakening has come!  Our Redeemer has come and we are saved.

We’ve through off the yoke of suppression!  Our souls begin to arise and join one another in complete harmony.  Exalting with each soulful eye gaze. Lips grazing up cheeks.  Smooth manicured brown hands imbuing the memory facial feature. Long narrow fingers playing my body like an instrument.

Love and Joy are the rays of light at the end of a dark and winding roadway. Joy overcomes our sorrow with the promise of a rainbow after the storm.

Holy Week Reflections on the Love Poem of Solomon and Queen Sheba


Thoughts on Love, Romance and the Song of Solomon

The Inspired Word of God written by man.

As February and Valentine’s Day 2011 came to a close a few months ago my thoughts brought me to the Old Testament book, the Song of Solomon.  Why would erotica be part of the Old Testament canon? But the Song of Solomon is more than just erotica; it is a love poem, a testament to love, desire and sexual passion between a Black man and a Black woman. However the Song of Solomon transcends race and/or ethnic group.

The Song of Solomon almost did not make it into the Biblical canon.  However its inclusion proves that spirituality and human sexuality can co-exist. It puts to rest many theologians prudish or restrictive claims of sex defined in terms of sin or lust.  The joining together of man and woman in erotic love or pleasure is pleasing to God and is one of the highest forms of praise to our Creator.

Most Christians have been taught that this book is an allegory, a representation of Christ and the church, which could be one interpretation, after all I’m no Bible scholar, and for me the sensual descriptions of the lover’s bodies reveal its true nature.  There are many reflections or mirrors in which to view the verses.  Yes most for Believers, Jesus is the ultimate Lover of our Souls and Spirits.  Truly Jesus love for his followers shows him as the embodiment of his redemptive names, the Lily of the Valley, and the Rose of Sharon, our Bright and shining Star, our Balm in Gilead.  Jesus, the various worldwide prophets who laid the pathway before him and those who came after each singularly expressed God’s love for all his creation.

The lyrical verses found in the Song of Solomon celebrate romantic love.  The way her face, breasts and stomach are captured in vivid detail by the Beloved leans more towards Eros than agape.  The Song of Solomon is the longing of two lovers separated, yet joined desperately seeking to be physical reunited to once again ignite the flame of fervor, and quench the fires sexual craving between them.

In my mind the lovers are King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba who visited Solomon to inquire of his wisdom and as the story is sometime told, the two became lovers, their lovemaking resulting in the birth of a son once Sheba returned to Ethiopia. Yes we all know that Solomon had many wives and concubines, too numerous to count, however Sheba was different.

The Queen Sheba of Ethiopia was intellectual equal, one who not only desired wisdom but was able to communicate the wisdom, knowledge and understanding of her people, her culture to this Hebrew King, thus she became the desire of his heart.  Two minds on the same plane, not jockeying for position, become one.  When a man meets the feminine version of himself he seeks to unite bringing together one side of his mind with the other.  Solomon’s greatest error was in allowing distance and time to come between him and the woman God meant for him to reign with in this life.  Imagine how history would have been changed if these two great leaders had joined energies.  What a mighty force two people, one flesh to contend with!

Unchained Melody

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-idDbIfGvw

 

Black Unicorn Rising

Alice’s Wonderland Deconstructed


Life as a Void Consisting of Only Time and Eternity

Black Unicorn Rising

An exploration of Emptiness, Nothingness, Inner and Outer spheres/realms of being

Do women occupy the inner sphere/sanctum of purity? Is the enclosed female space a sign of sanctity whereas the open hinged male space the spirit of adventure? Are women contained by societal definitions of femininity resulting in us being “Birds in Gilded Cages”.  What is the extent of the power we have as women to define ourselves?

Katrin Sigurdardottir’s piece “Boiserie” explores many levels of existence. The enclosed room a replica in white of the Hotel de Cabris located in the Wrightsman galleries of the Met brings to mind a sense of the finite and infinite. As I observed visitors who thought they would be able to see their friends on the other side of the windows, they quickly realized the panes were security glass, meaning one could look in but not out. The mirrors in the room gave the impression of infinity by reflecting endless images. Like the worlds of many French society ladies and nobility they seemed to have everything, yet they had nothing as they were just “birds in a gilded cage” with their pleasure and privilege brought to an end with the French Revolution in 1789.  This first walled in room gives a sense of arrested development. Its progression halted within the pure white room encased in what appears to be rather dingy plywood.

Viewing this exhibit is like looking into a surreal kaleidoscope minus the rainbow, where white is not just the absence of color but has the ability to reflect all around and within it.

Because I as voyeur and viewer share the same gender as the artist this exhibit propelled me into rethinking what it means to be a woman in our society.  Gender has been defined as a social/cultural construct.  Gender can be said to be the attributes and aspects which society says make up the male and the female.  Women even women of wealth and privilege who resided in the royal courts of Europe have always been considered inferior beings.

How are we taught to see masculinity and femininity in our society?  John Berger in Ways of Seeing, writes that, “A man’s presence suggests what he is capable of doing to you or for you.  His presence may be fabricated, in the sense that he pretends to be capable of what he is not.  But the pretence is always towards a power, which he exercises on others.

By contrast, a woman’s presence expresses her own attitude to herself, and defines what can and cannot be done to her.  Her presence is manifest in her gestures, voice, opinions, expressions, and clothes, chosen surroundings, taste – indeed there is nothing she can do which does not contribute to her presence.  Presence for a woman is so intrinsic to her person that men tend to think of it as an almost physical emanation, a kind of heat or smell or aura.” (p 45-46)

A woman’s space like that depicted by Sigurdardottir’s white room replica of the Hotel de Cabris, is closed and everything about her is directed inward.  Men keep her physically, financially, and emotionally.  Women’s gestures, attitudes and social discourse has been developed and defined within very narrow parameters.  However not only does she watch herself but she watches herself being observed.  She becomes both the subject and object of the male gaze.  As Berger says, she is both the surveyor and the surveyed (p. 46).  In Berger’s definition, men act, women appear (p. 47).

This brings up the issue of stratification of different types of social classes of women.  Women young and old often seek to emulate or embody the concept of glamour.  The behaviors of movie starlets, models, entertainers, and socialites no matter how vulgar, demeaning or degrading have become the order of the day.  However the glamour of media stars is without substance.  Many women failing to reach these unreachable aspirations die ignoble emotional, mental and physical deaths grasping for the brass ring but coming up empty.

Even female garments are designed to create restriction.  Foundation garments such as girdles, corsets or spanx, garters, shoes too tight to be comfortable or heels too high to walk in, suggest a type of captivity.  All are attire that suggest bondage and domination.  A woman is encouraged to be a walking work of art in our society.  Fashion magazines tell her how to dress diet and style her hair.

And what of the women disenfranchised by physical, emotional abuse, domestic violence and sexual harassment.  What of their space.  Can it be recreated or refashioned to include them in the dialogue or are they forever locked out via twin fiends named shame and guilt.  I speak for those women whose space is closed, confined, where the doors are locked and the keys are in the possession of the oppressor.  Once I was a captive of my abuser who physically left me Thanksgiving Day 2007 but the damage he did to my mind, emotions, spirit and psyche has never left me.  He left his imprint on my soul.  The brutes of shame and guilt entrap me by refusing to grant me the ability to trust or love completely.  My only hope at this late stage of my life is that once I transition from this realm into whatever lies beyond I’ll be granted the gift of forgiveness.

I know my absolution will never come from the church or the so-called “body of Christ” as the “church” as a religious entity sanctions male dominance thus the abuse and violent behavior that stems from a patriarchal system.

At present I longingly look through the bars of my prison at those women given pardon and liberty all the while awaiting my next evolution into that great beyond where I will be exonerated, set free and love will once again make an appearance in my life.  But in deference to my ex-boyfriend I dedicate this song to him.

Alice in Wonderland—Bigger, Larger, Smaller, Tinier

Grace Slick & Jefferson Airplane

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WANNqr-vcx0

The extended accordion like rendition of the Hotel de Crillon room also located in the Wrightsman galleries gives a sense of expansion yet all the while the free hinges connecting the smaller and larger doorways gives the viewer the perceived ability to fold up and pack away in a suitcase this wonderful display of abstraction.

The larger doorway is a portal to the imagination, the rooms or cubes within our own minds.  Have I like Alice in the story eaten the cake labeled “Eat Me” and grown too large, then drank the potion labeled “Drink Me” and shrunk too small.  Or like the Alice in the Grace Slick song taken the pills that trick my mind into thinking I’m continually expanding and contracting.  But I like the many visitors to the exhibit calmly walk through happily appreciating the aesthetic qualities of the piece.

These two exhibits are located on the Mezzanine of the Modern Art section of the Met museum.  And just what is the definition of Mezzanine: “A partial story between two main stories of a building.   An intermediate floor between main floors of a building.”

The interpretation of the two Wrightsman rooms is an intermediate, betwixt and between what is real and what is contrived. Similar to the Alice’s trip into Wonderland where reality changes from moment to moment and fantasy is the order of the day.

Can reality be perceived only through the five senses or is reality much like sexuality and/or gender roles only a social construct which time, space and cultures eternally deconstruct and evolve to fit each generations needs.

But I have journeyed from 16th century France, where kings and queens once ruled by divine right only to be deposed through revolution into the 21st century where we read in the papers, on the web and see on television current megalomaniacs and dictators forced to cede their power and authority to the once frightened and enslaved masses who have reclaimed empowerment.  Perhaps since both pieces are constructions of wood paneling or plywood that in itself signifies the falsity of temporal riches.

These two rooms pose questions on gender, race, class and social inequalities than possible answers or solutions to aforesaid dilemmas.  Or perhaps queries that come to mind have within them never-ending possibilities and infinite resolutions.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

www.metmuseum.org

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Generational Curse? or What is the new definition of Blackness?


Generational Curse? or What is the new definition of Blackness?

 

Our young people are being fed a steady media diet of mindless drivel which they mistake for supreme wisdom, truth and as an acceptable lifestyle.  In the name of “Keeping it Real”, morals, decency and values have been cast aside.  Fame & fortune gotten through illicit or illegal means has becomes society’s new aspirations & goals.

Who do our young people worship and hold in high esteem?  Snooki, Brittany, Lilo, Kendra, any rapper, Housewives of ________ (fill in the city),  Lady Gaga, and of course the latest apostle Charlie Sheen.  Of course then there is Hip-Hop.  Music that started out as fun, a bit light hearted and fill with societal messages has now become a medium in which our people continue to degrade Black women, uphold illegal lifestyles and program our children into idiocy and foolishness.

Spirituality, Intellectualism, the pursuit of Knowledge are laughed at.  Young African Americans have a narrow view of what Black means.  Do the Millennials conceive of Black in terms of the baroque painter Juan de Pareja, Aleksander Puskin, Alexander Dumas.  Do the names Charles Drew, Hugh Masekela, Maya Angelou, Diana Sands, Diahann Carroll, Verta Mae Grosvenor, Douglas Turner Ward, Roscoe Lee Browne, Cicely Tyson, James Earl Jones, Gloria Foster, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, Gwendolyn Brooks, Langston Hughes, Josephine Baker, Calvin Lockhart, mean anything to the younger generation or have they been conscripted to the dinosaur age?  Is Malcolm X and Angela Davis just posters or pictures on T-Shirts?

Despite Disco and Blaxplotation films all the time I was growing up it was stressed and imprinted on us that we must be a credit to our race.  We must uplift the race. We had an obligation to do better.  Be better.  Education was held in high esteem.  Teachers were venerated.

Now the new order of the day is how low can I sink, how many clothes can I take off, how much illicit sex can I have and download it onto the Internet, how many curse words can I use in public, how much can I offend and disrespect our elders, in general how low can I sink to be authentically “black”.   I find it very sad to see our children not only believing but living the hype.

To Be Young, Gifted & Black

By Donny Hathaway

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QaMzGFVccSQ