Kissing You

I dreamt of kissing you last night... not once...but a recurring dream... every time I woke up and then closed my eyes... there were your lips... pressed against mine. You were crying tears... I was wiping them away.... I stepped back...you begged me not to pull away... but to stay... Right there in your embrace.... where I could place my lips to yours...more and more you asked me for...

I can't tell you... I'm shy or nervous I guess.. so I'll just post it and hope it reaches your eyes cuz it has reached my mind.
#kisses

Regal

 The rain outside kept me in.

Last week it was the heat.

Long poised strides 

in my element.

Refusing distraction 

from irrelevance. 

Where is my Fire?

Rejecting embellishment

waiving stability

&

emotional intelligence

shaving

non-functional

ornamental adornments...

another's desire.

take these back...

&

Where's my Crown?

Gold leaves

trims the reef.

Crown of Hearts

and Peace

Blue

 Middle Ocean 

Deep

the Still

the Calm

the Crashing Waves

at Dusk

the Quiet Clash

Clap & Splash

at Dawn

supplies my applause.

When you look at the stars

do they scream at you too?

Is whats said in reality

said in Dreams too?

15th floor

had the best view...

I wonder even now..

How is that true?

If only you knew.

Life's intent 

wasn't to confuse.

Still danger hangs,

dangles and swings,

clinging to things that 

your'e fully aware

you cant use.

It's not news

yet  & still 

you 

may be tempted 

to choose.

Neither is that new.

Neither is it just you.

I say keep those 

&

Where is my Robe?

Bare and undressed

Scarred and upset.

The halls are large and

un-swept.

The grass is high and unkempt.

It's 4 am I've not slept.

Indulging in unrest

Is it ok to be good

even without being your best?

Cant breathe out your nose

  with a knee on your neck.

Is it ok to speak

without showing respect?

no smoke no mirrors 

still I reflect...

Where's my Court?

I speak in closed circles 

to my Red Arrow Warriors and Chiefs.

Discuss and prescribe

where the walls are weak.

Reading songs, 

letters, 

proverbs

& prophecies

64 books

research and repeat.

TEMPLE CLEAN

Golden Temple India

TEMPLE CLEAN

At the house of your estranged, dead wife I dined. My mother and I were welcomed to stay as long as we wanted or so the invitation read. At the door a knock. I stand to look out of the peephole. Now my stomach turns.  Two scantily clad women then you. You in all your misery... stumbling.. smiling... enjoying the decadence of your debauchery. Your presence is unexpected and unwelcome. Now the doorbell. Look at the smile you wear. Disgusted I ask "What brings you here?" Recognizing the voice of the little girl whose body you violated, whose trust you earned so very undeserved, whose life you turned upside and out with your perversion...  your smile widens. My stomach stopped turning and rage began burning. I now realized... You are the devil... it wasn't the action of violating my body that thrilled you...it was the action of corrupting my soul...not the tarnishing of my temple... but the rusting of its contents was your true pleasure. If it's contents were destroyed by vandals and scandal then it could be a home for any old transient, derelict and harlot. From your point of view it would make your type worthy of entry. I opened the door. Did you somehow believe that little girl was still I...all these years later? Did you think that the single bullet remaining in my .38 wasn't especially reserved for you? Where'd your smile go after I pulled the trigger and let the pistol blow? Your women didn't weep. Your women didn't run.  They took decent clothes from their bags, dressed, smiled and turned away. My mother runs to the door. Behind me I hear her voice: "What have you done sweet child of mine?" My response as I stepped over your lifeless body gripping her right hand while the left covered her face in shock: "The world a favor." Your smile vanished as did the tarnish of my temple as did the corruption of it's contents...as did the pain of the memories. 

The Iron Necklace

I'd come to this place of the past a visitor. Happy to have traveled back, honored by the experience. Not knowing the taste would leave me full. At the start a man of fame caught my eye. When passing I requested his autograph. He sensed I was from a different time.. that my dignity was in tact. He winced at my request... grimaced at my skin...wrote his name on the thin piece of paper; I smiled. Seeing my smile the man of fame tore the paper in two threw it to the ground spit on it and said: "I don't care about you." 

I opened my mouth and sharply told him that he meant nothing to me. I wanted to tell him that his hate was foolish, unfounded and ignorant but before my tongue lashed my tour guide grabbed my arm pulling me away; begging my pardon. As quickly as it happened was as quickly as I forgot it. But the past would not. "We must leave this town quickly" my guide says "get you someplace safe." 

 At the local market beside the building there were trucks all the drivers leaving soon. I boarded a truck with a man named Irie, who never spoke to me, only my guide asking: "Where are you headed?" "To the gym" my guide announced. The road offered no scenery. Just streets surrounded by blank white space as an empty page. 

I entered the gym firstly teeming with life a ball game in progress. Food offered at the door I accepted my delicious tomato and cheese sandwiches wrapped in wax paper with picnic patterns. Holding my sandwich I was asked to play the game as 1 team was short a person. I didn't have time  to officially accept as the ball was passed to me at the same time the question was posed. I caught the ball that smashed my sandwich but carefree I shot my jumper. As I came down from the air I brought down all the smiles in the room or so I thought. Smiling social faces were now silent, broken spirits with eyes full of fear. Every single body moved from the court  Every head bowed down eyes to the ground.  I sensed danger not looking around to lay eyes on it, I sought cover behind a tall curtain of a window in the gym. Through the curtain I could see two figures walking toward me. One with brown skin and poor mans clothing holding what looked like a medieval style helmet but there was nothing where the head should be. Just a neck piece of iron with a crank on the outside. The other a man white of skin in regal bright purple gold and blue cloth and the shoes of a Jester. Wearing a face that showed repugnance for all his eyes could see. His name was known as Justice.  I took a bite of my smashed sandwich and watched as Justice motioned for his hound man to pull back the curtain. As the curtain pulled back the smile of the brown hound man widened...a face like that of a shark. Teeth small and sharp... eyes that darkened and widened ... a shark who had just smelled blood. Frozen paralyzed with fear... simultaneously curious: "What do you want with me?!" The whole room gasp at my outspoken spirit. Justice didn't flinch. The brown man began to pant like a dog excited. "3 minutes." the Justice said while holding up 3 fingers. The brown hound man took the neck piece and placed it over my head and around my neck it went. Neck stiff I looked for my guide, with only my eyes, who was now gone. The brown hound man cranked the handle slowly and the length of the neck piece elongated stretching my neck. My chin from my shoulders further and further. Until it became almost impossible to speak. My tongue lodged between my teeth. Forced biting down I could taste my own blood. Jaws forced closed I moaned loudly in pain. Justice motioned to the brown man to stop cranking. "Do you have something to say?" Asked Justice. I couldn't speak ... I couldn't nod my head. I tapped the Iron Necklace. Justice standing with crossed legs and hands behind his back, a stoic countenance, lifted 1 hand to motion to unwind the crank just a little so I may speak.

"You've got the wrong person... I'm a visitor to this time. I committed no crimes." 

"Did you not offend a man of fame today near the market?"... looking down at his watch he declared: "2 minutes" with 2 fingers in the air and motioned for his hound man to crank the necklace to induce pain. I felt as if this time he just continued to crank. I could feel my head separating from off my body. The pain was unbearable I lost consciousness. 

I woke in a line. In clothes that weren't mine. Being yelled at to rise and enter the coop. Slave quarters. When I entered my consciousness separated from my body. I was now watching as they took her into her small room covered in feathers and hay with barbed chicken wire as the only walls and doors. She who was once I found a full plate of delicious food placed on a ledge for consumption: Mashed potatoes, yams and a savory meat. She who was once I ate her fill as she spoke openly of the strength instilled in her by her mother. A green bottle of sweet wine she who was once I began to drink. The consciousness knew that wine was not to be drank to enjoy with dinner but to soothe the pain after whippings. She who was once I was clueless. The wine made she who was once I jovial enough to sing. The pain it would soon bring. In the hallway of the large coop a fat black mistress watched on hating every note. She removed her whip from her holder and cracked it. Vowing to break my spirit. She asked if she who was once I thought of myself as "Special?...I'll fix that." she declared! She marched off to prepare my whipping post. She who was once me was careless...careless and drunk. But 2 small men raised in the coop, that stunted their growth, emerged from around the corner of the coop hall speaking of the mistress one said: "The whipping isn't over until she's done." The other said: "And shes not done until she sleeps."

The White Tower

In the old gold car I rode as a passenger. With company bad for me.. destination unknown but certain to be dangerous. Parked in front a tall white tower and left alone.

When the taking was long down came a devil-man to thieve. He reached inside the old car to take whatever he could and took me. Still I protected the cars contents. I don't remember the ride to the 12th floor. I just remember the room. Familiar,  dresser and bed pictures on the wall. 3 visitors came and went whilst a devil-man described me. Was I hostage? No,  but had I stayed I knew I'd regret not speaking up. "I need the elevator!" I spoke. "This way" I was told... I boarded the crowded lift and pressed a floor.. strictly from fear 12 ...the floor I was on. The light turned off. 8 was pressed by a rider then 4 was pressed by a rider then 1 was pressed by me. The elevator passed all floors and went straight to 1. But the doors did not open. The elevator began to malfunction up to 8 it went... back to 4 but the doors never opening. Then higher than 12 or ever before. I felt the elevator snap and then swing. Everyone was calm but me. The devil-man who took me high up spoke of my character while we took the elevated journey: "She is wise, kind and fat."

The devil-man was  7ft and large.. I said to him "You have no room to speak"... he laughed. The elevator plummeted to the basement floor finally opened the doors to a dark shaft room. Walls and floor painted black. The riders filed out with no fear. I followed the crowd into a diner I appeared. My bad company called my name. Surrounded by food and 8 African women. "I thought you were dead or I thought you left and took my prized possessions...I didn't care. Lets finish the meal and leave." And so we did. Me in the 3rd row with 2 others. My bad company in the second row with 3 others

And the front row with 3 including the driver.  Bad company talked to the women on his right who danced for him.  I spoke to the woman on his left who sat in front of me. And the woman on my right engaged a stare. Reviewing pictures as we drove to our next stop that I had hoped was home.  The woman in front of me sharing pictures then introduced every one to me. The first 2 I knew the 3rd in the first row I didn't. The 2 on the right of Bad Company I didn't. The 2 to my right I didn't.  The night was dark but the streets were lit up by signs and clean from rainfall. We drove inside a lounge where the top of the car pulled back. The live music filled the room the audience sang along to the cheerful song and swayed to the reggaeton. A New World. Was it safe? As everyone exited the car... I stayed put.

Today

I miss you today

& I wish I didn’t.

Nothing to miss,

because

we’ve been finished.

&

you have replenished,

your energy.

Free of me

to love again.

Quickly

you moved along.

How did you forget me?

I envy your savvy

or are you just faking?

Is it real amazing?

That new love

from that stranger?

It’s stranger,

to see you

with someone new

who I know

Don’t know you

quite like I do.

Just admit that

what we had is untouchable.

Nope

you’d rather

work your

muscles and flex

your new

prototype.

She’s cool

But she’s

not me

just

a

cheap carbon copy

A mockery

a giant love to a jockey.

Yes, I am still cocky.

You loved it

when I’d kiss

and sing to your body.

I miss that most.

Can’t find that in everybody.

If I had

just one last

time with you though

love I’m sure

I’d light all my candles

And let all my love adorn you.

Just hold you in my eyes,

Kiss all over your face.

Then place your hand

on my heart

so you can feel

It beats for you still…

My Darling…

Nikki

Poor Babies

                               

                                                       

Painting by: Vitus Shell

What our children must think?

Scrubbing their little black cheeks and praying for pink.

Though they love their skin...

They somehow figured they've sinned...

Being fed to them 

are images of 

a lineage of 

slavery.

And every attempt at positive change, was seen as bravery...

& a threat to the powers that be...

Poor poor babies...

To see the death of innocent men...

To fear those put in place to protect you because of the color of their skin.

Poor babies of all the innocent...

Poor baby to the ignorant...

The ones who don't see that end of the day we are all human...

Poor baby to the mothers in tears...

Poor baby to the Black men living in fear...

Poor baby to the universal earth. Because we groan in pain together...

Waiting for better weather...

And praying to stick together...

Heavier & Heavier the load by the day ..

& some of us stop even wanting to pray because we havent seen change...but don't do that.  It's the only way. 

& even though the sky is blue & the trees green, we see in grey.

Seated in gloom....facing  imminent doom...

Prominent on the horizon coming soon...

Poor black babies

Poor white babies
Poor babies
We all are children.
POOR WORLD.

Kings & Queens

                             

King & Queen thoughts... Heavy lies the head that wears the Crown.... THE KING AND QUEEN CAN HAVE THEIR OWN KINGDOMS FOR INDIVIDUALY THEY ARE STRONG....BUT...The KING DESIRES A QUEEN...AND A QUEEN DESIRES A KING.... Queens  have their needs met by their Kings. KINGS  handle THE KINGDOMS affairs properly and carefully. Always considering those at the mercy of his rule....Especially the Royal Family. The  Monarchs show one another the utmost respect...The Queen is the Kings confidant an source of refreshment. THE Queen is the Kings soft.. supple...sweet dose of intense passion and love. The Queen is His Rest and Reward...The King is the Queens security, provider and protector. They rule their Kingdom Harmoniously, Lovingly with the intent of Championing all they set out to accomplish...in every aspect of Life

Real Love

Loves not real.

Its just an idea

its preconceived notions

mixed with how u feel

how u feel about the person  who ur trying again with

how u feel about the ex who you went through heaven and hell with...

what u see others either conquer or lose..what u see others either cherish or abuse.

Some of u may disagree...im open to listen if you can answer me...

Is it real like wind?...there though you cant see..cant touch it but its influence is seen visibly..

refreshing as a cool breeze..during a still summers night heat. That breeze... refreshing as it may be.. its just a tease sent to please momentarily and quickly it leaves. Then Returns the HEAT.
Even if that breeze carried an irresistible frangrance of Rain...
Heavy in the aire clouds thick and threatening. Tell me is this love thing like rain?

Every drip drop sounds like music to our ears..sweet lyrics catered to your fears...

soothing...moving you to a sound sleep...
but careful dont dream too deep....
careful dont enjoy the fruit... its too sweet...
the moment you taste it you are guaranteed to weep....
its hard waking back up to reality...

Seems to me love is fleeting... not something you get to keep...

Am I right or am i right?  Love just made a left. Im not surprised... Meanwhile I'm stuck at this light. Trying to get my entire life. While I watch my ex take a new "wife".  Did u feel that knife? Is that what loves like? Cant move with no air..like a flat on a bike.. like a concert, no mike..like the night with no pretty bright lites what some call stars...

"What we called ours" ...is this what love is? Speaking in past tense... talking about back when... but as memories fade..it feels like it never happened..

or a distant memory..foggy and jaded..? Was it ever Love if my exes has already faded???

If the whole love ordeal is real ..and not an idea ..then its rarely ideal, and quiclky loosing appeal..yet people are choosing it still....people are ready to try again...ready to heal...ready to feel. Dispite all the pitfalls...despite all the work...despite all the setbacks... unwillingly some people fall...cause deeper the love  the deeper it hurts on that inevitable day it is snatched away...

or revealed that there was never a table for 2... the only one in love is you. Love is for fools.
In my point of view.

-Vannique

Solitude is My Fortitude

Solitude is my Fortitude-Vannique written @ Deep Sea

The Glass is Half Full

Not too long ago, I was thinking the opposite way. I could recount reason after reason to be dissatisfied with life. When you dwell on it enough they can add up and seem insurmountable. That moment in time was a real low point. I had turned into a "Negative Nancy". Every time I looked at the glass I saw it half empty.

Its the worst way to view life. No, I didn't have all my wants. Then I realized that wants are a constant. There will always be another want. It's not greed, it's just facts. Say if you wanted a vacation, so you take one. Could you honestly say that once you return home you'll never want another vacation? Usually if the vacation was good you want go right back! There will always be wants. They will evolve as we do. They will change as we do. You don't want the same things you wanted 10 years ago do you? In short, I realized the meeting of wants are fleeting and are never completely able to be met, as they change and the list has constant additions as we subtract the wants we satisfied.

With help of loved ones, I came to appreciate that I had my needs. And that's what counts. Most needs are universal: food, shelter, and a way to facilitate your needs i.e a job. Admittedly, needs do depend on the person. Personally, I had all I needed to be content. I also realized I was blessed to have more than the bare minimum. I had shelter, a newly built villa, never before leased. I own a car that, at the end of the day, affords me independence. Sure, it's almost 15 years old with over 100,000 miles on it but it's paid for. (Ok well maybe I do need a new car.) All awkwardly truthful jokes aside though, it gets the job done. Lastly, I do have my health. At this very moment I'm with a dear friend visiting her daughter in the hospital. As I watch this family interact in love I remember something that I never want to forget: it could be worse, it can always be worse and for someone, somewhere it is. Undoubtedly someone is hungry, homeless, lacking transportation, lacking gainful employment, lacking family, lacking love, lacking the ability to see a way to fulfill their needs, lacking the will to even live.

Think positive, be grateful and remember it can always be worse.

My glass may be filled with water and not wine. It may be only filled to the halfway line. It may be in a cup of plastic and not glass. "Vannique why is it you smile?" you may ask. Well halfway empty my glass is not...its hallway full, close to being filled to the top. Don't waste time focused on what you have not. Focus on appreciating what you've got.

Expressions and Dreams

I'm certain that I'm not the only one who thinks the monotony of day-to-day life is painstaking. Who would not want to wake up one day in a beautiful paradise? I'm talking across the world, where they've never dreamed they would be. I guess those of us who have done it aren't as enthusiastic about it. For those of us who haven't...you have no passport... and if you do have a passport.. not one stamp to speak of.  We, yes I'm including myself, are dying for it. We are literally dying to live! What joy is there in that? None. So what should we do?

Find a way to live our dreams to support our passions. Me myself I'm what I like to call an Expressionist. I love anything that I have to create music, poetry, painting, photography. I just love to express myself artistically. But all my life I've been told ,erroneously, that I need to keep my feet on the ground and my head out the clouds. While it's true you cannot daydream all day long, if you don't dream at all, think of it... you're not getting good sleep. Have you ever given up on the dream? That's what I call a nightmare. No matter how hard I try I can't give up on my dream of being a professional, meaning paid well to do it, Expressionist. The 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. job scene, or 5 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. in my case, is truly not for me. It dulls the spirit. It kills the inner creator but it sure does pay the bills. I want nothing more then to travel go places I've never been, be inspired by those places to create something new fresh and positive. For now I'll keep dreaming there has got to be a way because there is a will.