Breaking News!

When I was about 12, I remember a woman, in her late 20's, coming to my home...to fight me. She knocked on my mother's front door and when I saw her, I asked her to wait a second by putting my index finger in the air....

Two minutes later I returned to the front door...with a shotgun...(true story)

Today, a 14 year old student took two guns to school and opened fire. There were four people shot...two teachers...two students and possibly one dead...the shooter. They say it may be from a self-inflicted wound. I say it's because no one was there to protect him...from himself.

Violence is taking over my city. Can I blame it on the fact that we are the poorest city in the country...maybe Can I blame it on teachers no longer willing to teach...maybe Can I blame it on teen pregnancy...probably Can I blame it on parents...definitely!

I've watch violence become the new limelight. I've watched kids sell drugs to their friend's parents and their own siblings, but tell their parents to cop from their dudes.

I've walked into schools and witnessed armed security guards taking 'high' students to the front door and unleashing them into the world..alone...where were his parents? Working...maybe At home asleep...maybe Picking him up from school...definitely not!

Is it me, or have we chosen to let law enforcement officials, teachers, and drug dealers parent our children? Have we decided that work supersedes parenting? Have we decided to be blind to what the hell is going on around us because it isn't our problem?

Cleveland, wake the hell up!

Mayor Jackson...you'll be hearing from me Parents...I hope you decide to do your job before violence hits your home...and you become a subject for my blog.

Times have changed since I pulled a piece of steel larger than me on someone...in hindsight, I had no respect for life

Now...it's seems that no one does...especially our youth!

I don't believe we have a future...with kids like these....

stay peace...if that's possible

genesis

p.s.

as I finished this...it was confirmed the 14 year old committed suicide...young white male described as being overall unhappy...may he rest in peace

Mission Accomplished...just call me Jack Bauer!

I can't even call it today...so maybe I'll talk about yesterday...

Yesterday, I purchased my son a grill...yup a grill...these, to be exact

aren't they cute on him?

NOT!!

An argument, between my husband and I, became heated when I decided my son would have these. Why, you ask.... Because he didn't want the youngster to have them and I did. His reason...because his brother will want a pair as well My reason...it is a toy and my son wanted it. I also explained to him how I will never base my decision to purchase something for one of my kids by how I think one of the other ones may react.

I left it at that...for him anyway

Now, on to my son...

These were the most hideous things I've ever seen, in my life. I can't stand 'real' grills and definitely can't stand fake ones. I knew once my son put them in his mouth, he'd see how ridiculous they look and chuck 'em in the toy box with his other 'non-cool' toys. My hope is for the $1.99 I spent for these, I will have given my son 'my take' on how grills look--silly

I will have, at least to some small degree, altered his perception of these 'hip' grills. When I showed him the picture of himself donning his grill, he thought it was the most hilarious thing....I asked him if he looked like the rappers...

He said 'yes'


*patting self on the back*

Mission accomplished!

stay peace


genesis

p.s. just for arguments sake, my daughter hated them=would never be caught dead in them SEE

my youngest has grills of his own...SEE

FLAVOR COMPLEX (poem)

FLAVOR COMPLEX

could be my chocolate ability
to liquefy and
meticulously consumes my victim
that causes you to think of me
as you sleep

could be the way your caramel dissolves
just enough to produce moisture
that leaves residuals between
my thighs
from thoughts of you

creating eyelid flutters in anticipation
of
sweet scents seeping through pores
flesh penetrating flesh
hershey hole devouring milky, honey-yellow caramel
forming puddles in places
yet to be tasted

i'm not afraid
of your caramel cracking
bleeding orgasmic testimony onto
my chocolate covered sheets
where we explored each others flavors

where the firmness
of you
reacted positively to the pliability
of me

where we mingled and moaned ourselves
into a culmination of sheer
oral pleasures

leaving a grin so secretive
it tells on itself

even before it begins
I'm wondering
when will the warmth of your
caramel-from the friction we create-
lead me to melt all over you
again



stay peace ----)Genesis

The mind of creative creatures.... (poem)

Magic In My Mind

when i slip clauses before pauses
or totally refuse to adhere to rules of written words
i find authentic freedom...
i release strings of letters...neatly pocketed

i uproot comma's, place them in slingshots
and hurl them into the atmosphere to create colorful rainbows that
brighten children's paths toward creative outlet and appreciation

i create images from deja vu
places my stories have been...fighting to be realized
giving me droplets of moments
frozen in time...some time...magic in my mind

i have no answer to where I get 'it' from
the ability to create isn't something I asked for
it's something that happens when I place pen to pad,
when I get mad,
when I'm glad, and
sadness catapults me to deny myself sleep
for the sake of a fucking word....

i am everything I'm am with this...this thing I can't describe
this thing that makes me write in-stores,
in-notebooks...I haven't paid for...yet
or tear out the pages, remove the ragged edges,
and stuff THE next literary masterpiece in my purse...close to my i.d.

this madness that makes me zone out sometimes;
mentally watching scenarios play,
wondering if something I'm
reading,
watching,
or listening to
is raping my mind; ejaculating subliminal messages rendering my brain
incompetent and beyond my control...which appears to be working

i have no idea what makes me
write and love to write,
write to read and read to love,
love to write about what i read,
and read to learn about what I love

it's impossible to explain what happens
without appearing mentally ill
but it's similar to you explaining, to me,
why you can't do it--
what happens that makes you unable to be creative?
from my perspective, I can't see how THAT is even possible...

there is no formula, rhyme, or reason
to my being able to make things up
it's really magic...in my mind

creator: God
told through: genesis

Knowing Yourself

I don't like for grown men to wear shirts with numbers on them. I believe that type of clothing is for children and young teens. As a matter of fact, I find it rather turn-offish.

I also don't like for my food to touch, the mispronunciation of words, people who talk just to talk, and commas...I don't know, it's just me...

It's very important that you learn about yourself. It's essential if you plan to become an author. It takes a while but much effort needs to be placed on this feat; even more effort than it would take to develop a good storyline.

I'm a whimsical poetess. I write complete poems at the drop of a hat and take all of five minutes to complete a piece. I tried the same thing in novel writing and, unfortunately for me, I'm not a whimsical novel writer...

I've learned that I need structure. I need to know my characters before I know my story. I need to outline plots and subplots, asl (age, sex, location for the non-internet savvy), I need to have actual pictures or dolls or cartoon characters...to refer to when I'm describing my character's traits.

I also learned that I'm not the most fashionable person so I tend to stay away from placing my characters in name brand clothing or using current terms like cougar (older women who date younger men), alls-I'm-saying-is, nameen, etc...

I know that writing, for me, is a journey. I'm in it for the long haul so it's important that I continue to get intimate with myself so that others can enjoy me; so that others can feel the sincerity in whatever they read that I've written.

The all mighty dollar looks good in my purse but my name on the shelf with the likes of Gwendolyn Brooks, Ralph Waldo Emerson, William Shakespeare, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, James Arthur Baldwin, Nikki Giovanni, bell hooks etc., means SO much more to me... This goal makes knowing myself mandatory!

I've only been novel writing for a year and there is much more in store for me!

What were some things you learned about yourself when you started writing? Writing evolves as we mature. What ways have your materials matured?

Stay peace

Things that make you say hmmmm....

I was listening to the Michael Baisden show yesterday and learned a very valuable lesson.

There are 'life' things that we naturally teach our children...that goes without explaining. But how often do you possess knowledge that you don't share with your children that could potentially keep them out of harms way?

An example used on the show was children talking to police officers. I've never thought to teach my children 'not' to answer an officers questions. Why not? Because they're officers and the magnitude of their positions causes most of us to teach our youngin's that the POLICE are good people; they are your friends...although we know that's different, at times.

We don't teach them 'not' to answer their questions because we want to believe that most are intrinsically good. The law calls for officers not to question minors without their parents being present, yet we know that most officers lay the questions on thick and quick because they know children don't want to be in trouble (well most don't), especially not with the PO-PO...so they answer and most of it is honest. This is definitely AGAINST the law...but do your children know that? I doubt it.

I'm sharing in the vision of awareness, especially when the law is concerned. While I have encouraged my children to look up to law enforcement officers, which in my hood is hard to reinforce, I have also stolen a little of reality away from them by this action. Children implicate themselves the most so we must learn, right now, how to teach them the right way...as soon as we find out what the right way is.

I had a discussion with my daughter, who hadn't heard the show, and she had so many questions about not answering her 'friends' (cops). I answered all of them the best that I could but we never lost focus on the message....

Teach your children 'not' to answer questions from the police without your presence. It's against the law and if they had anything to do with a crime in question, answering without your presence can land them with a rap sheet.

Upon discussing this with my five-year-old son, he emphatically stated "I hate the po-po"....but that's a whole 'nother discussion

Stay peace,

Genesis

Writing....

As a writer, I find it difficult to keep my mental folders in order. There is so much information available that I often become a victim of information overload and board a broken down bus at least once a week.

Board a broken down bus...what the hell is that, you ask....

It's when I have so much information to process that I stop EVERYTHING...I stop writing, I stop reading, I stop being stimulated by my environment...I even stop being a mommy, daughter, sister, friend, and wife when I board the bus. It's a must if I plan to remain sane!

Every now and again it's okay to stop the presses. I'd like to challenge that it's a MUST...at least when you are a writer. The time frame in which one chooses to take a time out differs, but the goal remains the same.

Don't get it twisted though...just because you take a day off from playing your many roles, writer included, doesn't mean that you do nothing...

It means that you give your mind some time to sort out all of the information you've gathered. Give your mind time to properly organize and file the contents of your mental folders, trash what's not needed, and make notes regarding information you need to gather in the future.

I return to 'business as usual' a little more refreshed and inspired. My senses are more keen and I feel I can conquer another week without falling apart. Information is so empowering and stifling, simultaneously....

This process happens in life, in general, as well. Maybe not as often, but it happens...

How often do you board a broken down bus?

Stay peace