.............

[september.27.2007.9:40pm]


"the gift and the curse..."
-jay-z

the time is here again.
when i begin to have those moments to myself
where i stop the motion of time around me
and i begin to contemplate my existence in
my here and now.

and here i am,
drifting off into space while
everyone around me
is making noise
that knows no end.

and i am having trouble.
trouble with deciphering my feelings,
my wants,
and to choose whether
i should protect
or succumb to such a crush.

but i dont know.
thoughts are swirling in and out.
and this is the curse of
which i was born with:
the gift of the Aquarius,
one who ponders the thought process of
pondering


and i haveyet to come
to a conclusion.






...................

child has died

[september.27.2007.7:09pm]

"remember?"
-c.james


He holds her in his strong arms while he is making love to her,
Putting her at ease.
She studies him,
Desires to succumb to him;
She is eager to please.
He holds her hand and walks with her;
Neither in front nor behind.
He refuses to become her crutch,
Vows to never lead her blind.
He is her stepping stone,
But also a monument in her life.
She needs him for laughs,
Love
And support
When her life turns strife.
So he cradles, nurtures and loves her as she matures with time.
And soon,
Her skin of adolescence is shed and
Full of praise,
He cries,
For the lost and confused child he found...
Has now died.

"iced vanilla latte"

[september.21.2007.2:45pm]

"espresso, milk, vanilla syrup and ice"
-starbucks coffee


strongly brewed
by darkly roasted,
powdered coffee beans.

such a drive
of energy,
the source of my
morning-after
vitality,
the reason for the
new reality of
my sexuality.


i take
sip one-three-five:
got me wide-eyed,
giving me
more pep in the
wake of my stride,
'cause im feeling secure,
so within it i confide,
but
in between my thighs
is where my
lust secretly moves,
lustfully hides.

next its
sip two-four-six:
some of its contents
drips on the side of
its stick
and here,
i graciously take
lengthy licks
with the flick
of my tongue.
none of my latte
should go to waste,
not a drop,
none.

its never what it seems.
cold as ice, ice as cold
and a substance of means.

it rests in my hand,
in my grasp,
in my clutch.
for i will always order
it to go
so i can
sip in the comfort
of its touch.

the espresso keeps
me going from beginning
to end,
its white milk runs thin
with syrup so thick
its texture is within.

my iced vanilla latte.
ill never stray away and
ill keep you close in mind
despite all the
fray of the he say she say.

then all of a sudden

[september.21.2007.2:00pm]

"'cause its all said and done..."

i have one less
person to worry
about and to think
i was bridging
the gap...

until he burned the bridge...

dunno
why this is a
post,
because
who
gives a shit?

outro:

[september.18.2007.1:43pm]


so in love
with you.

i love you
more than
you know.

my love
allows me
to understand
what you did
to me.

i love you.

and want nothing,
but for you to
wake up,
stop hurting
me,
you,
and be and live the person
i know you are.

him: defined

[september.19.2007.8:59am]

"no quote necessary..."

How I define, classify, identify a king is like so:

Hes a man thatll take a chance in his own stance,

Thatll acknowledge that itll take time for us to

Prosper and grow.

He moves to his own drumbeat,

From the waves of his Caesar to his swagger down to

The heels of his feet and hes confident in the skin hes in.

A man no other can beat,

Defeat,

But when he loses,

He knows he holds a place within me to retreat in a manner

Thats discreet because Im aware of his ego

And I love his street lingo and how eloquent his tongue can become.

He wont put me down, but will be the one that keeps me focused and

Steady,

But hell have constructive criticism at the ready.

He doesnt see me as an object,

But a sculpture of intelligence,

Pure beauty and soul and he wont try to fit me into his ideal woman,

A mold of his own.

Our essences are intertwined and entwined,

Tangled and entangled,

Meshed together as one and our objective isnt to fuck;

Thats not our hype

Because were sexually enticed by one anothers mentality psyche,

But when he does touch me,

Hell make the woman inside of me run free;

Free to roam,

Free to experience him inside of me and

Well become one to the rhythmic harmonizing of our two heartbeats.

Hell stroke me with his fingertips while kissing my lips

And gently caressing my hips,

Firmly gripping my thighs and staring me in my bambi-like brown eyes.

When I begin to fuss,

Hell make me calm by placing my palm into his palm

As he quietly reads me a Psalm or a passage from the Quran

And hell tell me about the places hes been,

The things hes seen

And hell tell me about the man he is and the one that he is striving to be.

Hell admit that the desires he has are unfeasible without me,

His Queen and Ill gladly accept him as my King.

This man will cause my heart to sing and hes a being of a dream,

But hes real,

Surreal

And in the flesh and having him is a feeling of a pure blissful emotion

Of being gracefully blessed.

For all eternity,

Itll be him and I,

I and he,

Never an I or a me because were a team,

A we.

you scared, n*gga?

[setember.18.2007.4:12]

i credit no one but myself for the amount of laziness and un-productivity in which i have been displaying.

it goes far beyond being incompetent;
'cause here i am again,
afraid of myself once
more,
and back to
rejecting the unknown.

but here,
no one controls my path but the one who walks upon it: me.

so what 'chu scared of, n*gga?

get ya ass up in the morning.
do the homework.
type the papers,
.
..
...
....
.....
......
.......
........
.........
..........
..........
.........
.......
......
.....
....
..
.
because sooner than you realize,
the time here spent will
be wasted
on trips
of recreational bliss.

[september.12.2007.2:15pm]


could i explain love?
no.
simply no
because i believe that
my not being able to explain
it is all in its
definition.

check,
if i could explain love,
that would take away
most of the joy
i had in loving someone.
to me,
the fact that
no matter how many words i
choose
and to still be
incompetent
to convey
my love for someone,
or to be
unsatisfied
at my attempts
to explain
my love,
is the territory
love comes with.


ive been in love.
i love a lot of people
and i love myself.
but i wont ever be
able to explain it
just because love is
so relative.

its something that
can exist
without it being
mutual.
its a form of its own
and frankly,
i think no one
has no choice but to love.
even if they dont
or cant love.
theyd love to know
what love is,
so ultimately,
theyre "loving".


so,
no.
i cant explain it.
dont want to.
i just know that
when two people
reach a point
in her or his
life when
they find a love
they arent
required to explain,
then there it is...
true love in one of its purest forms:
inexplicable.



and as for certain
levels of love?


there arent any levels.
this isnt a super nintendo
super mario brothers
game console.
if there were levels
then one could choose
to go up,
or down,
but shit doesnt
work like that.

id say that love
is based on which the
lens you observe
it through.
either that lens be
tainted,
cracked,
blurred,
or not there at
all...

in my life

i have accepted...

the fact that i exude a strong demeanor and therefore, i intimidate both men and women alike

that i am me and can only strive to pursue and obtain my own happiness

that i am emtionally corrupted and distant

i second guess myself because i am afraid of being great

i feel inadequate when my footing isnt comfortable

i will do what isnt always morally right, but what seems to be the best decision at hand

the fact that i doubt god and then i take him back; im losing my religion

i have tried many masks and have grown to know that the one i was born with fits me best

i am sarcastic beyond belief and thats ok by me

the fact that i know that i am not "model material", "drop dead gorgeous," but i cherish the fact that im intellectually beautiful

ive grown to understand that there is a system to everything and its up to me to manipulate it

it is my responsibilty to educate myself about who i am, where i come from and where im going and to choose the status which ill end

the fact that no idea is original, because to be original, you have to base your originality on whats already the norm

and those who defined themselves by the amount in thier wallet are lost souls; zombies

pop culture wont define me and i wont fall victim to its diluted mentality in which it sells to the population of androids

the fact that america was designed with our demise in mind

that i will never sacrifice the being that i am

sex will be my vice until further notice...

i will always lead and live a plethora of parellel lives

the fact that i have no choice but to leave my fingerprints on this world and have input on the blueprint to the next

i am here to die eventually

i will always be alone because no one will truly ever comprehend the perspective, the insight, the vision that i see

and finally, i have accepted that i will possibly outgrow all of these views because i am forever changing, forever growing and forever a fuck up in my own right

my words

[september.17.2007.5:35pm]
"lets just be friends, care for one another, and continue to love, minus the heartache bullshit"
-c. james


arent meant to hurt
you,
theyre merely a form
of me expressing
how much i love
you,
to depict the depths
in which i wade
head over heels in
love with
you.
theyre what i feel.
if only you took heed,
let go of the bullshit
and allowed yourself to proceed
and soon come,
seen...

everything will mean what
it means,
seem what it seems,
and breathe
what it
breathes.

what it is
isnt brand new;
because once upon
a time,
i breathed you.

biography

[september.17.2007.3:06pm]
"i feel as if i am a part of you ask we speak.."
-anonymous


the biography of Char'Nae:
it happens day by day.
my past
is merely
what my foundation is.
the biography is being written now.
and in a
sense,
youre
apart
of
it
in this moment
in time,
this space in
life,
in between
the words we
type.