Is it Too Much?
-Jennifer Kizzee
Is it too much to ask for a nice man?
Someone who would fight for something for which he stands
Or maybe someone who will be there for me in the night?
Is it too much to ask for a man who knows when he’s wrong and tells me that I am right?
Is it too much to ask for someone who loves to chill?
I’m the type of woman that wouldn’t use him just for a hot meal.
Is it too much?
It’s not as if I’m asking for a mansion by the shore.
All I am asking, is there someone out there for me?
If there is, I would even consider changing my last name from Kizzee.
I feel that I am not asking for much
All I ever wanted was a man’s strong yet gentle touch.
I am a good woman to keep around until the end.
I’m a woman that you can always bring around the family and friends.
Could he be like Calgon® body spray
And just take me away?
Is it too much to ask for a person who is kind?
Who respects my body but especially my mind?
Is it too much to ask for an intelligent guy?
Someone who understands that sometimes I may be shy.
Maybe I should just let things be
And as time goes by, I’ll just wait and see.
But I will always ask myself is it too much?
Petrified
by Kelli Bray
Emotions are taking over.
I am told not to invest too much of myself.
Not to sell myself short.
Not to get caught up.
But my emotions are taking over.
As times goes on we learn,
We grow,
We mold,
Into this thing that becomes bigger than the both of us.
My cluttered mind can come up with a way,
A thought,
A word,
To express what’s happening.
So I invest myself.
I give you my ears to listen to you.
I give you my hands to massage away the pains of this world.
I give you my words that give you wisdom beyond my years and settle your worries.
I give you my heart in hopes that this emotion that I’m feeling is not in vain.
I feel a way that is so brand new to me.
I love being with you and hurt when you’re away.
I ache when you’re away.
My emotions are taking over.
To watch you leave me brings tears of sorrow and happiness.
So glad that you make me so happy,
That I cry seeing you leave.
What is this emotion taking over?
I smile through the tears at your departure awaiting the next chance to lay eyes on your beautiful soul.
I’m confused.
I’m insane.
I’m in love.
I am petrified.
Unfortunate Fortune
-Logan Blackmon
Money makes me stick around.
Offering things I never would have known.
Lavish jewelry, designer clothes and a few broken bones.
It started just needing to get my feet on firm ground.
Two years into this undying fixation,
A new mansion, a coupe and a white on white Benz.
And for my husband two new girlfriends
What will it take to end this fascination?
Five years in, now a mommy with twins
They’ll inherit the whole fortune, now a part of the affair
And daddy’s ways as he beats me while my babies stare
My prayer is for an exit route before the cycle begins.
Love Quest
by George Kee
Years have past, they’ve gone so fast
Love instant at first sight
It took awhile to grow till now
The time was like a fight
Round one, so young and so naive
It’s said true love is blind
Our hands held firm, with much to learn
No cares on vernal minds
Round two, still new our love still dear
But soon to face a test
Though distant, stayed strong what could go wrong
In college we both were blessed
Years have past, they’ve gone so fast
Love instant at first sight
It took awhile to grow till now
The time was like a fight
The Warning
-Logan Blackmon
I woke up in one of the nastiest moods. My face still cringed at the reality of the dream I’d awakened from. The reality was undeniable. Determined to give an alternate ending to my dream, I lie back down and put a pillow over my head hoping to shut out the uninvited sunrays piercing through my window. I lie there, eyes clamped tight hoping to revisit my dream. Five minutes and then ten minutes pass. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t lie in bed any longer or I’d be late for class. Upon arrival to class, I struggle to focus on the boring behaviorism lecture. I can’t get that stupid dream off of my mid. Why could I remember this dream so vividly? I cursed the fact that I could never remember so clear any dreams with me and my man Jamie Foxx.
Like many women, I dreamt of that special day that my world would change forever. I dreamt of the day I’d step into my custom made Vera Wang gown, pure perfect-white. It was so beautiful, fitted to showcase every flawless part of my body, which would in due time be ravished to make room for a more acquired taste of beauty, motherhood. I was surrounded by my girlfriends, sisters and mother. We waited patiently fanning one another with wedding programs to keep cool. We awaited the cue to descend down the aisle, showcasing our beauty to the soft sounds of instrumental love songs. As I walked down the aisle, escorted by my proud father, I held on tight, fighting to hold back the tears so not to ruin my makeup. Fear and anxiety allow a couple to escape. My French manicured fingers were sweating under the fresh bouquet at the anticipation of being released at the end of the aisle from my father’s security to meet my unknown future. I’m terrified, excited and doubtful, but the flickers of the camera keep me smiling. With every step I smell the scent of fresh rose petals under my feet. I look around at the beautiful scene I created in the temple, surely a scene to be envied. I see hundreds of smiles and assuring eyes as I pass each wooden pew. The aisles come to an end. I’m suddenly overcome with a feeling of assurance that things are going to be fine. No reason to be afraid. I smile at the man who releases me from my father and ushers me into my future.
Things become blurry at this point. My memory skips like a DVD to the next scene.
Do you take this man to be your confidant and lover for eternity? Will you honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?”
No turning back now. I part my lips to give my answer, but I’m cut off by something he is mumbling under his breath. As if it would make the words any clearer, I squinted and raised an eyebrow. He bowed his head and spoke a bit louder. I think I hear him say “I know.” My tone clearly conveys my confusion as I respond “You know?” He picks up his head slowly, and I notice his eyes are glossed over. He repeats himself again even louder. “I know.” He reaches into his pocket and removes a tightly folded sheet of paper. He leans into me and gently kisses my forehead. He grabs both my hands and looks into my eyes. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my heart and it becomes hard for me to breathe. In his hands I feel the folded piece of paper enclosed within our palms. “I loved you,” he whispers in a soft tone. He released his hands from mine leaving the sweaty folded paper in my hand. I was dumfounded and it showed on my face. He turned his back to me, stepped down the stairs and walked away from our future without turning back. The doors slammed loud and hard behind him. The entire room shook as the echoes from the doors bounced off the walls. It felt as if my legs would give out on me at any second. I slowly lowered myself to the floor, and sat on the steps. My eyes became teary in shock and confusion. I looked at the letter in my hands. My hands shook at what the folded squares would potentially unveil. I began to unfold the letter as that familiar lump in the back of my throat emerged.
I read in pursuit of an explanation. My stomach turned and I swallowed hard to hold down the nastiness that desperately sought to escape my body. I had been exposed. My life partner had left me because he saw me for who I really was. The letter revealed that he had found my journal. The evidence of every thought and feeling I’d had in the past year. My journal, my only true confidant, betrayed me and ruined everything. It had leaked every secret thought and feeling that I had desperately tried to bury and was determined to forget. The ugliness that I’m sure the years would have washed away like a high tide wave was now exposed. My mouth hung open at the sharp words, slicing away at my heart. He spoke of my selfish, petty, grudge holding-ways. Exposed were my true feelings about his every physical flaw. He’d read about every feeling I still felt for my first love and the longing I had to still be with him. No longer was it a secret that I feared his genes would overpower mine, damning our kids with his physical flaws and intellectual incompetence. He knew now that only financial security and the beautiful ring that garnished my finger was the true reason for this festive occasion. Not some corny undying love for him. He knew that I pondered daily of how devoted to the marriage I would be if presented with a better meal ticket. And of course he knew now that I blamed my lacking ability to love him on his ridiculously poor lovemaking skills.
I turned to the backs of the paper searching for the rest of the letter, but that was it. I sat speechless and in disbelief. In that journal, I had also written that I was prepared to work on it but somehow he didn’t get to that part. It was as if he had become illiterate once he’d come across those lines. He ignored the desire, willingness and excitement to learn to love that I had expressed. He ignored the fact that I was ready. Heavy tears dripped making the words run off the paper. The last lines were familiar to me. He listed the essence of Love extracted from the Bible. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
The truth hurt. I repeatedly called him a bastard, angry that my superficial idea of happiness had been ripped away.
I was awakened by the vibrations from my cell phone before I could conjure up an alternate ending. It was my phone waking me for class. It was all a dream but an undeniable sense of reality crept through my veins. I felt sick at the reality the dream held and the foul ending of my dream. Was it a warning of the unhappiness that my future held? A warning that I needed to change my ways or be damned to my life amounting to lavish materialistic items with no one to share them with. I cranked the car to drive to school and Teach me how to Love rang through the speakers. How appropriate. This was definitely a sign. I would definitely take it as a warning.
-Jennifer Kizzee
Is it too much to ask for a nice man?
Someone who would fight for something for which he stands
Or maybe someone who will be there for me in the night?
Is it too much to ask for a man who knows when he’s wrong and tells me that I am right?
Is it too much to ask for someone who loves to chill?
I’m the type of woman that wouldn’t use him just for a hot meal.
Is it too much?
It’s not as if I’m asking for a mansion by the shore.
All I am asking, is there someone out there for me?
If there is, I would even consider changing my last name from Kizzee.
I feel that I am not asking for much
All I ever wanted was a man’s strong yet gentle touch.
I am a good woman to keep around until the end.
I’m a woman that you can always bring around the family and friends.
Could he be like Calgon® body spray
And just take me away?
Is it too much to ask for a person who is kind?
Who respects my body but especially my mind?
Is it too much to ask for an intelligent guy?
Someone who understands that sometimes I may be shy.
Maybe I should just let things be
And as time goes by, I’ll just wait and see.
But I will always ask myself is it too much?
Petrified
by Kelli Bray
Emotions are taking over.
I am told not to invest too much of myself.
Not to sell myself short.
Not to get caught up.
But my emotions are taking over.
As times goes on we learn,
We grow,
We mold,
Into this thing that becomes bigger than the both of us.
My cluttered mind can come up with a way,
A thought,
A word,
To express what’s happening.
So I invest myself.
I give you my ears to listen to you.
I give you my hands to massage away the pains of this world.
I give you my words that give you wisdom beyond my years and settle your worries.
I give you my heart in hopes that this emotion that I’m feeling is not in vain.
I feel a way that is so brand new to me.
I love being with you and hurt when you’re away.
I ache when you’re away.
My emotions are taking over.
To watch you leave me brings tears of sorrow and happiness.
So glad that you make me so happy,
That I cry seeing you leave.
What is this emotion taking over?
I smile through the tears at your departure awaiting the next chance to lay eyes on your beautiful soul.
I’m confused.
I’m insane.
I’m in love.
I am petrified.
Unfortunate Fortune
-Logan Blackmon
Money makes me stick around.
Offering things I never would have known.
Lavish jewelry, designer clothes and a few broken bones.
It started just needing to get my feet on firm ground.
Two years into this undying fixation,
A new mansion, a coupe and a white on white Benz.
And for my husband two new girlfriends
What will it take to end this fascination?
Five years in, now a mommy with twins
They’ll inherit the whole fortune, now a part of the affair
And daddy’s ways as he beats me while my babies stare
My prayer is for an exit route before the cycle begins.
Love Quest
by George Kee
Years have past, they’ve gone so fast
Love instant at first sight
It took awhile to grow till now
The time was like a fight
Round one, so young and so naive
It’s said true love is blind
Our hands held firm, with much to learn
No cares on vernal minds
Round two, still new our love still dear
But soon to face a test
Though distant, stayed strong what could go wrong
In college we both were blessed
Years have past, they’ve gone so fast
Love instant at first sight
It took awhile to grow till now
The time was like a fight
The Warning
-Logan Blackmon
I woke up in one of the nastiest moods. My face still cringed at the reality of the dream I’d awakened from. The reality was undeniable. Determined to give an alternate ending to my dream, I lie back down and put a pillow over my head hoping to shut out the uninvited sunrays piercing through my window. I lie there, eyes clamped tight hoping to revisit my dream. Five minutes and then ten minutes pass. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t lie in bed any longer or I’d be late for class. Upon arrival to class, I struggle to focus on the boring behaviorism lecture. I can’t get that stupid dream off of my mid. Why could I remember this dream so vividly? I cursed the fact that I could never remember so clear any dreams with me and my man Jamie Foxx.
Like many women, I dreamt of that special day that my world would change forever. I dreamt of the day I’d step into my custom made Vera Wang gown, pure perfect-white. It was so beautiful, fitted to showcase every flawless part of my body, which would in due time be ravished to make room for a more acquired taste of beauty, motherhood. I was surrounded by my girlfriends, sisters and mother. We waited patiently fanning one another with wedding programs to keep cool. We awaited the cue to descend down the aisle, showcasing our beauty to the soft sounds of instrumental love songs. As I walked down the aisle, escorted by my proud father, I held on tight, fighting to hold back the tears so not to ruin my makeup. Fear and anxiety allow a couple to escape. My French manicured fingers were sweating under the fresh bouquet at the anticipation of being released at the end of the aisle from my father’s security to meet my unknown future. I’m terrified, excited and doubtful, but the flickers of the camera keep me smiling. With every step I smell the scent of fresh rose petals under my feet. I look around at the beautiful scene I created in the temple, surely a scene to be envied. I see hundreds of smiles and assuring eyes as I pass each wooden pew. The aisles come to an end. I’m suddenly overcome with a feeling of assurance that things are going to be fine. No reason to be afraid. I smile at the man who releases me from my father and ushers me into my future.
Things become blurry at this point. My memory skips like a DVD to the next scene.
Do you take this man to be your confidant and lover for eternity? Will you honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?”
No turning back now. I part my lips to give my answer, but I’m cut off by something he is mumbling under his breath. As if it would make the words any clearer, I squinted and raised an eyebrow. He bowed his head and spoke a bit louder. I think I hear him say “I know.” My tone clearly conveys my confusion as I respond “You know?” He picks up his head slowly, and I notice his eyes are glossed over. He repeats himself again even louder. “I know.” He reaches into his pocket and removes a tightly folded sheet of paper. He leans into me and gently kisses my forehead. He grabs both my hands and looks into my eyes. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my heart and it becomes hard for me to breathe. In his hands I feel the folded piece of paper enclosed within our palms. “I loved you,” he whispers in a soft tone. He released his hands from mine leaving the sweaty folded paper in my hand. I was dumfounded and it showed on my face. He turned his back to me, stepped down the stairs and walked away from our future without turning back. The doors slammed loud and hard behind him. The entire room shook as the echoes from the doors bounced off the walls. It felt as if my legs would give out on me at any second. I slowly lowered myself to the floor, and sat on the steps. My eyes became teary in shock and confusion. I looked at the letter in my hands. My hands shook at what the folded squares would potentially unveil. I began to unfold the letter as that familiar lump in the back of my throat emerged.
I read in pursuit of an explanation. My stomach turned and I swallowed hard to hold down the nastiness that desperately sought to escape my body. I had been exposed. My life partner had left me because he saw me for who I really was. The letter revealed that he had found my journal. The evidence of every thought and feeling I’d had in the past year. My journal, my only true confidant, betrayed me and ruined everything. It had leaked every secret thought and feeling that I had desperately tried to bury and was determined to forget. The ugliness that I’m sure the years would have washed away like a high tide wave was now exposed. My mouth hung open at the sharp words, slicing away at my heart. He spoke of my selfish, petty, grudge holding-ways. Exposed were my true feelings about his every physical flaw. He’d read about every feeling I still felt for my first love and the longing I had to still be with him. No longer was it a secret that I feared his genes would overpower mine, damning our kids with his physical flaws and intellectual incompetence. He knew now that only financial security and the beautiful ring that garnished my finger was the true reason for this festive occasion. Not some corny undying love for him. He knew that I pondered daily of how devoted to the marriage I would be if presented with a better meal ticket. And of course he knew now that I blamed my lacking ability to love him on his ridiculously poor lovemaking skills.
I turned to the backs of the paper searching for the rest of the letter, but that was it. I sat speechless and in disbelief. In that journal, I had also written that I was prepared to work on it but somehow he didn’t get to that part. It was as if he had become illiterate once he’d come across those lines. He ignored the desire, willingness and excitement to learn to love that I had expressed. He ignored the fact that I was ready. Heavy tears dripped making the words run off the paper. The last lines were familiar to me. He listed the essence of Love extracted from the Bible. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
The truth hurt. I repeatedly called him a bastard, angry that my superficial idea of happiness had been ripped away.
I was awakened by the vibrations from my cell phone before I could conjure up an alternate ending. It was my phone waking me for class. It was all a dream but an undeniable sense of reality crept through my veins. I felt sick at the reality the dream held and the foul ending of my dream. Was it a warning of the unhappiness that my future held? A warning that I needed to change my ways or be damned to my life amounting to lavish materialistic items with no one to share them with. I cranked the car to drive to school and Teach me how to Love rang through the speakers. How appropriate. This was definitely a sign. I would definitely take it as a warning.
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