Holi Rae

COFFEE TALK

2009-07-02T11:19:00.000-07:00

Sun smiles wide through the pane
If it's an indication of the day
Excitement lurks around the corner.
Mocha aroma dances across the kitchen.
Folger grains sift themselves alive
Creating a harmonic smell, a pleasant atmosphere
Two ceramic mugs, lap tops, and reading material
Each day should begin this fluent
Sincere sun shines and clement coffee soothes
Colliding characteristics flirt with emotions
Tender words are exchanged
Agendas are established
Sipping between thoughts
Perhaps to organize new discussion
Or listen to the other share ideas
Unyielding partnerships become tenacious
Coffee consumption each daybreak liquidates barriers
A time for reflection, a time for smiles
Most all, a moment to share
Something so simplistic
Wish the formula was revealed prior
Coffee Talks
Might have liberated past bonds
Picnic experiences won't be disregarded again
Yet, commemorated in time of relationship crisis
Thirty years from now, Folgers will still exist!
Will this?
Can't abandon the idea as though an orphan
Sunshine, sharing, and smiles will continue
As well as our
Coffee Talks!

Nose Dive

2009-04-09T15:41:00.000-07:00

Eh, Eh, Eh. Sounds of the emergency alarm. Over 100 thousand feet amist the air. "Fasten your seat belts. Prepare for emergency landing," the little stewardess shouted through the overhead.

Panic everywhere. One child already tumbling forward like a bowling ball down the aisle. Cans, magazines, purses, cell phones moving through the air cabinet. Shouting. Crying. Cussing. What was happening? Was the plane going down. "My baby," one lady shouted. "We're all going to die," the man next to me blurted out.

The plane jolted every which way. Numbed from waist down. Ears popping from constant pressure. Emergency ligths flashing. Cell phones pleading for service, but towers showed no mercy. My head pounded against the plane ceiling. Passenger's coins escaping pockets, colliding with the ceiling surface. Total chaos. Now shifting sideways, like a rollercoster. The pilot must have readjusted his position. The plane straightened up and I was upright in my seat at normal position. Speaking too soon, I now hung in the air foward. Had it not been for my safety belt, I'd be in the cock pit.

Warm urine raced down my dress pants. I was scared. In the window seat, my eyes danced toward the outside. Nothing there, just clouds. Air. Shocked. I could not say anything. Choked by mere air. My words were stuck. Hands sweaty and tears crawled down my face like a stream flows toward a nearby river. I was going to die? Clasping my wet hands together for one last prayer to my Father. "Hallow be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done . . ." Perplexity and fear obstruct my memory. I want to say so much more, but I'd only remembered that routine prayer.Fear of death gripped my words. I was terrified.

Loudly, I began to weep. Others did the same, echoed in unison. Now clutching my rosary, like never before. I'd almost broke the chain, sure that there was a chain imprint around my neck.

I saw the sea below. We were fast approaching. Plumeting toward an irrational death. Taking a nose dive straight into the Atlantic Sea. "Plane down, plane down".

God couldn't have heard my prayer, even when I thought I was close in proximity. We were still diving into the deep big blue. What was far away was now so close. One mile away. Half mile away. Meters away. The water. The Air. The Salt.

Death on Impact.

Call of the Wild

2009-04-02T19:02:00.000-07:00

Charlotte rest in her quarters amist her window bay, already predicting the nightly visitor she had become familiar with. That night the rain drips loud - heavy against the windowpane. So heavy, Charlotte is reminded of her father's hallow guitarre he used to play sounding her and her little brother off to bed. Trying to fall asleep, she secures herself beneath the dingy quilt that her mother had given her. However, she is unable to relax for too long because Uncle Pete would show up soon for his usual "night cap" - at least that's what he'd call it.

With each raindrop, a memory surfaces. She sees the Sheriff arrive to her Ant Francis' front door where she stood in the corner holding her little brother's hand. Another raindrop made her think of the smell of her mother's pancakes early Saturday mornings. Charlotte's mouth watered as she envisioned the sweet syrup. An even harder raindrop against the midnight air, caused her to giggle to herself when her Pa sang his guitarre song. "Up and away the wind blows . . . ", Charlotte sang to herself . . . is the way the mosquito must go".

Charlotte loved when it rained. Made her think pleasant thoughts. Mama and her would sometimes sit and just listen to the rain. Mama said when it rained God's heart was beating louder and the faster it beat, the more lives he was saving. Since Mama and Pa died, Charlotte pleaded for rain. Rain was like home for her. It was rainy nights like tonight that made Charlotte surrender to the meek and unfamilar house that she and her brother now resided. Not too often did sleep defeat her except when the rain came.

Then the undesired sound came, the sound of the doorknob jiggling. That sound, came to be called the The Call of the Wild. Every time Charlotte heard the doorknob jiggle, she knew it was Uncle Pete. Upon his sneaky entrance, she grit her teeth and clutched hold of her quilt as he towered over her. His coarse hands wrestled through the covers trying to find her budding body. One paw blanketed Charlotte's mouth and the other paw gripped her frail body, positioning her in a fair angle before Uncle Pete abruptly entered her. Charolotte used to scream, but her child-like body had become numb to his "night caps". Instead, she pleaded that God would save more lives and end the The Call of the Wild tonight.

FINGERPRINTS

2009-03-29T18:46:00.000-07:00

Today, I sit and reflect on all the bastards I have been with. I feel their rusty fingertips colliding against my coffee skin. Sometimes, I shiver at the aroma of cologne. The inability to recant any of those pigs weakens my spirit, devours my soul and quite frankly, creates a harsh resistance to a trusting relationship. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE TRUTH - STOP NOW AND GET OFF MY PAGE.

It all started when I was a mere lassie, close to six years old or so. Playing hiding-go-seek with the neighborhood boys who always seemed to be looking for jollies. Teenage babysitters getting their rocks off too. Even mature relative cousins seeing what IT was like. I suppose its easier to get it from someone who is younger because they have no idea what's happening. Taking advantage of innocense is what I call it.

Why was I the target? Where was my mother? How come she didn't protect me? How come I didn't know it wasn't okay?

Today my confidence has been raped. Today I have visions of those bastard rubbing and tugging over my surface. Today, snippets of their ruff hands play in my head over and over. The attic, the station wagon, under the preschool table, neighbor's laundry room, and the list continues . . .

Inside I am screaming, but no one hears my pain. No one really understands the trauma, the outcome, the afterlife, the risks, the neverending reputation associated with me no matter how hard I try, and most all, the paralyzed judgment regarding love. Yes, I have had some great men come into my life, but I have also come across some creeps too. Problem is - the good ones I didn't seem to recognize. Still not sure if I would be able to target them.

Countless men who have taken MORE than their fair share of my goods. Not enough fingers and toes combined could tally a number. Sad and pitiful that no numbers can be assigned to something that is supposed to be a precious production of life. Those fingertips have forever printed my life. My past haunts me everyday, no matter where I go or do. I hear the voices of the men, the scent of wild sex, the laughter, snickers as others pass by and, the wonderment of men who never got the opportunity to hit.

Some days, I'm good. Other days depending on the way the wind blows - I'm gloomy and depressed. Those damn fingerprints keep leaving nasty trails for me to revert back to mentally. Paw prints which should have been prince prints . . . always remain. Sucks when those thoughts present themselves. Fingerprints of hell exist, hot hot hell.

No matter how many times I shower or scrub harder, those prints - omnipresent. Remain like Cancer. I'm always hopeful that showering will erase those fingerprints, but the warm water only removes the germs, not the permanent memories.

These are the fingerprints of my past . . .

Free at Last

2009-03-29T11:02:00.000-07:00

Lashes quarantine tears for as long as they could
No more captivity
Liberating departure
Pinnacle fullfilled
Set position like a runner in blocks
Gun bellows
Fire forced emotion initiated cascade
Free at last
Crawling down the heap first
Slow Samba
Sudden acceleration as memories surface
Tears no longer afaid to dance
Dance a dangerous duo
Free at last
Fallen without lashes' permission
Like raindrops overpower clouds in a heavy storm
Fire dripping down the cliffs
Ashes mark residue
Free at Last
Eluding custody
Toward hopeful independence

Tears - a silent emotion
Not for bondage
But for Expression

LET IT OUT
ITS OKAY TO CRY

Heartbeat

2009-03-28T22:03:00.000-07:00

Today, I felt a heartbeat
Wondered if it was forever
Wasn't mine, belonged elsewhere
Felt pleasant like spring
The closeness
The rhythmn
Proximity made me fade away
Ran the other way
Held back my feelings
Tried to respect home
But drumbeat left an impression
I still feel it humming
Pressing against my back
Really wasn't mine to feel
Or enjoy, but I did
Fastasy - what if it was mine to feel?
Reality - the heartbeat belong to someone else
Simply happen to be near
Stole another's heartbeat maybe
Mate would be upset if closeness revealed
Heatbeat felt natural
One day
I hope to feel my own's mate's heartbeat.

Draino

2009-03-27T19:40:00.000-07:00

Ten years squandered
Never to be recanted
Stretches of hopefull and disappointing experiences disfigured
Push and pull, the whole time through
Tug of war
Two people move
but at scattered times
Like Checkmate - your turn, my turn
but never OUR turn
Frozen memories infinity
New York,
Peering at shooting stars,
Love making in unison,
Camping, kickboxing, and dining
Together
Happy times always pleasant to remember
Depressing moments too
Cold and hot, not sure the outcome
Warm Mix?
Not sure of outcome . . . too many happenings
Trust raped on both parts
Lies to protect love
Creates more damage
Hurts
Tears burn racing down cheek mountains
Feels like FIRE
Sweaty
Strong heartbeat
Glossy eyes
Confused
What to do?
Logic says, "let it go"
Body says, "sex feels good"
Heart says, "stay and try again" because
Love endures
Other half finally admits
No future seen ahead
Too many false rumors separate us
Some lies - some truths
Abundance can't be separated
No ring, no aisle, no "will you marry me?"
JUST times stabilized and nothing more
Hurts
Let it go, let it go. Nothing more, but to move.
See other people.
Never quite the same.
Looking for same features.
Never found.
What to do?
Where to start?
Tens years sqandered
like DRAINO!

Blood Tied, but Fate Defeated

2009-03-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

Shared the same womb
grew up in identical habitats
mutual chambers
my shoulder, her pillow.

Blood bears us

Shared the same garments
bathed together
sipped from one straw
even used one utensil a time or two.

Ancestry connects us

Shared Saturday morning smiles
Smurfs, Scooby Doo, Snorks, and Super Friends
one floor television
one warm afghan

Red juice marries us

Shared Video games: Vectrex, Artari, Nintendo
one remote
single Apple Macintosh computer
one keyboard

Lineage merge us

DHS - where we studied subjects synonymously
Lay-uped under the same ball net
Ran together, cheered together
Traces still remain after graduation

Unwarranted Distance introduces himself

Higher education initiated farewell
EKU and UT, miles apart
fresh friends
worn memories replaced by uncontaminated experiences

Distance widens himself, omnipresent

Parents mirror progeny, and part too
Hound Boomer, inadvertently shipped to foreign territory
Accordance interrupted like the Red Sea
Unison once polished, now tarnished

Distance perhaps through obedience, in sync with Fate

Each dwell in four states
Illinois, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Tennessee
blood holds the ties
and warrants trips

Jealous Distance ailed by the abandoned memories being rehashed

Trips minimized considerably
communication reduced
new marriages, homes, siblings, states, and professions
ALL NEW

Distance and Fate close now

Complete polar opposites
Black and white
North and South
Blood tied, souls disconnected

Distance and Fate have married

Steady tiffs replace once joyous moments
words box
committed to knock-out
harmony dissipated, tears dance a slow samba

Distance perhaps too far gone, desires a discount, Fate refuses compromise

Time buries history, refuses to unveil past
Distance and Fate do a duo dance
Fate fights ferociously
Distance desires a discount
Fate and Time team up
Distance’s strength dies down
Fate and Time defeat distance.

Blood doesn’t battle, yet remains taunted
lifeless like a weed in a desolate field
Blood waits for Fate, Distance, and Time to show her grace again.
“One accord, one day. We’ll all be together."

THE WAR WITHIN US

2008-12-16T16:51:00.000-08:00

War is within me. I know what your struggles are.
We fight for two different reasons, but from the same heart.
Your heart beats as you hide beneath trenches and mine beats to the sound of life - a silent life that screams to live.

Our struggles run deep. We are trapped within our own souls,
waiting to be discovered, yours by fellow soldiers and me, by myself. Isn't it funny how our souls are locked within?

You are a soldier at odds with other countries. Me, I'm an unmatched soldier of life, whose soul tarries like the wan soldier that sits in the infirmary, sick and waiting to be set free. Our uniforms are tattered from the wars we wear within us. Some call it caitiff. I call it prudence. The war within us won't let go.

We can't see the victory, but others somehow see it clearly. The war within us is neither past, nor present, but simply forever - at least, as long as our souls remain locked within this war.
Yours physical and mine internal.

The war whispers tell you to just get up and look over the trenches and you'll see freedom, but lassitude denies you strength. The war whispers try to tickle my soul as fond memories flash before my psyche, yet ire denies me strength.

Endorsed for your dauntless acts, soldier, continue to fight.
For your strength alone yields my sorrowful war within. You must continue to battle. For your war that will be victorious, calms my war, if only you will get up and look over the trenches. For they are waiting, but they can't see you because fear hides you I too think.

Fight my dear soldier. Fight.

Desolate soldiers such as me; depend upon your vigor for strength, hoping it will end my war within.

Fight my dear soldier. Fight

Look up over the trenches so we can both end the war within us!

I KNOW HER NOT

2008-12-12T22:21:00.000-08:00

I know her not. She lurks in my memories and will not leave me alone. She is much like a shadow that never leaves. What must I do to cast her aside? She is here, but is not here. She is there, but is not there? Why? Please go away. I don’t understand why she doesn’t go away because she is really gone. The mere thought makes her present, but if I should open my eyes
I know her not!
Everyday she is in my face. I am forced to see her, to be in her presence. This figure that once really was my shadow is not any more. Please go away. Don’t you understand? I don’t want you! You cast me away and I am trying to do you the same.
I know her not!
There she goes again. Appearing in MY dreams. Is she crazy? Get out of my sleep. You didn’t really want to be here anyway. So why are you still here? I don’t understand. Why did you come when that was not where you really wanted to go? Who goes across the country and doesn’t want to go? What sense does that make? Go Go Go.
I know her not!
You have what you want. So why are you still here? The expression on your face tells me you never cared. I’m confused. Please go away. You have what you want. My head hurts. Why is my head hurting? I want you to hurt like me. You stupid bitch. Go the fuck away. I hate you.
I know her not!

Shadowless

2008-12-12T19:18:00.000-08:00

What was almost like a shadow is no longer there. What ever I did, this figure did.
Not anymore. Who was I to think I could keep this shadow. Unworthy and pityfful as I, the shadow is gone. I've run it off. The shadow is no more. Who would ever think a shadow would leave you? How could a shadow leave, but yes, the shadow is gone.

For a while, I was the leader of the shadow. The shadow did what I did. When the shadow could no longer see its reflection, I was cast aside and a new reflection was found.

Where was I to go?
Now I am without shadow.
Alone and shadowless.

First Time

2008-11-29T18:55:00.000-08:00

REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU . . . .

Went on a date

Watch the sun come up

French kissed

Won a race

Failed a class

Played Hide-n-go-get

Rubbed the Kitty Kat and it purred

Went camping

Watched porn

Farted in front of a date

Ate Nina or sucked Dingaling

Stole from a store

Told your mom you hated her

Spit on somebody

Cussed out your teacher

Watched Sesame Street

Flew on an airplane

Sneeked out of the house

Got drunk

Prayed to God and confessed your sins

REMEMBER ALL THESE TIMES
FIRST ARE IMPORTANT BECAUSE
THEY ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF
YOUR LIFE

What is love?

2008-11-28T21:37:00.000-08:00

I really wanna know what love is?

I think I was in love maybe once or twice. Maybe three. But damn its been a long time. I'm kind of yearning for it now. I want that one who I will absolutely die for. Maybe I already have him? How do I know?

Sometimes, I flick on the tv and see folks kissing, I mean slobbing, tongue all down the throat and I wanna join in. I mean damn what does it take to feel like that? I want my titties to perk up. I want my pearl tonge to secrete. I want my heart to flutter like a butterfly. I want my palms to sweat. Sucks watching all these people holding hands, smooching, lubbing on each other.

I really wanna know what love is.

I wonder if its like the first time when I was 12 and playing Hiding-go-seek (well we used to play hiding-go-get). N E wayz, at 12, I remember my first crush. His name was Chris. Awwwww I'm saying as I remember his cute face. I used to get this funny little feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm not quite sure how to compare the feeling, but I remember my panties use to get wet from just brushing up against him. I'd get chills that would run through my body. It was sort of like a quick high. Nice feeling.

I really wanna know what love is?

There was the real boyfriends when I was older. Something about the way they would make me feel. My back would arch and my booty would toot out, making me sweat. I had all these feelings going through my body. I can remember those feelings like yesterday. Wonderful. I'm smiling:)

I GUESS THAT WAS LOVE!

We Don't Always Understand

2008-11-27T13:14:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we get dealt all these cards
and have no idea how to play them

At times, we look and see all Aces
and other times we notice straight Jokers

WE DON'T ALWAYS UNDERSTAND
how to play

Then there is the time when the phone rings
and its not who we want it to be

But by the time we finish listening to the caller
our heart smiles because we realize the message was necessary

WE DON'T ALWAYS UNDERSTAND
when its time to listen

Then there is love. Confusing as it is
Even though it hurts, we should embrace it

When we get it, why do we fight and refuse it?
We say we are guarding our feelings,
but really we are pushing away life's most precious gift

WE DON'T ALWAYS UNDERSTAND
that life should be full of love

We get special priveledges
and soon we find ourselves getting too comfortable

Before we know it, we've abused our rights
and are left fighting to regain the trust we've broken

WE DON'T ALWAYS UNDERSTAND
the meaning of trust.

Uncontrollable Thoughts

2008-11-27T11:06:00.000-08:00

Okay, so the last time I had sex, I absolutely could not control my weird azz thoughts. I know yall will think I am strange, but I swear I must have an awful imagination! Check this out:

So I am laying on my back with my legs agap and the pillow is over my head. Whenever the pillow goes over Holirae's head, something strange is bout to go down. Its an early morning sex going on. He is eating my Nana. And I am aparently nowhere I need to be. I was way out in left field when perhaps I should have been on first base. There was no sex, just pure oral - all I was in the mood for.

Nonetheless, in my fantasy, I was a business man (and know that I am all woman). I wanted to get my dick sucked. I was working in my office. (I totally don't even work in an office). But yeah, I was feeling horney, so I decided to stop past the office building's public restroom in the mist of a break and met this male trick who must have worked in another department. But somehow, I lured him into the bathroom stall, where he sucked my dick. (Yeah, you heard me - the dick I don't have). Maybe I was totally bored with the guy who was really eating me out . . . don't know, but both the men were doing the damn thing. And I was jerking his head back and forth as his mouth clenched my dick and balls. In reality, the dude I was with, my pulling my coochie lips and I was loving it but just couldn't be there to feel him. UNCONTROLLABLE THOUGHTS.

I know you all think I am fu **** up! But if I said, it didn't happen that way, I'd be a liar. Make matters worse. I chilled with my pants down in the stall. Took my brief case and raised my hands up above my head like I was the motha-freeken-king of the land. LOL. Head was off the chain! Money shot all up in this tricks mouth.

Whoever, this dude was who was in my dreams - I wanna meet him! Guess I will never meet him, cause funny thing is I can't even see the face of the man who was sucking my imagainary dick. I do know his lips and tongue was real.

Now, I know I am not the only person who has been in such a crazy ass situation. To be honest, whenever I am getting ate out, I ALWAYS have these krazy UNCONTROLLABLE THOUGHTS. Here is a lsits: Can you add any?

FYI: Most of the time, I am the guy. Weird huh?

-Once I was getting my dick sucked in the alley way because my wife wouldn't do it the way I liked it. So often in my fantasies I will meet this stranger twice a day (lunch and after work) before I go home to my wife.

-Another time, I took my wife with me so she could learn how to suck me the right way. Her job was to watch these 3 other women suck me off. We were all in an abandoned building. In the end, my wife agreed to join in and learn the how to suck. She did the damn thang too.

-Another time, I was an older man who liked middle school girls. I was a dirty pimp who would only mess with the young girls. So there was one who I would have suck me off frequently when she got out of school. And the deal was, she could not ditch school to suck me off, because in my fantasy - I didn't want a dumb ho.

-Another time, (I was a girl this time) believe that? Anyhow, my boyfriend use to sneak over after school while mom was at work talking bout he had to have it. Many times, he would get a quickie and nut just before mom put the key in the door. There were other fantasies with this same guy who would come over and do me while we knew Daddy was outside the door listening.

Yes, Imma freek with my krazy ass UNCONTROLLABLE THOUGHTS!

Tell me bout yours?

Runway Love

2008-11-26T19:31:00.000-08:00

I know there are tons of ladies out there like me who are just waiting for that Runway Love. What I mean is the one man you will walk down that aisle with? I'm in my early 3os and still am without a hubby and at times its quite depressing.

As girls in middle school, high school and college, we spend all this time deciding upon wedding colors and to think I may never get that opportunity to walk down that runway with my man in my awesome colors. By the time I got to college, I had narrowed down my colors to pale yellow and creamy white. I know weird, but hey its my (imaginary wedding).

I get so tired of people trying to play match maker. Those are the worst kind. Runway Lover, where the hell are you? We should be toasting drinks together, praying together, and loving each other. What the hell are you doing? In somebody's elses runway or what? At any rate, I'll be waiting because I refuse to settle for anyone less than the BEST.

People are constantly asking why, "Why aren't you married?" That freeken question drives me insane. The hell if I know. I immediatly wanna say, why are you divorced? I'd rather be single and sane than married and insane. Don't ask dumb azz questions.

I want my marriage to last. I don't know. I keep thinking this is God's devine plan to keep me single as long as possible until he feels I'm deserving of that Runway Love. And when I get him, Imma run down the aisle just like Kunta Kinte ran from the white man (as fast as a runnaway slave). Imma be running happy and in love to get to my man at the other end of the runway.

Its the holidays and here I am going to spend another holiday alone, or at least with someone who I'm not quite sure will accompany me down that runway. Is there any other ladies out there feeling like this or is it just me? Talk to me girls. I'm needing some positive feedback to lift my spirits.