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Facebook Twitter Teeter/Totter

6 Nov

if Facebook were the hare…then Twitter would be the tortoise



The Essentials Revisited

10 Sep

The Dance of Love is Essentially a Classic One of Courage + Beauty + Truth + Knowledge + Goodness + Hope…ahh what a masterpiece!


Karma Kozmik Relationz

31 Aug

For the Ladies…The best ones are sparKed when his inner beauty matches YOU and your inner strength matches HIM…indeed!

Relentless Happiness

23 Aug



catch the rainbow between a rock and a hard place

The Sum Total of Acceptance and Gratitude…in every moment



Les Parisiens…toujours ahead :-)

13 Aug

The French:  

1. Betwixt the lithium from the cheese and the antioxidants from le vin, they’re chillaxing all the time.  

french fashion

pretty boys with manly swag

Check out the Complex Style of The 10 Coolest French Brands Out Now

2. They’re true hustlers in the love game (true romantics, that is)

How refreshing of Vanessa Paradis (regarding her split from Johnny Depp), to put it so eloquently. She said that at the end of the day she has no recipe for happiness but! the desire to be happy must be there, that one should not feel obliged/be forced/or one should not repeat must simply want!   She added regarding the split,  ” And for me, I want to be right where i am right now.”,,20620480,00.html

Grounded…by Nature

9 Aug

feet first, but only when grounded

If you were born to survive, then that! makes you a survivor; I’m just sayin’…

Another Unedited Story

Yo teach, how old are you?

Yo student, Forty! Replied the teacher (Old enough to be your grandma, she winced internally).

If you were twenty years younger we would get it poppin’, jeered the student.

You’re cute, but you’re not that cute, jibed the teacher.

But I got money doh, the student carried on.

I got money too, chimed the teacher as she reached into her desk, took a bill out of her bag and pressed it into the palm of a scrawny girl who sat near the front door.

The students chattered, having found out in three seconds the amount dished out.  They hooped and hollered that they could not believe that the crazy, dumb teacher had  just handed a student twenty dollars.

You giving money now miss?  Why she gave her money doh? Miss, yo you’re a baller…and other such rantings were yelled throughout the classroom.

The teacher could not tell the students that the scrawny, quiet girl in the front, the one who was three years older than them;  the one who spoke only when spoken to, she could not let on to the class that she had just given her money to buy tampons.  How could she tell them?

Mon Dieu! thought the teacher, as she smiled at the now-beaming little woman; How could this girl concentrate on absorbing the particulate theory of matter when she had worried about how not to bleed all over her boyfriend’s sheets that night?  After all,  the nurse can only ration out one feminine product per student per day!  How could she tell them that the very same boyfriend had bullied this girl, their classmate,  into going  to a private party a week prior and had demanded that she perform various sexual acts with a small private party of men.  How could she tell them that after having received a grand total of one thousand dollars, the pimp boyfriend ensured that his ho saw not a dollar of it.

Mais Non!  She could not tell them such things.  She could tell them however, that they were so delightful and clever with their responses that she would randomly begin to reward them in cash and kind…albeit not twenty dollars every time.  She did tell them that she admired their resolve to embrace the educational process, even when the distractions at home and in the community were overwhelming…real distractions of mega proportions involving survival, life and death on their streets.

She reminded them that their past, current ,and sadly for many, future sufferings simply meant that they were survivors, with more courage than most!

The bell jarred the students back to the moment and they scrambled out of the classroom.

The teacher heard a cantankerous fool yelling down the hallway:

Yo! Bitch yo! You finally got paid ho! Pop-off! Yo scrap, where da party going down tonight? I got that reggie!

Prayer for a Child of the Universe

31 Jul


May I honor father Sky by being wealthy in Spirit , May I honor mother Earth by being healthy in Body, May I honor inner Child by being well in Mind…and so it is. Amen!

An Unedited Story
It was a warm summer Saturday night. THE city was filled with folks on the prowl like crouching leopards. In the hood, girls walked the streets wearing barely there spandex in the brightest color combinations and cutouts that left only one thing to the imagination…I wonder if she is STD free.

All shapes and sizes displayed their wares like they did not know the real purpose for being clothed. Black white, aged, youthful… the females seemed to all have read the same memo…something about showing as much skin in the most provocative way without being arrested…is probably what they had interpreted from it. There was no beauty in it, only desperation and confusion. What did they seek? The men glared and stared, grabbed and smiled, displays of cash, fancy cars, weed and alcohol seemed to be the only requirements for the male of the species.

There was an air of animales about the energy on the streets. Small groups gathered on street corners, in front of bars, in front of liquor stores, on front porches, on back porches…eyes were empty of spirit. Sodom and Gomorrah, deceit, wickedness, vileness, greed were immediately conjured to the forefront. Occasionally a kind spirit emerged giving a cigarette to the homeless man perched on his usual side-street ledge, or the toothless crack-head who received fifty cents because that is all she asked for. Hell on earth, this must be…strangely it was like watching a movie…every actor played the part expertly…automation. The sprinklings of fully clothed women and wholesome looking couples walking their beloved dogs, seemed like saints and angels amid throngs of the lost.
A prayer of humility was sent out, for surely there was too much pride, avarice and arrogance in the air. A sort of carelessness about the preciousness of life and love of self and others evoked from the pores, movements and words of most. Dear God, may they awaken to a new life, a spiritual, soulful purposeful life in which there was no need felt to exhibit garishness. A life of inner peace, beauty, goodness, strength and courage to be good and true to real self…a life of love. Surely that is the simpler way to go. How could it not be? The idea OF HEAVEN ON EARTH, UTOPIA ON THE STREETS…SURELY THAT IS THE BETTER CHOICE for the denizens of this city.