"I am not my hair but it's a major part of me..."

Ever wonder why hair is as fragile as the heart
Ever wonder why a woman is her hair...

Ever wonder why you'd spend ages at the hair dresser
Ever wonder why you'll find solace in a pair of scissors...

Ever wonder why this-or-that went with the look
Ever wonder why dad shaved you bald at the age of one...

Ever wonder why you attached your hair to the letter
Ever wonder why all the men would give you a stare...

Well-
I wondered and I learned..

I learned that my hair was me
I still wonder why they say "akili ni nywele"...

I learned that change came from within
I still wonder why there was comfort in the pair of chop-chop-chops...

I learned that change is always achievable
But most of all-
I learned that "I am not my hair but it's a major part of me..."

Pic Courtesy of @thekasichana

DEAR MR. LOVERMAN...

As I see you think
As I let you predict
Yes I do think you’re attractive..
Who wouldn’t? 

Pic Courtesy of Google

Physically...
Your hair
Your tattoos, the meanings
Your physique
Your walk
Your dress
Your eyes.
Your whole silhouette forms as I day-dream.

 
Spiritually...
I appreciate, admire
Respect that you at the least believe
Adore something like I do
A- many- supreme beings?
Something to give you peace of mind
Something to put you to calm
Something to control your fire as it gets outta hand I guess
But my dear love,
I also find it as a future issue
One way or the other
But we'll cross the bridge-
I dearly hope.

Intellectually...
A stir you've caused
It's great to know-
Awake is my faint-mind
Challenged
In a good way though.
Turns a page,
Flips another,
Listens to the commotion of day
Thinks.
Oh dear Mind- It's bedtime can we rest
Thinks.

Miscellenously...
Well my heart has spoken
I - can’t say ‘m being rebellious
I - don't understand
I - loves obedience...
But you Mr. Loverman,
You have caused a stir
A free spirit I am to become
I saw it as I let you predict...

But bear in mind Mr. Loverman,
There is a lot you'll learn too,
A lot before you strip me bare
A lot you’ll get to know
A lot before you worship me too
A lot to dump
A lot to nurture...

Xoxo,
Yours in Body, Mind and Spirit.

MYSELF: THE TURNING POINT

(This is not a poem)

Sometimes we are imprisoned to what we want and what we think is right.
Sometimes we live and swear by Y.O.L.O and live in the shadows of day-to-day living.
(I'm not saying it's wrong but...)
Sometimes it just clouds our thoughts/ our set path to destiny.
Sometimes we really don't know how deep we are digging our graves, and at times we really are moving far and far into a labyrinth that we think is the right path.

At times, we are great and inspiring.
At times we are lonesome and the so-called anti-social kind.
And at many of times we do try to get back to the path with daily, weekly, monthly, annually, maybe a decade of resolutions.
We at first stick to the plan then somewhere down the line- don't know what happened.

Many at times...
(and I echo this)
We choose to trust and rely on our own understanding(s)
And with less talk forget we are just mortal...
Forget there is actually someone or something supreme we believe in
Someone/ Something who guides or tries to guide us day-in day-out...
Whatever your spirituality...

Well, I chose this day to be some sorta turning point and  to actually work onwards
Onwards the GREAT-I-AM to be...
(with God's help that is.)
For I believe
I am an image of him above and a proud daughter of two good and true friends.
Not forgetting all the people who have and took or will take roles in  my life.
Roles to still critic me:
 
The turning point, that's what I call it, that's what it is.
The turning point to always remember the Me, (http://tkkay.blogspot.com/2013/05/myself-me.html) and appreciate it;
To always nurture the I, (http://tkkay.blogspot.com/2013/06/myself-i.html) and appreciate it.
The turning point to believe in MYSELF as an image of HIM above.

BEYOND ALL REASON

They ask who I am,

Where I've been,

What I do.

They tell me to state,

Define,

Elaborate more.

That’s how they find the most to critic upon

That’s how they compare if I suitably fit or not…

 

They laugh in my tears,

Batter as I proceed,

Smile and offer the unwelcoming hand;

All in want

More like some predicted symbiosis

But that’s what they’ll be

The user of the dagger...

They make and use me

They misuse and cause me to wonder

They re-do their acts with wisdom

But in life you either give your best or turn to the next

Well,

I still wonder…

They want and truly need

They find solace and peace in my aura

They feel great

More than inspired around

They find comfort in the word “friend”

Well they might have a true calling

Oh well...

They give and cradle birth

They rule and place,

More like control the strings,

And I'm the puppet

They are the cave-

The cave you run to and from

“Forever indebted.”

But again, life is generational...

They still ask me

Who are you?

Where are you from?

What do you do?

Well,

I’m just a REASON.