Old blog/old work...

Morning peeps!  It's almost time for my Thai Christmas Relaxation extravaganza. I am in serious need of some R&R time, it's not funny.  I'm hoping to use that time for some spiritual God time, too.

Have you ever googled yourself?  I did today and I found an Amazon link to a book with my name on the cover!!! (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DWSZHUY/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1)  I was like, what the what, I'm the protagonist in someone else's story!!!???  It was surreal...but I did buy the book and plan to read it. :)  I'm sort of flattered that she either 1. Saw my name somewhere and liked it, or 2. just has great ideas...

I also came across some old poems I wrote back in my college years (http://nikinyte.blogspot.com/).  It made me nostalgic, and sad I don't write poetry anymore, but also chatty because now I want to share with you all of my old stuff.  I think I need to add a disclaimer, some of it is better than others...and none of it is Warsan Shire, so be gentle.... 

Also, remember, these are autobiographical (mostly) and some of these were real emotions I was sorting through at the time.  They don't necessarily reflect emotions and thoughts I have now...10 years later.  :) 

Here you go, in no particular order...I'll try to put the date it was posted too:

Thursday, July 13, 2006: "My Biggest Fear"

In the mirror I see your eyes,
your smile,
your face.
Yet, every morning I waste a minute preparing to face the face,
that we,
you and me,
share.
It's not that I'm ashamed of you.
It's just the things you do,
the things you say,
this game game we play.
I'm glad I don't share those dimples or those hazel eyes,
or even your complexion (light-skinned with a touch of sunlight).
No,
I much prefer my plain brown eyes and dark skin;
I don't even care you can't see dimples when I grin.
You see,
Mama,
My biggest fear isn't that I am powerful beyond measure or that with one word I could change the world.
My biggest fear is one day discovering that we,
you and me,
Have become I.
Our completely blended features making it impossible to distinguish between the lies you told and the truth I sought.
The mother I searched so desperately for and the daughter who discovered naught.
Don't get me wrong, Mama,
I love you more than life.
But I'd hate to wake up one morning and discover,
despite all my running,
I had arrived. 

"My Resolution"

I know what pain is.
Pain is joy, not yet discovered.
Pain is hoplessness uncovered.
Pain is not being able to relieve a problem, but at the same time relentlessly trying,
Pain is crying like an idiot while everyone else is smiling.
Pain is the deep cute of a broken heart.
Pain is not understanding a certain part.
My dilemma.

I know what tears are.
Tears are pain that have finally been released.
Tears reveal a future tha seems so helplessly bleak.
Tears are the product of defeat and doubt.
Tears are your only way of letting out (pain).
Tears are the equivalent of being lost.
Tears show weakness at all cost.
My situation.

I know what it means to be afraid.
Fear is the absence of courage.
Fear is the beginning of nothing.
Fear is wanting to succeed but not trying.
Fear is ending a life without dying.
My problem.

I know what it means to be alone.
Loneliness is the absence of another heart that understands.
Loneliness is keeping it all in (refusing to show feelings).
Loneliness is death while your still alive.
Loneliness is no one really knowing how you feel on the inside.
My position.

I know how it feels to be depressed.
Depression is feeling pain, fear and loneliness when a thousand people are in sight.
Depression is crying tears in your pillow in the dead of the night.
Depression is wanting to be heard and no one ever really knowing.
Depression is me, right now, and (Yes!) at this very moment.
My resolution? 

Tuesday, June 27, 2006: "11:16 @ Work" (that time I was a corporate drone...)

I notice things.
Sitting behind my desk, hand poised to answer phones, eager to greet the next visitor,
I notice the bland look in their eyes,
the obligatory "Good mornings" and "How are yous" we are forced, by whom we know not, to recite each day we step into contact with a new stranger.
A strange face. A no one.
We drudge through the coffee, preparing ourselves for a long day of menial, unnecessary work--as unfullfilling as it is pointless.
And because of this understood assimulation into society, I write.
I write of me, or rather this forced me.
A me conformed to this 5 am to 9 pm workforce of underpaid America.
A me no longer myself, who wants to read and write and write and read to my hearts content only because this is my one passion--my basis of existence.
If the powers that be allowed me one wish, it would be to have the words:

Here Lies Ayeshah Shakir Dean

Writer by choice, receptionist by force

written on my tombstone so that future generations would see and take notice that maybe,

just maybe,

there was so much more...

to me.

 

Friday, September 01, 2006:  "Things You Never Have the Heart to Say Out Loud"

You don't want me to go.
That's okay.
However, just know, that doesn't mean I will stay.
I NEED this space between you and I,
a break from your emotional, overbearing self.
Your self who wants to be apart of every, single aspect of my life
Yourself who doesn't realize, or refuses to believe, that yes! I am your daughter, but I am also me
Yourself who's content living in a small town, down the street from mama, daddy, cousin, sisters, brothers drinking cheap beer out of brown bags (random liquors "hidden" in the trunk of your car).
Yourself who gets emotional when she's drunk
Yourself who never listens, but is always ready to dictate
Yourself who tries to impress me (the child) with every decision you make, as if my word was the very breathe of God
Yourself who, too early a mother, never let me forget that psychologically, you will never be ready
Yourself who's blind (or apathetic) towards the pain you cause those who really care about you, but can never find it in themselves to put up with your shit.
Like me.
It seems that we have arrived at an empass wherein we will never agree
And I refuse to sit here forever, waiting for you to see that all our lives are different dramas we must act out to the end.
My resoluiton: to spend a year away from you, mama,
the tragic heroine by your own hands. 

  

Thursday, August 31, 2006: "Dreaming"

I want...
Honey kisses romantic nights dinners for two basked in moonlight...Violins playing as he stares into my eyes promising me nothing short of a lifetime.
I want...
Saturday mornings wasted in bed, as we snuggle reminiscing of the night we just shared. His hands combing through my hair as we quietly take in the atmosphere.
I want...
The possibility of a future not clouded with loneliness because I have yet to find that one who makes my toes curl at the sound of his name, his voice, his touch, because I know I won't have to look any further for fulfillment (sexually, emotionally, and intellectually)
I want...
To be fat and old and not care what I look like with the lights on because I know he loves me regardless
I want...
a companion, a friend, a lover, a man--SOMEONE who... (breathe)
wants me too  

 

Friday, August 04, 2006: "Fathers and Daughters"

Can you tell me when I loss my front teeth;
Or how old i was when I first went to the beach?
Do you know how I learned to tie my shoe;
Or who I usually went to to kiss my bruise?
What was my favorite animal at the zoo;
Or who was the person I looked up to?
At 13, what did i aspire to be--am I now living out my fantasies?
Honestly,
I try no to dwell on things of the past,
But there are a few more things I have to ask.
Like: Where were you when I was born?
I ask because,
right now,
I'm sort- of torn.
You see,
I don't quite undertand,
how to make a father out of a man,
especially one who can't respond,
to my questions. 

 "Those Who Can't Afford to be Positive"

 You stare as if you know me;
but I'm convinced your stopping at my dirty shoes and unkempt hair--
if you look closer--
harder,
the truth is there--
but only if you dare to approach it.
What, with this damn cold world, and these damn cold nights,
a vacation in Hell would be a nice respite.
Five kids huddling in one bed (of the two in the house) because the kerosine has run out--
again.
Still wonder why I can't grin.
Why I can't bear to bare teeth at the thought of life.
And now you stare at me because my appearance offends your presence.
Because I add truth to your prefect world.
Your damn cold world, and your damn cold---
Maybe you should vacation in my Hell tonight.

 

 "Reflections on Growing Apart"  (I have no idea where I was going with this one...)

Come walk with me,
in this valley that we,
both you and me,
have created.
I've long since learned that this world is our oystershell,
pearls sitting, ready for the taking;
making;
I plan to break this cycle if I can.
Don't shy away from me.
I am the same me you knew when we first knew our first breathes of life.
Come talk with me,
I've been gone so long there's bound to be something to catch up on.
Are we so different now to even utter a sound---
that thought alone should be frowned upon.
Don't hesitate to reinstate what once was more than life.
Because, it all turns,
and soon after burns,
remember, I was with you in Rockland.