The Piscean

I’ve always loved water.  Maybe I like it because I’m a Pisces.  Had a great day today.  Couldnt help but notice the blades of grass that were slightly damp from the brief stint of rain we had this afternoon.  Water has a calming, purifying, therapeutic way about it.  Its unlike any other element.    Dug this poem up from 1:32pm August/3/2004

Enjoy… 🙂

The Piscean

Waves from the discontented overwhelm me

I swim towards my former self

I cry but no one can see my tears

I try but my efforts go unrecognized

I keep swimming, for the struggle

seems to be my only purpose in life.

The current is so strong

and my weaknesses are becoming evident.

I escape the dangerous paths of predators

though my greatest conflict is person versus self.

I want to live above the dark murky water

With my own eyes, may I see the bright light that all of the free world is familiar with?

What is it to be free?

Is it to lay lifeless in hope for a re-birth?

Is it to be forced to breathe under the surface of clarity

and digest discord?

No.  It is the voyage of self-exploration

the buried treasure is within.

-SMN

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Date With The Sun- Me Time Narrative

Ladies in their best bikinis trying to divert their men’s attention away from Ms Fat Booty laying out on a towel two umbrellas down. Trying to find a place in the sand to make my palate trying to avoid dips in the sand. Trying to make my impression in this world trying to avoid learning experiences that only teach what I already know. Everything happens for a reason they say.  Everyone comes out in drones with individual intentions. The sun is faithful to all its lovers. He kisses us all the same way. We all respond to his kiss differently. I twist and turn on my red Stony Brook blanket taking all the heat I can take, baking and rotating like rotisserie chicken (wondering if I taste as good.) While your man puts oil on your back and your face is down , his eyes are fixed on me. I just shake my head at him and get further into my book of Nikki Giovanni poetry. Turn my iPod up .D Angelo caressing my eardrums now.  Men in Speedos covered in suntan lotion. Ballys bodies. Pecks, traps, glutes. A big girl adjusts her coverup , looks around anxiously , and then secretly pulls a mcdouble out of her pocketbook followed by a bagel with cream cheese. She salivates a little bit. I forgot to shave. I hope no one notices. But we all out here exposed, flaws evident, stretch marks, dimples, birthmarks, tattoos with your ex’s name. Seagulls hover just waiting for you to hit the water for a quick cool dip. Teenagers infatuated take twitter pics and head off to the distance to play volleyball and make out with the “love” of their lives after each score. I close my eyes and wish them luck. My Dominican blowout is curling up (My stylist Yovi would be so angry) . But this is worth it. I’ll blow another $40 next payday. Sweat drips down my thigh but this is one of two occasions where I don’t mind. Everything feels right and I’m not paranoid or overly concerned with what could be wrong. Big girl kicks sand on Ms Fat Booty “accidentally” in a malicious way.  I can smell the waves but I wont play with them today.  The sand is always hotter on the way back.  Pain is relative.  Today was my date with the sun.