Poetically Beautiful
This is a blog by a girl in search of herself. Love. Politics. Education. Music. Life.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
The WOman: Same Behavior, Different Thinking
Works Cited
Friday, July 18, 2014
Not a Crime.
It is not a crime to fall in love.
It is merely human nature.
To be wanted. To be needed.
To be held and to be happy.
It is not a crime to fall in love
It is a crime to hurt it.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
I want it All.
I want it all
Degrees and Awards on my pink wall
Trips just because the scenery is old
Can't have a boring life, no mold
I want to reach my full potential man
Look in the mirror, like Nas, I know I can
No excuse or mediocre behavior
Never want them saying, cmon we gotta save her
Painting my own stars in the sky
No need to ask me why
I told you, I want it all
Keep looking, waiting, hoping I fall
I'm not a sim you control
This womans controlling her own soul
No deleting my actions
Trying to divide me like fractions
I won't do half and half
This is very simple math
Don't have to follow a calculated path
Just basic plans with extraordinary results
Taking my life and potential off default
Myself minus my heads fear
Didn't say I was perfect my dear
Add a little confidence, a new walk
Get my teeth fixed, learning a new talk
A heaping spoon of faith and love
No way I can forget my Saviour above
A dash of laughter and smiles for sure
I truly believe happiness is a cure
Now I'm adding my determination
Plus the heart and soul of an unstoppable nation
Done with the math
I see my less traveled path
The twigs, branches and dark spots
Disguised as friends telling me I cannot
My basic plan isn't fool proof
But I'm a fighter I will always shock you
Stomping and leaping over the traps
Slip and falls, they'll still be set backs
But I want it all, so I push on through
Ma'am, sir stop the second best
You should want it all too.
Sunday, July 6, 2014
The Addiction
I woke up this morning and immediately clicked on my instagram. Yes before my prayers to God I clicked th Gram. *note to self, pray before social media* So, I see a picture (view the pic at the bottom of this blog) of a Korean family. The picture states: "This Korean family would like to thank black women for taking the money they could use to send their children to the best colleges and spending it on fake hair so we can send ours! Your insecurities and lack of racial pride has made us rich. You go girl!"
Oh boy! What a statement. What a picture.
What a truth.
Growing up as a black little girl with short hair, my mother did the absolute best with my hair and her knowledge at the time. Cornrows. Single extensions. Relaxers. -_-
What I saw on tv was long, luxurious blonde hair. Why couldn't I have that?
So here you have a girl already wanting to change her natural God-given hair because of the world shoving their depiction of beauty down her throat. Fortunately I had a mom that made sure I knew I was beautiful. By the time I reached teenager status and began picking my own hairstyles, I just had to have weave! Why? It was something I could use to feel beautiful! Sew-ins, quick weaves, braiding hair, and wigs all became a necessary part of my life.
I began working at a beauty supply ran by a Korean husband and wife. The managers are causassian. While working there, my love for weave grew. I studied the different hair types and probably wasted a lot of money.
Although the money was leaving my hand and I knew it was dumb I kept doing it. Having silky hair to my waist was just enough. Then I ran into a woman wearing her natural hair.
No relaxer.
No weave.
No tracks.
No sewn in beauty.
Her natural God-given tresses.
And she was beautiful.
So now my brain is in overload and I'm thinking, "Wait, I can beautiful without weave?"
That thought began my natural hair journey in 2011. Which I have stopped and started over and over again due to lack of patience and a busy lifestyle; but that's another blog all together.
This thought also made me think.
When I buy toilet paper I am making someone else rich. When I buy food I'm paying someone else's bills. However, when I buy weave I am giving in to the social belief that black women cannot grow hair. Black women love weave. Black women need weave to be beautiful. Our minds are so warped.
Now, I do not believe that buying weave makes you weak or insecure. I believe that spending your rent money for weave is pitiful. Selling your government assistance bridge card so you can get a 22" sew-in is low. I saw these things while employed at the beauty supply. And guess whose making the big bucks off your feeling of beauty? The picture says it all.
I wear my hair in its natural state, but who knows next week I may have a sew-in and there's nothing wrong with it. But never again will I be a slave to believing that I can only be beautiful with someone elses hair in my head.
Good day loves!
Saturday, July 5, 2014
NO not another black woman
Twerking or pregnant
No not another black woman
Fighting and on baby daddy number 3
No not another black woman
Blaming white women for taking their men
No not another black woman
Dropping out of school
No not another black woman
Selling her body
No not another black woman
Selling her stamps for weave
No not another black woman with an attitude
No not another black woman
Hating herself
No. No. No. No.
Not another black woman feeding
A hungry stereotype
Not another black woman
Not reaching her potential
Not another black woman
Downing her black King
Not another black woman
Giving in to the social media party bus
Of lies, sex, drugs and hate
No. No. No. No.
Not another black woman
Lost in her own fear.
Poetically Beautiful
What is beauty? What is poetry? Both of these are what we want to make it. No defined answer. No exact description. Being poetically beautiful has no definition It is looking in the mirror and loving the image you see, poetically. I am poetically beautiful because of my brown, sun kissed skin. My cotton frizzy hair. The mysterious nature-placed moles and beauty marks. Ten to be exact. The fluff of my tummy. The excessive bra meat. I am poetically beautiful due to my delicate, sexy lips. What I see as beautiful is also what I see as poetic. My features are extensions of my DNA and my DNA is poetically beautiful. What is your poetic beauty?