Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Poetry Fix>>For those who need it.

Hoodnight, my love>> Inspired by photographer Spoon G Shines photo.
by Theresse Bynum



Photo by: Spoon G. Shine
I never tire of you
Your projections hold life
Your walls conceal both
Love
And Pain


Though many moons have phased
I recall the war paint sprayed against your ecto
Like Hieroglyphs
Tattooed
Layered upon you
Telling stories of young souls
Long gone
Battles won by Masters
Of ceremonies
And
Unknowns who never wanted
To be forgotten


I’ve gazed into the heavens atop you
Uttered my dreams amidst
Witnessed the birth of stars below
Who mention you once in a while


I find myself longing to see you
I know I can never stay
For you put me in a
Slum-ber
Even in brightest of days


Though your study and strong on the outside
Your interior is gutted and weak
You would never be able to
Hold me
Too devoid of the things that I need


Please know I’ll love you always
My heart lives on the number of man
And until she moves on
The way I did
I’ll see you whenever
I can

©10/12/2010 Theresse A. Bynum

Saturday, October 9, 2010

An argument between intellectuals. He said, I said no it Isn't.

by Theresse Bynum

Ok. Had a dispute with a friend last night (who's probably going to say something about me posting...but) I do have a valid reason for doing so. We argued over the term "Baby mama". I find it demeaning. I feel it shows no sense of love for the mother. What's wrong with saying my daughter's/son's mother? "Baby daddy"? That paints a picture of some slave master pointing at the little "niggras", then to the Father he "mated" with the female slave and saying *heavy southern drawl* "that nigger there is the "baby daddy" she (female slave) be the "babymama". No (more) disrespect to anyone comfortable with the term. Got some thoughts about the term "Wifey" too...hmmm.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Poetry Fix: For those who need it.

A revelation from God
by Theresse Bynum

Inhailing words/

choosing wisely my verbal nutrient/

for what I take in/

becomes a part of me/

therefore/

Inhailing him/

choosing wisely my mate/

for what I take in/

becomes a part of me

---Theresse A. Bynum

Friday, October 1, 2010

Too many young people dying...because they're gay.

by Theresse Bynum


It saddens me to see so many young people dying because of their gay lifestyle. In whose name is this non-sense committed?-- Not God. He sent his son to handle that yeeears ago. So, no man has a right to beat anyone, jesus has already been beaten and broken for ALL. Any changes to be made in our lives is between God and ourselves (for those who believe or want change), So, If you disagree, that's fine, there's no need for disrespect. Love your family and friends and en...enem...enemies (Whoo!).

[SN: If your gonna pray for someone to change; make sure your not: Fornicating (which is RAMPID in the church), "Shackin' aka co-habitating" (also rampid), Stealing (even from gov. "render to ceasar..") Not tithing (DAMN! all he said was 10%), Looking and talking to people like they're poopie (sin has no size variation, tis what it is) etc, etc.

Let these babies live. You/We don't know what the Lord will do with them later. So, let them find out

Poetry Fix: For those who need it.

My Final Masterpiece
by Theresse Bynum on Friday, October 1, 2010 at 8:03am


My Final Masterpiece

Forever my morning blue
The Raphael in frame
Infinite telepathic strokes make you immortal to me

So easy to Hate
Too loved to despise—for one IS more intense than the other

So easy to Love
Inhaled, dispersed within me
I now am Transfused
For to rid myself of you takes bleeding—emotionally
Though tears will flow

Full of vibrant color you are
Too confusing for most
Including myself—still…I wanted you
Hence, my love for abstract

Jean-Michel Basquiat
--Mon art complique
Vous avez mon coeur

My Final Masterpiece…
There will never be another like you

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I needed to cry, but...

Today I walked ahead of my children, so they wouldn't see me crying. It's funny how we want our kids to learn the lessons of life and love...but try so hard to protect them from it. This afternoon I sent my children to their rooms, "I need to focus on my work" I said. Actually, I didn't want them to see what it looks like to die inside. It makes your nose run and your eyes red...not a pretty sight. All these little arms to hold me, and still I'm tortured at the fact that someone could so easily walk away--leaving me lonely...then take all the love I gave...and give it to someone else. This evening, I sent my children to bed a little earlier than usual. I needed to cry, but...I couldn't...Until I started typing this...

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Short Shorts: Very short stories.

Two Characters>>Very short story about letting go
by Theresse Bynum


“One more hour to go.” Raymond thought to himself, as he fingered through the files on his desk.
Child Psychology isn’t the most fun career but “It has it’s rewards”, as he likes to say. Midway the files, he’d noticed a familiar name; Klepter, Daniel. “Daniel Klepter?” he called into the waiting room. A gelatinous looking little boy, possibly of nine years, stood from his seat and wobbled towards the office. It was as though Raymond was looking back into time. The boy clenched something tightly in his hand, mom followed.
“How are you ma’am?” Raymond extends his hand. “I’m Raymond Azul, I will be talking with your son shortly to get to know him better. Is there anything you would like for me to address?”
She shakes his hand then takes a seat next to her son at the desk. As soon as mom began to speak, Raymonds’ attention was diverted to the object in the boys hand. He looked at the boys face, which appeared calm as he fumbled with the object. He watched carefully as Daniel began a back and forth motion rubbing his palms together. Raymond noticed it was a car. A rare, blue, 1960 “T” model car, no longer available. Raymond sat back in his seat and kept himself from getting emotional. Focused on the car, he whispered, “Mom? Would you mind if I spoke to Daniel alone?”, unaware that she was still talking, he was whispering, and he’d called her “mom“. “That’s what I just asked you.” she chucked, to hide her slight annoyance. She kissed Daniel on the forehead, and told him she’d be right outside; as if he didn’t just hear their conversation.
Sooo, D.”
“That‘s not my name.” he answered, keeping his head down.
Ok…Daniel.” He opens his folder. “These papers tell me a little bit about you, but, I’d rather let you tell me about yourself.” No response. He gives the boy time then says, “Then again, talking can be overrated.” He closes the folder, and places it back into the small pile of files.
“You mind if I take a look at that?”
No response. “That, in your hand.”
“See?” Daniel held up the car without lifting his head.
“I mean, can I hold it?”
“No.”
“Why not?
No response. “I heard you used to do well in school. You sound like a very smart kid. Do you take your toy to school? Hmm? You know, there comes a time for us to grow. Your becoming a man now, and as we grow, we have to let go of…things.”
“I used to have a car like that when I was around your age. I…lost…it. My father gave it to me because he used to sell cars and I would always say I wanted a fast car like that one.” he said pointing over to nothing. In his mind, Ray was standing in his fathers car lot, looking at the black “T” car. “He gave me a blue one because that’s what my last name means in Spanish. Azul means blue. It was like he was giving me a part of himself, so he put something...well, anyway. One day I was with some friends playing in the park and an older boy came and asked to hold it. I said no, but he…” Raymond paused and stared into nothingness. “Well, Enough about me.” He reached behind his chair, and takes a model car off the window sill. Daniel lifts his eyes, then slightly lifts his head to see what Raymond was doing. Slowly he turns around and places the car on the desk. It was big and shinny, Daniel thought.
"The top goes back. I’ll let you hold it, but, only for a seconds, ok?”
Daniel nodded. As he placed the blue car on the desk, Raymond had the urge to snatch it, but instead assured he wouldn’t break it. As he reached for the car a feeling began to squeeze his chest. As he picked it up and brought it to himself, he couldn’t wait to flip it over. Sure enough, there was the “R” his father, Ray Sr., had carved into the metal at the bottom, the afternoon he’d given it to him. His eye’s began to sting. He squeezed it in the palms of his hands, as if to feel his dad once again. He placed his hands near his face trying to sneak a touch on the cheek. He succeeded. In that moment lil ray felt the same way he did thirty years ago.
A soft thud brings him back. As he opened his eyes, he noticed the car on the table and Daniel staring at him, “I want my car back.”
‘It’s not yours’, Raymond wanted to say. ‘your father stole it’.
“Daniel. It was really big of you to let go for a while. I bet it was hard.”
“No.”
“Well, you know, you can probably get a little money for that old thing. It would be another big step, especially for mom. Since it was so easy, I’ll take it off your hands.”
“I want my car back, and I’m not selling it.”
“Well, how about…”
“My father gave it to me!”
Ok. I understand. I’m sure he will be proud of you if you…”
“He’s dead…it’s all I have left of him.” Daniel stood up and stormed out of the room.
Raymond stood silent. Suddenly, what he wanted didn’t matter anymore. In that moment, lil Ray did something that his mother told him to do years ago; he let go of…things.