Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
John Legend & The Roots "I Can't Write Left Handed" Bill Withers Cover (...
NO NEED FOR ME TO SAY ANYTHING RIGHT NOW....JUST WATCH.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Phyllis Hyman
Sometimes a look back can give a lesson on things that can be used in the future, or in the now. Sometimes, I just like to get away from the now, and remember when music and artist had individuality. This absolutely beautiful woman, always kept me staring. Her voice is all her own, and unmistakable. She is a good example that, you never know what a person is going through.
Enjoy...then look at other parts of her story.
Enjoy...then look at other parts of her story.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Is there a fine line between Genius and Mental illness?
Such an inspiration. It takes much strength to fight both inner and outter battles.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Poetry Fix>>for those who need it.
Third and Fourth Eye Perception
A passionate kiss
A sensuous grind
Embed in the very recess of his mind
A valuable picture developed by time
Departure can never erase her
In her presence
He shutters
In her absence
Flashes
Of their past encounters
Fade out the negative
Rewinding to--
Still warm film
Spread across her exposure
Focusing in on her expression
Which mirror her thoughts
Eyes of jade and Sepia
Reflect light like a prism
Oh god!
He loves to get lost within them
Permanent mood rings they are
Windows to her soul
What lay behind them
Seldom is told
If through the noon she slept
Missing the lulling sun
In a snap
He’d capture it
Suspending it’s setting in time
Preserving that moment
Until she awakens
Then present it to her
As he does with his heart
©Theresse Bynum 10/15/2010
A passionate kiss
A sensuous grind
Embed in the very recess of his mind
A valuable picture developed by time
Departure can never erase her
In her presence
He shutters
In her absence
Flashes
Of their past encounters
Fade out the negative
Rewinding to--
Still warm film
Spread across her exposure
Focusing in on her expression
Which mirror her thoughts
Eyes of jade and Sepia
Reflect light like a prism
Oh god!
He loves to get lost within them
Permanent mood rings they are
Windows to her soul
What lay behind them
Seldom is told
If through the noon she slept
Missing the lulling sun
In a snap
He’d capture it
Suspending it’s setting in time
Preserving that moment
Until she awakens
Then present it to her
As he does with his heart
©Theresse Bynum 10/15/2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Poetry Fix>>For those who need it.
Hoodnight, my love>> Inspired by photographer Spoon G Shines photo.
by Theresse Bynum
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
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.
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.
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