Queen

I am a Queen in my own right

I only answer to that of The King of Kings

I want and dream only the impossible

Because all things are possible

I am gentle and kind to my subjects

For I heal with my kind soft words

I am not a harsh taskmaster

But I wash away the harsh treatments of the rulers before me

There is tenderness in my right hand

And love in my left

An unquenchable fire of love consumes when I open my heart

And light radiates when I open my mouth

As His thoughts escape my lips

Newness and freshness fall upon the gatherers

When His will flows from my pen

Old layers of lies are stripped off

As new ones of lightness replace

I am a Queen of oceans and seas

My depths are noncomprehendible

But my movements soothe and awe

I am a goddess of light

My beauty isn’t seen when looked upon directly

But is manifested in and upon all it washes over

I am a giver

I am a giver of blood

I am a giver of life

I am a giver of will

I am a giver of life

I am a giver of hope

I am a giver of life

I am a giver of love

I am a giver of life

I am a receiver of the injured and wounded

Because I am a giver of life

A Queen, in my own Right

Pride and Egos

Sometimes pride and egos get in the way of revealing true feelings and sentiments. They are both bitter and hard pills to swallow. People spewing truth have the tendency to unintentionally bruise pride and egos. Either way, overinflated senses of either can leave you all alone and bitter in a world that was meant for couples. Dynasties, empires, kingdoms, and households operate much smoother and much more colorfully when the duke, duchess, emperor, empress, king, queen, man, and woman exist together and are at liberty to sharpen one other as iron sharpens iron. I will to reign with you, my handsome mister. Even when my words hurt…they heal, and this is what love does. It chastens, then soothes.

Church Girl

You know her type, the perky friendly greeter at the church, or the seemingly
standoff-ish member of the praise team that never fails to put a little extra
funk in her strut when a handsome mister happens to walk past. If you catch her
outside of the sanctuary she’s quick to tell any man that shows interest she’s
celibate and saving herself for marriage. Get her to agree to go out on a date
and the conversation will center on how she’s ready to settle down intermingled
with subtle hints of coy seduction. No time for games because she’s been there,
done that, and knows what she wants. Get her alone in your place or hers and if
you listen closely enough you can hear her battling with herself as she tells
you to “Stop” as her actions scream “Don’t quit!”

It’s easy to talk her panties off because she really doesn’t have a real
relationship with the same God she prays to, to send her a man. If she did she
would trust Him enough to send a man that’s not only worthy of what’s between
her legs, but understands why she’s holding out now, even if she’s not a
virgin. Instead, she becomes everything the man that’s blowing her back out
wants her to be. She cooks and cleans for him, alters her personal appearance
to be what he likes, and pulls every trick out the bag as she takes it fast and
sucks it slow. While she’s cowgirl up on his penis riding him into a drunken
stupor of cum-induced bliss, she’s praying to God that this man can see what he
has in her, that she’s a good catch. I mean, hell, she’s showcasing all the
attributes of a Susie Homemaker in addition to the fact that she can suck and
f*ck like a pro. Why wouldn’t he choose her?! After the cum has spilled and the
orgasms have subsided, she finds herself trying to convince him to go to church
with her. She now tries to lure him into having a relationship with God in
hopes he will marry her, even though he’s not committed to even be in an
exclusive relationship with her, because unlike her, he meant every word he
said when he told her he was not looking for a relationship. She just knew she
could get him to change his mind.

In her mind she feels she’s the only one, even though he has given her no such
affirmation, so she stalks his facebook page and marks her territory by leaving
little subtle hints and comments that let all the other women he’s ‘friends’
with know that she knows him on an intimate level. You know how women do, make
references to things one would only know by spending time in the presence of
another, like how he likes his food prepared or how his tattoos look in person.
Sly sh*t that men overlook, but other women pick up on. While she’s marking her
territory, he’s seeking out a real woman that walks what she talks. Yes, men
have double standards when it comes to women. Most times in their minds they
are thinking the woman isn't who she says she is after she's sexed him because,
well, she sexed him even though she professed to be a woman of the cloth. More
oft than not, she's just a low self-esteem having woman that doesn't even know
who she is. Poor little Church Girl pulled all her tricks out the bag for
nothing. She has become a bottomless pit waiting for the next man to swallow.
Maybe she should have listened more to the sermons. It's not like she wasn't in
church every Sunday.


I do not own the rights to the image used in this post

Wah-lah! Magic!

Almost every woman I know is totally cool with and down for being her man’s sweet little whore in the bedroom. We all want to blow our glittery freak dust in your face and call out “Wah-lah! Magic!” as we leave you in need of electrolytes. Okay, typing that made me giggle, but seriously, we want that. In the words of Jill Scott, “I am not afraid to be your lady. I am not afraid to be your whore.” Many of us are eagerly anticipating the day we can proudly let our freak flags fly and go hard in the paint with no inhibitions. What’s stopping us? Well, I’m glad you asked, love muffins.



The number one reason we don’t go all out in the bedroom is because there is either none, or a lack of, exclusivity and/or monogamy. There are some women that pull every trick out the bag upon the first second of penetration without so much as a mention of monogamy. Those women usually end up alone, labeled as top notch hoes (yes, there is a difference between being a hoe and your man’s private whore), and eventually wind up being bitter. Most times they are just looking for love and equate good sex with the power to make a man commit. While good sex is some powerful stuff, it rarely leads to long term commitment. Then there are other women. I love good sex as much as the next warm blooded able bodied adult, but I will NOT put my best lemon meringue cookies in a jar only to have the crumbs of the other assorted cookies in the jar downplay the flavor and appeal of my own. I will, however, toss my regular oreos or chips ahoy in that bad boy. I may even offer up the cheesecake filled ones if I’m really feeling the guy, but not my best. My best is reserved for the man that will savor the complexity, smoothness, and richness of me, all of and only me. This is the man whose last name I’d proudly wear and whose child I’d willingly house in my womb.


The second reason is lack of security. If a woman doesn’t feel she can freely be herself with you, you won’t get the best of her in any capacity. This rings true most times in relationships that are abusive on some level, be it emotional, mental, or physical. There is always an ever-present fear factor. Liberty can’t operate and coexist with fear. There was only one man in my life that completely allowed me to be me, and even with him I held back because I knew I was not the only one. If he had been my faithful husband it would have been on and popping. There would have been almost nothing I would not have tried at least once, minus a threesome. There can only be one femme fatale in any bedroom I occupy. Yes, I am a whole lot of vain and selfish with my toys.


The last reason is she just doesn’t want to. Maybe the man is married, or he’s just something to do to pass time. Maybe she’s doing it out of sympathy because she feels sorry for the poor bloke. I have never had sympathy sex, but it happens. I doubt I would twerk his pole in true porno fashion if I was simply putting out to pacify him. No sir, he would get the dollar store barely suitable for consumption box of cookies.


My advice? Don't give your pearls, whatever they may be, your time, body, sex, mental stimulation, heart, etc. to swine. Don't kiss frogs in hopes they'll become what you see in them that they can't, and don't lay down with dogs that have been infested with fleas (i.e. other women). The dog may not harm you, but those fleas bite with intent to inject bitterness and pain. If you are a man-eater and can separate your heart from your vagina, then by all means, cast those pearls and enjoy yourself a nice BLT afterward. Now that, would be magic. I’ve never met a woman that could pull that one off and walk away still feeling whole.

These are solely my opinions. I do not own the rights to the image used in this post.