Whispers of A Whimsical Woman

BRANDY, "Good Girls" Making A Comeback

2010-05-10T22:39:00.000-07:00

So Brandy and “Brandy’s little brother”(haha), Ray J, have a reality show. I am from the MOESHA raised generation. So this show caught my attention and pulled at my memories' chords. All the little girls wanted to be Brandy Norwood, the “good girl” and the little boys wanted to date her. Now with this reality show, Brandy is in the spotlight taking over the family business, a mother despite her daughter being m.i.a on the show, and sometimes in the opposing corner of her mother/manager Sonya Norwood. I am not a big fan of reality tv, yet I might stay tuned for the next episode. It seems like they might Cosby it up with a family theme, which might force it to actually maintain some type of moral standards instead of a thong dolloped, champagne drizzled, “homie smashing” sex soaked mess.

Signing out with fingers crossed for family based reality tv and a comeback for all the “good girls”

USHER's VIDEO O.M.G'd ,and Gets Barking Baby

2010-05-08T08:39:00.000-07:00

Usher’s new video for his latest single O.M.G featuring Will.I.AM has finally hit the internet waves. It has a sexy magician undertone stiletto-ed out with rhythmic booty shakes,on point dance moves, and it correlates to the lyrics of the actual song. I know that is not jaw dropping nor pantie dropping news yet it is significant to us viewers nonetheless.

Nowadays they should give out an award for the music lyrics matching the music video. We can call it the barking baby award. . .because music lyrics actually being in sync with the message of the music video is becoming as rare as barking babies.

Signing out with hopes Usher will accept his barking baby award . . .woof woof

CHECK USHER'S NEW MUSIC VIDEO OUT: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RnPB76mjxI

Marshmallows trumps Murder [Message to All Music Artists]

2010-05-07T18:04:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one who wishes M.I.A ‘s latest video Born Free was really M.I.A ; and ripped to pieces, those ripped pieces burned, and the ashes flushed down the toilet, and then the toilet water forced to evaporate. I got so excited when the video was posted. I thought M.I.A will do it again. It will be a more spine tingling and stomach warming moment than her pregnant Paperplanes performance with Jay-Z, Kanye, Wayne, and T.I. But as I watched this video my heart sank to my tippy toes.

It was a depressing musical massacre with no M.I.A in the video. What is really up with celebrity artists thinking it is actually art or giving a positive message when the message is so hard to visually digest? The scene of red heads ( ”gingers”) being massacred, and a young girl getting shot in the head point blank is quite overwhelming. Even for me who’s intake of CSI, Bones, and Law and Order is unbelievably high. Don’t get me “twisted”. I am the first to rebel and stand up for those who get stood on, yet I just couldn’t relate to the route this video took. Maybe I just prefer humor or sweet candy dripping video’s with heavy applied lipstick, heels, and stuffed animals topped with the actual artist singing. But that’s me and probably the majority of sane viewers.

ATTENTION, ATTENTION you rich, bored, self proclaimed message bearing music artists, candy canes are better than blood, sugar is better than cocaine, bling is better than big guns and making love to the heart is better than shocking it.

There is too much violence in the streets we must walk in reality. So I am offended when artists attempt to force it into my music videoed fantasies. Its overall depressing and music’s sole purpose is to be uplifting, not make me angry maybe suicidal.

TRY HARD, FALL HARD. . .

Since it is obvious I am not a supporter of this video I will not post it, yet since I have until this point been a fan of M.I.A, I will post a pic of her . . .for the sake of those fans still suckling at her monsterlike music video's bloody tit.

Signing off as a lover of Marshmallows and a hater of murder.

Kisses like Fire

2009-06-28T23:06:00.000-07:00

behind the coffee house
his kisses are like fire
within the towering spirit green trees
beneath the cool pale blue sky
on the dandelion dolloped ground
he laid warm sugar upon me
kisses like fire

his lips still linger here after
lasting longer than the moon's slumber
along my ears and below my chin
and I drift and dance in the memory of him
my hand in his, fingers locked
taking in his gaze
paired with sweet scents of ground cocoa and vanilla

behind the coffee house
his kisses are like fire
within the towering spirit green trees
beneath the cool pale blue sky
on the dandelion dolloped ground
he laid warm sugar upon me
kisses like fire

I only see stars
along with quickened heart beats
and faint bird carols a top us
I think their lullaby is about us
and our new found love
refusing to just live in the moment
but vast in our momentum
running with our innocent and generous affections

behind the coffee house
his kisses are like fire
within the towering spirit green trees
beneath the cool pale blue sky
on the dandelion dolloped ground
he laid warm sugar upon me
kisses like fire

She Say She in Love

2009-06-10T19:04:00.001-07:00

Dum ditty ditty dum
Mama said, shaking her finger
Watch where you‘re going gal
Dum ditty ditty dum
Daddy said, with his brows raised
Your head is in the clouds gal
Dum ditty ditty dum
She said with a smile
“I’m in love”

She say she in love
She swings her hair
Glosses her lips
They frown and glare
She slips on her pumps and click clack click clack . . . and she is gone
and ain't coming back
that's that

She got a high runnin fever
Whoa Fan that girl cause she feels faint
Cause she’s hot
Somebody get the doctor before its too late
Cause she’s in love and they’re not
Raised hand
Question? Yes!
What’s the cure for love?
The answer is definitely Fate
Oh but wait

Dum ditty ditty dum
Mama said, shaking her finger
Watch where you‘re going gal
Dum ditty ditty dum
Daddy said, with his brows raised
Your head is in the clouds gal
Dum ditty dum dum
She said with a smile
“I’m in love”

She say, “I’m in love”
she swings her hair
glosses her lips
and they frown and glare
she slip on her pumps and click clack click clack . . . and she is gone
and ain't coming back
that's that

Tisk tisk, they whisper
She’s hot
They roll their eyes
Cause she’s in love and they’re not

Dum ditty ditty dum
What a shame. . .
She say she in love. . .

click clack click clack

and that's that

Poppa

2009-06-09T05:38:00.000-07:00

Poppa brings us bread
Then beats us with the loaf
Poppa brings us joy
But his head is hot by morning toast
Poppa ain’t grand company
Especially with his bottles
Full of fake liquid dreams
That are over before the last drop

Doo, da, doo, da

Hey Poppa, Hey Pop
Tasting that last drop
Ain’t no surprise
It taste bitter like life
With a swig of good sweet old strife

Doo, da, doo, da

Poppa gives us toys
So we don’t ask, “where’s momma?”
Poppa sings the blues
Cause he remembers, “where’s momma?”
Poppa hums a tune
snaps to a slow smooth beat
Below lays momma
beneath a hardened cold six feet

Doo, da, doo, da

Hey Poppa, Hey Pop
Sing that last doo wop
Ain’t no surprise
It feels lonely like life
With a chorus of good sweet old strife

Doo, da, doo, da

Poppa breaks his back
So we can crack a smile
Poppa has dying eyes
a cool silent brown
Reflecting a heart
of some old broken town
Poppa has hair so white
as untouched snow
Poppa soul is ready to pack up and go
Poppa kiss my forehead
And whispers goodbye
Then Poppa shakes his finger
And says “yall better not go and cry”

Doo, da, doo, da

Just Simply

2009-06-09T05:31:00.000-07:00

He looks at me
and I look at he
but we do not speak
maybe because our hearts are indecisive
our limbs seem heavy and weak
our minds full but our voices hollow, empty
but we are a like, maybe love, just simply

He looks at me
and I look at he
but we do not speak
our eyes converse
when we walk pass, drift by
there is a pause, briefly
we consider breaking the silence
our shoulders brush, gently
we decide to embrace the choice to keep walking
but our eyes, our eyes keep talking

He looks at me
and I look at he
my smile reveals
that he has charm
his laughter admits
that I am not the only one nervous, unsure
but we are a like, maybe love, just simply

I sing and he dreams while we wait
while he looks at me
and I look at he
I notice the strength of his walk, the broadness of his shoulders
he glances at my eyes, and watches the wind blow my hair
but we do not dare
to rush, to quicken each others pace
when my chorus and his hopes align
it will be divine, like golden and bronzed sunshine
when our voices rise over our soul's horizon
the earth will settle and breath
at our ease, just simply

Vogel Rd.

2009-06-08T14:14:00.000-07:00

Her insides were bare and cold. Deep within her laid a yearning, so strong and overwhelming that the sensation transformed into aches. Pulsing aches, that could have been due to the wretched memories she had of him; the taste of his lips, and the feel of her waist within his tender grasp. Whatever the reason, she pictured her insides bruised, with dull purples, blacks, and blues, surrounding a withered heart. She might as well have been dead. That’s what she told herself everyday, clenching her teeth until the blood left her pale lips. If she was six feet beneath the cooled soil of Vogel Road, she wouldn’t have to face those dreadful stares that only reminded her that she was the receiver of their pity. Their eyes and silence said it all and only added to that vibrating ache, which rattled her bones.

She rather pull the pain from inside her and murder it, show it no mercy as it did her. The worst part was having to get up harvesting it, day to night, and night to day feeding it with salty, heavy, wet tears. Her spirit flooded, drowning her.

The only company she had was nature and its simple bliss, which she found herself envying. The warblers outside her window in the morning. Her garden full of vibrant daylilies, geraniums, irises and Shasta daisies. She maintained it in hopeful vanity, that her husband would return and glorify her and her garden as he always did. He’d say, “Laura, my honeybee has the most beautiful garden, she has magical hands. Lay those hands on me.” His laugh and smile rocked her core, sending shivers up and down her spine, traveling to the tips of her fingers and soles of her feet. She imagined they were jolts of electrical sparks.

Now the only evidence that Joseph even existed were his old white pick up truck, with rust stains near the tires, along with a leather brown recliner that was actually meant for the inside of a home. He would plop down in that chair after work and watch the sunset. Sometimes she heard his voice in the middle of the night. She would wake soaked in cold sweat and gasping for air.

Every morning she would make tea for herself and brew a cup of coffee. She never drank the strong black drink, but Joseph always did. She would brew a cup until the day she died. She took in the smell of the coffee which reminded her of her first and only love. Leaning against the sink, she would look out her window down the long rocky graveled road, until the sky seemed to meet the edge of Vogel Road.

She always would choose a particular work shirt of his, and walk the house in it trying to inhale his scent, pressing the collar to her nose. She recalled how much she used to hate that damned pale blue shirt, which after seemed an eternity of washing, still managed to look filthy. She smiled and sipped her ginger tea, wanting to withdraw within the large shirt, its hems brushing against her thighs.

She thought about how his chest would ease up and down as he slept slouched in his favorite chair. His beer between his hands, head hanging sideways, causing him to allow snores to escape. She laughed out loud remembering how they joked about his snoring, which she would swear it sounded like a worn out motor, just zzzzing away.

She sat in the chair, running her fingers along the ragged recliner‘s arms, which had water marks from exposure to rainfall. She shook her head, thinking about how much he had protested that the chair stay on the porch. She watched the sunrise and fall from that misplaced chair, looking down Vogel Road, longing for her lost love, zzzing away.

Gone Daddy Gone

2009-06-08T13:35:00.000-07:00

Daddy's gone
and momma's heart went with his footsteps
heel to toe
palm to fingertips
so I run

I remember his work boots, dirty
sitting by the door
momma clinging to them at night
her beauty so distant from day's sight
So I run

Daddy's gone
and momma's mind went with his footsteps
pushed far beneath the soil
as if he will root up from earths core
So I run

Daddy's gone
and momma's hope went away with his laughter
she lays between unwashed sheets
wishing they were his arms
fearful to lose his scent
releasing nothing but sighs, whimpers, along with shrieks calling his name
So I run

I run barefoot
until my soles are painted red, face wet
dodging the picture of her loveless eyes, the sound of his booming voice
ringing in my ears
and falling solid within me, echoing

Daddy's gone
and momma's presence followed with his shadow
All I saw was her forced love, which she mustered into a twisted smile
the last time she called for me
to sit with her for awhile, she and I weep
just until she drifted to sleep
as soon as her eyes shut
she would slip away
just as stars blanketing the night
and then came day

Daddy's Gone
Momma's forever sleep

and so I run