Retiring and New Blogs

The Chronicles of A Steel Magnolia is going to retire for a while, as she needs a face lift. To get a better focus, I have created two new blogs, more focus centered. Check out, "Savannah Serendipity," to learn and entertain you with accounts on love and about love, as my friends and I look for our, "MR. Big." For my short essays and poems check out, "The Steel Phoenix," and you meet a new writing persona.


Thanks:
The Chronicles of a Steel Magnolia

Aquimi Quimi

Aquimi Quimi, expel a little on my lil vaginniti’


Is to little lil’ missy-Mr. You…tripppin, for taller.

Shelter my thrust.

To my delight I expel you out.

Is there peace?

Can there be thugs a must?

No my ghetto rhapsody, pardon my extremity.

Clarity and they knew.

Hey speed, please relieve my prosperity.

-my tranquility is disturbing da’ rhythm of my beat to win the final overtake.

-to walk wit’ you, to walk for you?

I speak not!

Only rhythm and tappin’ aye turpentine spoiler, nappin’ and skipattin’ ran-sakin’ like my Chattanoogan-Motha-Masta’… Bessie Smith, herself …spattin’ to that trumpet.

-while we all follow like a jester to your drumin’ and scumin’

I leave out the dirty-‘dirty’ to have peace in da’ song.

Quit battlin’ and come to beastily’ yellin’ to teach them young-ones to stop.

Peace and beatin’

No way of treatin’ my mom, like yours.

Skip them beats, throw…draws sem’ sand brilliantly… let a new day be bumpin,’ so we can be bindin’ in a united spell

A Kiss of Friendship

Was it, when we took that first dance?

Did you studder? Did you partake in the sudden isthmic space in the rhyme?

To another end, your climb was it…fascinating or peculiar, when your…captivating and resilient inquisitive, green-mahogany eyes first spoke to mine?

Was it when, you Mr. Gentle-man came to my escape… to bring the extreme downtrodden to the rainbow?

Was it when your lips began to caress mine at half-speed, slipping and luxuriously,

-MOST exquisitely… partaking in the spirit of that VERY second, which YOU took a deep breath and your instant heart beat first launched….out of control?

Or was it as we kissed, you breathe….. “stop, wait, again, really is this happening?”

- Upon my life began a friendship which I do not know, and cannot foretell, while the willows grow and the leaves partake in another season?

What it in that instance you finished your discourse above the reasons not, but instead found in your heart rather, without thinking you took the lead?

Did you ever finish the deed that would start this friendship with the brilliance of that inquisitive first glance, in that monstrous first…..Instantaneous kiss?

Waiting, my Dear….Down my back I feel your glare. Then, amongst my hands, among…turning and spinning, I feel your harmonious breathe upon the air.

-You welcome no regard for thought, but only joy in the feeling of not caring at all.

I ponder in my curiosity…”Was it the hip-hop, the rhythm….the beat or the jazz?”

No I think, “the blues, which was orchestrated by the jazz, backed by the hip-hop and systematically dictated by the soul of the moment in which we could not move, could not anticipate, could not resist, and could not believe?”

-which was created in perfect harmony to the orchestrated chance and fusion of both, which brought the generosity of speed in the dance of the moments?

“ Was it just the dance or the spinning of our hips, projected from the splendor of the moon?”

-Oh, that first kiss, while the moon moaned and the glow of words could not be said, when i saw into and beyond your… green-mahogany eyes…..

Mighty…

Mighty….long awaiting the…kiss.

-“Does your eyes take a show to the mystery of the wait and to fascinate the speed?”
Of how mighty!!!!

….Mighty…

You kiss with the baptism of the dance, walking within the ‘swagger’ in the road.
The hymnal of defeat cannot antagonize the arrogance of your own rebellion.

Wow,” the glory of your might!”

- “What should I have done in the quiet here?”

But miserably, I find reassurance in faith can bring me home.

Take the prudence, pride, but do not keep the passion at bay.

But the miracle is nothing more than the distrust of my being trying to contemplate the plan, which has no certain end.

However, While I’m turning the channels I find glory in the presumption to my inquiry…

Well damn… “that, right there, homey”

“That, righty there,”

Again I say…did not expect!”
“that, right there!”

Mr.

Mr. Not Worth It.

Mr. Not My Style.

Mr. You Think I Am Crazy,

You Think I Jealous,

Selfish,

Arrogant,and All About Me.

Mr. Watch Me As I Leave You Brilliantly,
Right Out Of Your Life.

For if I am M. Retreat...
'Ms. Gotcha Off-Beat.'

Also, know that I am future Mrs. President...
A future Mrs. Success,
while you continued to be Mr. Fallow.

I am Ms. Authentic.

Ms. Christian, blessed with His Power to not listen to the woes of Mr. Bring Me Down,
by his Mr. I am Perfect spell.

-With your Mr. I am Trapped Within Myself Soul.

Goodbye, Mr. Not Worth It, Would Be Mr. Self Defeat.

i need a Mr. Encouraging.

A Mr. Neurotic, but Hero at the same time.

Not Mr. Lie.

I need a Mr. Rainbow His Own Treasurer Chest Sent With His Own Blessings.

What I need is a Mr. Self-Control,
and worthy to receive a divinely created and beautiful just Ms. "Lil ole Me."

I Flirt...

Antagonists? Yes, I have flirted with it.

opportunists? Yes, I have flirted with it.

Habits? Yes, I have flirted with it.

Cyclical vices to change my focus, and captivate my authenticity? Yes, I have flirted with it.

Social awkwardness, to reality, back to skepticism, back to clarity, back to social nothingness, to personal discovery of my youth? Yes, I have flirted with it.

Not to excuse my worldly complacency or vices, not to conform to the secular onslaught of horrendous euphemisms you think I took and repeatedly convey, no, not the wicked of those spirited dangers-before my growth is matured and harvested abundantly to grave detail? Yes, I flirt with it.

The simple solutions are the worst; I cannot find my choice, as ‘fickled’ as I am perceived to not find the answers to daily regiments? I flirt with it.

The brutal truth, and you find a tragic and formidable lie, again I let Him know the authenticity of my divine precision and legitimate, genuine chance-yes, I do and have flirted with it.

Ask me again do my words or my ideas make sense? So, I find the need to follow to society’s tradition or in-authentic and glamorous conveyance of societal norms? No, and I flirt with it.

My focus found by my mention with God and this pen? I flirt with it deliberately.

And as a matter of chance, I paint my feelings too? Very, analytically to the world, I suppose. But again I am mightily and preposterously, seen, to just flirt with it.

Politics-

Philosophy-

Feminism-

Mentorship-

I flirt too.

As a person I am seen a naive and robust child. My innocence comes back to afford you with a dream to not just flirt with it, for my own again. In the joy and love of my life, whether right or wrong, He leads me and others and myself on an unintentional escape to have faith, love, be compassionate, strong, weak, human, grow, mature, ignorant, knowledgeable, understanding, encouraging, different, and bold-so I can flirt with it.

TO flirt with all the faculties, functions and purposes of my divine and gifted life
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xZPMlCkDY8&NR=1

When Opposites Collide: the Pseudo -Blood-Brother Saga!!

Part one-the disastrous mess?!

I was intrigued this morning while observing two of my very close friends. The two are best guy friends who live together. They continuously annoy each other in everyday regards of simple house duties. However, I was reminded of the movie, “Knotting Hill.” One continues to ‘keep the house-up,’ while the other, "flat-mate,” does not hold a job regularly and tries desperately to keep order, but carelessly finds some way not to do it exactly right. For these two platonic-domestic partners, they have been friends for 20 years. And live together about 5 of them. SO, you can estimate they have a profound knowledge on how to deal with one another and cope with the significant rigors of arrogant annoyances they continue to tolerate. However, they now are weaning-in on a transformative stage in their process.

I came in and an observed them arrogantly pre-disposed with passive-aggressive conveyances of intrigue. One washes dishes...one item at a time, while the other allows all the items to pile up to create an entire sink-full of dishes, before he either does it or gets entirely distracted and never comes back to the task. In return of not coming back to the original task, the “Flat-Mate,” character, the more carless one fails to honor his regiment. In fact, the other more responsible party solves the dilemma by resolving the issue and just doing the dishes.

Now, why do I introduce this mere mundane and menial relationship? Because the plot has thickened, juristically; basically, the Responsible Party was gone for six (6 weeks) away on the road. The careless Flate-mate, although an extreme ‘type A’ has to regulate everything into a systematic chance of order, things are straighten; however, they are not clean. For all intents and purposes, we will call the Responsible Party, Mr. R.

Mr. R comes back. The floor is not vacuumed. Dishes are washed (since I did them). His room was not cleaned after a visit from a friend (sheets, bathroom, towels). To make matters worse, the walls were not painted for the house inspection coming-up to renew the lease.

The carless, Flat-mate, we’ll just call him Flat-mate.

So getting back on track, Flat-mate in a drunken-belligerent-stupor with his ‘Bro-hances’ or “Bro-steers’ injured two interior walls in the party/dining area, and while carrying a large television upstairs also injured the staircase walls. Now, you may ask? Why do you care? Well, not that you would at all?

However, now the two get very entertaining. Let’s get back to their lease renewal. Not happening. Why?

Part II. Should I intervene?

Flat-mate spills the beans, when asked by the neighbors, “What are they paying in rent?” Carless flat-mate without thinking informs the neighbors what they are paying. Why is it important not to tell? Because they knowingly, understand their neighbors moved-in after them, and are currently paying more. Mind you, all these scenarios are going-on without the consent or knowledge to Mr. R. Mr. R comes back to find his house in shambles, and now is informed by the Landlord rent is going up 30%. But wait!!!

Landlords just called again, Mr. R, now finds his rent through ‘cautious’ means has went from going-up, to the place being rented-out to another lease-holder entirely. At this time, Mr. R and Flat-mate must be out within two months.
The friends are in a disastrous zone. They do not communicate directly. I get caught in the middle.

Why? Because, for the sake of excluding conflict, they do not confront the other at all, they will tell you that is “how they work!” As complacent as all of the non-communication maybe, their dysfunction is functioning very well for them. As the saying goes, ‘If it is not broke, don’t fix it.’

Now, I find myself put-out of the zone of intrigue and passive-aggressive debate by the two dysfunctional brothers. However, they now find unity in their distrust of me and find unity amongst themselves. Now what happened to get to this point?
As you may guess when two friends of the opposite sex spend much fascinating time together, we were… what is the term the kids use today, oh yeah, “feeling each other.”

You are excited I see?
Was it Mr. R or the Flat-mate?

II. How does it end?

As carless as his tendencies persist, and as deprived as his common-sense maybe, I was, “feelin,” the Flat-mate. However, similarly to Mr. R, to get out of a ‘cyclical cycle’ as Flat-mate used to describe my afforded disposition with him, it was the other way around. You see, not taking responsibility and using excuses to progress your need for, “get-it-together,” and, “really?” will surround yourself with either losing those who get to a point where you just cannot deal with it, or accept it.

Given, that I have my own past that I working–on and am encouraged by a great group of non-discounted, few close buddies and MY GOD... I am growing. But in accordance to not being passive aggressive, I did honestly find myself reciprocating the effort of ‘cyclical’ montage of past events. The monotony, while playing the events back in my head like a ‘movie-reel’, I know that each time I went back (enjoying myself fiercely and un-excusably for a time) or would go to a new point of trying to work it out. Although, just some things cannot work out.

Until, Mr. Flat-mate is willing to grow-up and take responsibility, he will continue to pawn his awkward-internal world as a mystical and enlightening façade to the outer realm of real-life living. Rather, he may also have the option to receive a woman in his life who loves all his tendencies and will love him for him. What do I mean by this?

He is great at passing blame on onto others for his own mis-comings and patents each circumstance, as a dismissive fault onto others. Again he patents and is quite gifted in revealing your clear areas of improvement, but will not take his own recommended criticisms into belief and apply them to his own mature-needed growth.
Mr. R and Flat-mate were very re-united by a third intervening party. When asked on-line by a third party what happened with Flat-mate? I responded giving a vague comprehensive summary of the final, “I cannot take this shit anymore fiasco,” reported to the two 20 year ‘bro-hansters’ that I in fact called them gay. To the contrary, I reported in the final correspondence in the thread that “besides, lol, l can’t break-up their platonic domestic partnership, lol” jokingly. I guess they can kid around amongst themselves, but the theory is, “don’t mess wit my brudder!” lol.

No matter what I have, I had fun-times with Mr. R and Flat-mate.

I love them both and wish them the best.

I am "country strong" on Mother's Day.

I was watching the movie, “Country Strong,” and Beau says that Kelly Canter could not handle both fame and love (Sony Pictures, 2010). I wondered is this, ‘my fate?’ Is this why I have not stumbled upon someone to love me, for me? But what I can offer then? Or be a man’s trophy upon his arm. Or to be defeated by a façade which turns out to be again for recreational use? “Hmmmm, Is this my fate?”

I have felt closer to God than ever before, over the past few years. He has shown me that my greatest love cannot know me in that way, yet, because I took him for granted. “Is this my greatest vice?” I ask myself again.

The bike accident last week, the car accident. My grandfather gone. My mother going to a funeral for mother’s day. I struggle with friends who are not there for me, and others I do not have the trust with yet. I struggle with someone, God keeps from me.

I struggle with money. Then I live up to the public image while, I now struggle with alcoholism. I handle things on my own through mediation with my Farther. How hard it was last night letting Mother’s Day get to me, while relaxing and watching this very intense movie. I wanted to reach for the bottle of Jack, I harbor upon the top first shelf of my hanging bookcase separating my small efficiency kitchen from the main room of my very humble one-room studio apartment.

I wanted to call Chuck my best friend, whom I prayed to not exactly replace another friend. But, truth is the other friend is now getting married and has cut me off from his life living in his own imaginative world. He told his now fiancé, I wanted be in a relationship with him. You can gather I never did and still do not. However, I lay vast… by myself tormented and praying. I want the taste of the Jack in my mouth to relax me and remedy my problems. Then again, I know I cannot. How I urge to use! How I desire Jack to be my device of relaxation.

Then, I stopped because the defeat cannot be of my own making. Drinking till I cannot stop with gut-wrenching exposure to very high-risk behavior. I cannot transpose myself to the misery upon the taste of that bottle. I stopped.

I understood the character of Canter, someone once strong-dying to her own devices; she giving into her bad self-abusing habits (Sony Pictures, 2011).

Then again, I talk to ‘Chuckles’ and let all come out!?

He asks, “have you eaten?”

I say, “no!” As I try to push him away.

Then I say, “Yes, I have eaten well today. That is now, what it is. I haven’t written or painted in a while.”

He says, “Carry, you need to let it out!”

He says, “Maybe you should get back to yourself.”

Then my phone dies. I watch the rest of the movie. I remember the sadness I felt when I lost both grandparents, while going through puberty, lost my first love, my best friends all pushed me away, and I became a prisoner within my own world.

I remember the poem I first wrote, contemplating the horrors of death and trying to figure out, “why?” And then I became obsessed with the idea of death. it Just so happened, while I remember that summer watching an old series of, “ Dark Shadows,” (Dan Curtis Productions, 1966-1971) with my mother, I discovered the character of Barnabus Collins, and Elizabeth Collins, who were buried alive. Coincidentally, ‘Vicki’ on, “One Life to Live,” (ABC, 1993) was also experiencing the same story-line.

Comparatively, I felt almost like I was buried alive by the world who seeks to exploit and seek division in me.

I had no one: My mom working, my farther sick with epilepsy & his normal health problems. I remember this was the defining summer of my 14th year of existence. I began to transform and discover myself through writing and self-reflection.
Now, I draw back and understand the new premise for my existence through all the turmoil, I face with God: testing me in order to understand my future blessings.

I stop as I am about to fall asleep and remember the words I first wrote on paper……
I am drowning deep in my sleep…
…… in a coffin dead but alive.
Pouring aloud with ideas in my head.
No time for worry or sorrow.
Free from sickness and pain.
Just enough time to be Rushing free like a bee that just won’t die.
Fleeing endlessly, flying to another sky.
But again I lay a steel magnolia buried 10 degrees deep…..
Buried alive!

I added the last two lines, which I do not completely remember to describe how I feel, dealing with my new captivity from my disease of alcoholism. I can conquer alcoholism myself! Who is my sponsor? God, Jesus, Christ; and best friend, Chuck, who listen’s without repute. He gives me God’s grace as His vessel and to keep me away from harming self-defeat.

Now time to paint and self-reflection!

A Tribute to A Soul Lost

• I am in love with your spirit and the integrity, trapped within the cages of your interior.
While, I will always want you I am taken with your friendship and indebted to your guided protection.
Your tears of guilt and sorrow illuminate my heart with the integrity you shine on me.
Oh! sweet Sagittariious lay your sweet lips upon this Virgonian breast with your sultry might!
Be my first class tempter in my escape to trust in the unknown...
As I lose control, I allow you to be my Beowolf.
And I your Austin, my 'Muslim wanderer'.
Just like you were intrigued with me when I told, "You to come with me,"...
... I am in intermission awaiting for the only man strong enough for me.
-To take his lead
-To have his turn to control me.
There I will be your great sense to the extraordinary and profound life of a Steal Magnolia, "keepin it real," awaiting for her King to take his thrown.
Oh, Beowolf! Overcome the known and have the courage to declare victory of your fear!
Be that is of what Gods beckonath to be...
To be one and set our single hearts free!
Partake in the destiny we hold.
You are the Ying...
The missing puzzle piece of the Yang.
In unison we are the stronger.
Alone you are the wiser strand of subtlety.
And I am the sensibility of the degree of my feminist forethought.
While, I alone am the stronger and bolder...
MY pride to succumb to the prejudice of your masculine adversity...
My heart is reserved for your invitation..
While God keeps me captive...
I the prisoner to await the journey ahead.
He shall keep me at peace till your anointed destiny is taken in full armor.
Your fullest potential and position... .....that level tis not reached
But when you come, you will be that of the great, which will be the master of the highest in the throne of 'Kings of Ole'.
Now, we are the souls of a passionate phenomenon to compel the harmonious flow.
Sir take your road, and together when you unite with me, we will rule together with victory, unity and truth.
Rather than past complete pandemonium in our lives...
We are the cultivation and the manifestation of irreparable completion.
You are my end....
...Until, I am gone and completely taken by the wind and disintegrated in the clay.
I am your best...
...And your retreat
Until tomorrow due what whilst show...
But for now, I am driven to wander in the unknown
Till my spirit reunites with your physical body, I am in the depths of Your thoughts and in the presence of your understanding.
I am within you...
... As you within I.
And together we are united in Jehovah, God, Allah in Christ.
I thought my joy was taken by another and was lost forever...
...But your flavor was blessed upon me and my joy is alive and redeemed inside me.
The formula was the Gift of God to be eternally connected for all time.
I'm not your prisoner in your captivity.
I'm am the saved one.
I am the glorified.
I am of the anointed.
You through God brings revived strength.
You bring me into my adult life.
For what I find in you alone, is a we!
Oh, blessed hero come rescue me!
I'll be here...
Just speak the word.
We are the enlightened.
We are the foundation.
We are the achieved.
We are not the failed.
For if you give me your wisdom,
I'll give you my heart.
Let's be the truth!:)
Now Sir proclaim Amen...now that I've told you that I Love You!:)

Destined Place

• When the electricity between our two hearts collide a cosmic reaction occurs.

Like when the red ferns are in bloom.

When destiny penetrates there is only one certain resolution-

There is no certain end.

Why adapt when thy can confront?

I a carpet bagger search for humble retreat.

The atonement of thy mercy is pressed within thy womb.

Give me a thimble and I will give you a mountain.

Give me your spirit and I will give you my soul.

Give me only modest courtesy, will only bring defeat.

A transaction is a must...

Yield prosperous inquiry...

And you shed no defeat.

Definitive purpose...

Vicarious spoil...

The garden in harvest...

The berries aboil stew mischief indeed...

The witch casts her spell, I run in worried escape....

I flee to my destined place.

The Shrangrila persists with only God and I alone.

Till he casts me down below the wandering clouds...

I am reserved for proper use.

You are intrigued to your own discovery and education of self worth

I the legendary...

recall no time...

But the will of your disenchantment is the revolution you must leave.

To withdraw is to bring Genesis to anew...

I am immersed in glory and relief.

Arthur come..

I is yours.

Till tomorrow
Till tomorrow
Till tomorrow

When the rivers come to the sea...

I float immersed in the constant flow...

Till the Mississippi reaches the Atlantic..

I wait
I wait
I wait.

Till you come to our...
To our
To our

Destined place.

• The Changing Rhythm in the Storm of Time

Underappreciated

Nostalgic sentiments

Memories Spoken

Reality Drifts Away

With the tides of turmoil

And Storm of Change

Clouds busting and raining

Regret ALAS

Spontaneity

Convicted Disbelief

Convoluted Trespasses

Undermining Hate

Defeat not reckoned

Physical Agility

To halt

To Stop

BREATH

Let it go…

Mental thirst quenched

Thirst for change…

..Stopped

Defeated by practicality

Give to earnest credibility

…to hasten sensibility

Let it assimilate you…

Let it motivate you as you whisper gloriously to your heart

To circulate your mind

A new birth of ambition…

A new birth of freedom…

Recollect your tenacity…

However pardon those who are not equipped to understand

Drum beat

Drum beat

Pitter pat

String bellows

A rat-tat-tat

An anthem of Witt to multiply audacity

Public question motive as you offer a bountiful rebuttal

As you say to another, "hear them, it is not that they ask why, but as they do not, you ask why not?"

And you conclude fate and wisdom to the Ode of 'Pub-like debate'….you eloquently

..But not tragically concur that guilt is a human mechanism designed to broadcast insecurity and a willfully desired deduction to enact servitude to cheat and ignore change

BUT you know that change is a way of life…

And while it can break you, you know change is a mighty tale of honor…

Folklore you know this

Harness independence

Seek an agenda...But harness happiness in the beauty of the moment

..Then look back mitsfully

Let it give you a brief kiss of the past…

…To hold you in a delicate moment…

….a vacation from the regular and normalcy of today…

It is only a brief encounter of happiness, but one to carry you over from this glorious day to the sun-setting dawn of tomorrow…

Away you drift….

……drift away….good sir…..

Let it keep you, while you silently and secretly…..drift away…………………………………………………………………

………………………………………………………Drift into the wilderness of change.

Constraints of “Bridalism”

Constraints of "Bridalism"

In the endocrine façade of society, let it not be conveyed or construed to at the depths of stereotypes in patriarchal views, womens' constraints are still robust and identified as they are blended to ideological necessity, and passed on as tradition. The multitude of the ants march and observe the presence of loneliness or their perception of an individual acting alone. Rather than trying to paint a story or imagine a practicality for the individual sitting alone, the individual is attacked from eyes as bright and illuminating as the great grey owl who almost stumbles past to observe a ring. In the modern public-sphere cannot a woman sit alone and enjoy her best company and friend, who also happen to be oneself. I define "bridalism" as the modern, historical constraints of views and perceptions which do not diminish the presence of specific-societal-norms that apply to married women, specifically in America today.

What constitutes a loss of independence for married women, which beseeches even the brightest capacity to think without the indulgence of masculinity? Are not my own ideas, mine to breathe and to whisper to others? Are not my philosophies, not mine to bear? Are not my passions, mine to dream, and are not my bridges not mine to leap? Women are beings who are not threatening and not incapable of thought. Women are however, equal in mind to men. So how can society negate that married women need their husbands to define their minds and condemn them to a travesty of dependence.

Dependence to pursue modern poverty of mind and spirit to feel as second in line, as a second class, in some way the brightest protestor, the "Cher Icon," the Shirley McClaine, Opra Winfrey and even Dolly or Loretta Lynn sacrificed something. A characteristic of normality for fortune and fame, Opra with her independence from children and the diagnosis of non-wedding bliss and no component of dominated power of the contractual form; Loretta is the fighter of an abusive husband and forbidden young marriage to an older man, who committed his existence to building her persona than his idea of her, rather than her true soul, while utilizing her to populate his legacy in the special Kentucky tradition; Cher who married twice or chastised her love to preserve herself , rather than to conform to the providence of male dominance and egocentrism to predominate his passion, rather than her own.

The cue is to have Bridalism introduce purity amongst gender to equalize the playing field, between pro and con, and offense and defense. Elizabeth, in her own time would never marry and give-up her purpose. Today, I can and will do both. I'd rather defeat bridalism, than have a ring or certificate defeat GOD. However, because I am a member of faith, I see beyond that of Modernity and Christendom. I am we, merged interdependence, and rather a complex dynamics of a new construed creation. The interdependence between the two who are equality and balance, a new inauguration of feminine and masculine traits, whether by the female or the male, the details are the frosting, which withers away, while the main construction is mostly the dominance of the team.

Then the team is reported as reputable, rather than disorder. The two are a partnership of "Bridalintegracy. " Bridalintegracy is defined as an integral component and necessity to combine preferred traits to establish a new identity to provide for love and success on the matrimonial agility of existence on earth.

Matrimony is the defined, greatest gift of partnership and relationships given by divine creation. Matrimony is the beginning and the end of adulthood. It is sometimes chosen, sometimes not. However, it is the complexity of social attention and the essence of life. Matrimony is furthermore, a blessed sacrament not to conceal servitude and widening dependence. Matrimony is neither, but to console the body-cast in its peak of enlightenment and sweetest serendipity, the illuminating peculiarity of not knowing, but the equality of man and female in the like of the Bridalintegracy, "to have and to hold, to cherish, as long as thee shall live," in body, mind and spirit.

Subtlety

The road to subtlety is embarked by strategic clarity and motivation that is all their own. A forthright contemplation of integrity and contemplation to bestow brilliance in existence, it is intrigued by passion and a beast of honor. We meet conformity of common-law in the structural components that define society by that which is defined by remnants of the past. Simplicity, non-materialistic human traits diverged with a complex-heart, differs from mainstream presumptions of servitude in the homo-sapien realm of feelings. To comply or deny, all who kneel to change, must allow a necessary sacrifice.

For a sacrifice negates the very will one must follow to intercept mediocrity, and beset a degree of competing alarms of insult to air imagination. Sanity is intrigued by nothingness and an inquisitive strength in bliss, and the saleable right to carry with it an elastic normalcy.

Look no farther…there is a solace in the independent-modern road of state, which produces tranquility in the being. Meanwhile, like a kiss upon the mind that blows with a bolst of fresh breath from the sea, harvesting new ideas, that becomes the labyrinth of modeling-robust tendencies, contemplating the flavor of open-mindess to producing new organic ideas. Babies, from the kiss upon the mind which beseeches power to give offspring favor to a legacy. Then at the brink of discovery, thy neighbor waves to you, as a welcoming gesture to greet your new knowledge.

The newfound mother, farther, parent or guardian greets the impurity, the impurity is sanctioned as a worthy broadcast. The knowledge is mass-produced, without an inquisitive mind to ponder on the legitimacy of the source, but as a normal patron to society, when the patron takes the knowledge at face-value and interlays the speech to trickle into conservation and discussion. The information is shared after a multitude of participants' share this ideological balance, perceptions change and the stead-fast theory becomes a national book…a best seller. The best-seller is now produced as a legitimate literary-masterpiece to children of philosophy. The subtlety which bears no ground of breaching the mold, but vast in the manner of integrating the soul and mind to modernize oneself, by acting within the confines of mainstream regulations of society and the authority, which becomes law from the partnership and negates a satisfaction and bliss of ignorance in acceptance. The road to subtlety is paved with the sacrifice of the mainstream, owning the complexity of government. The majority therefore rules the proletariat before the revolution.

The Hours

Where does human suffering loose faith in God, so tragically that to give one's life, rather than bestow friendship and trust in the lord, thy Jehovah?


In the Movie, The Hours, (Reinartz, 2002), an author, a man, "Richard" questioned why must he live and suffer so? For the sake of others, who want him to...for the companionship, for the memorial gifts of sacrifice? His self-preservation must exist to merely exist, for the sake of satisfying others? He asked, "who is there for the hours before and the hours after, when are the hours between are occupied" (Reinartz, 2002).




The hours before and after, one is left alone, who is there? The character councils not to relieve himself, from the personal torment of suffering, He councils to move, but to persist, while his inquiry did not satisfy a spiritual conclusion. Only a rather worldly perspective, the brilliance and trust is that even in the depths of loneliness, in the evil-abyss of humanity and Earth, a miraculous event takes precedence, in one definite place for a fortunate few. For me, in particularly, it is a simple gesture, in the early hours of the morning, lying comfortably in my bed, in my own personal realm of inquiry. In this realm, I question and answer life's obstacles and question matters: why, because, how did this or that come about, why must this or that suffer, what is the purpose of that, what will be the outcome, solutions and how can that change help? In this state of ugliness and extremely bad halitosis, I find a beam beckoning and a signal of light through the clean-white blinds, with ecstatic intensity, focusing fantasma upon the walls.




The light suggests that I do have a friend after all; I do have a reason for existence. I suffer to find why God drains me, and brings me back to him, to depend on the most essential thing, to exist to have life and to depend on GOD. For he created Earth, the stars, men and the beckoning light, glowing to awaken me from inquiry in the lovely hours of the morning. Through one simple sparkling instance, a fantastic entity, as even as minuscule as a star illuminating, to give even the worst suffering pleasurable-breath, means that honor is and life is something we must all bear. There is something we must suffer and live for, life…in the hours before and after. We must have faith.




Faith spends time with God, Jesus the Jehovah, the Lord our Savior… in the hours before and the hours after, not in-between. For he is the truth, for sometimes he must taketh away all things, to show us the glory and the truth in the light.




I leave with one final thought: resonating evil can only persist if you allow it. If you pray for change God will bring change, satisfying that change. Maybe not what you want or when you think you need it, however, he will bring change. How you need it, when you need it, for he is the greatest and final authority…He is GOD. My glory and greatest lover…is GOD!




Works Cited

Reinartz, J. (2002). The Hours.

Human Connectivity in Change

A silent queue

Strategic-over deserving defeat

A personal accomplishment

Mark

Change Indeed

Reflections

Teamwork

Sworn enemies

Alliances

Friendship

Change

Problem-solving

LOVE

Charisma,

Unspoken connections

Change

Growth, triumph, from one fear and intentional

Beckons relief

Fluidity

Breath

No overcastting zealousness…Integrating consciousness

Just visions of personal achievements

Change

An interlocking capacity to cope and speak

The presence of everything worthwhile

Change

Supporters…bystanders

Lovers

Critic’s and integral masterminds of

Change

The components of preferences

The supporters of unesteemed difficult, presence of

Change

The anthem of personal growth

The legend of success

The heroes of loss

The synergy of common passions

The travel to a collective end

Each a stepping stone

A buildable block of

Change

The silence of the deserved victory

The acknowledgment of personal enlightenment defeating fear and

Brilliance of learning humility

Change…in very essence

Trusting and knowing

We have a common thread

Change

A Midnight Savannah Stroll

Stop

Smell the essence of spiritual serenity

Of serendipity

Of the sensual elegance of spirituality

I feel your countenance stroking my hair through the breeze that whispers at night,

Walking in the damp Savannah Street

The glistening glow, of the street moonlight, sparkling past my foresight

I hear………the steps

Beating

One foot

One path

One rhythm

At a time.

I hear the trumpet

The guitar

I feel the might of the lady’s, up-tempo bolstering singing

The aroma of the water….dripping

The tip….and the tap of the rain

…ringing the therapeutic eloquence of Kapolei’s

And the Dr. Tubby and his Berkley Professor’s poetry of rhyming of song blessed with the brilliant immortal gift of god’s

Savannah night AIR!

The Countenance of Women’s’ Flow of Serenity

• The Countenance of Women’s’ Flow of Serenity


Allude to the fascinating and wonderful world of men,

Who call women hypocrites and who fall to their bestowed and comfortable demise?

Majestically surrounded with an abundance of inequities who they often call and target distrust

…To women for honing such personal qualities.

How dare this breed feel that we shall be hindered to have such a title or ill-will of state?

To honor tragedy as discomfort, and realize the invalidity is such an apposing viewpoint?

The character may portray as mighty, much fascination with feminine quality, they seem to retreat.

However, we often unify to build, to strengthen, to invest and nurture society…

…we unify to fight for freedom, rights, and we sacrifice.

Men bring prejudice, presumptuous, often, relentless discomfort of the soul.

Men bring factions within the societal/political mold.

Men bring discomfort, incest, rape, murder and hate.

Men then with their lower incompetent strain of human order…rather than the intellectual Godly mind; they bring cardinal-insult and violate their mentors.

Men prey on innocent supporters, but yet, will not desire more.

Undeserving of eloquence that the gentle, brilliant, strength of magnolias, display.

Observe the echoing magnolias’ breed…the fight, the frivolous, heart-mourning trade.

The love of a mother, the advice of a confidant, the melancholy stride, the worldly sacrificial lamb

The assertive shrew, the empowering heart-stomper, the matriculating vessel of viciousness to push for change and peace for offspring….and advice for clarity…

…nothing that man can have the capacity to achieve…

…head for women impedes the humility to take overt power…

…Not the disorder of men and fear.

The Martyr

My spirit is broken, my wounds are clear

The cloud cries out, cheering defeat in splendid array

Unmasked with uncertainty

The castellan band banters near, with exuberant drums proclamating victory

Everyone casts judgment

No one wants fault

All who support have withdrawn their endorsements

All shadows are hidden, foretelling involvement at best

When vanity is achieved, all fall with tragedy beneath their knees

Persistence in clarity

Slay the beast with hardened stride

Strength stricken and incapacitated with exhumed fear

Brilliance in the crowd, achievement in death

All cry, "Slay her!"

The knife of necrosis upon her breast, she stands with pride

She decrees commiseration

The mice display no mercy

Extinction demands nurture

Her reputation is evident

The highest level of uncertainty

She is a martyr

For she bestowed brevity when she sacrificed her very existence

However,

In the end,

Only GOD

Could take away her freedom and loving spirit.

Jane Austin and Marraige

What prejudice do you encounter in marriage?

Can a woman not marry for love?

Is marrying for love….doing the unthinkable?

Can a woman not be prideful, audacious, independent and married?

Why must sacrifice always precede all ends?

IS this the burden that women must succumb themselves to?

Mere stoic-burdened-will…

…the ill-fate of misfortune?

To have the capacity to both love and be the sacrificial purpose of servitude to career?

Why must others limit actions in possibilities in the portrayal of life to society?

Is it ’better to have loved them’ to be retracted AND retreated, to the joyful melody, and treacherous defeat of one’s character, charm and spirit?

Then who recalls the splendor of rage and excitement.

What controls the line of sprit and mind?

Is the mind, one’s only true beast of freedom?

Is sacrifice the adulthood of knowing what truly is pleasurable and the one thing you cannot have,

The true key to success?

Is the dictionary, the nature of fantasy and success?

Is success being submissive to postpone and to disregard pleasurable tenacity?

Then all those who have a mediocrity, perspective in financial disdain, who have a place and love to give purpose?

Are those who are successful…these individuals?

Can life truly be just that God cannot give heaven on earth, to discredit peace in heaven?

Is this the true nature of pride and discrimination in marriage?

Weakness

My earthly and worldly counterparts criticize my communicative approach to language and movement through debate, as weakness. They question my good judgment and my transgressions. The fortitude I bestow in presentation stems as seemingly ludicrous to the vast majority of the population, who presume that I am incompetent and lack logic when drawing conclusions on subject matter. However, I refute these preposterous and exhausted assumptions on grounds of narrow-mindess, lacking a degree of intellect, based on a prejudice. Prejudice, not of race, color, sex, gender or the like, but mainly on the disdain of character, which is not boastful, but heartfelt, threatening-assertive-echoing-charismatic speech. Not insulting as most would presume, but eagerly desiring approval from the population in attendance. Am I worthy of such pleasurable insult, or a victim of disorder of conduct, as portrayed by others? Prejudice of advancement, prejudice of power-audible charisma, prejudice of those who are not seen as equal, but mighty and threatening, threatening to achieve more, to desire more, to surpass common goals and to constantly challenge oneself to attain brilliance by not settling for mediocrity…but excellence. Excellence by not becoming satisfied, but exuberantly thirsting, hungry, and starving to the brink of a total death in a metamorphic state of despair of strenuous and deserted torture. Torture which is equality, equality through practice of success, as is the outcome of undisputed-incomparable hard-work. Prejudice act as a clear indicator of jealousy of striving critics, who disguise this human character-traits, as presumptuous weakness. So, are those who judge, the exemplary vessels of hypocrisy, who are truly the critics of their own, true weakness. Victims who seek to dominate and dismantle individuals who are threatening in a naturally, empowering-perpendicular direction of leadership.

Weakness embodies the solidarity of the human 'need' to prey and destroy great leaders who bestow strength, honor, integrity and patriotism towards a utopian dream. Still, prejudice is the driving force of love and hate, as humans are consumed by their own insecurities and distrust in society itself. Weakness then, is nothing merely but a tool of contemplation, and a device used as a method to seek insecurity in a stronger population, by those of the weaker breed to seek disorder and deficiencies in the more vehemently chosen few, who embody humanity and compassion… themselves.

CONTROVERSY

IT STRIKES ME
ITS TRANSPOSES ME
IT IS MY HARBORED WORST ENEMY…
…IT IS ME!!
IT IS MY CONSCIENCE…IT IS MY EXISTENCE
I AM THE ENTITY DOMINANTLY, CONFESSED AND WITNESSED TO BE CONTROVERSY.
WHAT IS IT?
WHAT SURROUNDS,
WHAT IRRITATES YOU…
WHAT AND WHO BRINGS JOYFUL LOVE OR HARDENED PAIN
...YOUR OWN WORST LOVE…
ALTHOUGH VERY EXUBERANT
AND THE TENACITY AMONGST IT.
ENTERTAINING LOVE THAT YOU REGRETTABLY WANT TO FORGET.
BUT PAINSTAKINGLY CANNOT SURPASS…
WHAT…
THE MEMORIES THAT EXCITE YOU…
…THE MEMORIES THAT WARRANT FEELINGS YOU CANNOT SUPPRESS…
THE CONTROVERSY OF AN INDIVIDUAL NAMED FOR ETERNITY…
…………….AS CARRY!!!