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Bring in “Today” with Brandelyn Castine

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Brandelyn Castine!

My buddy! (With her Simba hair,lol)

I can’t even begin to tell you the love and respect I have for my friend who will bless my blog with a guest poem today.  She goes my the alleged name of Brandelyn Castine and she is a fantastic poet, author, (published… fancy, huh?)and friend.  I really wanted to feature a poem by her to help celebrate National Poetry Month and to give her a little extra excited energy since she is releasing a new book very very soon!  To learn more about this amazing human being visit her website.   Here is her poem:

picture of a calendar

not yesterday. not tomorrow. but today.

Today

Today i am immune to negativity
Immune to the concept that laughter is a foreign language
And joy can only be shaken forward through a forbidden tongue
Today i embrace the wind
The fragrance captured in the leaves
The orange tanginess of lemon drops
The moments smoky with soft kisses and stolen glances
Today i embrace the questions
And challenge the doubts
My head aches from over thinking the lines and rhythms and confines of this poem
Keeping me tucked away from the issues and shades of gray
Today over thinking is a mystery
And my hips are exactly the shape and size they should be
Because today, finally, i am walking in the fullness and liberty of joy
Yes today is my day
And i choose to believe
That i can fight and wrestle for my sunshine
And win
That i can catch it with both hands
Slide it into a quiet place
And sing sweet soft lullabies
Reminding it that happiness is ours
And we can play in this world we have created
For as long as we choose
Because in the land of today
The hands of the clock rest on satisfied and content
The breezes taste like cinnamon
And we lay here
Silently basking in this feeling
that goodness is real
And the moments that are being strung together
Will be captured on a canvas
Colors melting into the definition of
Today

 

Poetry

Guest Poet Monday: Death of a Genius

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One of my favorite people on the internet is a very brilliant dude by the name of Lateef.    His view on the world, social commentary,  and fabulous mind has always fascinated me.  So I am very glad to share him with my readers.  The poem I am going to present to you is his first (and only) single from his upcoming all poetry book,“2003-2007: The Death of a Genius”, coming sooner than later. (I will definitely keep you updated).  You can find him at http://www.deathofagenius.com/ or @deathofagenius on Twitter.

death of a genius

that dude!

Struckthrough

Your fingerprints remain in the corners
of every unread page, bleeding out to black
in her diary, screaming for attention
from under pillows, promised virginity,
lied to in omissions of love and stained sheets
that gave everything away. From the first entry
that said she didn’t love you, struckthrough.

the things that fingers do

like leave behind evidence
and hold pens that leave behind
evidence and everything gets left behind,
evidently. innocence was taken with them
that day. this day, they wiped away tears,
one escaped and wrinkled her feelings
perfectly on that page. get painted.
they painted that picture you still love
and can’t look at. wrapped around
your index and you knew she loved you
when she was younger.
but, it’s struckthrough.
and that means whatever you want it to.
today

Poetry

Guest Poet Mondays: Candace J

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How do I make Mondays wonderful?  By bringing awesome guest poets, of course!  Today’s guest is a huge talent and (in her words) “We ‘stan’ united for Badu”.   That lets you know the breadth of her fabulousness!  Today’s guest poet is the lovely Candace J, (@InHerNotebook on twitter). Show her some love!

Candace J Guest Poet
Isn’t she adorable?

I am the girl who has it all together when IT only depends on me. For all other parties involved there is this app called Notepad detailing my thoughts:

-Caught in an angle of song-
Kind of how Green Eyes still cuts deep
And now how I sigh when she justifies my insanity is Just In Time
For a while I was undercover; a Nina Mosley, shattered, talking blue linings in red clouds
Thinking you’d conclude this movie with the same urgency and recognition of the Jones pouring down
Does Love take intermissions?
Will Love ever see the fool being made of me in this contraption of sound?
I always get choked up when she sings the completion:
‘you can’t be what i need you to’
questioning why he’s still considered
‘and i don’t know why I f*** with you’
when he can’t be the love that I need in him
I hear that thinking about your feelings won’t bring them any less meaning
Even if you say it cleverly you’re still showing me I’m the only one that can’t do without
I didn’t even have to repeat to resonate with what that “You’re Loving Me” track was all about

I’m becoming numb to this unwarranted punishment

It’s not so terrible that I’ve got your ends, Benz & friend
…maybe it’s not the song I’m stuck in

Poetry

Ron Jolla – Guest Poet Mondays

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Every Monday I will feature a guest poet on the blog.  If you would like to submit a poem please send it to naturallyalise@gmail.com.   Today’s guest poet is Ron Jolla.  He is no stranger to this blog, see his past work here: http://naturallyalise.com/blog/?tag=mr-jolla.  Also visit his tumblr blog: the shorter version.

I never thought about writing

in an attempt to honor thy father…

I rather chose to tackle topics

battling my inner demons,

or what my heart’s feeling…

It never occurred to take time out

to present him with my poetic flowers

in both phonetic & written dialect

so his eyes and ears could smell them.

My father is the reason I exist.

A lot of my ways I get honest,

handed down to me directly…

from a proud family man

who guided & shaped my life

until I no longer held his hand…

and even then, he remained.

There are countless women I’ve encountered

who would probably wish to thank him…

because he was the father in power

A gentleman that showed me how to be one.

And for those women whom I’ve made mad,

that was all me; he had no hand in that.

For those whom I’ve lent time, money & my ears,

he is who has shown me selflessness thru the years.

Aristotle calls it virtue…

living in a way to become a hero,

an admirable individual, a saint,

so one’s life becomes a work of art.

Hundreds of people arrived on March 4th,

to take a final glance at the artist…

whom had finally ceased creating

beautiful, graceful & impactful art

that we refer to as his life.

And that was the grandest picture

that these eyes have ever witnessed.