Rue Beloved Gono

  The Bilayer Of Existing = something that has two significant sides to it. The title tells us that the poem is mostly to speak about the two sides of life: The land of the living and the land of the dead. Stanza 1 - Introduces the idea of illusion. how someone who might look okay and shows no physical signs of being sad or depressed might actually be going through a lot. You can't hear them cry but that doesn't mean they are not sad or troubled inside. They might not see a reason to live at all even if they seem to be doing well on the outside. Stanza 2 - the last line of the first stanza introduces the idea of suicide or an attempt at it. This stanza defines the attempt as having failed. As somewhat of a spiritual person I believe in the power of words and prayer. So at a previous point in ones life you could have prayed for protection or mercy from God to save your life not actually knowing when those words would come into play. At the time of wishing you would die, God r...

  A Sad Poem : the title is simple, in contrast to the other work I had put out before this that almost always had some metaphor for a title. The poem itself has some complex parts but it all falls under this simple title. The title is also identifying what kind of poet I am. and how I may not change that just because sad things make people uncomfortable Stanza 1 + Poem structure : the poem takes the form of a few lines that are spoken out loud by the speaker and some in parenthesis, to indicate thoughts that are not said out loud. The thoughts are not said out loud because they may be seen as rude, and too honest, and are almost always in defense to what is previously said. The speaker almost wants to be heard but isn't quite ready to say what's on her mind so she unwillingly, compromises, by telling half truths. Stanza one is simply a thought she shares with us. We see that she longs to feel a joy that she seems to not be able to feel when she is by herself. Perhaps indicatin...

  Blogpost 0808 – KU Publication   Pheeeww what a month this past week has been. My last blog post  I went on rambling about how we need to better ourselves by moving from our pain. This one is slightly of an administrative nature since what I was meant to blog about today, is not ready yet.   *Crickets*   About two weeks ago I announced that there would a new book published on Kindle unlimited and that you guys should look out for my next blog post because I would be talking about it. I had hoped that by the time, the book would be ready but sadly it is not. With semester two under way at school my YouTube channel up and running a bunch of side hustles I got going on to pay for the various bills that are accumulating, the final process of editing and finalizing the details of my chap book has been a rather slow process. I cannot not gift you an un-cared for project. Hence I will dedicate a day a week to simply work on it and put my heart into it s...

I have been thinking a lot about victimization and the right to complain. Tightly coiling both those topics together is the right to be human and to exist. In a poem I put up on my Instagram story a few weeks ago titled: Basic Human Decency; I talk about how certain things that are supposed to be a given in our society aren’t. Basic things like respect and love and something as simple as recognition. With that in mind, I recognize that we’re living in a society that heavily puts attention to each other’s faults and on areas that we may not have been paying attention to before. Along with that heavy load of information that we should not complain about but rather commit to educating ourselves one social issue at a time, there are so many people choosing to hold on to their shortcomings and misfortunes for dear life. Something like someone not recognizing you and who you are, that they or something hurt you, though it is a hurtful thing that shouldn’t be happening but it is not a cri...

POEM 1 She told me it was worth it, that I should go ahead  Told me to give all my heart  Then she took it all away  She sent her daughter, Love to come mingle inside me  Made me break every rule then threw me out at sea I stood there on a cliff that had two ends to its name  Forced to choose, I chose my life  I would be happier this way Now out at sea, I worry about the one I left on the cliff  I pray he won't jump after me for surely he will not live I pray that remembers that the love we shared was real  That I would have made it last forever and ever if only it was Her will I won't curse Fate's children For all the pain they have caused Because they hold my future and could keep me from my man  But maybe it's not the end, Maybe they'll bring us together some day maybe that's the plan. ... Thank you for your support on this blog. I appreciate it more than you will ever know. This weekend there are few announcements. The first one is that t...

Hey folks, welcome back! I’ve been reeling in a lot of new readers  as well so if you’re new here, welcome bunny!! Lovely to have you! Today we’re talking about a poem from Little Girl Blue titled You-man Nature . Earlier this week I posted an excerpt of the poem on my insta story with the caption: “This poem is about sex and fornication.” With a bunch of cheeky emojis following. Whilst this caption wasn’t lying I’d like to dive a little deeper into the backstory of the piece. This poem is one of the shorted pieces in Little girl Blue for the simple reason that I had one thing to say and it didn’t need too many metaphors to get the idea across (As is with many things – I just get over excited sometimes).   That idea being there are more important things in life than sex. AND WE ALL KNOW THIS but do we act like it? I remember one evening sitting in the car with my parents driving back from what I recall as probably a church event. I was much younger than I am now and th...

I couldn’t find the right words to say to you so I thought I should— Lie. Would you, do you care? Or maybe I could say the truth that is in my heart; spit the Vulgar emotion that Exists inside me, been made free and careless as a Yokel seeing New York City for the very first time Over and over Under the radar, I will keep on Loving, liking, maybe lusting. Keeping myself in your Orbit, never touching, only hoping I don’t lose my Virtue so as to not Emerge out of and fall into Your ability to trap and teach Others to behave in an Ungodly manner

MILK AND HONEY – A REVIEW I recently purchased my copy of milk and honey by Rupi Kaur (Finally) and I am here to share my thoughts and experiences. I often like to research an author either before I read their work or after – just to get a sense of who they are and what others say about them. Rupi was no exception. After watching many reviews and interviews of hers on YouTube, reading a few articles I finally sat down to read the book. There were various elements of her books that I liked for example her cover (I have a thing for bees), the structure of the book which is divided into four parts namely: The hurting, the loving, the breaking and the healing. Despite the lack of punctuation and simplicity in writing for which Kaur is often criticized, I enjoyed reading this book. The lack of punctuation did make it difficult to get the sense of the general flow of the poem but eventually the message got across. I am a big fan of poets breaking the laws of language so this is not som...

The journey to recover from my depression is still ongoing. I will say that it has gotten easier after I learned how to release my emotions into my work. Discovering poetry in primary school was an essential step into being who I am now, since at the time when I found myself in a very dark place, listening to and reading poetry was the most emotionally freely thing I could do. I’ve always been a reader and used reading to escape my reality often. But poetry: it wasn’t something I could get into but it helped me understand and eventually learn how to explain to myself and others what was happening when I couldn’t explain it simply. I’ve always done well with metaphors. And when I began writing poetry I wrote about simple things like the clouds and the bathroom tiles, about the way the sun shone through the leaves while I waited for my transport back home after school. Finding the way that these things in nature represented situations that were present in my life. As a curious mind...

The journey of the creative   It’s a curse To notice the way sunflowers sway with the moon Even though they don’t like him I see heaven’s smile in the sky sometimes And rename myself thankful For life is but a nightmare and a dream A nightmare that is my dream   The breeze blows through my hair and I become weightless like a dandelion I’m flying through the minds of all those who’ve hurt before Looking through to my past life as a Spanish doctor Loving and true Hips wider that her guitar she dances every night to calm her relatives   I’m flying into a future where skyscrapers are not high enough to reach my hopes Twinkling adventures in a city I’ve never been Secret love affairs I have yet to encounter but have already felt and cried for   Crying leads me into the ocean There I swim with the jellyfish Find peace among the reeds and reefs Smile and wake up alone in my bed A dream that was once a nightmare A nightmare tha...

Creativity from adversity The nationwide lock-down has had in it, some unexpected turns in my life, some that I've yet to share. My thoughts and some of the experiences I've had. I've spoken about the journey of the creative before and have even written a poem about it, which I hope to share with you at the end of this week. It is the very theme of this blog. The story of the poet, the singer and the painter. That we find beauty in our struggles. We create from our life experiences and whatever we witness in our day to day. My journey as a creative begun as a mere observer. I used to write about other people's experiences. My first novel was inspired by a song I heard once, a number of my poems are inspired by scenes from movies and celebrity interviews or simply from clouds I saw once on a cloudy day that presented themselves as a well curated metaphor that I just had to out down on paper. However my writing style has begun to change I no longer simply write from the c...

I've spent most of this week trying to protect my energy. I am well aware of the things that were taking place in the world around me and I feel the need to say that for me, hearing about such news and seeing disturbing scenes such as the ones that have been all over social media is a norm. I am part of the percentage of people who fall into every category of discrimination there could ever be. I have had this conversation and you have too and it's been shoved in your face all week. For that reason this week blog post will not add to the stress and anxiety but instead I'm hear to give you something to smile about and perhaps some tools to help you out. picture take from Pulse headlines Earlier this week a friend of mine shared a tweet about helping to protect your energy and ease some of the anxiety during this time. I will link it below. With that said, here's my cute story: The last 7 days have been spent in a weird state of euphoria. I was just really happy. I remem...

Bed Peace : Insomnia  The second poem titled Bed Peace in this collection. This one would take a less metaphorical stance it's predecessor  that spoke about racial supremacy in interracial relationships. I am actually speaking about getting  peace in bed. A peaceful night's sleep.  It's no big surprise that I wrote this poem on a night when I couldn't sleep but I think what bothered me so much is how I had no sensible reason to be up that night. I was not thinking about anything, I wasn't stressing, I had had a busy day and had gone to the gym at the end of the day. I had every reason to pass out as soon as my head hit the pillow yet here I was; eyes wide open waiting for something to hit.  I remember reading somewhere that peace was required for good sleep and it had me think: so if one has no peace in their heart could that be reason they would be tossing and turning and fighting to get some shut eye?  And perhaps it is true, that even if you do manage to...

A Sad Poem: Backstory I'd like to think that most writers and or creatives are often faced with the choice of producing something that people will like verses what you want to produce. Sometimes, for the lucky, these are one and the same thing but other times, the conversation you want to have is not the one that will resonate well with your current audience. However I've learnt that, someone out there, somewhere wants to have that conversation with you so speak about whatever the hell you want. A Sad Poem - simply titled- is my declaration of my stance as a creative. I remember a few conversations I've had with people where they ask me why I write such depressing poetry. The people around me claimed that this kind of literature was too sad for their liking and that it said a lot about the author. At the time I didn't want to be seen as a sad person, I did not write my poetry to make other sad either- I still don't. I started feeling terrible for producing suc...