tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124878412024-03-13T19:59:57.721-07:00Worth WateringLife.
Worth Living.
Worth Watering.ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.comBlogger238125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-65491316300850654092010-04-23T15:19:00.001-07:002010-04-23T15:19:31.542-07:00UpdateOkay, so I am now moving towards lanching the recording of the poetry album, but I am looking for a good bass player. As soon as I find one, I will be well on my way. Wish me luck. You can also connect with me on Facebook.ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-26999437968759604602009-12-09T10:32:00.001-08:002009-12-09T10:51:36.488-08:00Hung
Do you know what it is like to be
Hung? (Sung)
Do you know what it is like to be
Hung? (Sung)
No I’m not talking about that popular definition of
Hung. (Sung)
Like a bird in the air suspended in mid flight
Hung(Sung)
A multicolored rainbow of feathers in flight
Hung(Sung)
Seven stars, in alignment
Hung(Sung)
The rising of the sea to meet the moon
Hung(Sung)
The ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-3578192098583739652009-12-05T03:11:00.000-08:002009-12-05T03:11:08.584-08:00Miss Mary's BluesMiss Mary Mack
Mack, Mack
All dressed in Black
Black Black
With Silver Buttons
Butttons, Buttons
All down her Back
Back, Back
She asked her mother
Mother, Mother
For fifteen Cents
Cents, cents
to see the Elephants
Eleplants, Elephants
Jump the Fence
Fence Fence
Miss Mary Mack
Mack Mack
All dressed in Black
Black, Black
She's on her way
Way Way
to get her man
Back Back Back
She went to town
ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-14683710622167555932009-12-01T23:07:00.000-08:002009-12-01T23:07:19.788-08:00bitter rinds
wrath
is the dried and fully fermented fatty seed
of the cacao tree
from which chocolate is made
typically with a machete
pulp and cocoa seeds
are removed
and the rind is discarded
You must always handle wrath carefully,
In order to separate the curse from the crème
But the fool
walks in the bitters
ego sticking to his feet
like chocolate
with no sugar to cull
and ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-60790713029435756242009-11-30T19:04:00.000-08:002009-11-30T19:50:48.926-08:00Welcome to the New Worth Watering BlogNow that I'm taking this new journey, please register as a follower so I can update you on all things new....and speaking of new...a new poem..The lineNever outdone.Never out maneuvered.Flies even when falling.Has learned more from mistakesThan success.And success is no accident.Looking into a soul of a native sonThat has spanned many lifetimesBut always seems to know its way homeLandscapes of ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-55609851540039739902009-09-11T16:50:00.000-07:002009-11-30T19:51:05.291-08:00the roseIn the sand, the storms, the snowIt grows;Where concrete meets the lean lineOf green, a seed waiting, listening for a whispered word: why not here?It grows;When history meets the darkened veil of a timeWhen ships of precious cargothat weren’t expected to comesailed in chained and bound, yet not brokenIt grows;A fluttering prayerA beating wishA railing armThe hands of grandma still smoothIn all ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-86190036936042198532009-06-06T11:08:00.000-07:002009-06-06T11:11:04.615-07:00Places without waterSometimes my house is river without the musicThe music has run out of windows and doorsLeft deep carvings in rocks an quarriesAnd only wet humectants lieEvaporating sheaths of streamVicariously suspended in the silenceTrapped beneath a hard surface of hopeWhispering for rain ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-66796207104797499452009-06-06T11:03:00.000-07:002009-06-06T11:05:32.902-07:00Another Way to Say Goodbye(song)Hello thereIs anybody there?I’m speaking to you from my heartbut the sound is caught mid airI’m tired ofGiving what I gotand loving you for what you’re notThat ain’t cool…ain’t coolI keep hopingin your bestWhen my hope’s worth so much lessThan my attentionBut I’ll play the foolWho will come and make it rightIf I don’t stand and fight tonightThis fightWith you for me, for me?And I don’t wantms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-2980986589005557632009-06-06T11:01:00.000-07:002009-06-06T11:03:22.297-07:00I know it was the bloodI know it was the blood(In memory of the lives lostTo the senseless thing that we know asMan’s inhumanity to man, dedicated to City of Oakland)Oh the inhumanity of it---I woke up this morningWith my mind(Stayed on jesus)Woke up this morning with my mind(stayed on Jesus)HallejulahThis poemRacing through my left ventricleAnd out of my rightIt lines up at my leg(ready)And races towards my stomach(ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-18931385656277170252009-01-02T15:39:00.000-08:002014-01-29T20:04:41.649-08:00don't know what to do with this
deep wells
of deep rivers
with muddy bottoms
and cotton
a
sooty past
running through
creekbeds and river sides
into concrete oasis
yet the sand stings feet
the blast of obliterated sound
the slapping of cheeks
the pounding of feet
the gnashing of teeth
the
and then,
a pause
uncrdeciiously
the page turns
and I see color
ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-52659797323636596942009-01-02T15:09:00.000-08:002009-01-02T15:56:42.920-08:00Rest in the key of "Promises" (dedicated to Barack Obama)silenceslips insidethe tubaquiet casts a brassy glowupon the shadowy saxophoneamendedtwins,the french horn and clarinetaccompanied bythe hollow throatof acoustic breathand the night belts out what magic is left behind, and returns the breathto its proper restthe prayer without words ofempty eyesfull of the momentCan't you hear it?the baited still ofa willing willfog falling freshlyas white ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-74796179847869703482008-11-15T21:34:00.000-08:002008-11-15T21:40:03.805-08:00maybe?hummmaybe you aremymarcusthwarted by an int eruption called "black history"fussing at me to get home on timedelighted by witty banterfrustrated by my stubborn waysthat refuse to m......m.....move.maybe that's why I am so scared of you--inviting me into intellectual adventureswithout the fussworking to build a life beyond the ruin of thiswhispering under your breathwhat a dang fool I ampraying ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-31464324857074647672008-11-15T21:21:00.000-08:002008-11-15T21:42:48.646-08:00Kryptonitehe is the kind that will make pretty babiesand ugly tearsa hulking super manwho still longs for his mama's breastsafter a day of misadventures in manhoodhis smile crawls inside spaces that it shouldn'tscurrying inside the empty spacesbetween thoughts and dreamslate at nightwhen I don't want to be botheredhe isunrepentantly popularevenin the most unflattering lightlike an undone cookiesmelling ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-14150353358222941272008-11-15T21:20:00.000-08:002008-11-15T21:21:00.677-08:00Chicago, 2008Like a sweet fragranceIt rises;Scorched streets yield transformed treesOasis of human hopeGrown in a desertBees swoon to the flower ofits harvest heightThe implausible gardenBroke the hard earthdrank dark daysAnd came up spring--Deliverance dances in the streetsBurning again with the hope we thought had failed usAfter being auctioned off at the very steps of the great columnsOf hope itselfWe can-ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-33246331713173616932008-11-10T13:51:00.000-08:002008-11-10T14:18:54.094-08:00The Communion of Saints"This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. "This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those whoms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-14418662122192733462008-10-05T15:54:00.000-07:002008-10-05T16:43:48.400-07:00to do you justice (In memory of Officer Brad Moody)I tried to write wordsthat could do you justicebut they have failed memy arsenal is emptythe syllablesthe punctuationthe vocabulary listsall frozen in perpetuitySimple characters won't do.I tried to write you words,words that could explaincould hug, and healbut with lacklusterthey've been arraignedtriedand acquitted.Simple characters won't do.all the dazzling metaphorsfalling flakes of new ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-53568801750215106822008-09-14T23:27:00.000-07:002008-09-14T23:28:42.936-07:00shoesTied to the leftAns strappyTwo tonedAnd slim bonedMakes the brothers long for homeMakes them shout for joythese tiny delecaciesmassage the earth in circled“c’s”Step front step backSide to sideThey whisper warriorIn the click clackOf the swayed backGo , sister, goSee sister runSee sister commandLook out, here they comeWayward ribbonsA perfect witnessAsk the questionWho are you?And the story betterms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-57194199357082588382008-09-14T23:03:00.001-07:002008-09-14T23:03:41.744-07:00How’s My Driving?(Written in January 2008) How are you driving into your new year?Have you given yourself license to do all the things that you saidYou would not, could not do?Have you made resolutions anewOr are you still scratching waiting on a clue?How are you driving into your new year?Do you imagine yourself rolling in that big bodied Benz that wanted so badlyThat you woke up with a four ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-71863113091468609342008-09-14T23:01:00.001-07:002008-09-14T23:01:55.245-07:00Is it Well (With My Soul)Are you alright, baby? Your soul looks sick.Is it well?Is it well?Is it well?Well is it?This is the story of how to get free.Not got free, but bought freeAt retail priceThis is a story of stumbling throughTransformation with deliverance on your shoulder, sin on your back, and grace at your sideThis is a story about having to walkWith humility because pride won’t letchu rideIs it, well?This is thems mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-28540806141886910432008-09-14T22:43:00.000-07:002008-09-14T22:46:28.402-07:00if all you have is love....bend gracefullyat the kneea bowed beautygiving to everyone but herselfhow does she liveon lovein a cavernous glass housewhere love is a windowyet the earth is soshady?ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-80545650912376020562008-09-14T22:26:00.001-07:002008-09-14T22:42:33.370-07:00in memoryWas watching I-Witness 911, and remembering. I didn't realize how much of my spiritual journey into adulthood was impacted by one act of destruction. I looked over my life and realized how much of where I am now began that day. I can taste the remnant of the memory in my mouth, even now.If there was no September 11th, I would have never fallen in love, never reaffirmed my faith, never been calledms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-78405832062159433282008-06-01T00:18:00.000-07:002014-04-10T16:15:45.019-07:00RestorationIn memory of the story of David,a song of mourning, and rejoicingSung/Spoken:The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:He leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul:::::::::::::::::::: Quiet::::::::::::::::::::::::, then'This is my body, which is broken for you. Do this, in remembrance of me":::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-22939157885416539902008-06-01T00:04:00.000-07:002008-06-01T00:18:10.881-07:00Dressed to ImpressThat was you, right?sauntering up to meWith a pseudo concerned look in your eyesLooking for water in the valley of the dried prideTelling me, "Now I know you’ll never be a superstarBut it would suit you well to raise the bar." "Come," you say, "I must tell you thisI just don’t believe that your wardrobe preference fitsMy preferred style of appropriateness.""Or maybe," you said, "If you just did ms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-88674685875314689952008-03-21T21:01:00.000-07:002008-03-21T21:16:15.299-07:00audacity indeedi.in the shadow of an unborn hopeis possibilityblack and loomingrunning from the pastpast, past, pastbut is it really?past?ii.behind the pulpitand the pewssit men of Goddifferent huesdifferent viewsdifferent shoesbut one faithand one baptism'membering how Jesus wasn't a brothertil he'd riseniii.the audacity of a hopethat lastsbeyond the last porch lightin a world that is contentwith darknessms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12487841.post-19171253401984235302008-02-06T17:19:00.001-08:002008-02-06T19:54:01.169-08:00CongratulationsHey baby,congratulationsI heard about your new lifeshiny, brand new and tightthe life you breathed to dreambut didn't mean toyou inhaled only to calm your raging lungsred with screamsof too little air and spacebut look atchanow you walkin' like you own the placeAnd maybe you're scared that a tinge of hate may besitting on my shoulder?Well, baby, I'm happy for you.not because what went down wasn'tms mimi the mocha soulchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04301316700724316180noreply@blogger.com0