All Things Poetic

Seven years ago today I married my sweet blue eyed beau at The Graceland Chapel in Las Vegas. It was just the two of us disgustingly in love not knowing what the future would bring us. We held each others hands, took a leap of love and never looked back. And seven years, two raspberries later I am still classically in love. Happy Anniversary Baby! Love you higher than the sky.

Mango Tree

...by the river underneath the mango tree I wait with bated breath to rediscover the love left behind at Melrose Place. the stone must be broken to reveal the beauty which lies inside and always lived. don't run ahead just wait for me to take your  hand in mine from before across the Potomac, winding along the trail that leads to anew...

So You Think You Bad?

Well well well. What you up to now?

Oh I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your flow, your game, your hide and go cheat? Naw baby don't mind me. Please proceed to kick that, hit that ball out the park and into my lap so I can wake the fuck up and see your misrepresentation of a lover gone flat.

I don't trust you as far as I can throw you and Lord knows I can't throw.

Shit, I'm not gonna lie. You was crafty and for a minute I regurgitated every word,every trick, swindle and rouse I allowed you to force feed down my heart which was stuck to you and what I thought was good love.

But you're addicted to that one, two, maybe five deadly sins 1, 2 steppin' round the truth, lies and let's go to the video tape.

Oh yes. It's documented how you said this, then did that. Expressin' love and how you got my back when really you had her up against the wall actin' like you was all that.

See, it was your world I lived in. I believed I belonged. Inhabitating your planet, taking on your Dogma, learning your style as law.

Now I look like a fool to stay. Losing sleep sleeping with the enemy who imitates the life of someone else by day performing drity pretty things at night.

Trust. These are lessons learned and never repeated. Cuz like Erykah, "I'm cleva..." and I'll show you how I roll.

Solomente. Uno. Me subtracted from you, times two plus somebody else's lover cuz that how you do it.

Don't tell me you salty cuz I found me the right stuff?! Let us not forget you were the one face to porcelain not one month after you was mackin' with what's-her-face at the club.

Yeah I know about that too. But no need to worry Boo, I'm all set.

I've checked out of your hotel for good. No refund please, keep the check.

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright June 2005

Tangled and Twisted

What is love really?
I'll tell you what love is he said, and from there she was taken.
From the floor to the ceiling, falling up and sliding in his being like it was hers.
This gentle giant with moves like a cat owning enough lives to bring her to her knees.
Ten past two clocks strike but time is of no consequence for this thing called her best kept secret.
Rough and tumble the floor is quaking from his spell like he slipped sex into her coffee.
And more than high this goes. Past the fairytale and spun into the sheets. An abyss of lovemaking.
Yes! She is taken. Yes! She is thrown and with his slight of hand she can't even remember what came before this moment.
How did he get here? With eyes closed, mouth open and hungry for his food. A meal consisting of talks of life beyond two. A full course of the stuff that makes your insides do cartwheels.
Too much, too little, just enough. What is this hold? Doth I protest too much? Doth I speak of lips wet that speak a language only they can decifer.
With the familiar upside-down the moon never looked so beautiful. In the company of nature humming on the path of fate that twists and turns and winds around their hands intertwined as if that was their place. And her place is filled. Spilling over with the knowledge that he is real.
An open book for her to dive into.
Pages and pages of chapters of goodness with a surprise ending that will shake all those around them.
What is love?
It will be this. This thing here. This exact moment of connection.
It will grow, it will deepen, it will explore every boundary and surpass it ten times over because he said so.
Yes. She is taken.
He has scooped her up and laid her down all tangled and twisted in this soon to be love.

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright August 2004

Silence

So sad that I am still afraid to be myself.
And who am I?
Who is this inside my skin?
Where do these thoughts come from?
Where do they live?
How do I release myself from myself?
How do I let go?
Am I able to let go of the criticism, the pain, the injustice, the secrets?
Am I ready to live in truth?
The soul seems so willing, but the body and mind is so weak.
I ramble, I stop. I pretend to be someone I am not.
Everyday attempt, attempt, attempt. Attempt to be her.
The one.
The one I'm supposed to be.
Destiny. Fate. Truth. I have doubts.
Secrets and lies they continue to plague me. So I push them further.
Back, back. Back behind the facade. The front. The fake.
I want out.
I want out of this nightmare. This half-world.
Is it me? Is it my fault?
Am I keeping her from breaking free? Rising to the surface?
To dream. To love. Do I believe that?
Does she believe that?
Am I worthy of more? Worth.
Again, I pause, I stop.
And still there is no answer.
Silence.

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright May 2000

**my first poem**

3am

If it pleases you, may I hold your hand until my palms sweat?

Would it be alright if I curl up next to you in the middle of the night?

Is it okay to dart my eyes when you look at me cuz your smile makes me blush?

There's no sense in faking it. Your presence gives me a rush.

Will you come away with me my beautiful one-my heart overgrown?

Would you mind making love to me, our hearts pounding, sweat drops dripping and landing on my belly that will someday expand from our love?

Am I allowed to think of you always and forget why I came down to the kitchen?

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright January 2005

No Such Obligation

Tell me again how strong I am.
The chameleon doing what it does best. Adaptation at your command.
Milk spilling and spoiling on the floor so what's the use in crying?
It's over, its done. All there's left to do is press send.
Be careful what you wish for cuz you might end up on Crystal Rock with the girl, the burdens, the cat and a one way ticket to life inside the airport. Always leaving with no destination.
Love...let me count the ways I can throw myself against a wall to remember how to leave when they've handed me my hat. And my hat is most certainly in my hand.
But then reflection is deflected and rejection is the objection that I don't want to rule guilty for. And I am guilty.
Guilty of 2000 thread count the bed was made with.
It's over. It's done.
But what price do we pay? Who's head is it on? Because I feel as though I can't afford the reward to get it back.
Who is responsible? Who will stand up in front of the class and recite the declaration?
Tell me again how strong I am. Tell me again how everything happens for a reason and I'll take off this mask and accept the obligation.

Tiffani Frost Powell
Copyright June 2004

The Box

So small this box. So deep the wound goes. Buried I am inside my skin, my muscles, my bones, my organs, my flesh.

So small this box. Remove it. Remove this abscess, this growth that holds me back from myself.

So small this box. This pocket of darkness that clouds my thinking shaming me inside.

So small this box. Grace me with the pleasure of sweetness. The sweetness that encompasses all that is good and innocent.

So small this box. My mind longs for a new way of thinking begging to swallow, see, feel the constraints and let go.

So small this box. Can I be led to the path? The path of righteousness, beauty and love?

So small this box. Cleanse me, heal me, leaving nothing but the one I am! Woundless and healthy.

So small this box. Will I ever trust myself to step outside naked and ready to live not with fear but with revelry? And the box...will be no more.

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright August 2001

The Girl From Parkvale Road

The light in the hallway flickers only enough to see the shame held down beneath. Childhood smothered stifled stolen sold away slipped from trickled down cheeks covered and stained. Images loop on repeat where honesty doesn't exist. Faucets drip, air dead, time thickens like cement a tornado of shame permission not granted space invaded- worth deleted. Reality is not real when riding bikes isn't play. Trips downtown, dolls and ice cream sundaes are only diversions to divert attention to deconstruct memories that should be healthy. 

more to come...
Tiffani Powell
Copyright 2011

balloon in flight

black magic won't help in this instance for the strength lies within - the search continues for quiets that are more than comfortable but reality at ease - needing a boost of approval that it's okay to be dazed with love for self and the beauties that lived inside - my balloon needs flight - my parachutte needs the ripcord rip away tear away the doubt pull pull pull scratch out the poison bitten by the apple of desire - grant my forgiveness as the liquid runs from my veins my pores my head aches to be released from the madness - my intention is good my soul is reaching back into myself into my babes into my being that craves to be worthy....

A song for Lolo

Lolo Lola Logan I love you

Lolo Lola Logan yes I do

Pretty little girl dressed in pink

Apple of my eye and you don't stink

All Mine

"All Mine"

your smile

your nose

your toes

your ears

your bellybutton

your lips

your smell

your touch

your beauty

your innocene

your laughter

your little ways

your wobbly walk

your baby talk

your mine

your mine

you're all mine to love

Tiffani C. Powell

Copyright 2007

Dysfunctional out of necessity

some words that i had to get out ...

Dysfunctional out of necessity

there is nothing in the book worth writing home about to change stripes when it's easier to choke on them pray for them spit blank words or a one liner with no greeting or signature. bandwidth not well spent such a bother to waste two weeks to dance around a response forced to play the game or move to alaska. woe is me hotline is a joke it's twisted how easy it is to get along without feeling without purpose otherwise to purposely wake up put one foot in front of the other and blame everyone else self service only bitterness not kindness or culpability to pass onto the next offsrping but not this one. there are more lights on upstairs to know better than to engage in parental misguidance ........

more to come. this is just a start

Tiffani C. Powell

little lovely

Little Lovely

little feet dance for smiles

gummy bear cheer lashes lushes

baby paws hold dreams

sweetness behind eyes of brown

tiny creature filled with love

my creation

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright June 2007

Saturday's aroma

Saturday's Aroma

shape your dreams and bring it back to saturday's aroma of waffles and cream our very own lovers lane and vanilla bean.

peep little man blow bubbles, steal smiles and coos to set us free from 2004 took only seven days to fall head under feet along the esplanade of rolling rapids that carried my 10-speed to you.

that torrid affair filled notebooks of words like tangled and twisted and come what may to take your hand to fabricate conundrums no choices but to escape to the Bowry my dowry was not much cuz my love is free.

so meet me at the treehouse by the rivers edge to dwell in happiness an agreement made with a handshake to take off into a space that knows no boundaries.

fresh eyes collect new life movies curiosity peaked now belly is full with functional love to cozy up to and be lazy with.

us now three, the best thing i ever did counts sheep so sweet - your eyes, my nose bonded forever him you me.

those rings fit cinderella style off to golden gates your arts and crafts taught that if you're patient and wait cupids reward is ten times your deposit.

and my account is protected by your guaruntee, your vows and promises came true my dysfunction set free.

no time wasted to create this family tree you envelope me priority to feel special 365 days, weeks, hours you work to ensure his history won't require therapy cuz pre-fab is in and there's no sin against mixing it up - a new flavor for baby boy to savor being different sometimes means taking a chance or a leap.

with your love outstretched you led me to green pastures soul restored and thirsty for more of our story's happy ending began the day you knealt down and rubbed my feet....your world is a beautiful adventure, my puzzle is complete.

Tiffani C. Powell
Copyright May 2007

lessons learned

Generic Prescription

Self-medication will only get you so far my dear, better get you some right in the head quick before fate passes you by.
Won’t do you no good communing with the Devil marooned on the island of desperate depressions, it never happens to me, my childhood was lacking this and that… heard enough to know that you whacked! Yes, it takes a village to raise a child but sometimes the offer ‘aint so good.
Makeshift living is not worth settling for-topsy-turvy misusing your own life.
Get over yourself cuz you’re one in a million Americans who suffer from anxiety, dry mouth, my daddy didn’t love me and I have issues with rejection.
Time is ticking, sinking fast 10,000 leagues under the weight of the world on your shoulders and brain and even though you grew up inside a circus, three ring and all, there comes a time when you must take on the day.
Please be advised; that is if you can find time within your busy schedule to relax, relate and release past, pent up emotions and delusions of grandeurs, you’ll find there is a whole world out there.
Put the wheels in motion for the stage of the chrysalis. Actually do away with those coping mechanisms and do something. Strip clean and become at peace with this genetic make-up, freak-show so-called life is in your name; sold bought and paid for.
Piecing together this girl’s life comforted by the sound of the cork popping, pills spilling a drunken stupor of promiscuity has gotten old.
Real old.
So ditch the first idea and go with Plan B. Be trigger happy in group therapy. Direct your inner-child to the reference section and fasten your seatbelt for the cleansing ride of your life.
Try something new: Drown yourself in functionality, semi-normalcy and open up the blinds.
The sun is shinning in for a change and today’s a good day to be alive.

Tiffani C. Frost
Copyright 2005

And So It Is

love abound floating on dreams and penny drop wishes made long ago.  here in this place having held on tight to hopes and mistakes and a grandmothers prayer.  a freed bird from little girl to woman she has arrived.  yes, hair down, smile on, life growing and moving down paths made just for her.   the curtains are open, eyes are wide and the unknown is not important.  evolution has just begun.  a miracle is at work proving that God works in mysterious ways for the girl from parkvale road.  cowboys and angels circle this light abundant with riches, what's to come and uncertain beauty.  small joys arrive when least expected to those who are virtuous and forgiving of ones self.  blessings are all around up and down...beyond comfortable quiets.   the time of her life is now...in the hands of this tiny miracle called her baby.

Uneducated Assumption

Uneducated Assumption **You'll find this poem on my CD On Her Own

I am so over labels.  I am so over people defining me, confining me, box me in, seal me up, packaged addressed and ready to bought by the consumer.

What is it with people trying to tell me who I am?  Does it make you feel better or less threatened to know that you’ve lumped me into a category?

Check this box if you’re Black, White, gay, straight, American, Christian, terrorist, Buddhist, ghetto, racist, feminist, Arab, left or right wing, ugly, stupid, rich or poor, homeless or heartless.

And beware because the side effects include: nausea, diarrhea, mood disorder, conformity, genocide, idealism, abnormality and a slew of other adjectives that rape us of our individuality.

And isn’t that what its’ about?  It meaning life.  It meaning you and me?

Be you!  Be free!  Make love not war, peace not hate now wouldn’t that be great especially if you were selling it on a T-shirt?

But life is too short to categorized.

So what if I once was engaged to Jim then fell in love with Sue and three years later turned around and decided to do Enrique.

Am I gay or straight?  Am I dammed or am I saved?

Okay what, I get it.  You need definition.   It’s you who are insecure.  And maybe just maybe, if you stamp a label on me, nutritional value included, you’ll have a better grasp at you.

Shit I don’t know you.  All I know is me.

I like cats, my favorite color is blue, when I was five I loved going down the slide, I suck at Math and occasionally I’ll go out for Chinese.

But that don’t make me a lion trainer, free falling blue faced Chinamen with hopes of an MBA from MIT now does it?

So why you pressed to mold me with the rest?

Yes I write.  Yes I dance.  Yes, believe it or not I am 100% Black so don’t ask if I got Indian in me cuz you think I got good hair.

Yes I was in love with a woman and yesterday my boyfriend made me breakfast in bed and I still suck at Math but I’m smart enough to know that your numbers don’t add up.

There is no expiration date on this one folks.

So generalize me in the simplest of terms.

My name. 

That is the only label you need stick me with.  And it’s Tiffani.

The rest you’ll learn once you remove those blinders and take an educated guess.

Tiffani C. Frost

Copyright 2004

Sweet Valley

the land of golden dreams is right here at the base of these mountains, tucked away in the rivers three, aside rolling hills of green goodness filled with country values and honest living.  yes go west and discover a new life where words come easy from pen to paper, root to tree, orchards and orchards to replenish all that resides. traipsed across country to find a place to call home away from home, hospitality flowing, history deep with folks who truly love the land that was given to them.  downtown calls your name, a familiar smile, a gentle greeting, a break from the day at the coffee shop where only the old time regulars know it's secrets.  a knitters haven to the left, a fox theater to your right, red woods, mt whitney's and homers nose all make this town what it is.   a collected soul of souls.  a place of enchantment from north to south, up and around the grapevine and back to the start again.   so pack your bags for a ride, walk, hike or trek to the best place the valley has to offer.  golden dreams start here...

Tiffani C. Powell

Copyright 2006

The Hibernation Period

The Hibernation Peroid

Copyright 2005

only time will tell what exactly this spell is, for the girl from parkvale road. go west young man. knapsack in tow packed tightly with memories from wince she came about.
certificate stamped gypsy, nothing delicate only emancipation proclaims itself a victory.
I-40 itinerary ready for take off no more harboring criminals in her head for she has gained possession of all her faculties traipsing across country.
blue eyed beau to the left, he ever the enchanter, enchanting the enchantress to encompass his incantations of unhurried divine.
go on and fly then.
and what say you for a pleasant tempeture for maximum pleasure? no dragging her down...up up up the Mesa's red as dawn nothing but country all around.
the air is sweet with travels, grandviews, soulmate splenders and what's to come.
she is a thinker, a do-er, a follow-througher, contrary to popular belief. for the time is now to put on that extra fat. that layer that will keep her warm through the winter. cheeks are filled, nuts are buried, food is stashed away, tucked inside that cozy place.
the bears have followed the required task for deep sleep. Sugar plum fairies and dreams of springtime are on the mind.
so...this gypsy will snuggle up and do as the bears do. ready herself for the next coming of the season.