The Journey 💨

The journey

Where I’m from, the tribes are many and the languages form a mosaic of unity-

The real wakanda 

Where I’m  from, family comes first at all costs – yes, even if it costs your health

Or peace of mind. 

Where I’m  from, family is all we have, family is what holds

Us together, and family is the retirement plan our grandparents rely on.

Where I’m  from, secrets are swept under the rug and shame eats away at family heirlooms

At gatherings we all laugh and are boisterous while underneath there is water eroding the metal

Where I’m from is completely different than where I am now and where I am going- and that’s ok. 

My Paradise

My yoni is like a castle set in paradise

Lush green valleys surround her

With mountains as far as they eye can see

Some curved edges to mark boundaries

But also the Scattered bones

of past lovers littering the ground.

They serve as a warning to any others who come for a conquest

My yoni is both delicate as a flower and holds the power to create or destroy.

Cascading Waterfalls are hidden in deep canopies that cleanse with each rolling tide.

My yoni is a paradise, a temple, a haven.

It has weathered many storms and seasons

Yet still stands, unshaken.

My yoni is a fortress, and a place of refuge for some

But I know now, not everyone deserves the keys to enter

My yoni is complex yet simple, and has many stories to tell for those who will listen and learn

My yoni is a beautiful willow tree that draws wisdom from its roots every moon cycle

I am my yoni and she is me.

We are one

And can never be separated again.

My yoni is like a castle set in paradise

And she is to be celebrated, cherished and adored.

Whole Again ❤❤

he touched me

And I thought I would be ruined forever

Then He touched me

And time stood still

He touched me

And I became whole again 

He touched me

And I was home 

He touched me

And my soul took flight

He touched me

And it was gentle

He  touched me

And the storm within me subsided

He  touched me

And the tears stopped flowing.

Sobbing like a babbling brook, tripping over every scar and wound

that had been left open

He  touched me

And I felt safe

He touched me

And I felt safe

He  touched me

And I felt safe...

You touched me

And reminded me what wholesome touch was.

You touched me and I saw

That I could be healed

You touched me and my truths

could no longer be concealed.

And even though you are long gone

My body remembers

My Black Is Not for Sale😠

A collaborative piece I wrote with another brilliant poet.

Dear white people,

My black is not for sale

So stop putting a price on it and tryna sell it to the highest bidder

Or package it nicely like some Thanksgiving dinner

My black is not for sale

So keep stealing our intellectual property and claiming like it’s yours- THIEF 

Stop acting like we weren’t the ones who taught you hygiene, mathematics, philosophy and architecture.

Stop acting like you did us a favour by selling us the American dream

Which was really all a lie so you could keep underpaying us while we built your economy, your schools, your nation... while our home was left unguarded and under attack

My black is not for sale

So tell your women to stop injecting their lips tits and ass so they can look like Sarah Baartman- they will never

My black is not for sale

So stop commodifying my culture to further your economy while leaving my people destitute

Dear white people

My black is not for sale

So stop spreading division through your colorist agenda 

My black is not for sale

So stop using token black folk to advertise your company when your company would NEVER let a black person be in a position of power

My black is not for sale

So stop looking at me like BBC and BBW are the only categories I can fit into

My black is not for sale

SO STOP COPYING ME 

My black is not for sale

So stop copying my flows and my verses, stop acting like you about that thug life when your privilege can afford you immunity from oppression

So stop incarcerating our men so you can get free labor

My black is not for sale

So stop using my people as quotas to fill to show how diverse and inclusive your company is

My black is not for sale

So stop killing us and harvesting our organs to sell in the black market

My black is not for sale

And it’s not something you can afford

See you got blood on your hands now

And no matter how much you keep denying that you are a beneficiary of the atrocities your ancestors committed, the truth will remain.

My black is not for sale

Dear Readers🙌

April 15th 2020

Welp...I haven't exactly found the groove to my blogging style but my method has always been in the form of a letter..mainly because I'm a hopelessly romantic Pisces that loves hand-written letters.😁

So..

Dear reader💕💕

Its been awhile since I blogged. I'm currently writting to you from a shelter. My beloved cousin Nzalu passed away last year and part of my grieving process is reading his blogs. It has re-lit a blazing fire towards my passion for writing.

He had a blog on wordpress (eww) but he was a BRILLANT and hilarious writer. I legit aspire to write like him. Im finna print off all his blogs and start highlighting his punch lines😆 ...I mean this guy was insanely witty and had a way of translating it into writing. He had a whole commentary about burkinis with word play. Brilliant I tell you. And apparently his sister would help him edit the blogs as well! I think writing is yet another thing that runs in our family. If you want to see for yourself what I mean, I will add the link below. 

In one of his posts he mentioned that he took a hiatus and would publish more...he never did. And that made me think holy shit I have at least 10 blogs I never posted,... What if I die and no one ever reads them..?😐

 

Then I saw this meme in my poetry group  that even if no one reads my blog, I should still write!  Same with my poetry, music and every other creative thing I do that goes unrecognized.

It begs the need to reflect as to whether we would create if we didn't have an audience or the prospect of one.

I will admit initially it was about views and hoping people read my work. But traffic on my page has slowed down significantly from the time I started. This is because I wasn't posting as often, but also because I was no longer writing to a particular audience ( predominantly Christian). But I see now how having a niche made a huge difference.

But even more importantly, I realized that my art/work is still important even if no one ever reads it.😁

Now...I have a couple more blogs sitting in my drafts that I've been embarrassed to post because lorttttt that manic brain is on a whole different plane of existence😩😬. But also the shame is part of a larger issue;the internal stigma about having bi-polar disorder that I strive to unpack.  I should explore that in another post sometime

But what's a blog anyway😩😩? An online diary? Lol ...I've matured in different ways since I started this blog, so this is out of my comfort zone not having some type of direction. Now its time to test whether that whole phrase "growth happens outside of your comfort zone" is real

I appreciate you bearing with me while I collect the courage to sift through past entries and give birth to a glimpse into my mind. 

Stay tuned for the next posts. They are some poems I have been working on 😁

Until next time my dearest readers.

Sincerely,

Lady Emm💅💖💜💫

Changes

Dear reader,

Have you ever been cruising through life, the sun was shining, bees🐞 were buzzing and the crisp air made you glad to be alive? And then SUDDENLY, a storm hit you out of nowhere and the nightmare began; your spiritual life got off track,  finances were looking sparse,💰 and even your friends and family couldn't console you. And you contemplated : wouldn't all of this be easier if I were no longer here? Wouldn't that solve all my problems? And just as you were about to jump off the cliff, the Lord threw you a life line at a time that seemed catastrophically late. And you reached for that rope, held on for dear life and allowed him to pull you up until you were on solid ground. And now here you are, in the midst of another storm and somehow, you've managed to forget  how God came through for you last time.  Some of us like to say "won't He do it?" But I would like us to reflect on these questions : 

Why do we think He won't come through for us this time? Why is this time different? Why is it harder to trust and believe this time around? 

He proved himself to us before and so many other times we didn't take note of. .. so why do we think this time will be different? I realize it's a different storm and it looks/feels scarier than the last one, but He promised us that He would never leave us nor forsake us. He won't start now just because this storm is unfamiliar territory to you. He will lead you and guide you through this storm and the next one.  He will either calm the storm or give you peace during the storm. Please try and remember this when you're going through. 

Deut 8:2
"Remember how the LORD your God led you through the wilderness for these forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character, and to find out whether or not you would obey his commands."

May the Love of God continually give you strength to stand on solid ground

Lovingly,

Sister Emm <3

Do Your Best and Let God Do the Rest

Do your best and let God do the rest

By:  Mbula Mutheu Enobong

Someone once told me that half the work is showing up. I didn’t realize how true that would be for me until I hit rock bottom.

I had just received the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, a mood disorder, and was going through all the emotions that come with such life altering news. Emotions like fear, anxiety, confusion and anger filled my mind and I felt like I couldn’t find answers to all my questions. Would I ever find true love despite the illness? Would I ever achieve my dreams?  Make my mark on the world? Could I be a contributing member of society? Being labelled with a mental illness was like confirming all the insecurities I ever had about myself.   I asked God why He was letting such an awful thing happen to me. After all, I had been a faithful Christian, doing my best to live holy. When I didn’t get an answer, I decided to turn my back on God and my church. I decided I would be able to find the joy and happiness I once had in a bottle of alcohol or on the dance floor at a nightclub. However, I could find no comfort there. Depression and sadness followed me everywhere I went until I didn’t know where to go to find relief for the pain, sadness and confusion that I felt. As I contemplated suicide, one thought constantly kept coming to me “I’m going to have to answer to God as to why I took my own life”. Despite that thought, I continued to fantasize about different methods and began to mentally write a suicide note to my family.

Throughout that grim time, I somehow managed to keep a steady job in the community, running a kindergarten program for the families.  Thankfully, doing work that I loved made it easier to get out of bed in the morning because I had something to look forward to; something to live for. I did my best by showing up for work and God did the rest.  Parents would write emails to my supervisor saying how much they appreciated my work. In all honesty it was the bare minimum, but it was the best I could do at the time. And yet, even though I had turned my back on God, He hadn’t turned His back on me. I felt as though God was saying to me “Even in your darkest hour, I am with you” He loved me at my darkest just like it says in Romans 5:8. He loved me and sent me encouragement because He knew what I needed to keep on fighting. Those words of encouragement (and other tools) helped me to come out of depression and suicidal thoughts.

I encourage you today dear reader. God sees your pain and your heart aches and He knows just what it will take to pull you through. He won’t leave your or forsake you, that’s His promise (Deuteronomy 31:6) He knows how to heal your broken heart and He knows how to save you from your self-destructive ways.

He wants to pour love and grace into you, but first you have to open the door of your heart and let Him in. He’s a gentleman and He won’t barge in uninvited.

I pray that if you are in a place of despair or hopelessness and don’t know where to turn, that you would start by trusting your life in God’s hands. I pray that you allow Him to heal and change your heart and that you find something worth fighting for, worth living for.  Remember to do your best and let God do the rest.