MIND + BODY + SOUL = LOVE

When you ask me to love you
You ask me to open up a flood gate of emotion
An ocean of remembrance of ill past deeds done unto me

When you ask me
You ask me to trust you and to believe that hurt will never again tear through my flesh with its razor-like talons seeking to devour my trembling soul

You say you come to make me whole
To heal,
and to edify my being

Unseeing
You ask me to do this blindly
To put it all behind me and you in the front

This is what I want
For me to love and for you to love me
but the fear of the unknown is all encompassing

When you ask me to love you
You ask me to ignore my intuition,
cancel my suspicion,
and disable my inhibitions

Listen
To what it is that you are truly asking of me

You ask me to love infinity
So, I in turn consult the trinity – they that give power to love

My MIND, my BODY, and my SOUL

Now my soul, she calls you mate and simply adores you
My body says “he’s so sexy and has potential, let’s pursue”
But my mind, she’s a sharp one and weary on taking chances on this unstable entity called love

But all of the above have to agree
In order for me To be free - to LOVE

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa

© 2007. All Rights Reserved.

THIS WAY

I wish that it didn’t have to end this way
But I wished for it to cease
I wish that I didn’t have to see that look upon his face
A mixture of heartbreak and defeat
Bittersweet
This moment is for me
I’m relieved that it is finally over
Although I have no joy

I love him – but “in love” I am not
So this journey had to stop
Our priceless time spent now wasted in the wind
Because neither one of us wanted to say goodbye
To work it out we tried, in hindsight it was not God’s will
If so, we’d be together still

The thrill of love came and went as if in a rush
I must – be faithful and be content that it was meant
I’ve lost a potential life mate but hopefully retained a friend
Again I wish that it didn’t have to end – this way

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2007. All Rights Reserved.

THE L WORD

Damn this Brutha got me gone
Like something I’ve never known
I’m stoned!
That’s right; I’m high just off the entrance of his image in my mind
Divine – this man is SO
I don’t know – can’t put it all to words
It’s absurd, because I know him – but I don’t
Fear of the unknown tells me to abandon this – but I won’t
Because this passion endures, it is immortal and intertwined with my soul
Imprisoned – I am, and it is my warden
Refusing to release me until my will to fight the feeling is broken

As our new beginning unfolds, I’ll know then and only then if his heart for me is true
No need to question my own intentions because I want to be his everything
even if he says “I want to be nothing with you”

I feel out of control and I struggle to maintain my composure
As the vision of our lovemaking plays out it my mind – over, and over, and over
It is my favorite film with him as the leading man and I as the best supporting actress
A classic
Our performance together is a force to be reckoned with
A seamless entity we become where I don’t know where he stops and I begin

Incredible is what he is to me
Irreplaceable to him is what I aspire to be

I am consumed with the four-letter L-word
It is alive within me, ablaze, complex, and robust But the question I ponder at this very moment is “What am I actually feeling for this man – is it Love or is it Lust?”

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2007. All Rights Reserved.

BRINK OF EXTINCTION

Brink of Extinction

The Hunt is on…
I mean can’t you tell?
With the fatherless households
dilapidated neighborhoods
glorified drug usage and addition to retail
Rampant joblessness, HIV swells
high dropout rate and abundantly filled jails
Systems set up for him to fail
To fall on his beautifully onyx face and to breathe in debris
conditioning him to be –
thoughtless
hopeless
godless
dope-full
ultimately turning his heart away from
everyone and everything
including you and me

The Hunt is on…
I mean can’t you see?
Law enforcement shoot to kill because of his pigment
Ones who look like self do the same and it’s straight ignorant
Man, I ask you
What happened to the days where street brawls were common
and a man could live to fight another day?

Majestic Prince of the Sahara sands – STAND!

Where is your love –
for your people?
Show us!
Your connection –
to your people?
Lead us!
Your passionate strength and birth right responsibility
to uplift your race
Positively
Phenomenally
By example, triumphantly leading the way
Where are you?
What happened ya’ll…
Has he gone and left us astray?
I mean have we come this far to have bred a race of cannibals?
Where he the young, the old, and the foolish carry guns to
Steal, kill, and destroy!
Sound familiar?
This trend is one of an evil nature
…but the devil is not at fault
The ebony male is under attack
– internally and externally –
and he and we
are suffering as a result

Oh yes ya’ll!…, ah yeh-yes ya’ll!

The Hunt is on…
I mean does anybody care?
About his welfare?
His visible despair?
That this species makes the Department of Corrections multi-billionaires?
That it is shareholders primary interest to keep him there?
That his life is likened to a baseball game – 3 strikes and you’re outta here?
Not much thought is given in the court system to if his home life was fair
If so, it’s inadmissible – who cares?
It’s quite possible Hip-Hop or null raised him and is at the root of his degradation
His mental devastation
He ranks lowest in primary education
He’s last chosen in orphanage to home placement
That his self-esteem has been mangled and scarred from behavior by this nation
That he’s guilty until proven innocent in a justice situation
That his race is only 12% of the nation
Are you aware of all this shit that he is facing!?
George Dubya enacted the “No Child Left Behind” act
Where is the “No Black Male Left Behind” act?
For his face in the higher educational system lacks
And I ask where is his ethical treatment organization?
PETA exists for the dogs, rats, and cats
You can ask Vick about that…
The government saved the black bear, the black rail bird, and the black-footed ferret
Where is the rescue organization for the man – Black?
For his denial to vote, obtain school loans or decent employment
after paying his debt with freedom denied
For his socially accepted police brutalization, and unjustified homicides
For his federal mandatory sentences for the first possession of Crack?
Not heroine, not murder, not rape, not pedophilia and that’s fact!
Are they lesser crimes?
Swim in that…
Now listen closely to hear the shareholders snickering
trying to hold their laughs back

The Hunt is on…
And in case you didn’t know
– the African male is the prey
Mentally Revolutionize
– You and I have to try –
Be he transformed by the renewing of his mind
I need for him to try
Because he is on the brink of extinction
and if he dies…
– She dies

Oh yes ya’ll!… ah yeh-yes… yes ya’ll!

Soak!

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2006. All Rights Reserved.

A Letter To My First ‘Un’Born Child

A Letter To My First ‘Un’Born Child
(Death Date: May 16, 1998)

I feel the need to explain to you the reason you’re not here
Mainly because at 23, I was immature, unstable and full of fear

It’s not that I didn’t love you, I know that now, as I shed a tear

It’s just that at the time, when you were alive
I allowed that love to be conquered by fear

Fear that I couldn’t support you, and that you and I would struggle
Fear of being a statistic; another single black mother
Fear that I had made a mistake, in the father that I had chosen
He was only 19 at the time, with no direction, and no focus
Fear that I would become a failure and all my dreams would be deferred
Fear that I would be a terrible mother for you… the last thing I wanted in this world

I wasn’t ready to be a mother, I wish that wasn’t the case
And I didn’t want to resent you, or throw that up in your face

Despite it all, I know now that you deserved to live
You also deserved more, than two young adults had to give

You deserved the chance to exist, for more than 7 weeks
To be loved, to be cherished, to breathe, to cry, and speak

If I could turn back the hands of time, of course I’d change that fate
Then I would get a chance to know you, hold you, and kiss your little face

You were God’s gift to me, because He knew what I didn’t at the time
That you were the love I needed, that you would mature me, this now I realize

I miss you my child, I forfeited our chance and what we could have had
But how can you miss what you never had some say, I don’t know
but I miss you really bad

I could never forget you, I’m haunted by the memory of that day
The appointment, the doctors, the room, and the sound of the machine
that took your life away

I’m ashamed of what I did to you…I’ll never forgive myself
I wish that I would have been stronger for you
and understood the value of life itself

This is what I thought you deserved to know, about your Mom and the choice she made
Although young, your Dad did want you, and never thought of you as an accident, nor a mistake

You are my first unborn child, my regret, my tears, my biggest fault
I’ll love and nurture your spirit forever, inside the womb of my heart


 

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2003. All Rights Reserved.

GIRL INTERRUPTED circa 1983

On the ER bed she lays
Vision of a harsh life appears and fades

Pretty and she knows it
Body ahead of her age

Grown men calling her name
Childhood passed up, sex at an early age

Moms is worried, ain’t seen her in a week
Try’s to gain control, but got a job to keep

No more school, drops out in the eighth
Listens to no one… sex for money points the way

Mom’s is thru, done all she can do
puts her out at 15, the streets she turns to

Now, it’s dope to cope
A drink to think
Fuck her or him to eat
Rob those who trust easily to keep
 herself high
so she don’t cry
Because the streets they have no love

Pimp seeks her out, to fatten his roll
Wines her and dines her, then takes control
Bad advice from victims in the life
Now she pro hoe strolls…

Tracks in her arms, multiply to deal with the real

Barely 80 lbs. now, drug life takes its toll
Pimp beats her ass, this time breaks her nose

Encourages her to make more dough for sex with no hat
Bumps on her cat, Herpes Simplex 2, no cure for that

High as a kite, late Friday night
Little too much this time…something don’t feel right

On the ER bed she lays
Vision of a harsh life appears and fades

Doctors and nurses hurry, doing all they can do 
ECG machine shows flat line…
She’s gone and her baby too

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2003. All Rights Reserved.