Excerpt for Affirmations and Other Poems by Cherrie P Lynn, available in its entirety at Smashwords





Affirmations: and Other Poems


by

Cherrie P Lynn

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Cherrie P Lynn


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Table of Contents


Preface


sisters in Love


I Confess


Whoever


All of the Above


Longing


Honeymoon


together


Baby Shoes


Sisters in Church on Sunday Morning


Motherlove (for Elizabeth)


A Gathering in the Field


Struttin’


affirmations


Affirmations


One Woman’s Legacy


Who Am I?


Momma, is…


herstory


Harlem Renaissance Time



Poem (for Zora Neale Hurston)


Princess Tam Tam


JO (Woman-Child)


Tell Me About This Woman


To the Black Man


travelin’ shoes


When I Paint my Dream Caribbean


I Want


times in which we live


The Times


Wanderer


Little Girls Should Always Love

their Mommas…


Dellarae



Preface


As women, we rarely get the opportunity to slow down; to stop and focus in on our own needs and wants. Most of us spend our time doing for others for most of our lives. Not that we mind. But often, along with this selfless lifestyle, comes the difficulty of retaining our personal identities, of holding on to who we are or are destined to be. God says in his Word that He formed us in our mothers’ wombs (Isaiah 44:2), and that He foreknew and predestined our existence (Romans 8:29-30). Now, it is merely our responsibility to seek out this destiny and fulfill it.


Though different in scope, most women want the same things in life. We want to be loved right, we want our needs met, our desires fulfilled, and we want to be told the truth. It’s really very simple; we want to be loved and respected for who we are. However, this becomes an impossible task if we ourselves are unsure of our own true identities.


This book of poems encompasses the experiences we face on our journeys to our destinies. We will encounter opposition along the way—doubt, fear, and discouragement—many times from those we love and from those who love us. At times, we will want to throw up our hands, to give up completely. The simple task of living day to day might almost destroy us. Well-meaning advisors will cause us to get off course. Others will try to crush our dreams. When this happens, we must remember an important fact on our way to greatness. No matter how well meaning the advice, if the advice givers are unable to catch the vision God has placed in you, they simply cannot see you accomplishing the goal.


I hope that this little book of affirmations and experiences will enable you, the reader, to live outside of society’s box, and to gain the knowledge needed to fulfill the destiny that is before you. May the wisdom of God the Father, through His Son, Jesus Christ, guide your journey to your true identity.


Cherrie P Lynn







sisters in Love



I Confess

I confess…

I want a man who’ll love me

so much that

he’ll love me for what I am and

what I’m not won’t interest him.


When I’m dripping wet with sweat,

he’ll think it quite appropriate.

He won’t try to change me—too much,

won’t think me not enough of this

or too much of that, and

I’ll extend the same courtesy.


When he gets angry with me

the fact that he’s so in love with me

will make him angrier still, but

he won’t be able to help it,

he’ll love me, even if it’s against his will

(but I’m sure it won’t be).

He’ll steal the covers just to coax me

to his side of the bed and sometimes,

I’ll be the only cover he needs.


He’ll awaken me in the morning

with a nibble of my ear, or a

tickle on my neck, or some such

drippy lovey dovey nonsensical

show of his heart, which will be

fine with me. And then he’ll show

a real interest in my interests and those things

that make me tick—my artistry, he’ll rave

about my creativity. He’ll even brag about

me to his friends and family…probably

to strangers too,


you see…

he’ll love the way that I walk, admire the way that I

talk, melt at the way that I smile, and whatever

I happen to do at the time will capture him, is

sure to mesmerize. He’ll know when I need time to

myself and when I need him to be all over me, he’ll

tell me how good I feel next to him and how soft

I am to touch. His knees will weaken whenever



he thinks of me, and I’m sure I’ll return the courtesy

when he calls me on the phone in a rush

just to hear my voice,

and we’ll spend the rest of our lives growing old

with each other’s idiosyncrasies. He’ll be able

say ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ with ease, because

he’ll mean it, and so will I when I reciprocate.


And on those times when he gets on my one nerve

and I on his, I may want to strangle him temporarily, and

he, me, but that will be just fine, no really

because we’ll love each other and I’ll do things for him,

he’ll do things for me and we’ll make our own

traditions for all our anniversaries, and I’ll confess my

deepest secrets and we’ll pool our dreams and tie them

together as we combine our destinies forever…

and that will be just fine.



Whoever


Is there to be

NO RELIEF?

Am I to

EXPLODE—

for lack of his

TOUCH?


WHOEVER HE IS?


WHOMEVER HE MAY BE?


(Where IS HE?)



All of the Above


Isn’t it grand

just to hold his hand?


Isn’t it bliss

to receive his kiss?


Almost too much

just to feel his touch?


Isn’t it a charm

to be in his arms?


Passionate fire

to be his desire?


All of the above

when you’re truly in love?



Longing


Enduring the inevitable loss of your

presence. In your absence,

the inability to touch. The linking

of our souls, hearts in the distance of space,

so empty…needing

your embrace unable to feel,

touch, hold

you

holding me.



Honeymoon


We spent our honeymoon in

South America. “Brazil is a beautiful

place,” you said, “we’ll be with the

beautiful people,” but I couldn’t help

thinking you just wanted to see

topless women in thongs.


So, we spent our honeymoon in

South America. Brazil really was a beautiful

place, just as you said, and the women,

topless, wearing thongs…and I couldn’t help

thinking, must be in the water…


We did all the things that newlyweds do

on our South American honeymoon; we

walked along the white sands of

Copacabana Beach, we

shopped in trendy boutiques, we

ate rice and beans and made

newlywed love under the stars.


One day I felt queasy, before

blacking out, I remember, must’ve

been something I ate, you said. When

I came to, you were lying next to me

in our King-sized honeymoon bed, I was

somehow surprised to see you there—


your chest, rising and falling in my

peripheral vision, the soft, rhythmic

purr of your breathing—on our

honeymoon, always…it seemed

I was seeing you out of the

corners of my eyes.







together



Baby Shoes


okay. so

this guy walks up to me an’ my girl-homey while we coolin’ it on the steps at her house an’ he sees her little girl is coolin’ it on the grass an’ he’s got this little bag with him an’ then hey says “hey miss, what size shoe yo’ baby wear?” real quick and whispery like so my girl-homey says “size 8” an’ he says “i got some gym shoes for little girl feet/only costya 5 dollus” an’ my girl-homey says “i just bought her a pair” an’ then he says “3 dollus” an’ my girl-homey says “sorry brother/things is kinda tight money-wise” an’ so after my girl-homey says that he looks real sad in the face an’ turns an’ walks away mumblin’ somethin’ under his breath that sounds like it coulda been “thanks anyway” an’ after that we just sorta looks at each other an’ after that we 3 just goddup an’ went in the house to watch TV.



Sisters in Church on Sunday Morning


Songs of Amen

and Hallelujah! rise up

above glorious bouquets of

flowers and feathers,

beads and bows…


Delicate fibers dipped in liquid

crayola, every color of the spectrum

atop the heads of Praise

Givers in all their crowning

glory


Rows and rows of Praise

the Lord and

Thank you Jesus! rise up above

colorful bouquets crowning the

heads of Sisters…

in church on Sunday morning.



MOTHERLOVE (For Elizabeth)


You sent whispers of

Motherlove

to the womb…

to cushion my journey…


Upon my arrival…flames of fierce

Motherprotection

insulate me from the elements of harm,

engulf me in the cradle of

Motherarms…

to cushion my journey…


Loving me always through good and bad

child unlovable times.

It seemed too much for any one

girlchild

to carry on her shoulders…

to cushion my journey…


You dismissed the expectations

of others, told them that I was Yours. Your

Mothermedicine

healed my sickness in the night,

comforted me in chairs,

waiting in doctors’ offices, afraid

of needles, wiped my tears

with lollipops,

hamburgers, French fries and milkshakes…

to cushion my journey…


Motherwinds

of wisdom lifted me to the sky where

the sun awaited to light my path

through life,

and when the light went out,

You were there waiting,

beacon in hand…

to cushion my journey…



With

Motheranticipation,

a never ending craving

for knowledge and life, even

Cancer demon cells could not impede. With

Daughterlove,

I take you on my journey…

Now…


Our journey begins again. Together

at the helm, we visit new worlds,

taste new treats, live new lives, as

friend and mentor

MothertoDaughtertoMother…


And I am swept up

in waves of fleeting joy,

a selfish need to float

serenely upon a

Mothersea

forever…


to cushion my journey.



A GATHERING IN THE FIELD


There was a gathering in the field of Sisters,

sitting around a grand table sipping tea,

exchanging words like diamonds on their tongues,

writing their very essence on the wind

like so much brilliance…

And the stars came down from Heaven and listened—

as these Sisters gathered in the field

weaving tales of woman’s love for family and kinship,

spreading their wings in flight through HERstory times,

back to Great-Grams who gave them Queenly Beauty,

dipped in sun-ripened plum juice,

poured in finest crystal,

shimmering reflections in golden rivers

of spiritual revelations like so much Africa Blood

pumping life through the veins of the Nile,

giving birth to her future generations

of Ebony, Bronze, and Topaz daughters

gathered in the field…

as the stars came down from Heaven, listened,

and later…whispered all they’d heard

to the WORLD.



STRUTTIN’


We strutted, me and my

Girls

Up and down Julian St.

From Prairie to

Livernois

in unison

on hot summer days

of fun and no school.

Neighbors on front porches,

takin’ in the scenery,

seein’ us strut our stuff,

shakin’ their heads and

askin’ us “Who are you

supposed to be?”


“We’re the Julian Street Gang”

we said,

young almost wimmin,

showin’ our legs,

head bandin’, cornrowin’, afro tossin’, and

dirty gym shoein’

up and down and around

our Julian St.

domain…


While the fellas walked

behind, beside, around, and

in front yellin’ “Hey baby!”

and talkin’ stuff of

young, boy-men dreams.


We weren’t impressed outside,

but

inside was a different story…

where the giggles and the

flutters of the

butterflies played our

heart strings to the

beat of Sly and the Family, and the

Funkadelic tone, while



Marvin “Heard it through the Grapevine”

that we were “Signed, Sealed, and Delivered”

by Stevie Wonder-ful, and of course, that

made us fell

Supreme…


So

We strutted our stuff

up and down and around

our neighborhood…

The Julian Street Gang,

the rainbow girl-wimmin’

coalition, friends forever

sittin’ on the steps,

surveyin’ our kingdom

in our early

Queendom…


Singin’ sweet harmonies to

musical mentors

whose sounds caress

the bodies, playin’ tunes to

strut by,

singin’ soulful lullabies,

while we dance in

our dreams and

plot out our schemes

for another day of

Struttin’.







affirmations



Affirmations


Before you…

I WAS

In spite of you

I AM

Just to ignite you…

I WILL

With or without you…

I CAN

Forget about you…

I MUST

because


Before you…


I WAS



One Woman’s Legacy


doings speakings

emotions thinkings

ideas ideals

images impressions

that rip and run and scream and shout

awakening the consciousness of

future people…


blazing engraving

in their hearts on their minds

wishes dreams

concepts schemes

that intrigue and insight revolution and evolution

reawakening the consciousness of

future people.



Who Am I?


Though I may defy all

of what you’ve been taught

by the Runways and

Magazines to think of as

beautiful,

Beautiful is what I am.

Look closely.

My wisdom will astound you,

for I know all of what

we were, could be, should be,

what we are, can and

will be.

Listen.


I am your

Grandmother, your Mother,

your Daughter, your Sister, your

Aunt, and your Niece.

And they are me.


I am the essence

of our existence, I am

our past, our present,

and our future. I am

worldly—Africa, America,

Europe, the Caribbean.

I come from

Everywhere.


Who am I?

I am

a

Black Woman.


Discover me.



Momma, is…


“Momma, is

black still beautiful?”


she asked. Little Nubian Princess

with big brown eyes that shine with

brightness of African Sun and

plum skin aglow, bathed in luminous

Egyptian Moon Beams…

her crown, a mess of coal

coarse ringlets, stubborn against

the pulling, tugging, pressing, twisting

of acceptability; her legs glistening

(like) golden light reflections along

the River Nile—through layers of

petroleum jelly…


and I answered,

“Yes, never ceased to be so.”

and my heart swelled inside me, big

rushing flood rivers overflowing my

soul…and I looked in her face and saw

the confusion of contradiction/perplexing/

contemplation/of what is said/ and what

is meant…


but then…


she smiled, nodded her belief

and my swelling heart calmed in

relief while trickling waters of

sadness still remained, knowing that,

before long, she’d have to

ask again.







Herstory



Harlem Renaissance Time



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