E.T. (Enthusiastic Telemarketer), in what may seem, an extraterrestrial environment, where few hearts boldly go. Not to become alienated, by the close encounters. The cold shoulder, the static, the panic. The tendency, phone home, to someone who cares. Only to find out, there’s a bad connection, the disconnect. Your heart starts racing, your mind pacing, you’re facing the reality. The Smooth Operator, the same dialect, “the number you called, is no longer in service,” making you nervous. Mr. Telephone man, there’s something wrong with my line. When I dial my baby’s number, I get a click every time. E.T, someone, will acknowledge you; “Hello, is it me you’re looking for?” E.T, in the meanwhile, become the first; “Information Technology support enthusiast, with your very own geek squad. Elliot, can offer some tech support, until the issue becomes resolved. E.T, when all else fails, reboot… your heart with love, it empowers confidence. Negative energy, a corruptible virus, making the heart of the matter untenable. Even, hard driven, but overtaxed internal organisms, pushed beyond its limits, are weakened. Information technology, from head to heart, the download, in encrypted messaging. When all hope is gone, Alt, Escape Delete; the negativity, and replace it with positive assurance. E.T, hopes and cheers, keep the heart fixed on home. Where, everybody knows your name. An Enthusiastic Telemarketer, endeavoring to be in contact with someone, supportive of their needs!
A brand new Jeep, the sticky price ain’t cheap. The salesman, waits in the shadows, the creep… upon you, trying to catch your heart off guard, with one intention. Get you to make the leap, dip deep into your pocket. He sees in your eyes, the love seeps, but the question is, does the beauty keep; wax on, wax off? And even though, you try to flip the script, give him the slip. The fast talker, well versed in the art of deal, or no deal; all your money to keep. Doesn’t care if you lose sleep, one eye open watching for the hand that reaps. Oh, man, the creep… ing, upon your brand new Jeep. So, before it gets that far, you look for the exit, but it’s in the distance. But the faster talker, not willing to walk a mile, the man with the plan. This is what you do; “just slip out the back, Jack. Make a new plan, Stan. Don’t need to be coy, Roy, just get yourself free. And hop on the bus, Gus. You don’t need to discuss much, just drop off the key, Lee, get yourself free. ” Then, warn all your peeps, to stay clear of the man. The fast talker, trying to get your arm, and heart twisted, into making the leap. Buy what the money in your pocket, may not be able to keep, the over priced; Jeep!
* May this humorous, but somewhat enlightening post be fun, but also spark a conversation, between heart and mind. Don’t let anyone, talk you into doing something, contrary to what you can live with!
My love, knows how to crack a joke, but, don’t get it twisted; I’m not here, to clown around. I’ve got a tale to tell, a love story to spell, that makes the heart swell. From the mountain top, my soul will yell; I’ve got a love, I can’t sell. To get yours, ring the bell. A profound love worth knowing, is a love worth fighting for. From time to time, my heart will give you a nice chuckle, to any love less than, don’t let your needs buckle. To make, the heart laugh out loud, love doesn’t have to be fancy. I’ve never made the mistake, calling my wife Nancy; Drew the line there. Expressions can be funny, but can your candid love, profoundly stir your honey? My heart, likes a good mystery. So, tell me this Sherlock, is your love sheer luck, or is the love within your heart, a riddled mystery, that needs to be solved? But, enough joking for a minute, here’s a serious question; is it duck season, or rabbit season? Shoot, I don’t consider myself funny man, but this I know. Humorous expressions, have a beautiful way, to engage hearts and minds, with a loving posture. Yeah, at times I can be silly, and I’m not even from Philly. I can’t claim, to be a Superman, or a Casanova. I don’t call my wife, honey, or babe. When she became, my biggest fan. The music in my soul, was my new edition, she’s my candy girl; her love, my sweet thang. She, doesn’t even need to blush, it’s my heart feels the rush; when her love smiles at me. So, riddle me this; if every time, her love surges through my heart, would that mean, her love is electric? I’m not a jokester, I’m a serious kat, you better believe that, I even wear the hat; rat-a-tat-tat. Like I said, I’m not here, to beat my own drum. I want, to make hearts smile, with love’s sincere affirmation. This is not, just a play with words. Romeo, oh Romeo; wherefore art thy love? Deny the world, but never deny the father, thy heart. Laughter is therapy, love an endearing muse, to enlighten the soul. When, the curtain closes, ask yourself this question; does your heart resonate, do you allow love to take center stage? Displaying the beauty, within love’s, humorous expressions, that never gets old!
So many hearts, look forward to that Second cup. For me and my buds, the taste would never be, a double double in my cup. Love, what butter’s my bread, and sugar’s my tea. Love has an effect, the nuance subjective. Love, put words in your mouth, will leave an impression on the heart. Love, will never move a heart, if just careless whispers. The heart, what opens up the conversation, to confide with the soul. Love, shouldn’t be a question, it’s meant to inspire, be an influence. Love’s never shaken, love is always enriched, poured with a creamy texture, the sweetness stir-in. Love has an aroma, filling the air like incense. When the love fills you up, it soothes misty blues. More than a feeling, when the warmth is felt. Love-in the moment, bliss in the encounter. When the love overflows, your cup is full. Time for it to become, a second cup. Get your portion, let your heart kick back, let your soul unwind. A long with the birds chirping, feeling the cool breeze blowing, your heart is swaying. Playing in the background, a smooth 80’s throw back. Tell it to your heart, I’m not the only one, who enjoys a second cup. Whenever, the beat… in your heart moves you, be swayed to say; it’s going to be a glorious day, clouds don’t matter. Contentment, doesn’t need you, to add-in context, for the heart be fulfilled, truly. Sometimes, invite friends over, to enjoy each other’s heart. A second cup, that’s everyone’s portion. With every encounter, love becomes the muse. In the fulfillment, love is the reason, in every season. When love truly resonates, it lingers. With just a smile, love captures the heart. To get the mojo going, some hearts require the java upload. Half way up, still half way down. And if, the love can’t be contained? Tell the world, shh, don’t interrupt, when the love is pouring… out!
Bonus piece below:
Dear Sweetness!
My sweetness, before the love became, my soul was so bitter. But now, it seems I can’t do without you, this love is sweet. Won’t you, continue to pour out your sweetness in me. I promise, to receive your love. In my heart and soul, you’re my desire. Your sweet love, it’s such a blessing. Double double, your sweetness is needed, not once, not twice; but three times, it seems lately. Get enough, love is subjective. Stir it up, for the sweetest love, could never be a heart, into love that’s sugar free. Don’t, let my faith in love be shaken, stirred forevermore. Sweet love, brings so much to the table. For my, my, my, heart and soul. There’s nothing, Equal to you, you’re Splenda, in every way. True love fills you up, dips Sweet and Low. So bitterness, no longer becomes. This love, just right for me, you’re sweet like that. Thirty four years, my heart has been enjoying love’s sweetest moments. Just a spoonful of love, enough to help sweeten my soul. Sugar, your love is, will forever be; just right… for me!
Yours truly, Coffee; Black!
I don’t drink coffee, never have. This one, this share, for all the coffee lovers. Cheers, to the fulfillment!
If you asked, a Newly married man, in the honeymoon stage; who’s the boss, in the relationship? He would lovingly say; “we both are, 50/50 love.” But, when the honeymoon is over, the pledge will surely be; my love forever, a day, then comes the “Honey-Do.” The list, the top ten ways, the love becomes complete. It’s at that very moment, he begins to realizes; “who the boss really is, “Love.” For love makes you do, endearing love has an undeniable name. Some say, the characteristic that best describes, “She.” When she takes the “I,” out of Honey (I) Do. Everyone knows, they no “I,” in team… work; every team, knows love is the true motivator. And every man should understand, “her sharing, is caring, in a happy life.” Yes, love definitely has a name; “He,” and he shouldn’t mind, to receive all the love, in her heart. His complete(d) love, what tells her; honey I do, love you. And absolutely he should, do whatever it takes, to show how profound, her love is. What he forgets, she reminds; I will have your back… next week, another love letter. After all, she truly deserves it, have all his love; just saying. So men, just get it… done. It doesn’t matter, how many days it takes, how many weekends you give up. Love’s about giving, your devotion, your heart and soul. Men, love doesn’t procrastinate, it’s an act, moved by your motion. For, if your list could talk, you would hear it say; hey you, complete me. Men, whenever the love of your life, ask for all your heart, give it! For it will tell her, how much you relish the I do, love you. And, when it all said and done, tell it to her heart; honey, I am complete, your love completes me!
When, you’re feeling super fly, no one, has to ask your heart why? They will surely see, love makes your soul soar. In love, a different kind of living. The heart humming, a soul that won’t stop dancing, even when no music is playing. Love is the song, keeping the heart in tune, swaying your beliefs. Love bubbling, spilling when the heart is full. A heart, doesn’t have to know how to dance. For the blood to be pumping, the beat jamming. A soul freestyling, knows how to glide, to every heartbeat. When, your heart knows how to glide, your soul will certainly smile, doing the electric slide, feeling energized. When, one step forward, two steps back won’t do? Bust a smooth move, get your heart in the groove, glide on the dance floor. Grin, laugh out loud; like you got away with something. Your soul, avoided singing the blues. Instead, you’re dancing to a love song. Not getting down, to a brand new funk. You don’t need a crowd, be your own captivated audience. Dance your heart out, like there’s no one watching. Uncontrollable, feelings incredible; love in the flow, the joy overflows. Celebrate, you are; what love says you are. Whenever, you’re feeling the strain, outside the pouring rain. Tears, don’t mean you’re losing, the groove. Just say, heart, drop the beat; the rhythm, the rhyme, the harmony, will free your soul. When, the melody move you, the love will hold you. Keep you dancing, all night long. Until all the blues, drift away. When, pacing back and forth won’t do? When, the day wants you to get down? Roll with it, tell it to bounce, and skate. Don’t let the mood, break your stride. Glide forever, on the wings of love!
Her heart is free, her sweet love, such a treat. How can it be, my heart is never tired, dancing to the rhythm of her love. Whenever my heart beat, needs to slow dance. I hold out my soul, and ask love, if I can have this dance. Love, extends the request, takes me by the heart. And, with no hesitation, her love touches me deeply. My dancing Queen, her love is resting, gently on my heart. I swear, don’t dare, interrupt this love affair. Don’t come between, my heart, and my dancing Queen. All the passion, all the anticipation; truly nothing without it being a heart, moved by love’s graceful embrace. No one, knows what tomorrow holds, but this one thing I surely know. Love will forever, lead my heart and soul, to the middle of the dance floor. My dancing Queen, we have fun, find pleasure in each other. Letting our hearts, dancing; into the wee, hours of forever!
My Queen and I, two hearts, one heartbeat; rhythmically incline. But even so, between our forevermore, and our in-depth slow Waltz. The dance, becomes a sassy Tango; my mind, and her thinking, will love become a break dance? My soul said no, we will Tango, and my heart will take the lead; show you how I bust a move. My Rumba, not about the being “hip,” movement. My heart, plays it cool, phrasing my love passionately; in a tasteful rhythmic flow. My soul, knows the gravity; endearing love floats, on the clouds of heaven. It’s knowing how to Tango, without stepping on the love, between two hearts. In my dancing Queen’s world, orbits her view point; the preferred dance style, the Salsa. A love language, expressed in spicy connotations. But don’t get it twisted, she’s no latin momma; she’s my Caribbean Queen, and I love her. She’s doesn’t desire a throne, but every day; I Do, crown her heart, with my love. When love collides, some might think it a bit dramatic. But love tells me, she’s expressing, the passion, deep in her heart. My beloved, my Nubian Queen; her love dances, with my soul. Yes, my dancing Queen, her heart is free. Her sweet love, such a treat!
Since the dawn of time, whenever a Nubian queen, needed to address an unmanageable situation. She would set out on a quest, to the salon. The place, formally called; “the hairdresser.” To beautify, enhance her natural glow. The deNial, why would anyone; when her beauty, flows like a river. While there, she would surely become enlightened, with the latest news. For some, the wether or not, even if you didn’t ask for it. Forecasted, the possible hot tempered, or the possibility of the cold shoulder. What happens in the salon, would mostly be broadcasted… outside. My Nubian beauty, never felt the need to engage. Her heart, chose the path of virtuous. She would sit, on her rightful throne, with stylish fashion, make her intent known. Some queens, made the dialogue be, about establishing dominance. She, focused on the productive, what wasn’t toxic, to her crown. Sometimes, the beautify encounter seemed, like a sparring match; the bob, and the weave. You bear it, and grin, trying to keep the peace. The subjugation, reigning wayward thoughts!
Even though, weaving seems like a grudge match? Love, not about the upper hand. Loosening the grip, on love extended, eases the tension. To let your heart get tangled, up in a not so subtle exchange. The hairdresser, a name rarely used these days. The new title, is more stylish, sophisticated; “as a salon, and spa.” Where you go, to get your hair did, your nails did, your feet did, your face… did I mention? True beauty, resonates from within. A Nubian queen, have that “je ne sais quoi. (a quality, that can’t be easily described). Natural beauty, it’s a real ting; dem ah fi tek you serious. (they have to take you seriously) For, every beautified soul, showcases your presence, as royalty. A heart, looking so fly, like a graceful butterfly. Knowing, how to withstand pressure. Makes the resolve, a fabulous measure. Making you, wanting to grab your rag and wave, jamdown style. Caribbean queen, don’t ever throw in the towel. When you get home, love will be… forever. Though, life makes you feel, like you’re losing the fight, and your mind, with every tug on the heartstrings. Nubian, pray for strength, and you will, surely endure to the end(s)!
Nubian, “And after you, have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” 1 Peter 5:10 ESV
This piece, for all the black women. Who had to endure, every beautifying encounter, for love, and with grace. I originally, wrote this as a draft in 2015, not sure if I would post it. I was inspired to share it, by a piece I read about black hair. And so, I rewrote it, for black history month. My Nubian and I, have been married for 34 years, this May. Seeing her, go through the long sessions, and the process involved. Makes me appreciate, what women go through. Even though, this is tongue and cheek, and though some may not get the humor, or have never been through the experience. I wanted to honor, all the Nubian queens. For what they do to look their best, for themselves, and the ones they love!
Girl, I remember; when your love stepped to me. You were in my vision, you picked my line… of sight. I’m sure, you must have liked, what saw… on the menu? I was sensing you, but you weren’t hearing me. You needed to, and I needed you; to tell it to my heart. But instead, you spoke to my ego. Why, are you upfront? Guys, are usually in the back, checking their temperature. Yeah, she said it, and did I it. Relished the opportunity, for the Hot Dog challenge. Oh, it was on. She got me cheesed, and wanted to take a bite. I loving said; “whatever the girls can do, I can do.” She, rolled her eyes, and my heart, had a role to play; not get my back up. I could see, she must have thought, I was a winner. Well, maybe, perhaps; she thought it. This Hot dog, a real wiener. Yeah, she stepped to me, and I stepped in it. My heart, not letting the love Ketch-up, to my brain. To alleviate, putting my foot in it. So, I checked it; my posture, my attitude. My heart, she may have stolen it. But, I played it cool, and showed her love. I wasn’t, about to let the moment. Become a pickle, in a jar of clay!
This Hot dog, took a stand. Yeah, I was feeling it, the heat. But, with a loving gaze, just smiled. And said, can I have your heart; I mean, your order… boo. And serve it up, with a smile. What-ever, just give me a small fry, guy. I was tempted, but didn’t up sell. Instead, gave it to her, my heart; in my daydream. She paid, left my mind, but not my heart. Afterwards, it dawned on my heart. One plus one, you and me. First impression, less than super fly, in my hat and all. She, probably didn’t remember, a certified hot dog. Her grade, must have been an “A”. Coming in, she certainly didn’t know. McDonalds, had a hot dog… on the menu? Her love, was the vision, in my dreams. Then it happened, a month or so later. She walked, back into my heart, she couldn’t stay away. She got hired, and we lived happily ever after. The end! Well, not quite. First, I had to win, her heart. My hotdogging, wasn’t a nothing burger. Love, there’s no secret to it. Build the layers, and add in substance. How, two hearts, stay in love. Everyday, say can my love, serve you? Thirty five years later, the order of the day. Her love, my heart, together forever. With every visit, in our daily encounter. There will never be, any false advertising. Just true love, for a lifetime!
A Memoir, of a storybook encounter. Dear, memoir. This entry, about the encounter, at my hot dog stand. It was, the summer of 86. When, her heart levanted, into Mickey D’s. She was looking, but not expecting. That a hot dog, would be on the menu. She was fly, and so was I. A well dressed, Big Mac… daddy, for our future kids. She stepped to me, with her sassy smile. It registered, with my heart. I returned a smile, and said to her; welcome, to my heart. Her love, and my heart. We hit it off, from the jump. Profound ooks were exchanged, with some back and forth. Her love, was dancing with my heart. She rolled her eyes, she surely much have thought? Oh boy, isn’t he something. Yeah, sweet and sour, that was the flavor flave. But, my kind of sweet talking; it needed work. Yeah, but tongue and cheek, it enhances a delightful encounter. A tasteful love, becomes deeper, lasting, with a bit of humorous expressions. Through the years, nostalgic memories. Remnants, of a hot dog stand… off. My heart, will never leave her hungry, for love. Just frank, further to the point. Let our hearts, be exposed, for the world to see!
I hope, you all enjoyed this storybook. A true story, of what happened. When my wife and I, first met. I was working at McDonald’s, when she came into my line. Back then, the guys worked in kitchen, and the the ladies worked up front, except for me. She questioned me, the back and forth. She rolled her eyes, left the restaurant with her order. A month or so later, she got hired. She said, I was arrogant, and wanted nothing to do with me. Thirty five years later, the storybook is not romance. But in love, for a lifetime!
Loneliness, and heartache, it’s a real ting. Sometimes, the phone doesn’t ring. Leaving you to go, through the warm summer days wondering. Will the bee string, will the dogs bite? Will another lockdown, leave you feeling sad? Just, simply remember your favorite things. And the perspective, won’t be so bad. The raindrops on roses, the ticklish whiskers on kittens. Let’s your soul, beat the humdrum. Make some tea, in your bright copper kettle. When the door rings, grab your favorite warm woolen mittens. Outside, your Amazon brown paper packages, tied up with string. For some, these are a few, of your favorite things. Like riding the merry go round, on your favorite cream colored ponies. With a tasty, crisp apple strudels. Soon, winter will be here. With more door bells, and sleigh bells. A time, to make some schnitzel with noodles. But first, let your heart bask in the colorful, the autumn hue!
September, oh October. Your dazzling display, captures the imagination. The crimson muse, radiant with the colors of love. The breadth, makes the soul soar. Your heart having wings, like wild geese, flying with the moon on their wings. These, a few of life’s favorite things. Girls in white dresses, tied with blue satin sashes. Daydreaming, of all the snowflakes, that stay on the nose, and eyelashes. The silver white winters, they melt into spring. The season has changed, part of your favorite things. A well dressed up status, just a cling, accessorized with bling. But, it won’t benefit the heart, it’s a fleeting thing. Instead, let your heart be captivated, with a heartfelt love. What a joy it would bring, to have your honeybun. Your sugar and tea, double, double. The love better, better; with flavor, flavor. To help, take away the sting, and make the heart sing. When, the dog bites, if the bee stings. Your soul, remembering one thing. Let your heart love, and dance. The hills are alive, with the sound of music!
A Love Story! 
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