Poetry

Give me my space.

Give me my time.

I’m still quietly feeling…

I’m still quietly healing…

<Can’t Rush This>

© 2017 K. N. Dozier. All rights reserved

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It Was Written...

Questions & Revelations

Appearance_of_sky_for_weather_forecast,_Dhaka,_Bangladesh

Precious One,

You’re still on site. You’re still living amongst the wreckage of the plane crash. You thought there were no survivors because you looked up and saw that you were alone. The man who was on board with you got out using his parachute LONG before the plane even took that nosedive. The very same parachute he told you about before you even boarded the flight….that night. The very same night your Spirit beckoned you to grab your parachute too and RUN OFF on foot…but you went AGAINST that instinct.

Therefore you betrayed yourself.

Therefore you broke your own Heart.

Therefore you caused your own death.

Or at least, it WOULD’VE been your death if it wasn’t for the intervening of the Ancestors.

The plane did plummet from the sky…..the plane did break apart and explode on impact, but you somehow survived. Badly burned, badly scarred, barely breathing but you were alive all the same. The Ancestors protected you, yes. but not from EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING. There WAS pain that needed to be felt, you were knocked unconscious, but you LIVED.

So why are you still living here amongst the wreckage? Are you hoping that he will one day come looking for you? Are you hoping to ride away together by sea instead? I’m telling you something…but it’s nothing you don’t already know: He’s not coming. Nobody is coming. He’s already on the other side of the world. He took another flight out with another and touched down into his new reality of completion and fulfillment.

What about you now?

Your body has healed almost completely at this point, you appear to be totally functional but you’re still somehow living amongst the wreckage. I’m calling this to your attention because you go through your everyday life….just “fine.”

You booked and took another flight with someone new. You’re currently under a bit of turbulence but the ride has been overall beautiful so far.

But everywhere you look every now and then, you see HIM…at least, someone who REMINDS you of him.

And in an instant you’re transported right back to the scene of the plane crash. It happens so easily, so quickly. TOO EASILY. TOO QUICKLY. That’s means you’re still THERE. Precious One, WHY are you still rolling and tumbling and thrashing around in the debris of the crash of that pilot-less plane?

That loveless flight?

That delusional trip?

Why, my Firefly, are you still here?

Ⓒ 2016 K. N. Dozier. All rights reserved.

After Hours..., It Was Written...

Chanm Lensomni #1

“Did you miss me?” he asked in a hushed tone as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

“Not as much as you hoped I would,” she scoffed in reply. “Obviously you didn’t miss me very much at all.”

“Hey now,” he said, sounding genuinely taken aback. “I’m not the one who walked away. That was your choice, remember? I sat up long, lonely nights waiting for you to come back.” He pulled his head back and cocked it to the side to gaze at his beloved’s face, but her thick, kinky hair blocked his view.

“Oh no,” she snapped, suddenly wiggling away from his touch. “No, no, no! You are not about to sit here and play the Guilt Trip Game with me. Not for the bullshit. Not today.

“Aww, girl, I’m not here to argue with you. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, either. I’m just saying…”

He sidled up to her on the other side of the room where she had retreated. “You really didn’t have to leave. I missed you.”

His dark brown gaze penetrated hers, and she could feel him slipping through the windows to her quietly quivering soul.

He swept down upon her so suddenly she didn’t have time to react. The next thing she knew, she was surrounded by a solid but gentle kind of warmth and her face was pressed snugly against his chest. 

She felt relaxed, safe and at ease, even if these feelings were against her will; that was simply the effect of a hug like this.

One of those Brown Sugar kind of hugs. There was simply no escaping.

“You never answered my question, sweet lady,” he continued, now stroking the small of her back. “I said did you miss me?”

The only thing that pulled her attention away from the moisture that appeared from nowhere between her legs, was the smoldering sensation at the top of her head, which told her that he was staring a hole through her skull, through all seven of her chakras and straight down past the hardwood floor.

Did she dare look up?

Her mind screamed no, but her heart whispered–

“Yes?”

His voice, daring to complete her thoughts sent her face snapping upward to look at him.

“W-what?”

“Your answer,” he returned smoothly. “From all this silence, I assume the answer is without a doubt, ‘ Yes.’ Yes, you missed me.”

Yes, she did miss him. Those dark, mysterious eyes; that velvet chestnut skin…did he need to know that though?

Right now, at that?

Her mind screamed no, but her heart whispered…

 

© 2016 K. N. Dozier. All rights reserved.

 

After Hours..., Poetry

No Rules

Pain isolates

and tears melt away

 

all the things you were told

all the rules of life and living

of fillings and feelings.

 

The only thing that matters

as you cry throughout the night

 

is to know the one kindred spirit

that remains

with the coming of dawn.

 

© 2015 K. N. Dozier. All rights and reserved.

WARRIOR of LIGHT

New Music!

I just HAVE to share this song with you! I found about this amazing artist, Azizaa the other day when one of my Facebook friends shared this article from the FADER. Check it out…and AWAKEN. Click the picture to read her latest interview!

AZIZAA

Here’s her song which I am HOOKED on called “Black Magic Woman,” in which Azizaa brazenly proclaims her African roots, knowing EXACTLY who and what she is, and she DENOUNCES and SPITS UPON the evils of what Christianity (and ALL religions not African-based) have done to us all WORLDWIDE. She offers the words and images which should stir something up deep inside and help us all to AWAKEN and RETURN to who and what WE ARE as an African people. ENJOY!

Poetry

Deferred?

Screenshot_2015-07-27-15-51-10-1

“What happens to a dream deferred?”

Is the question he asked me so long ago,

Long before my current form was formed

Long before there was even a he and she

To make ME.

Still, from a faraway place

I heard the question.

So here and now I turn towards the sky

And reply,

“What happens to a dream deferred?

It just so happens, that they go on into

Forever,

Energy

Neither created nor destroyed

Cycling through lifetimes

Never coming to an end,

Flowing through one to the next,

Eternal

Until the day

A dear spirit comes along

And fulfills

What the previous spirits could not

Or would not.

What happens to a dream deferred?

I’d like to think my thoughts as theory

For I have no intention of ever really

Knowing

The answer.”

 

© 2015 K. N. Dozier. All rights reserved.

 

Poetry

Destination

Abstract-Art-Amie-Williams

She said she wanted to Dive Deep,
So he took her DEEPER
Past the limits she created against herself
Past the default faults of her essence
Simply because what she saw was only
A skewed version of her True Essence
So he took her hand…
And they DOVE.

She said she wanted to Dive Deep…
So he took her DEEPER…
Past the realities they were both fed from conception
Past the dreams they were told could never be
Past the falsehoods they saw through from the start
Once they started to see…

Dive…
Swim…
In a new direction…
Go…
He helped her on her way…

Things fell apart, broken down to the Basic Essence…
Shapes, symbols, sensations
Colors, texture, endless contexts…
She dove deep
He took her DEEPER.
They broke the surface on the Other Side
Deep inside.

The Lovers,
They became, to their relief

ABSTRACT.

© 2015 K. N. Dozier. All Rights Reserved.

Art

Transformations

Here is my newest post written for Ataensic Media’s “Arts & Culture” category. Enjoy!

Ataensic Media

Last night, I watched Left Eye’s (from the successful 90’s R&B group, TLC) documentary for the first time EVER called “Last Days of Left Eye.” Yes, I know I’m years late, but the way I got watch this in the first place was from what I call my YouTube Adventures. You know how you go on YouTube say, at 6 p.m. looking for something like maybe a tutorial for a Bantu knot-out but next thing you know, it 3 o’clock in the morning and now you’re watching Divine Nine strolling or a basket full of meowing little kittens? Yeah, it’s like that.

It all started with me listening to Aaliyah’s “Enough Said” (the fan-made SOLO version, because Drake is a pain in the ass to listen to), then I looked up “Drake on Aaliyah,” and a video popped up where Drake talks about how Aaliyah influenced his life…

View original post 697 more words

Art

ANNOUNCEMENT: New SOUL Meets BODY™ Products!

I am PLEASED to announce the debut of my NEWEST SOUL Meets BODY™ artwork: HANDMADE ADINKRA BOOKMARKS! This one right here is the one I made for myself. Want one? Custom-made Adinkra bookmark option is available! Hit me up! To all my fellow Pro-African BOOK WORMS out there, I know you want in on THIS! Inbox, DM or email me at soularlioness@gmail.com for details.

It Was Written...

Two, Too, To

“You’re trying too hard,” she said. “You’re trying way too hard.”

He hung his head low and stared down at his busy fingers: thumbs twiddling, fingers lacing and unlacing. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Finally, he glanced up at her and asked solemnly, “So what would you have me do?”

She leaned forward, grabbed his hands and stared straight into his eyes. “I,” she said, “wouldn’t have you do anything. That, my love, is up to you.”

© 2015 K. N. Dozier. All Rights Reserved.