The new Elevate Lounge is a spoken word forum - base on spirituality - a counseling and bereavement Group.
Elevate is about spirtual awareness and consciousness of self as women. It is to promote a positive self image of women and serves as a forum to express and share our hurts, pains, disappointments, fears as well as our joys. There is abuse counseling, rape and bereavement support. A completely Second Life project that we hope will grow and be able to thrive in Real Life
Meet Raevaughn Johnson. He is amazing poet and he's only 13 years old. He's from my hometown, Hampton Roads. (Shoutout to 757!) And he's SUPER talented. Mark my words this kid is on the come up. I don't know about you guys but I'm getting hopeful about the future again.
Check out his poem he recited for Team Hampton Roads for Brave New Voices. Let's Elevate.
I read this story on a blog by Paul Barker. It discussed how some of us out there find ourselves in abusive relationships. How in public the abusers seem like ideal mates but behind closed doors they are monsters. Since I've never really touched on domestic violence in relationships here I figured now is a better time than any. It true sometimes Love can hurt, but it should never hurt because your spouse, mate, current flame, or whatever you call that extra person in your life is physically or emotionally tearing you down. NO ONE has the right to put their hands on you for ANY reason. No one has a right to make you feel less than the beautiful person you are. If you're in a relationship that is toxic, I urge you to get out NOW. Don't kid yourself into thinking it will change if you change certain things about you or your situation with them. It will not get better and no the person isn't going to change. You have no control over the way they behave. You can only control yourself. Please, love yourself enough to realize you deserve better. Okay, now that I'm done with my public service announcement... please check this out.
Can You Love A Monster? By Paul Barker
What do you do if someone you love is a rotten person? Not just an inconsiderate jerk but actually just fundamentally wrong?
Last week, I was awoken at six in the morning to a phone call from my brother’s girlfriend. This was unusual—she rarely called me unless I was on the East Coast visiting them—so I decided to pick up. All I heard on the other line was indecipherable words and violent sobbing. My first instinct was that my brother had been injured and I immediately felt a pit develop in my stomach. I asked her if everything was okay and the first words she got out of her mouth were, “I want you to know that your brother is a terrible person.”
Okay.
A little backstory: My brother is messed up. Even though we’ve become “close” in the last few years, I still acknowledge that he’s a person with serious rage issues. I knew things weren’t going so well between he and his girlfriend. He had cut her off from her old life when they started dating and subsequently made her entirely dependent on him. He’s a rich dude so he basically has the power to do whatever he wants. She’s a girl with little education or skills so at first, this must have felt like a sweet deal. Move in with a rich guy, get coddled and live happily ever after.
She failed to realize that my brother is a controlling weirdo who doesn’t like to leave the house. He suffers from crippling anxiety and anger management issues. Everyone in my family knows this but when this girl came into his life, we hoped that she could be the one to chill him out. She was so sweet and kind and loyal. Honestly, she was the perfect girlfriend and we prayed that she would knock some sense into my brother and help him deal with his crap.
That didn’t happen obviously because now she was calling me at six in the morning to tell me that he was a terrible person. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this either. When I stayed with them around the holidays, she came into the guest bedroom where I was staying when my brother was in the shower and told me that she couldn’t breathe in this house, that he was paranoid and obsessive and she wanted to get out. I told her to dump him, that he was screwed up and couldn’t love her the way that she deserved. She agreed but ultimately didn’t do anything.
She dropped a bombshell on me this time though when she told me that my brother hit her. I was stunned and disheartened. I always secretly wondered if my brother was physically abusive to his girlfriend. After all, the concept didn’t seem so far-fetched. He had already declared psychological warfare on this poor girl so what would stop him from slapping her around?
I told her all of the things I should’ve: You need to get away, he’s insane, make a clean break. Who knows if she actually will though. Now I’m stuck with this knowledge that my brother abuses women and I’m unsure what to do with it.
I immediately called my mom and told her the news but she didn’t believe me. In fact, she hung up on me, which was the response I expected to get actually. My mom is a big fan of denial (one time when I was abusing pills, she found a giant bag of Vicodin in my room and didn’t say anything) and I can understand why she would not want to think of her son in that way. But it doesn’t leave me with much to do. I want to call my father because I know he would believe it but I’m also worried he might disown my brother. And what if she goes back to him? Then they come to Thanksgiving dinner with everyone knowing that he hits her. Pass the turkey, please.
I also love my brother, which makes this not a cut and dry situation. This is a tug of war between the power of filial love and what I know is wrong. Can I love my brother knowing that he has done these terrible things? Am I allowed to? Blood is supposed to be thicker than water but what if that blood is spoiled and kicking the water’s ass? I honestly don’t know what to do. You’re supposed to love your family no matter what but I don’t know if the “no matter what” included this. One thing is clear however, which is nothing will be the same. I will always look at him and see what he’s done to her. It’s funny how quickly a relationship can change. It takes so long to build but it only took one phone call to destroy it.
Monsters are real and abuse can happen to anybody. Love Yourself enough to GET OUT and if you're too scared please tell somebody. You do not have to suffer in silence. There are people waiting to help you. Thanks for reading. Let's Elevate?
I found this letter on a website. It made me smile but also think. I thought I'd share it with you guys. Of course, this letter is easily just as relevant in my neighborhood as it probably is in yours. Let's be the village ya'll and nurture these youngsters. Not just sit, watch, and complain but get in there and get our hands dirty. Remember like Whitney said, "They are our future." Enjoy and please let's elevate?
An Open Letter To The 12-Year-Olds In My Neighborhood By Chelsea Fagan
Hey, Guys,
How are you? How’s puberty? Hitting you pretty hard I guess… yeah, braces, rough. Girls aren’t as smelly/ weird as they were last year, you kinda want to talk to them now, and you have a mouth full of metal and a face full of acne. I feel that. And the ladies, how are we doing? Into Justin Bieber or Demi Gomez or whatever is popular right now? That’s cool, that’s cool.
Look, I wanted to talk to you because, well, things are getting kind of weird. I’m 22, and I know that puts me in about the same age bracket as Cloris Leachman and Father Time for you guys, so I feel I speak with some authority. But, you know, it wasn’t so long ago that I was 12 years old. I was listening to the Backstreet Boys, sitting on my inflatable glitter chair, and putting heart stickers on my Walkman. They were poignant times, and I wouldn’t want to take them from you. We all deserve that moment when we fumble through hormones and middle school pre-algebra.
But the thing is, I see you guys around here a lot–I see you guys smoking, licking the backs of each other’s throats, talking about getting drunk/ high the night before, yelling at us older people, playing in traffic, wearing stilettos with miniskirts (a combination not even a Jenna Jameson in her prime could really pull off), and generally being… old. And I know, I wasn’t an angel when I was your age. No one was. It’s a time for experimentation, that’s for sure. But I feel like the kind of experimentation you should be taking part in at your age is sneaking out to the clubhouse past curfew and chugging the Fun Dip sugar straight out of the packet. You know, kid stuff.
And I know, you guys aren’t kids! Some of you have those painful little beginner breasts and some of your testicles have even descended! Theoretically, some of you could be reproducing. But if Maury and MTV have taught us anything, shouldn’t it be that just because you can have children, doesn’t mean you should? I have friends my age with kids and, believe me, they are still well in the train wreck league. No need to be challenging them at the Premature Parent World Series. And perhaps the fact that you guys have grown up in a big city, constantly exposed to scary strangers, hypodermic needles, and public transportation has led you to believe that you are mature and world-weary enough to handle the kind of crazy you seem to want to get into. But just because your childhood wasn’t spent chasing fireflies, playing with your dogs in your backyard, and running home when your mom calls you in for dinner doesn’t mean that you are any less an innocent 12-year-old.
But who could blame you, really? I mean, look at what you’re growing up with. You go on to any computer and type in “porn,” you are welcome into a world beyond your wildest dreams, filled with people having sex from every angle conceivable. (Though despite your assumption that no one will ever find out about your lying when clicking the “Over 18 To Enter” buttons, I assure you–Obama knows. He knows, and He is judging.) But regardless, your unlimited access to all that is immediate, vulgar, and misleading must be hard to overcome. And what are your pop icons? Ke$ha? Katy Perry? I will be the first to admit that Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera are by no means saints, but we got them at pre-meltdown/ stripper phases, and some of their songs could be considered, by any standards, a bit chaste. Ke$ha rubs glitter on her vagina and sits on the camera lens.
All I’m saying is, you have your whole lives to grow up. You have your mid-teens to do like we did and fumble around ungracefully on the internet, looking for a few scraps of guidance in this terrifying sexual labyrinth. You have your early twenties to wear incredibly uncomfortable shoes and stand outside, ridiculously underdressed for the weather, shivering as you wait to get in some overrated club. You have your whole life to smoke–but let’s try to just avoid that one altogether. I know the temptation to grow up and own your adolescence at such a tender age is powerful, and I know that growing up in a city filled with so many opportunities must entice you to pick the worst ones, but seriously–calm down. All these mistakes and deplorable behavior will be waiting for you when you get just a smidge older. At least wait until you can coherently blog about it to start ruining your lives.
And while I have you here, could I ask you a quick favor–could you go get your parents for me? We need to have a quick talk.
Do not stand at my grave and weep written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
That poem always gets me. It provides healing and hope sometimes when the pain feels like it's never going to stop. Don't we all need a little healing and hope sometimes?
When someone special to us leaves our lives for whatever reason, it can be so hard to find the joy in the situation. Funny how something written in 1932 is just as relevant in 2011.
I hope whoever reads this finds joy in my words or the words in that poem. Furthermore, I hope healing finds you and the peace you once had will return. Life is fragile so we must respect and appreciate each person who crosses our path. It is my firm belief that life is all about relationships. So we must learn the lessons, give thanks, and embrace each day.In the meantime, let's keep coming together and healing one another.
Check out this poem "Favorite Color" by Jay Davis. Hug somebody you love today and tell them so.
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973), whose real name is Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto, was born on 12 July, 1904, in the town of Parral in Chile. He went on to be a wonderful Chilean poet and politician. According to wikipedia (which I am very aware is not always a reliable source of information) Neruda wrote in a variety of styles such as erotically charged love poems as in his collection Twenty Poems of Love and a Song of Despair, surrealist poems, historical epics, and overtly political manifestos. In 1971 Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature. Colombian novelist Gabriel García Márquez once called him "the greatest poet of the 20th century in any language." Neruda always wrote in green ink as it was his personal color of hope. The man was great!
His Poems are going to move you. I'm sure of it. That's why I decided to post a few so just in case you never got a chance to read some of the best poetry about love you'll ever rest your eyes upon, today you will. His poems make me want to rush to the alter. Surely I could have decided post the poems he wrote about his childhood or even the one he wrote about a turtle. But as always I choose Love. Why? Because he makes something so complex seem just as it should be.. simple & beautiful. Hope you guys enjoy him like I did.
Let's Elevate?
“Sonnet XVII "
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
— Pablo Neruda
I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
— Pablo Neruda
"Love."
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.
— Pablo Neruda
"If You Forget Me"
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
I'm juss gon say what I need to juss gon put it on the table And spread it across your bread
As much as I didn't want I have stumbled tripped fallen ova myself in love with every molecule of you
The walk on you The way you out and then in breathe Simply your eyes man got my thighs swellin' and my knees beggin' to part I do I do love everything about you All that makes you you And what I do not know, I swear I will love too If you just show me
I know it's crazy but I swear My heart doesn't pump blood When you are not near me I juss walk my way through life comatose Till I hear my name in your key I juss stay Hoping, wishing, praying for the moment you say it's cool for me to give you what I got Cool for me to give you what I keep Cool for me to give you what is fresh behind the apples And the pears but you don't Won't Accept it then accept it then return it My logic understands but my back is tired of the weight My feet are swollen and my fingers ache from writing
Don't you see? I'm willing Willing To go the extra continent Willing To carry that extra gallon and love that extra kind I am placing myself on the table Spreading myself across your bread So, say something It's your move
poetry by Jill Scott from her book "The Moments, the Minutes, the Hours"
I wanted to share it because she is so phenomenal!
Check out her poetry in the video below Jill Scott - "An Evening of Poetry At The White House"
I never dreamed you'd leave in summer I thought you would go then come back home I thought the cold would leave by summer But my quiet nights will be spent alone
You said there would be warm love in springtime That is when you started to be cold I never dreamed you'd leave in summer But now I find myself all alone
You said then you'd be the life in autumn Said you'd be the one to see the way You know I never dreamed you'd leave in summer But now I find my love has gone away
Why didn't you stay?
Greetings,
I was listening to Stevie Wonder's song "Why Didn't You Stay" and it got me thinking about today's topic. So let's talk about Summertime. More specifically the breakups, love affairs, and flings that happen in the Summer. F.Y.I. this post is pretty much going to be me going off on a mini tangent about love and relationships so if that's not what you're in the mood for this evening I sincerely apologize.
Moving on.... I'm curious. Why do so many relationships begin and end in the Summer? Is it the heat or the sun rays that draw people in? Why do they fizzle out? Is it the half naked-ness and the casual dates? Is everybody looking for a short-term summer romance? Is it a lost cause to believe a summer romance can last? What is it?
When I was much younger I remember I always looked forward to the summer because it meant no matter how lonely the year had been I'd always seemed to "fall in love" by June. The hardest part was dealing with the fact that by Late August/Early September I'd already had visions of keying up my lover's vehicle or scratching the words "you said you'd never leave" with my mail key in his candy painted siding. (whoa did I just go there? I think I did.) Don't judge me. You guys know like I know (and I know you do) when a love affair burns hot and fast it can end pretty ugly. But why does this happen so frequently in the Summer? Is it distance? Because let's face it, lots of the time a relationship starts because you're visiting some place and you randomly meet the person of your dreams only to find out they live 4000 miles away. Ugh, the story of my life...
According to Tina Kells, "The Love Lady" The problem with keeping a summer romance alive rarely has anything to do with the distance between two people and much more to do with adjusting to fitting this new person in to your regular routine. Lots of summer lovers find that once they are back in the swing of their regular life they lose touch with the magic that made the summer affair seem so special. This is not to say that summer love isn't real or that summer romance can't survive through the fall, it just means that keeping summer romance real has some special challenges.
Tina goes on to offer up a few questions to think about and discuss should you find yourself in middle of a summer romance. Check it out! Ask yourself... (him/her)
Will this guy fit in with your friends?
Will this guy even like your friends?
When you talk about your interests are they similar?
Do you normally have a busy schedule that would get in the way of seeing him?
Do you have the means (money, a job, a bus pass, a friend with a car) necessary to get to him and spend time with him?
Do you have a relationship (back home) that you will have to end in order to keep this relationship?
If you had met this guy on different terms or at a different time (instead of on vacation) would you have even started seeing him?
Ask him (or her as the case may be)...
Does he have a serious relationship or did he recently end a relationship before the summer?
Would he have to end a relationship in order to continue dating you? If so, would he even be willing to do that?
Does he think that you would fit in with his friends?
Is he willing to make the trip to see you and does he have the means (see above) necessary to do so?
Is there any reason he can think of that your summer romance can't become a steady thing?
She goes on to say. When you ask these questions be prepared for answers you may not like. Be prepared for your summer romance to tell you that they aren't interested in making things long term or that they think the distance is much too far. As a general rule in life, never ask a question unless you are prepared to handle all of the possible answers. Once you have addressed all these issues and are both committed to staying together the sky is the limit! Afterall, nobody ever said that true love can't be found in a summer fling.
Well stated Tina. I'm going to keep researching this topic but while I'm busy with decoding the mysteries of summer romance....
Check out this beautiful poem by Rudy Francisco called "Love Poem" Let's Elevate?
I read this story on a blog by Paul Barker. It discussed how some of us out there find ourselves in abusive relationships. How in public the abusers seem like ideal mates but behind closed doors they are monsters. Since I've never really touched on domestic violence in relationships here I figured now is a better time than any. It true sometimes Love can hurt, but it should never hurt because your spouse, mate, current flame, or whatever you call that extra person in your life is physically or emotionally tearing you down. NO ONE has the right to put their hands on you for ANY reason. No one has a right to make you feel less than the beautiful person you are. If you're in a relationship that is toxic, I urge you to get out NOW. Don't kid yourself into thinking it will change if you change certain things about you or your situation with them. It will not get better and no the person isn't going to change. You have no control over the way they behave. You can only control yourself. Please, love yourself enough to realize you deserve better. Okay, now that I'm done with my public service announcement... please check this out.
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973), whose real name is Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto, was born on 12 July, 1904, in the town of Parral in Chile. He went on to be a wonderful Chilean poet and politician.
