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Preview: LYRICALLY I AM YOURS

LYRICALLY I AM YOURS



Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together



Updated: 2017-07-05T23:54:20.461-07:00

 



10 Comments

2012-01-14T20:34:02.855-08:00

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Keep on reading
Keep on writing
Keep on inspiring
Keep on dreaming
Then...
Wake up from your dream
To make it happen
Stuff your brain with fresh positive food
Keep on creating
Over
and
Over
and
Over



1 Comments

2011-11-28T11:47:06.342-08:00

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I know I am not forgotten for I've been blessed over and over with a better health, good friends and laughter that keeps me going on a daily basis. Not to mention my art and poetry. I'm not able to stop drawing, painting and get very excited when I see colors. I love the blend of colors on canvas or in journals. I am loving life without complaint or negativity. Why have negativity when you can enjoy the simplest things in life?

By the way, if you're interested in purchasing some art, check out my art blog:



4 Comments

2011-10-27T22:06:03.614-07:00

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My latest work of art, I give you "Organic Love". You can fit earrings or rings in there and it's made with moss on bottom. Very cute :) Have a goodnight, will be in creative boost again tomorrow.



4 Comments

2011-10-25T12:22:57.431-07:00

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I need to get back to my roots with painting and writing. Rewind and move forward is the best medicine for the soul. I also want to share with others and to remind myself that although I've tripped and fallen, it's ok to get up slowly and dust off the negativity in my life. So, here I am again, to share with you all. I miss blogging and I miss a lot of things that used to excite me. I've decided to look back and start over. Now I found myself smiling and feeling the sunrays on my face.



4 Comments

2011-08-25T08:14:00.514-07:00

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Her visual was flawless
She was every little girl’s dream
But I didn’t understand why she couldn’t be fed
Her stiffness was a mystery
I needed to hear how she felt
What she felt
She was too skinny
So with a needle I slashed open her lips
She was finally free
I stuffed some rice and beans inside her mouth
Her head grew bigger with all that food
She was no longer a beautiful Barbie
At least I can feed her




6 Comments

2011-07-01T18:22:21.667-07:00

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Hello blogger friends,
I know it's been ages. It's wonderful to see you around inspiring us with your art and poetry, although I am aware that most of you are in Facebook. If you'd like to keep in touch that way please send me your name in Facebook where I often post my poems and art. Thanks for the inspiration and I've posted below my latest art and poetry for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy!


Naked Aggression

It is a struggle
To try to ignore those words
To stuff them in her closet for another decade
She is followed by this aggression
Emotions attached to her spine like summer
She is meant to embrace them intentionally
Her secret sword is her heart
Connected to his loins
Where she is guaranteed a soft spot
He is historically accurate
By her mass weapon
This naked aggression of love hangs between her thighs
Without explanation
She summarize her naked aggression
In silence
(c)2011 by Cathy Delaleu



4 Comments

2010-11-05T19:53:47.482-07:00

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Bruised Addiction

Dark
Shadow carved by swollen fingers
There must be a reason why his arrogance is a steady blade
A punctured wound to the spine
His dramas are memorized sweetly
Dents in my jaw line
I have rear-ended my heart to him
The perfect cartilage of a man
In my bruised eyes
He can do no wrong
No matter how hurtful
His words hold me hostage

I claim he is my cosmic warrior
Skips and hops all over my field of dreams
Traditional with the profanity of his lips

Yet I see divinity
I see longevity
I see dignity
I don’t look in the mirror
Afraid to view the lies
To feel the stings
The cuts from this King
My King

By the end of the day
We are “one”
I will come up with a name
Suitable to place on his bumper sticker
Maybe written “athletic hero” or “King Mufasa”
His blistering heat leaves me with serious sunburns
He was taught the way to a woman’s heart is with the use of his fist
I changed my status to “abused female”
My silent cry to family and friends
Afraid to let his own mother know
My funeral has come and gone
Her son is a serial killer
I’m his daily cold case
He wraps around my throat emotionally
Leaving me for dead
With controversial kisses
As angry as a powerful storm tonguing me to the ground
He wants me to remain there
With all his debris
Waxed on my flesh
Repeatedly with symptoms
Addicted to the way
He loves me
He loves me
He loves me
Not
© 2010 by Cathy Delaleu



5 Comments

2010-06-13T22:06:28.668-07:00

(image) My thoughts in my daily journal

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Hope you all had a great weekend. The heat in AZ is to die for, literally. I stay in most of the weekends unless I need to go food shopping or head to the librairy. Yeah, I know, you're probably thinking "the boring life", but that's what I call relaxation.
First let me give you an update, i'm sure you're dieing to know what's been going on with me. I've been apartment searching, to me that's always fun, apartments here are so cheap and you get a lot for your money, my lease will be up in 3 months so I can't wait to fly high to a bigger and better place to call home.
On Saturday, she went to work until 4pm and I was at her place watching movies and chilling with her daughter, when she got home she suggested we go for a stroll in Prospect Park and we also stopped by the Brooklyn Librairy which is nearby. It was a hot day but it felt great being out feeling the nice breeze at the park and many people were barbequeing. I took some pics with my new digital camera but I have to figure out how to download them to my blog.

Moving is alwways a lot of work but i'm anticipating it with joy and excitement. Lately, I've been writing a lot of new poems and have been interviewed on Blogtalkradio.com about two of my upcoming books, I will keep you all posted.


My apartment right now is a matchbox, you can imagine living in a box when it's over 100 degrees outside, I do have air conditioner but it's so loud when you turn it on, and I hate noise. I shouldn't complain, cause at least I have a roof under my head :)



6 Comments

2010-04-27T22:25:56.431-07:00

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My latest work has been with the use of acrylic and watercolor, i'm trying to lean more towards mixed media to bring some excitement to my artwork, I will of course post them when i'm done...








THE TAKE OFF
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On bended knee Bocelli sings me Amore
While a plane lands on the highway
Cars speed us by blowing their congratulatory horns
His pleading words infuses a sadness
Mellow verses becomes philosophical
I am a frozen statue in a white organza
A mermaid with satin tears
The soft fabric flowing on my face gains public recognition
Paparazzi shouts out my name
I ignore the screams
The plane takes off in five minutes
I need to decide whether to board without his duet
Bocelli illustrates emotions throwing confetti rose petals
on my chapel length train
The 405 south consist of several traffic jams
“You won’t be back,” he yells
So I answer, “How deep is your devotion to me?”
He doesn’t reply
No point in telling him it’s too late
I march down the First Class aisle
Bouquet of black tulips kissing my hands
Amore
Amore is left standing
I watch from my window seat
the congested crowd follows him to Sicily
I get carried to another proposal
©2010 by Cathy Delaleu



6 Comments

2010-04-18T11:25:54.436-07:00

Hello Blogger World...





I haven't written a Gratitude list in a long time, so here goes:

Grateful for:

1. PASSION…God instilled passion in all of us and we’re the ones who decide whether we’ll share it with others or not, I chose to share :o) it’s a beautiful thing when you're passionate about life

2. LAUGHTER…I've had those moments in my life where I felt the sadness will never end, but conversations with my sister on the phone, she always seems to find a way to make me bubble with laughter, also my brother, it's therapeutic chatting with him and with friends

3. BURGER: Believe it or not, I haven't had a burger in 3 years, so I treated myself to In n Out Burger, I had the cheeseburge with grilled onions, it felt like a dream when I took a bite of it...before you know it, it disappeared off my hands.

4. PAINTING…I took a long break, got inspired to start over and I am enjoying it, I forgot though how expensive it could get when you purchase all these supplies. I did have a lot of leftover paint in my closet but some had to be re-stocked

5. BIRDS: They wake me every morning, I love the sound of nature, puts a smile on my face

6. PARIS: My blogger friend, Paris Parfait, for having the ability to take me to Paris whenever I stop by her world…seriously if you check out her blog you’ll be amazed at her European pictures. She has a great eye for photography; her treasured blog is worth browsing (http://parisparfait.typepad.com/)



EXPERIMENTATION(image)



She will only show you what she’s willing to tell
Every part of her shell is a segment of confessional intimacy
The spool thread of her eyes is a meditative mist
Of secrets passed between solitude and separation
She is a diaphanous frame of special circumstances
A glass lantern of icicle tears
Don’t make attempts to love her
She can’t promise you her heart
It’s hard to lie on
Easy to use
Impossible to clean
© 2010 by Cathy Delaleu



1 Comments

2010-04-05T13:16:02.403-07:00

I was asleep on a dirt road until a warm wind greeted me on the cheek
The wind was heard chanting my name in Creole
“Wake up,” a voice said
I rubbed my eyes, yawned
My throat felt dry, lacking liquid
Tongue tasted like chalk
I looked around; palm trees were staring down at me curiously
The moonlight had its back turned, barely offering any shadows
Fireflies quietly were glowing their confessions
I could hear crickets like a serenading chorus
My long legs were caked by dust and dirt; my toes were painted in fluorescent green
“Where am I?” I asked the wind
“You’ve been asleep for seven years, you’re home”
I slept for so long I wasn’t tired
This burst of energy gave me the urge to twirl around and shout out my name
But there was silence, like death it gave me goose bumps
Then footsteps were heard, shaking the earth
It sounded like a whole village was hunting for me in the dark
“Here she is,” a heavy-bellied woman in a black scarf said, feasting her eyes at me
“She looks different,” a lean and tall man mumbled, he had missing teeth
“America made her weak,” another woman observed
“You’re old enough to join us now in the river,” the woman in the black scarf let out
“What river?” I asked
She pulled me by the arm, “Let’s go.”
I followed them
We were marching like soldiers
My legs strong enough to run if I had to
It felt like a century had gone by, and we were still walking
We wandered many villages, no one stopped to look at us
How strange, only the dogs, cats, chickens, pigs and donkeys reacted to our presence
When we finally arrived at the river, my hair had turned gray
throat was no longer dry
I touched my face and it was pleated with wrinkles
To my surprise men and women were in the river bathing in their clothes
All wore black
cheering and dancing fervently in the water like children
There was a full moon in the sky and drums vibrated in the air
“What are you waiting for? Get in the water,” one woman shouted at me
I dipped my big toe in
immediately felt the frigidness
With a grimace and curled lips I stepped back
The river was asking me riddles only an elder can answer but I declined
Suddenly, the big-bellied woman with the black scarf was laughing at me
Except now she was a young girl
she had to be at least eight years old
Was I hallucinating?
I rubbed my eyes for emphasis
all the men and woman in the river were kids
“Get in the water,” a voice shouted behind me
I turned around and it was a young boy wearing a black tattered shirt with a pipe in his mouth
“No,” I yelled back
He pushed me
I fell backwards with a scream
Body splashed in the iced cold water
I was shaking, panicking and cursing the boy out
Everyone had stopped dancing
they froze, watching me
Waiting for a transformation to occur
But nothing happened…
Instead, I was an old woman soaked in cold water
“America aged her too fast,” said the young boy with the pipe in his mouth
(c)2010 by C. Delaleu



4 Comments

2010-03-13T14:58:25.314-08:00

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MAKE IT KNOWN
Make it known to society that poetry is the conjugation of hope
We gotta go there to spark your interest
And your parents will wonder where it came from
Did it start from infancy?
Why are you drawn to words like crack?
Your trails of verses make them nervous
They truly believe it will ruin their reputation
And their friends’ reputation
This is our healing process
We lay dreams on sheets of paper to heal the heart
Inch by inch
We go back to collect empty shells of memories
To promote
Make it known
Unapologetically who we are
Make it known we battle emotions
for a reason
Make it known
We are poets
For life
©C. Delaleu2010

It was a slow week for me, the weekend is dragging with a warm 70 degrees sun so i'm grateful...what i'm truly enjoying today is watching the Food Network and writing poetry, what more can I ask for?



5 Comments

2010-03-04T17:44:52.755-08:00

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Hello Blogworld

A lot has happened since my last post, been in and out of the hospital, writing poetry, painting and drawing. Also got myself a new laptop which is great, it's much faster and now i'll be posting more pics and more poems. Thanks to all of you, prayers were heard and I feel so blessed. More poetry and short stories will be coming your way...


I
You want romance with sweetest taboo
I can’t provide such episode with your eyes alone
Or with lyrics and beats
We can only crawl together towards reality
Create messages with words
Words bring out the sunlight and heartache
Give me your heart
I will give you a future
A future with heartache attached on a string

II

Friends warn me about men like you
They say don’t daydream of your poetic words
I pull out the tiara off my short fuzzy hair to wake up to reality
I’m too hopeless
I am a dreamer of chocolate roses
tulips and butterflies
Your smile spreads smoothly on my sheets
You don’t touch yet still I can feel you admiring me
I am your goddess

III

Here comes your moon again glowing my way
I ignore the signs
Cross the streets and avenues in my white dress
Pretend I was your meal last night
The one you digested with such ease
Then you had that last glass of Merlot
Sang loud enough for your neighbors to hear
Last night I claimed your heart as if you won me
You own me
But I don’t belong to you
I never agreed to share your table
Never agreed to give you my heart
To give you my love
I left you drunk with tears
“My goodness, how dare you?” you screamed
I walk away cause’ it’s easier not to show I care
Easier not to love
Easier to tap dance with romance with notes
@2/2010



7 Comments

2010-01-17T22:07:01.883-08:00

TWAL ZWAZO (silk bird)
(tale of a Haitian woman)

Her space
The settlement of rusted flesh
A sense of isolation
Lamentation in her accordion dream
A female ventriloquist in a state of longing
Collaboration gelled in her empty eyes
Empty heart
Empty soul
Buried climax
Head wrapped with recitation
Knotted by horsehair with fish bones
Underskinned fighting for courage
Crucified by sleep without rest
Politics urinating blood
Leave streaks of revolt
Chained by poverty
With lack of literacy
She wants to be set free
From instability
Free from coup d’etat’s whips
Free from the ruckus
Those drop spits from the elite
Their legacy migrates seasons of drought
On eye sockets nestled in pus
No water to irrigate the peasants
My ancestors descended from Jeremie
Down the tiny hill of Rozeau
The village town where women eat mud with their toes
And men pour their wounds on Haiti’s soil
You will find her there
Sheltered in her carnivorous bones soft like manioc
Hairless with her virus
She will question you with a Mardi gras smile
Who are you?
What can you do to help your our people?
Take note
Grab a tape recorder
Her story she wants to be heard
Hurry before she flies away with Diaspora wings
Before she reaches the skies with claws of her spine
There is no rainfall in her coffin
No vegetation
The rivers have dried out
The scent of bones is present
©2010 by C. Delaleu



3 Comments

2009-11-25T23:15:15.602-08:00

MORNING BIRTH

At the sight of your love
I have summoned the skies to crack open
Its windows and pour a free verse of rain
White doves flutter sweetly like the song in your eyes
I understand how it’s possible for the heart
To speak in tongues when the morning mist
Covers more than a 100000 acres of handwritten deliverance
©2009 by Cathy Delaleu(PUBLISHED IN ESSENCE MAGAZINE IN 2006)



13 Comments

2009-09-24T20:49:19.165-07:00

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The last time I fell in love was on top of a sunset
I left you in Fort Green diluting your emotions in
A jar of shea butter
You’re shirtless again
Ebony tinted skin polished with beauty
I see this magical landscape
It makes me want to die in your arms
Like Gone with the wind
I will never go hungry again
You’re the national treasure of my soul
I’m on top of your sunset
Watching you swim the modest waterways
Your name unpredictable to many
I catch your shiny star to show support
A woman who loves stands by her man no matter what the cost
Intense is this love
Your sculpture enhances an azure sky with sleeping dragons
You run fingers through my short hair
I am your dawn
Your camelback ride to paradise
Your tropical smoothie
The mineral oil that boost your unruly locks
We run together towards the sunset
You’re not afraid to stand next to me
It seems natural
Such a magical place
Remember the Good Times?
Even the moments we skipped breakfast
Our bellies full of love
No probiotic needed
Just the fragrance of guava and cocoa butter
You leave birthmarks on the sand
My name written with your footprints
You want me to practice my French
That way I call your name when the sun sets
©2009 by Cathy Delaleu

9/24/09

Today was a good day. The sun was out and I was able to go for a nature walk. I treated myself at Barnes and Nobles, bought a journal, a vegeterian cooking book and poetry book by Nikki Giovanni. I was anxious, couldn't wait to get home to digest the poetry book and to write on my new journal. Expressing my thoughts is the best remedy, especially when you're dealing with an illness. Lately, i've been writing my little heart off with many poems...can't wait to work on the next book, it's about that time. In the evening, my mother came home and I showed her the cooking book, she fell in love with it and i suggested we try a new dish. We sure did. I chose to make asparagus soup...it was delish, thick, hot and flavorful. Mom loves to cook, so it was easy to convince to try something new for the palate.



4 Comments

2009-09-21T21:10:35.090-07:00

SCARS

Check for scars
For bruises hidden beneath your thighs
Unfold the secret garden of your tongue
With east coast stories of subway rides
One metro card will lead you to a potential mate
That makes you salivate
Remember
Scars won’t disappear on their own
They’re reminders of past mistakes
Created with your heart
While you run helpless without any resources
In a stranger’s bosom
Where you expect eternal bliss
The wakeup call is usually apparent
You pretend not to notice the scars
Still lingering on your back and chest
You want them to disappear with your notepad in hand
The use of dental floss to scrape off guilt, lies, pain
Entangled with Sunday confessions
You will never heal with prayer alone
It remains to be seen
The rust you left behind in your mother’s womb
Is an investment
©2009 by Cathy Delaleu Writings



11 Comments

2009-09-05T18:26:35.223-07:00

The power of writing has many consequences. It can reveal,inspire, destroy, elevate and sometimes it can be hurtful or brutal. Like some who consider suicide and leave their mark with an emotional letter, letting their loved ones know what caused them to end their life. I feel when you have that kind of gift to move people, it means all is not lost. God granted you these lovely hands and fingers for a reason. The many challenges I had to face these past few months took a toll on my body. Yes, I did consider not to write in my blog and even allowed Mr. Writer's Block to take over. What made it worse is the ugly monster, I should say "my ugly demon" Lupus SLE (www.Lupus.org), came out of hiding again.A year ago 2008, my life completely changed when Lupus paid me a nasty visit leaving me disfigured and I lost all the self-confidence I had in me. I was doing good in NY with a great job, my own apartment and many friends. But, sometimes you get a wake-up call...so I was unrecognizable physically and mentally, forget about emotionally. I felt not even a therapist can fully understand this illness. I was diagnosed in 2007 and it's been a battle ever since. Yet, I'm blessed to wake up everyday with family and friends who show support. To understand this auto-immune disease, one must be very patient and non-judgemental. For example, people will look at you and think, "She's pretty,well, she don't act or look sick". Then, 3 months later, you're swollen all over, can't barely get out of bed and depression sets in. Your mind plays tricks on you, makes you believe no one gives a damn and you might as well die in your sleep.Lupus SLE is not an easy illness to deal with cause in order to fight it, you must be mentally strong to do so and make yourself a list on how to be ahead of it. Lupus loves stress and depression, actually most Lupus sufferers are affected with joint issues due to stress. Also, Lupus loves it when you eat the wrong type of food, dairy and wheat will eventually send a Lupus SLE candidate to the hospital. I've been there more than once. Also, it does not tolerate excessive sun or cold winters. I live in 100 degrees AZ heat and i'm still struggling, but not as bad as when I lived in NY. I was very hurt when a blogger friend told me of Nikki's passing. It's sad to hear such news, especially knowing she was so young. I'm sure sure Nikki wouldn't want us to dwell on her loss or illness. She was a great blogger, writer, feisty with her words. She would want us to remember her wonderful writing and beautiful personality. The more we do, the most we celebrate her life and her light will continue to shine. You can show your love by stopping by her blog (http://iniquitous1.blogspot.com), i'm sure her family would appreciate it. As for me, i'm taking it one day at a time with much prayer and meditation.GRATEFUL DRUMROLL1.Thankful for my mom who is a true believer of natural medicine and who is trying her hardest to make me feel better2. The pouring rain that woke me up this morning and kept me smiling3. Delicious salad I made for lunch and dinner4. Jazz music which helps relax my body and mind5. Phone call from friends who continue to show love and concernNO ANSWERSI can't tell you why we leave this earthall I know is once we doour footprints remain on the sheets we write onwe are never forgottenfamily and friends will make sure of it[...]



19 Comments

2009-07-17T15:44:38.168-07:00

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Hello all!!

It's been a wonderful, steamy summer so far
Can't stop counting the many blessings
Just got back from my busy NY trip where I held
my poetry/art show in Manhattan on 6/21/09
It was the 2nd annual Tavern of Creativity
It turned out to be very uplifting with the 9 poets
who read their work and the 3 artists who got to promote
their beautiful, unique art
Already, I am planning for next year's event
I want to thank all those who showed support and
those blogger friends I got to meet for the first time
More pics will be posted soon





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BOAT PEOPLE - English as a second language
We are all on the same boat
The same one that cradled us far far away
from our native country
On that shriveled boat we see our land
Slowly disappears out of sight
Scent of earth and seashells evaporates
We dip fingers in the cold sea water
To bring back memories shed from our flesh
As we make it to shore
Our womb screams for home
The unfamiliar swallows our feet in the sand
Cruel destiny proposed by this foreign land
This foreign language
It is not home
It will never be home
It can never be home
No orange sun in sight to kiss the mountains at night
No smell of coffee beans or fresh patties in the morning
No rooster crowing
No children in school uniforms with their bright smiles
No church bells ringing our joy on Sundays
No seduction of acoustic guitars and drums
To swing our hips until the wee hours
In this foreign land we are too old to enjoy life
Too cold for sweet kisses on the cheek
Too vulnerable to protect the young generation
We are all on that same boat
Cradling with our dreams of a better Haiti
We cradle until there’s no life left in us
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting for answers
We shall rise
Only if our dreams allow it
©2009 by Cathy Delaleu



15 Comments

2009-05-27T17:35:11.511-07:00

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Dear Diary

He glanced at me with a frown. "And what are you joyful about?"

"The sun is out and I feel no pain," I replied with a grin.

"So?"

"The flowers smiled at me, there's food in the fridge and I have no doctor appointments."

"What's the big deal?" He gave me a frustrated look.

"I'm alive and earth wants to hire me cause i'm grateful to be here."

"Then go, I have too much work to do, don't have time to be thankful for anything," he said.

Earth is hiring, apply now, he's not asking for much of your time. All he wants is for you to heal your soul with laughter, a simple smile or sweet gesture with nature, friends or family.


THE BEGINNING
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The beginning is sweet
Like the first taste of strawberry sherbet
On a hot summer day
You can’t get enough
You want more to savor the palate

The beginning is a battlefield of rain and sun
Unpredictable
He turns it into a merry-go-round with his tongue
You contemplate the possibility
Of opening your heart without bleeding
Wondering if he will be the first Knight
To rescue you out of Brooklyn with his
Mighty sword
©2009 by Cathy Delaleu



15 Comments

2009-05-22T12:54:50.624-07:00

FLOWERS and BLESSINGSHere's my question to you: HAVE YOU TAKEN THE TIME TO SMELL THE ROSES?I have. A year ago, I didn't (May 19, 2008) I was on a busted couch in Brooklyn, depressed and out of it. Not knowing if I was coming or going. I was very ill, fighting for my life or what little I had left of it. It was my birthday, which to me is like any other day, but on this particular day I really thought about what it would feel like to end it sweetly without being noticed by anyone. That's how bad it was, of course, a year prior (2007) I was diagnosed with Lupus SLE, so I know a lot of what I was feeling was due to the meds including steroids, stress and uncertainty of life. Today, I look back with a lot to be thankful for. My gratitude list looks more like a novel. Every breath I take when I wake up in the morning feels like a newborn feeding her lungs with the pleasures of life.GRATITUDE:1. I am HERE. I may not be 100% healthy, but I look at life daily with a smile. I am given little reminders, if i'm able to walk, talk AND write, then I have nothing to complain about, well, unless i'm hungry :)2. I am appreciated and loved by many, even strangers. Someone once told me I inspire them simply because I have the ability to make them laugh3. Grateful to create poetry, i'm writing more and more and loving it!4. Grateful for a new license. I went to the DMV and got my AZ driver's license, it expires when i'm 75 years old, can you believe it? Hmmmmm, at 75, where will I be in my life? Perhaps, baking cookies with organically grown grand-mas or throwing sensual poetry on stage somewhere in front of some young hot men. I know i'll be one sexy grand-ma, no muumuus' allowed in my closet, corsets are acceptable, lol5. Grateful for good movies like the Kite Runner, it was deep, moving and magnetic6. Good food and cooking for friends, which is what I did on Monday, it felt great to give and not expect anything in return7. Flowers and seashells, my mom has the most beautiful seashells in her yard, they are huge, I can almost hear the sea whispering to me when I close my eyes8. I'll keep this list short and sweet, lastly, grateful for all my blogger friends, thank you for being supportive and pushing me to write my little heart out. I will continue to dream cause we are here to dream, not to look at the number of days we have left to live.When was the last time you held a seashell in your hand or leaned over to smell some color flowers?This is my favorite journal, I write on it daily and have kept many pictures that are dear to me of family and friends. I am sad that i'm almost finished with it, but can't wait to get me another one with more blank pages to fill.I keep many wonderful memories inside my journal, even the cover must be meaningful. It's the perfect gift you can give to yourselfPlease tell your friends and other supporters that they can listen to my first radio appearance with Urban Echoes by visiting www.blogtalkradio.com/voicesandvibes[...]



Journaling

2009-05-17T21:01:28.577-07:00

Dear Diary

I have another way I want to tell you this story
Lately, I’ve been tipsy
Drinking him in like a good chocolate martini
Literally, sipping every ounce of him
Conversations flow
He fits well like a good support bra
More like strapless
Alluring and fierce
When he walks
The ground shakes his manliness
My garden purrs with moisture
Then he makes a confession
“I love to get my hands dirty”
“What do you mean?” I look oblivious, pretend not to understand
He gets on his knees, caresses the soil with the tips of his fingers
He picks a tiny flower among the wild lilies. “This is not meant to be ignored.”
The scent of jasmine surrounds us
“I love spring along with her stories,” I sighed.
“The moon is more interesting, spring to me is like a woman who constantly breaks your heart.”
“Are you serious?”
He shrugs, “she never stays, and she runs away once you pay her a compliment.”
I close my eyes, embracing the heat from the sun. “Well, I’m here, not going anytime soon.”
He gets up. “Really? And what season are you?”
“Would you like me to be your summer?”
He smiles, teeth as white as pearls. “You’ll give me heat then bounce.”
“Not true, you will always be hot.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I can handle heat, as a gardener it’s my specialty.” He steps close to my face, much taller than me and very easy on the eyes. The sun giggles along with my thoughts.
“So, tell me, do I need protection from your heat?”
“A good sunblock would help,” I respond, giving him a strange look.
He frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m looking for your imperfections, you hide them well.”
His dark brown face is shy at first. “That is what men are supposed to do; we reveal them when we’re ready.”
A week later, we are laying on green, lush grass listening to nature’s I-tune.
He admits, “I am left with a bad tan.”
“It’s the beginning of summer, enjoy it.”
I unbuckle his mind with my words.
He runs his hands over my soft, curly fro’. “Summer, I want you to stay,” he whispers in my ears.
Yellow tiny butterflies flirt around us.

“I can’t promise, it depends on how faithful you are.”
“I am willing to take care of you; flowers will bloom all over the world. I will water you everyday of the week.” His kiss long and slow is a poetic verse.
His promise is kept until September, and then he grows cold, distant and anxious.
“I need to hibernate,” his words a menacing whiz of fall.
My heart drops, the weather becomes menopausal, kicking the birds and butterflies away.
He is distracted, not looking at me.
“You have found someone new?”
“She is my fall.” He had no shame telling me this.
“She won’t stay long,” I warned. “Or love you like I do.”
The swirl of summer’s sweetness has disappeared.
He turns away
Not looking back
I vow his winter will be as bitter as my pain
His footprints resembles ugly watermarks with high definition on my journal
Quietly, I walk away
Knowing the moon has another story to tell
©2009 by Cathy Delaleu




2012-01-14T21:44:20.779-08:00

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10 Comments

2009-04-16T17:14:42.904-07:00

I am BACK to reality...I was away for almost 3 weeks and it was all worth it. I can't begin to tell you what a blast I had between promoting my poetry book, art and also spending time with friends and family. I don't even know where to start, but gladly I'll share pics of course. One girlfriend I went to school with in Haiti, reunited after 24 years of not seeing each other. My booksigning in FloridaDelaleu all bundled up on the Q train to Manhattan...hoooorray!!My first poetry booksigning and art sale in Florida at Margate was such an eventful night, I will never forget it. It was the first time my father and his wife saw me perform on stage, including my cousins and aunt, my sister was also there and they were elated. Of course I took them by surprise with my sensual poems :) hehehehe After the show, my father came up to me to say how proud he was. This was my first performance in almost 2 years, cause as many of you know, I had a stroke last May and had to move out of NY due to my battle with lupus. But, I've gained my strenght back, both spiritually and emotionally and with the support and love of my family and close friends. Sometimes, life bites you in the butt for a reason and only for a season in order to appreciate the moments you take for granted. Mom and I at my cousin's wedding reception, it was a beautiful sunny day in Long IslandReunited with friends I went to school with in Haiti over 20 years ago, I left Haiti at 13 years old, so it's been 24 years since I last saw those girls...it was a great reunion. I didn't sleep at all. We ate at a Cuban restaurant in Manhattan and stayed there close to three hours, chatting the night away.Timesquare was a blast, I played tourist as if I've never been to NY or never lived there.[...]



16 Comments

2009-03-12T09:18:19.559-07:00

Lately, there is hunger in my thoughts. Hunger for words, not complicated ones, just the simplicity of life and true meaning of words, how they can move many mountains and even cause us to ponder on what captivates our heart and soul. Lyrically, i've been bound and must release this hunger somehow, not allowing it to simmer for too long. Therefore, I had to share them with you...and include a small appetizer of words from my dearest friend and poet, Sonia aka Aminah Love. Please take the time to read her beautiful garden of words in her blog when you get a chance. On My MindMany thoughtsEmotionsCreeping in my headThoughts of youFloatingToward meArms openHeart exposedHappiness transcendingLove encirclingThe feeling of sittingBy a warm fireplaceSnuggled up closeThe lingering scentOf your body next to mineThe smile that illuminatesThe darkest of roomsYour tendernessYour intense stareYour amazing witStill...Feel your lips on mineSweet nectarSoft -- yet firmBodies pressingNeeding . . .Fining . . .Wanting . . .See you soon.Aminah Love© 2009 Sonia RománIN THE KITCHENIt’s a banquetIt’s a feastEyes locked in one open spaceWe stand stillFeet tapping on graniteKnife as sharp as the mindEyes see beauty of colorsPink salmonGreen avocadoesBrown riceRipen tomatoesGreen parsleyWhite sweet potatoesNose smells the creation of something newSomething unfamiliar to manyFor most usually rush to fast food to tame this hungerBut I tame it with bare handsWith fingers I create magicIn the heat of the momentCilantro and garlic evaporates in thin airOnions and olive oilAll executed in a panTexture created is heartfeltEyes closedSenses are renewedOrganically made To be eaten slowlyConsciouslyWe are meant to savor this momentIn the kitchen©2009 Cathy Delaleu www.delaleuwritings.comI was tagged by Stephen Bess to name 25 who have influenced my writing. There are so many on my list, more than 25, but I had to control the urge to keep it at 25...from watching movies, listening to music, poet, reading. It's hard not to admire the various artists who have tenderly kissed my path of inspiration. Here goes...1. Sonia Sanchez2. Ben Okri3. Edwidge Danticat4. Boadiba5. Rob Bless6. Chinua Akebe7. Jill Scott (singer/poet)8. Sandra Cisneros9. Kenny Latimore (singer)10. Alice Walker11. Eric Jerome Dickey12. SekouWrites (editor/writer)13. Carol Taylor (editor/writer)14. Emeline Michel (singer)15. Black Orpheus (movie)16. Sade (singer)17. Chris Abani (writer/poet)18. Saul Williams19 Octavia Butler20. Sarah Brightman (classical singer)21. The Color Purple (movie)22. Beloved (movie)23. Eat, Drink Man Woman (movie)24. Pride and Prejudice (movie)25. Like Water for Chocolate (movie)[...]