Time

Let go of the past...(sometimes).

The Future is Nigh,

But the Present is already Here.


December's motto: Forgiveness
© shellyhu

Confession.

In need of a creative outlet - this is the spot I chose.

I thank God for the snippets of creative inspiration I receive every now and then. I'm no longer basking in it, but I much prefer sun on a cold day than no sun at all.

Praying for a lot of things right now; most of all the opportunity to do 'nothing' and grow. To not feel I have a checklist to follow in order to do right, instead to be guided from a distance and know that my roots are being nurtured and my shoots tended to. Creatively and Spiritually I'm attempting to escape my own black hole...I'm positive enough to envision light at the end of this tunnel.

Through it all I'm letting go of expectations...not all at once, just day by day.

November's motto: Loving n Growing.

In Memory Of

Tears flow freely as I struggle to recall your face
Your aging brown skin; glimpses of the Caribbean amongst your wrinkles
You were robust and homely, your embrace as inviting as the smells from your kitchen
Home cooked meals were your speciality.

I miss you, Nana.
Too young to know how truly blessed I was.
Your passing was five years ago and I grieve as if it were today.

As an adult I am unable to share so much of myself with you
I cannot tell you about the day He polished my spirit clean
I cannot ask what kept you praising His name during your darkest days,
For you are no longer here.

I miss the sound of your voice, Nana
I miss the gap in-between your teeth when you smiled.

If I could spend one day in Brixton Market with you, I would
To watch you size up the produce, as if you were valuing precious stones;
Your red and blue striped trolley I would wheel proudly.

You were strong, Nana.
And though you gave birth to my father, I see your reflection in my mother.
You were firm, Nana. But you doted on us.

Can we play the untuned piano again some day?
Can I help you place cherries on your almond cake again some day?
Can I share a pillow with you at night again some day?

I miss you Nana, and it hurts.
You are a vessel of love my children will never know.
© shellyhu

Growth

To measure you inch by inch
To see your presence at every step
Only then will she acknowledge your worth.

The pain may not seem so painful.
The struggle may seem bearable
If she could note down every dent, every bruise
Tally them up, one by one
Only then will she acknowledge your worth.

The steady rise, like night to day, is too abstract.
So she yearns for the moment-to-moment record,
Labelling, chartering and cross-referencing;
An architect's blueprint for her life.
Only then can she acknowledge your worth.

She finds no comfort in reflecting,
Her impatience is her downfall.
© shellyhu

'Women are Heroes' - JR Photography.

I am a late-comer to the wonders of JR.
Better late than never...

(copyright/ownership: © JR - credits : BasilicStudio // aKkY)

Be inspired: http://jr-art.net/

Black Mona Lisa

I am not afraid to be a lone bohemian,

I can paint a portrait of myself.

~Lamya

My Redeemer Lives

Without Faith, I would drown.

Re-birth

Is this my rebirth?

I do not know.
Can a re-birth take place three times over.
Or would this be a re-re-re-birth; the beginnings of a broken record.
Do I have anything new to say. New to add.
And will my ink jots change the world?
Is that my intention though.
Can a writer just write?
A poet just recite?
For the sake of it.
What would be the purpose.

For without purpose, can we truly call it Art?

© shellyhu

untitled

Before the outpouring of love, he spoke to her


During the outpouring of love, he spoke to her.


Afterward, he had nothing left to say.
© shellyhu

Words.

Your words brought back the passion for mine.

Passion that I was more than happy to note down as mere memories.

Memories that I would dust off every once in a while and reflect.

Reflect on the pen to paper; pencil sometimes. Late nights, thesaurus in hand, moonlit by the glare from my computer screen.

My computer that holds so much of me. I had tricked myself into believing I did not care.

Honesty, finally got the best of me.
© shellyhu