Ode to a Neglected New Shoe

You are....

Proud, elegant, statuesque
Designed with me in mind
Unspoilt
Your spike heel gives the illusion of exquisite fragility
But it is unassumingly strong
Powerful, lifting me up
Empowering me with height

Cushioned for comfort
Intimidating appearance disguising soothing snugness
Sling back, strapping me in for a safe journey
Solid base, effortless stability
Your steep arch reflecting the curve of a woman's back
All black matt but still shining
Silver studs reflecting light with a ferocious glare
Demanding attention and daring any other shoe to match your sass

You upgrade wardrobes
No everyday shoe
Not suitable for the daily battles with the pavement
You require a stage
You provide your own platform
Wearing you is a performance
The fierce warrior stance you provide makes you the essential element of my impenetrable style armour

Strutting in you is like issuing a challenge
You tranform me into an amazonian
A gladiator
A dominatrix
Forget ruby slippers
When I slip my feet into you I can conquer and seize any place as my home

But for all your glamour and enchantment
Regardless of how enamoured I am
Despite my deep desire to flaunt you to the world
You remain entombed in your box
Imprisoned in darkness
Unworn and unable to fulfill your life's purpose

Occasionally I tenderly unwrap you from the beige tissue paper that enshrines you
Holding you up with admiration, drifting my fingers across your deliciously soft skin
I carefully place my feet in your firm grip
And sashay down the hallway

But when time arrives too soon as always
My schedule requires me to adorn warm, flat bottomed boots
Or common place, brightly decorated but mundanely gripped kicks
The world I must enter on a daily basis has no place for a warrior heel
Too many cracks and gaps to skip over

Fancy footwear is a luxury that hard work does not understand
Sexy shoes won't pay my bills
(In my profession of choice at least)
I'm fighting the good fight, hustling real hard
My inner glamour girl must give way to humility
I cannot allow myself to stand aloof, lifted on spikes above the dirt ground
I must be dirtied, and plough through to sew seeds and reap harvests

And so
I'm afraid
My poor neglected shoe
Mama
Just ain't
Had time for you....

Rocky roads....

I have always been my own rock
Not polished, or statuesque, not glimmering with precious stones or metallic residue
But steadfast and enduring and solid

I have braved waves of emotion, constant battering from angry vicious winds
I have born the weight of others
I have suffered the hacking and picking and steady accumulation of fear, of doubt, of despair
I have maintained my structure and integrity through avalanches

My own character has been chiselled from this rock
Morals moulded, opinions hammered
I have scratched my direction and continually sanded away at my flaws

But this rock is crumbling

Slowly, certainly, falling apart
Leaving the steel rod that forms my backbone exposed and vulnerable
The bright, strong, gleaming iron is gradually rusting
The everyday oxidation and toxication of life is corroding it's power
Jeopardising my ability to stand tall and keep my head up

This structure has withstood wobbles and tremors and shakes
But never before has it been this close to utter collapse
I have manifested and perfected this rock for so long
It has become more than a strength of character or a coping mechanism
It has become my definition

So now...
I need a new rock

Brighton rock with my name written through your core
Sweet and jaw breakingly solid
A rock of ages to see me through all stages and phases and put up with my incessent bullshit

Caringly carved from solid marble, practically perfect
Smooth, secure, my stronghold
Broad shoulders, firm grip, grounded feet, unshakeable

More than a pebble, I need you to be my unpenetrable mountain
My fortress without the associated solitude, just me and you
Your gravelly voice reducing the attacks of the world to rubble

My beautiful gargoyle, unchanging and undefeatable
The cornerstone and foundation of my world
That's not much for a girl to ask for...is it?

And in return?

I will be every metaphor, analogy, emblem, similie and cliche you could ever need

I'll be your partner in crime, your eternal flame , your comforter, your best friend
Your commrade in arms, your provider, your night nurse, the light at the end of all your tunnels
I'll be your muse, the mother of your seed and of your inspiration, your die hard fan
Your homegirl, your secret little freak, your breath of fresh air, your band aid

I'll be all the cake your hidden fat kid could ever need, your favourite pair of jeans and your darkest fantasy
I'll be the rhythm your heart beats to, the song your soul sings, your great escape

And when you've helped rebuild me
I'll be your rock too

Attached by Strings

I heard someone say 'Even the finest instruments are mute without strings'
And I thought...
'What about wind instruments'?
They are just full of holes.

But when I connected with you, I was left feeling mute
Said you liked my physical properties
The way I had been crafted, designed with music in mind
Rhythmical, more than ornamental, moving to my own beat

The build up was lengthy, innocent and proper
Interaction started as professional, became friendly then flirty and full of promise
Vocal and textual harmonies were made
You liked the sound of my voice, I liked what you felt inspired to say


Pictures of potential were a slideshow in my mind
Replays of our conversation providing the soundtrack
And when promises were fulfilled and you professed a desire to be my accompaniment
A decision was made not to overthink, just follow the music and go with the flow

And the flow took us to a place where innocence could no longer follow
Neither could sense or reason...just feeling
I lost my words and found my scream
The whole world was humming at the same pitch


The song was enduring but could not be endless
There was no sheet music to guide what happened next
This was a genre and style who's technique I had yet to learn
I rediscovered my words, but could not find their meaning

I let you play me, no strings attached......
Even the finest instruments are mute without strings

15 Lines of Frustration

Words
On the page
Written to persuade
My mind to release
It's creative rage

Genuine prose eludes me
Currently
I have the option of
'Prentension' or 'Whimsy'
Neither of which suit me

So for now
I bow down
To the cat that's got my tongue
But I vow
That this silence will be temporary

Dinner Date

I have this rule you see, a rule i really try to keep
Developed through repetitions of pathetic scenarios, occuring so frequently they are simply tragically un-unique

Pathetic experiences which through some cruel twist commonly prove me a fool
In the grip of desperation and seeking to avoid humiliation I have created this rule:

NO GIVING OUT MY NUMBER ON PUBLIC TRANSPORT!

Now I really had plans for, abiding by my own law, unfortunately TFL conspired to seal my fate
This fella was 6'4, tube swayed he caught me mid fall, I just couldn't say no when he requested a dinner date

My weakness for tall men and free food, combined with the slick quick wit of this dude, made my fall from my rule inevitable

He was a.....rough diamond, do anything he said like he was called Simon, I could tell he was more than a little bit road, but I thought I could upgrade him, he could be my new assignment

And that night...He looked edible, not that sweet boy sugary scene, no e numbers in his alphabet, he was neither sickly nor was he saccharine

He was savoury, and I could tell from his look he wanted to savour me Slow digest, sip not slurp, breathe in my aura and taste flavours fully

He said 'beautiful order whatever you like, your figures right, swaggers tight, I'm proud to be with you tonight, I wanna feed your body soul and mind, n wana watch this food slip thru your lips n straight to the hips n I know them hips don't lie!'

Course after course, cuz you know I'm not a picky salad girl, I'm a fluffy girl, can't get enough and the entree alone mixed with his teasing conversation really kina rocked my world

We started out with drinks, still slightly awkward but sweet and dizzying and new, my appetite for food was overtaken by my hunger to know him
Over starters we covered fathers, mothers, siblings, favourite colours, I was told as a child not to rush my food but I wanted to devour him
By the main course we got deep and delved into dreams, discussed the various people who had scarred us, he had me thinking maybe it could be just us, maybe I could be full up
By dessert it was long lingering stares, he satisfied my lust for sweetness with mischievous jokes and tantalising charm...you know what they say, little of something bad is often good for you

I giggled and blushed and licked my lips, raised my wine hazed heavy lidded eyes to meet his gaze
Deep brown intense unfazed, his dizzying look made me sure he knew what I craved

His lips parted, succulent and moist, sending signals to my brain
Synapses firing, pupils dilating, skin tingling as I anticipated what he might say..............


 

'Nahhh but hear this tho babe,like mans saying jsa don't drop till weds....what have you got p for this yh!?'

 

I have this rule you see....

I Gave Him My Music

More tube musings....


Worse than giving him my heart....I gave him my music

I could have gone wading knee deep in love, got caught up with heart flutterings, given into the belly butterflies and the sweet words and mutterings.
Instead I took time, laid back style, wanted to foster a true connection, appreciate his philosophy, learn his dreams before handing over my affection.
 On a plate....

The conversation was a deep crimson red, charged and alive, banter flowed like an electrical current, sparked by passionate curiosity and a delightful ignorance of each other.
Musical exploration was our sex text talk, sharing that which we felt was spiritual, secretly whispering lyrics which represented our minds and captivated our souls.

We were guided through each others perspectives, motives and prerogatives by basslines and metronomes, we explored hopes, dreams and plans to word play and crescendos, progressing from adagio to allegro and drifting into a nocturne.
From a capella to harmony, we hit that falsetto....

And not just that Boom Boom Pow way or that Freak Me, Sex Is On Fire, Let's Get It On, Oochie Wally type musical connection...this was some Do You Feel Me, Pass Me Over, Honey Molasses type bond mixed with summa that Untitled ish.

I gave him my lovers rock, my soulful house, my neo soul, my slow jams, my new jack swing, my classical, my indie, my motown, my hip hop, my jazz, my bashment. All the pieces to the puzzle of my fragmented persona.

I even almost gave him the Unthinkable
But when it came to that moment in honesty and someone had to take the lead that night, I did sit right there and tell him all that came to me....and concluded that if I did the unthinkable it WOULD make me look crazy.

When I saw his true colours shining through, I realised they did not match my palette and could not fit with my spectrum
We neither complimented nor co-ordinated, his hue clashed with mine. I excused and 'pooh poohed' and consistently refused, to acknowledge our colour schemes could not blend, but the inevitable was undeniable. I was Living My life Like It's Golden, he was goin on Shady and his real self would not stand up. So I was left with the Aftermath.


I have no bitter words for him, no regrets, no anymosity.....I only wish I hadn't given him the music.

Miss CS x

Tube Musings...

Its been even more than a hot minute (hot few months...or cold, depending where you are), but I'm back! Just going to post up a couple of pieces that came to my mind on various tube journeys.....

Read, enjoy, comment, etc :)



You are consistently confusing

You confuse me consistently

Consistently I am confused

Confused all the time

Could it be

Should it be

Would you be

Mine?


My bafflement causes me to create new words to describe

The plethora of information I feel I am missing

The ifs, what's, buts and how's fill my mind

Alongside hmming n ahhing and hoping and wishing

I take charge of the situation, rush decisively to action

I will master this, control my wish, command this attraction

I feel focused, I understand your mind, know whats on your dome

I clock your motivations, I know my safe route home




But slowly, slowly, doubt fills my head toxically

It smothers and suffocates and I realise that paradoxically

What's most bittersweet is you're just a dream I've created

Nothing more than fantasy, nothing strong, nothing fated

You're an amalgamation of all the things I want my man to be

So the reason for my confusion, really....is me


You are consistently confusing

You confuse me consistently

Consistently I am confused

Confused all the time

Could it be

Should it be

Would you be

Mine?


Miss CS x

I See The God In You....

So it's been a hot minute....prioritising time for this blog has been less straight forward than I thought it would be! I'm really enjoying the process of attempting to verbalise and express my thoughts though, and I hope y'all are enjoying reading them.


This next one is just something quick and off the top of my head, it's not meant to be some great literary piece, I just wanted to have a go at articulating my thoughts on a certain matter and share how I see things. It is most definitely not intended to offend, to pass judgement or to suggest that other people should share my view - so I hope its taken in the spirit it is intended!



I see the God in You.....

I see god in the curiosity, kindness, enjoyment and acceptance that is so often found in children and so often lost in adults

I do not see god in systems that serve to divide people or that take advantage of our biological tendency to indulge in prejudice
I see god in the man who offers his seat up to a woman and her child on the tube. I do not see god in the man who is too engrossed in his holy book to notice the pregnant woman swaying, stumbling and falling.

I see god in thought provoking lyrics, in the proud barrruuuummppp of trumpets, in the insistent twang of the bass, in the crash of the hi-hat and the playful piano melody.

I see god in strong families and friends, in accepting people for what they are and sticking together through hard times

I do not see god in systems where people profit financially from the hope and faith of others

I do not see god when religion is used as a vehicle for oppression, as an excuse for barbaric practices, as a means to keep people docile and controlled.

I see god in tears, in pain, in knowing that we have an enduring, overwhelming, indescribable ability to care.

I do not see god in judgement, hypocrisy, gossip and 'holier than thou'-ness

I see god in resilience, in hope, in people's ability to overcome

I see god in our desire to make the world a better place

I see god in freedom of expression
I do not see god in ignorance, in fear manifested as omnipotence, as misinterpretations of good intentions

I see god in the fullness of the moon, of the feeling that you are never really alone

I see god in the people who made me who I am, and the people who continue to shape me, mould me and maintain me

I see the god in you....





Miss CS x

Muchos Gracias...

Why Thank you!

Just a quick message to say a big thank you for all the feedback I've been getting from people- and even more so for all the love for this blog. Its a pleasant surprise for real! I'm so so pleased to know that people have found it amusing, engaging and some even inspiring. Also taking on board some of the constructive criticisms....I really appreciate those of you who took time to give me your analysis and hopefully you'll see this blog develop over time!

Next post will follow shortly, till then stay blessed

Miss CS x

Secretly Poetic...

I'm a poet. And I know it. But no-one else does....

It's like there is a seed inside of me. A wonderful, beautiful, decadent seed, so full of promise and potential. This seed is planted in fertile ground, it has impregnated my mind. It is nourished with knowledge and erudition, it is watered with liquid inspiration, it has thick strong roots twisted around philosophical musings, romantic disillusions and the stuff that dreams are made of.

This seed has sprouted. It has set down roots in the depths of my very being, like a parasitic plant living off of my soul. It has grown, developed, matured, it has staked its claim and it is here to stay. Its sinewy tendrils creep into my finger tips, winding themselves around and prompting partially poetic outbursts on the page. These shoots slide silkily over my lips, resting on the tip of my tongue where they refuse to disperse. Teasing, taunting, flirting. Sweet but somehow bitter, never gratifying with the lyrical, spiritual, verbal expression they could so easily surrender to me.

My seed is so resilient, so strong; it has lasted through years of silence, neglect and denial. The seed allowed itself to shrivel, its roots to become knarled and withdrawn....but still it remained.

Whispering....

'Feed me, nourish me, love me'

It whined and whimpered and wheedled its way around my assertions, my indignation and my downright refusal to accept that the seed was truly meant for me. It made honey sweet promises tinged with hope and endless possibilities, luring me in, seducing me with its rhythmical, sensual, graceful prose. It gave me images of the greats, those others who had been blessed by the spark, the ability to commune, and pledged to make me like them. This seed showed me what I could be, and I simply could not resist - powerless, captive, subjecting myself to its will.


 But why won't this seed grow?

 Why will it not allow itself to see the light....to let the light see it?

To branch out, to make its mark - its irrefutable stamp of beauty and self expression. To shape itself into things that look familiar to others, that shock and scare, to reflect the world and dazzle people with its exquisite splendour. Why will it not grow majestic green leaves, flaunting the way it photosynthesises the truth and makes the mundane appear exotic? To bear the fruits of its labour, to reap the glory of all that has been sown and harvest its wisdom. Why will it not spread itself on the wind, touching new minds, setting down new roots, blessing us with the power to articulate, orate and communicate in a divine and potent manner?

Maybe I am simply not ready for the wonders that the seed can endow, or maybe it has not yet soaked in the knowledge it needs to thrive. But for now, me and my poetic seed are at war, it refuses to die, but will not let me express it. And so I remain....secretly poetic.

Miss CS x

Confessions of a Neo-Soul Addict.....

I think neo-soul may have addled my brain. No, seriously, real talk. Ok bear with me.....

I listen to A LOT of music that generally fits within the 'neo soul' genre. Those of you that know me, or recognise the origin of 'honey molasses' or 'miss complex simplicity' will not be surprised by this. I love it. I love it because it is positive music, it is reflective music, it is SOUL music. I love it because I feel it and because it feels me. It makes me smile, its conducive to thoughtfulness, it baffles me, it teases me, sometimes it eludes me. It feeds me, it fuels me, it caresses me, it picks me up, it cradles me, it nourishes me. I love it because sometimes I see myself within it - and the reflection looks good!

BUT....I'm beginning to think that I may listen to too much of it. When I listen to neo soul it helps me to see the best in the world, those 'stop and smell the roses' moments that are so hard to come by in hectic London life. It rose tints things, it prompts me to smile at people, to express myself, to take chances.....it makes me want to love.

I guess so far I'm not doing a good job of highlighting why this addiction may be unhealthy....so let me get to the meat of it. The process of listening to neo soul also presents me with a set of ideals, it informs the way I want my life to look....the way I want to act, the friendships I want to have, the relationships I want to experience.....essentially it helps to develop my expectations.

***** This feels like a good moment to make a necessary disclaimer.....I'm not seriously suggesting I live my life by the code of neo-soul, and that this alone dictates how I live my life......other music affects me too! I joke, I kid *****

Anyway. Now I don't think these are a bad set of expectations to hold - but I am starting to wonder whether they are realistic. Will I ever have a conversation about shell top adidas and cumulus clouds that lives up to the beauty depicted by Jill Scott? Will anyone be my 'Supastar'? Will a beautiful man in a flat-cap ever say anything like the following to me and mean it....

I just want you to know, your whole being is beautiful
Ima do the best that I can do, cuz I'm my best when I'm with you

I just wana nurture it, though this love may hurt a bit,
We dealing with this water love, you even get my daughter love
I wanna build a tribe with you....protect and provide for you
Truth is I can't hide from you, the pimp in me may have to die with you

I fear this is not the case. Am I developing a set of expectations that makes the reality of everyday life feel grey and dismal, that makes my interactions bleak and meaningless, that makes sweet words just not sound deep enough?

Of course actually, its probably just the case that I decide to pay more attention to the positive, beautiful, deep bits, than to the difficult consequences apparent in 'Been In Love' - Phonte & Eric Roberson or the dysfunction seen in 'Hypothetically' - Lyfe Jennings feat Fantasia or the desperate outlook painted by Meshell Ndegeocello in 'Bitterly'.

I'm officially apologise to neo-soul......its not you....its me. But I think I'll still let you cloud my reality sometimes - its prettier that way.

Although on a serious note, what started as a trivial blog post has led me to think about a slightly more intellectual topic - how much does the music we listen to affect our actions and our expectations of life?

Anyway, it feels appropriate to end with a Marsha Ambrosius hook.....

'Music is for life'

Miss CS x

The Intro....

So I've been thinking about doing this for a while, and found myself turning into one of those people who continually talk about what they're planning on doing.....and never do it! So here goes....

This blog is essentially just a testing spot/pilot/trial/ place to practice writing/ dumping ground for my thoughts! The plan is that at some point people will read this....and give me feedback (good and bad please), but also that I'll just get into the habit of writing, and learn to verbalise some of the nonsense that occurs inside my cranium. I'll just be blogging about everyday things that I care about....music, food, politics, work, fashion, things that get me vexated, things that make me giggle etc.....and direly hope other people will find it interesting! :)

I'll also be setting up a rather more specific blog about all things food related soon - so if you like cooking, eating or talking about food please check it out!

First proper post will follow shortly...

Miss CS x