B is for Stealing

Bed sheets breed contempt And with every moan Comes the groan Of the familiar Still, Better to be with her than with out. For when hands twine like vines We become organic. And when the sweat clears And the giggles start… We become orgasmic. And the shadow of the doubt disappears In favour of hope Because this time THIS TIME The work will be worth it. And the knowing will run past body parts and touch hearts Rise of the Ex © Tracy J H 30:04:11

I imagine strings of tousled hair lying freely on my pillow Or her pillow Or our chair I imagine cradling her as she cradles that which cradles her song that cradled her thoughts And me Lying there next to strings of tousled hair From a woman who plays with my heart As frequently as she plays her strings And I am the instrument As she is an instrument And this smile in her eyes Echoes the midnight hum of a new chord That churned within her heart That leapt up her chest And burned through her fingers I imagine kissing fingers I imagine striking a chord with navels Till the sound of the flute escapes from her lips I imagine many things as the thought passes and dances… A heart that beats 150 beats per minute A body that sings in the cool of the day A chorus of giggles that lead you to bed And strings of tousled hair Lying freely on my pillow or her pillow Or our chair The Musician April 29th, 2011 © Tracy j Hutchings

This could be called "B is for Twit [who has my number]" or "B is for Logic [and why women don't have any]" or even "B is for PHONE COMPANY [who deactivated my account to give someone else my number]" instead, i will call it 'B is for Culmination" because yesterday was i suspect, the cherry in the center of a molotov cocktail. yes... that too probably doesn't make sense. My phone called me to cuss me yesterday. Of course, the truth is, IT IS NOT MY PHONE ANYMORE! But the way i was to find out - via fiery text message and equally fiery phone call - was abominable. A few seasons ago, when the telecommunications landscape was changing here, one had to have TWO PHONES because BOTH PARTIES were being asinine towards each other. so to my trusty bmobile "me2" [a generic phone the whole country had], mom bought be a digicel which came with a free bag [yay marketing]. Now i'm a writer. i've written jingles, press ads, short stori...

Child: Mommy, where do ideas come from? Mother: Oh honey, no one knows for certain where ideas come from. But one thing we do know for certain is that once you get an idea, i mean a really REALLY GOOD idea, you is to crush it before it see the light of day. Yes, crush it. Because the minute you get a good idea every muddah arse go want to claim it as if they had any input in d damn ting. Dong to d blasted fruit vendor who sell yuh dem bananas. Watch how he go stan' up and say " yuh see. if i didn't sell she dem bananas, she wouldn't ah ha' d potassium in she brain to have any ideas". Yes. is to stamp on dem ideas like is a mud mas. cause you eh go believe d amount ah so-and-so friends yuh go lose, cause kill dem dead you was supposes to share d profits of d idea IF d idea profitable. and leh we doh go dong d road about dem people who always "find" yuh coulda "do dat so" and "fix dat so" because d so-and-so idea did come to dem ...

Exiled Stranded by the rivers of Babylon Lost For words and sin are present And they are many. Tears hardened like wax in my hand My child is dead Still, Born from yesterday, I held out hope… Like Israel’s lepers Chuckle My brothers Look how all of us are one now Ceremoniously unclean in word Indeed Shipped on the same boat to Assyria To Medes To Persia To Death! To li------ Yes, a quick toast… to lies! Before we go on But where? But… Where are the prophets? They sit in chains. Where are the priests? They waste away. So I am left to plot my own redemption. I will keep their gods at a distance And hope mine covers the nakedness I will keep their gods at a distance Though they call me one. Because while there many princes in Babylon I remain Exiled Stranded by the rivers of Babylon Lost For words, and sin are present And they are many. Penned Part of the Africant Initiative 06:04:10 Tracy j Hutchings ©

At the end of the book of St. John (Chapter 21:25), there is this message - "Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written." Now whether you believe that or not; whether you think that is hyperbole or accuracy is irrelevant right now, for the moment i want to focus on what that statement could mean. I hypothesize that for that to happen, every day of Jesus' thirty-three year old earth life must have been a miracle. From 0 months to 33 years old...every day would have to be a miracle of some form to validate the above statement ( "even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written." ). My point: live your life like it were a miracle. Every living day - treat YOU as though YOU are a miracle that is infecting/affecting life all around you.   That's it. Pax. Tracy J H

They say there is no right or wrong but thinking makes it so; I think they’re wrong. but maybe, in a real sense, the chaos [internal/external] that we are seeing is merely the result of a universe trying to align itself right. Nothing further. Imagine, a theist saying such things. be not ignorant, some may say, the devil is real and really behind the crap we notice in our world. Point. But I would rather use this article to ask the question, “Have we thought about balance?” What makes a service going Theist who has been happily [or not so happily] trudging along, get up one morning and decide to switch lives with their non-theist counters? What makes a person who has been “living the experience”, suddenly become world weary and seek out Faith? Notice I said ‘service going’ not ‘church-going’ because the Church is a body of believers in Jesus the Christ, not a building or an organization of buildings. Notice also I said ‘Faith’ and not ‘Religion’ because faith brings us closer to Go...

The prudish kite flies, forever fretting about her tail  being up in the air Genuine Tracy Thought © Tracy j H 21:04:11

Fierce Love Seeks Stable Rock With Anthropomorphic Qualities.  Need Only Apply

The spirit is stifled by food. Every morsel in the substitution process attests to His muffling Sadly He walks away from soul More tired than the body He inhabited. A series of sighs Call out to Him As the new deity eats away Body… Soul. Turn Spirit Turn. Turn to the rescue of Body. Let the tears that became dip for chips Be dried and food become fuel instead of A Substitute teacher Flighty master Before Soul packs its bags and Body its hopes. Turn Spirit Turn Bloated Heart 16:04:11 © Tracy J H

The pretty girl makes a man go further. See her. Want her. Must to have her. What to do? Step up your game? No. Go buy yourself some shoes. Rugged as every man should be. earth tones hold together the stitch that grips every piece of leather. Or… combed thread dyed blue with white or pink laces just to have you in her good graces. The size of the shoe… will make her want you. The pretty girl makes a man go further. See her. Want her. Must to have her. What to do? Open her eyes to hidden truths and philosophies? No. Just buy more tees. One without a logo obvious. Grey blue stripes with accompanying sleeves pulled up to reveal the white swatch watch that tells both time and date. Must not be late. Must not tempt fate when the future of coitus is so near us. Yes please… I’ll take the tees. The pretty girl makes a man go further. See her. Want her. Must to have her. What to do? Lift yourself to a state of godishness? No. Charge $400 to marinate in foolishness. Cause spirit didn’t prep...

a few nights ago i got a blow out from a friend of mine while i sat at the office prepping a presentation. i was following the one self-destructive habit that i willingly follow - i was talking to my ex.... my... friend. now to fully understand the heights of that statement, one must first understand that for reasons known and unknown i have yet to fully get over my ex. i don't know if it's love now but what i do feel is anger at the knowledge that the WHY or maybe the WTF is not fully absolved from me. it wasn't until tonight (thursday) as i watched Criminal Minds [(that mom dvr'd) did it fully hit me that i was experiencing some of the stages of grief. but instead of the classic 1. Denial and Isolation. 2. Anger. 3. Bargaining. 4. Depression. 5 . Acceptance. Grief And Stress, i've thrown all five in the blender and some flavors become more prominent than others. i accepted that she has moved on and i accepted that i could've done more or been better but to b...