No Angel.

So originally, I wrote this piece out of my frustration, but it turned out to be First person Mike Brown. Now I'm going by what I've read and how I feel, but in general theres a message here. I'd call it a tribute, but I'm not 100% sure if it's that tbh... Anyways... Here's a poem regarding Mike Brown

The truth.

The truth is,

I'm nearly obsessed.

It's not 100% but borderline.

Like a macbook that's been charging but the light won't go green

I won't either

not with envy at least.

Not with sick either

Cos I have no reason to be that

Way about you, because we're not a we..

I'm in this alone, it's all just me

I create these things in my head to make me happy.

The past

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!! If you haven't watched Lion King, then you might want to stop here. Come to think of it, if you haven't watched Lion King, why are you here? I think it should be a life requirement. Anyways, recently someone asked for my top 5 movies, and this was one. This scene, is a major contributor to why. 

The past.

'Your future is dependant on your past.'

So commonly we believe that our previous actions

Determine where we end up today.

We believe that a left turn, means left is all we'll know

When in truth it's actually false.

You see in turning left and things going wrong.

We know we can then turn to the right.

And in making a mistake at some odd point,

we learn to avoid it the next.

The past is not the to be a determinant

More so it is actually a teacher

And in accepting this, we grow strong in our faults

And learn how how to not commit them again.

Woman Crush... Lifetime

What may come across as an infatuation
Is no more than intense appreciation
For the female body.
And through these words I give you my eyes,
That you may share my lust for curves.

See, a 'booty' and boobs, is as simple as it seems
But the female body is much more,
From collarbones to hip sways,
Fingernails to straight legs
There's always something to admire.

There's this dream figure we all have,
But it usually exempts the nitty gritty imperfections that women possess.
Some aren't so small, and are open to naked eye.
Other's are only seen when naked to the eye.

The folds of your thick lady, so strong and in place,
From whatever source , they should be embraced
Back dimples or depressions, each to their own
These beautiful in presses seem rested on bone.
Yet nothing of such exists.

My infatuation with the female body might just be a form of decadence,
As it can almost be confused with lesbianism.
But through these words I give you my eyes
That you may gain insight, through appreciative eloquence
of the divine creation that is a female body


I cannot begin to articulate the art that I see when I look
From the the curls on her head, down to her foot.
The  female body.

Let's not forget the hair, in all shapes and sizes,
all textures, all rhythms and flows.
It's response to the wind, brings to light a melody,
that can be seen only within the strands,
dancing and prancing around.

Oh the female body, a perfect imperfection.
The best of the worst, lying in my reflection.
Oh the female body.

The life and times of a writer.

The complexity of writing to a personal extent, but not giving away your emotional content.
This is something I find MANY people struggle with, in the sense that as raw and pure as we wish our writing to be, we still don't want you to know 'what makes us me'.
So we tweak and we twist and it becomes slightly unclear, and for you to judge, then becomes our fear.

'Deep' you know. A comment that has saved us, when people feel they can relate, but they know half of the pain as emotions been slain just to appear as a writer. But sometimes you see, we do exaggerate, when the situations really not that 'deep' so you see it goes two ways.

It's a talent and curse, this writing thing you see. For the normal ways of coping become unclear to me. I feel writing is the cure, yet the cause of all my pain, At the same time it brings a joy I'm yet able to explain. 'But you just have internet access, and put posts online, Your blog is an expanded twitter.' I get that all the time. I don't need to get angry, or owe them an explanation, My blog is who I am, even if it's just for recreation.

One day I WILL be recognised, and this blog will not suffice, to define or explain the journey which I took, but now you're reading this post and others you'll watch out for my book. I must thank those who secretly enjoy and constantly support  and for all the other passers-by (is that a word) I thank you for not  seeing my blog link and thinking spam report.

This is not a poem, although somethings seem to rhyme, but when you write a lot of poetry, you'll understand with time, That words are fun and deep simultaneously, and a writers words aren't truly what they seem. Don't believe me? Fine is this a poem or a rant? A thank you or complaint? Now riddle me that.

Are we talking? Or having a conversation?

Do you guys talk or you just have conversation?

Know before you interact. Cos it affects the other persons interpretation.

Recently, I've come to realise, there's a difference between a talk and a conversation.

Most people fail to realise this and head straight on into communication. 

Words and Ideas and topics come up, with no real substance to the discussion

And even then people aren't aware, that the speaking is merely a form of interaction. 

See when conversation is nigh, there's no solid destination

Any and everything goes, 

It's an exchange of knowledge, or random ass stories or a line of mutual friends one knows. 

But a talk, now that, that holds shed loads of weight

For there's a purpose, an aim, a goal. 

Apology, explanation, update or confrontation

There's something that has to be said. 

The convo* won't end, till the agenda is reached

The problem lies in simple differentiation. 

We lack ability to do. 

And even the party responsible for initiation 

Tends to start off on the wrong foot.

'Can I talk to you' said the man at the bar, when he has no clue of what he wants to say. 

Another problem is clarity in definition.

A misunderstanding of your 'relationship' can do as much damage as emotion.

Are you on that level where you can have a 'deep conversation' 

Or is every word said measured in the context of bants.

The inability to decipher, the strength of the bond leaves one party more enthusiastic than the other. 

Thus when it comes to understanding, two mindsets have been fed, and interpretations different because one party was misled. 

Let's not leave out expectations. 

These are critical in conversation. 

Because regardless of the way we talk elsewise will be heard. 

For someone filled with hatred, they may have developed a dedication to demand that every interpretation is an imitation of the past. 

We set our minds to believe that someone is already bad,

Therefore all the ever say must follow suit. 

They hear no excuses, want no explanation just hold that opinion against them and keep other opinions mute. 

?

I could go on with shed loads of reasons, for what I call misspecification,

But the key is to differentiate between a talk and conversation

Butterfly...

As I opened my eyes this morning, 

I stretched.

I didn't stop stretching.

I expanded myself.

I felt my outer shell breaking.

Is this Freedom?

I thought it was.

A spud of excitement grew within

But I kept on stretching, beyond control

Beyond my reach

Beyond the spaces that I actually know.

For a brief second, fear crept in.

I was scared, scared of the unknown

But it stopped.

The fear, the growth, the breaks.

Everything stopped.

I looked down

I was different.

I was beautiful.

I had features unique to myself 

But common to all. 

I wasn't sure what to do with it.

Then I took a step.

But it wasn't a step. 

I was flying

See I had wings

The most beautiful set I had ever seen

I had no ears for those who didn't believe so.

I took off and began to fly

I flew and flew into the darkest night

See all this while I was in a cocoon 

Sheltered from this world.

Hidden in darkness

In what I thought was my comfort zone

Little did I know there was a plan

I thought I could hide from it

Sleep it away

But it was a process...

A development

And now I fly today.

Today I am a butterfly.

I had no plan on writing that poem. I literally put my fingers to the keyboard and began to type and that all came out. I was gonna go on about how it's summer and how as a graduate and that I'm open to new things and how this blog will reflect that and how I've had bad experiences, and how I've been dwelling in them, hiding from the world, but now I'm ready to use them to grow. That was the point of the post, thats IS the point. And being a butterfly metaphorically represents it all. 

...with a dream

A woman with a dream is viewed as many things.
She's looked up to by those 'below'.
She's placed on a pedestal of role modal expectations
Her every move is watched.

A woman with a dream, is considered as lethal
She'll cut anything or one in her way
She'll strive through it all to achieve the end goal
Her actions are being noted

A woman with a dream is considered feminist
Sometimes not by her choice.
For she stands against what the norm
Her ways depict this at least

A woman with a dream can be seen as selfish
After her own fulfilment's in life
When her family at home don't get as much love as her work
Her decisions are intended for her alone

A woman with a dream is considered conflicted
for society expects other things from her
And while she wants those things as well
Her choices are being judged.

A woman with a dream is over ambitious
She's greedy, selfish and self-absorbed.
Her sole focus is herself, she cares for no one else
Her lifestyle is frowned upon.

A woman with a dream is a struggle to be
For there's too many pros vs cons.
And in a a finding the right balance the dream is lost
Thus is the woman too.

Angel

This is an old piece. From 2010 I think. Just re-discovered it and thought to share. Enjoy. x

Angel*

She crept in the room to check on her child!

And the he lay, so meek and mild.

But the room felt cold, abnormally weird

The atmosphere was dark; so into the cot she peered.

Her baby was blue, still as a stone,

She was right when she felt that something was wrong.

She picked up her baby, a victim of theft,

Her baby had been visited by the Angel of Death! 

Dying Love (part 2)

The first dying love series I did was back in November 2013: Dying Love, I wrote it as part one because I knew there were many definitions to a dying love. Wrote this one about a year and a bit after. But for some reason couldn't publish it. Anyways, read through both and let me know.

Dear someone,

 I'm trying to dettach myself from you, so I refuse to address you by name. I believe this will make thng easier when you part. I'll cut the small talk, because I know you enjoy it, and I'll get to the main point. because you don't deserve it. I hate you. I think you are rude, I think you are obnoxious, I think you are alot of bad things to be honest, but the worst thing you've done is be my friend. How could you do that? People may think I'm selfish for being mad at you, but I think your the selfish one. How could you let us grow so close. How could you listen to all my problems and understand me so well. How could you know the right things to say? How could you know secrets about me that even my siblings didn't know? How could you get mad at me, but make up with me before the end of the day? Why didn't you ever just stay mad and just walk away? You didn't have to return, I'd've lived if you didn't but we went through all those and just grew strong. How could you be the only one to tell me when I was wrong. How coud you be so judgemental yet so understanding.
Why did you steal from me and make me laugh about it? Why did you let us have all those good times? I don't understand, what were you trying to achieve? What point were you trying to make? Now I'm here, looking like a fool, because my best friend has chosen to die. You're not allowed to do this. You can't leave me in this earth. You kept me all to yourself and then just dumped me when you were done? What do I do with your secrets? Or you polka dot top? Do I throw out you iPod , how do I stop?
I love you in a way that no one understands, the kind of way that's weird if we both hold hands, but cool when we hug and kiss on the cheeks but now it just one way as only one of us exists.

I hate you right now, because this is what you've done.
I hate you because now I feel lost.
I hate you to the point that my heart in in pain.
I hate you so much , all I can do is LOVE!



I love you.

Toni.

The man in my head.

The man in my head makes it impossible for me to beloved,
Because by his standards, no man is ever enough.
From his looks to his intelligence, to his passions to his names
All other men are commoners to this beauty in my brain.
I know what job he has, how many kids he wants.
I know his life plans and where we will reside.

Write way to Write.

Oh, I do love the knocks of a keyboard, 
the fingers reach out and pull back to their base
Or the speedy little melody, 
created by the rapid dance of the thumb on the keypad
How technology makes it so sweet.

New Year Posts.

2013 was full of ups and downs. But I chose to remember the lessons from the downs and the joys of the ups alone.

A couple things:
1. In 2013, one of my poems was published in a book, get it here: Write for the future
2. My tumblr has been reactivated: That She
3. Okay I don't have a third one...

Anyway, quick poem for the start of the year...

Apology x

I owe someone an apology and it's just dawning upon me.

All this while I believed the problem was you,
I'd erased from my mind what in fact was true,
That I'd been the one who had actually messed up
And now I was suffering an empty love
I was ignorant mainly in denial
Nd still under belief that we could give things a trial
But my actions were enough to send you away
And now I finally get it

At that point your trust was already minimal,
And I thrashed it to a greater degree.
And I know you might argue otherwise
But that's how it's revealed itself to me.
Nd for this reason I'm taking this opportunity
To apologise... I'm sorry.

Late love

I fell over in love a little to late, and now I'm wondering why.
Why I never took the chance, when I best believed it there. Why I ignored my heart and believed I didn't care. Why I told things about me, but my secrets I never did share and now I'm thinking back in my life.

I fell in love a moment to late for in my mind we should actually be. But I was battling with my inner self and  trying to convince poor old me. That you weren't what I wanted, we just wouldn't be right, but we got on so well, nd things might've been perfect, but I chose to knock that out if sight.

I fell in love, a person too late and now I'm green all over. I was so sure that she, would never take that spot yet I constantly see you together. I should've known not to wait, but I thought I knew best. I thought that time wasting, would put you to the test. So I'm psyching myself that she's just a guest and I'm the permanent resident of your heart.

I've fallen in love and it's just not right, in time or person or place.
And I hurt with anger, jealousy and regret as I see joy upon your face.
But I wish you the best and refrain from sabotage and I sit in the corner clutching my heart.

Having once loved.

Having once loved...

The hardest part of having once loved is having to to stop loving completely. 

What we loved most about the other becomes what we hate in another. 

Shared interest become painful reminders and we therefore cut these loose. 

Thus in losing a person in love, we lose a part of our personalities.

So do we save those we love or save ourselves in trying?

Or are we all for the better in giving up and dying in love with it a loveless personality.

The hardest part of having once loved, is having to watch the other move on.

What we loved most about the other, is now treasured by another.Shared interest become a three-way and therefore we cut these loose.

Thus in losing a person, we lose a potential friend

So do we save ourselves for them or make a couple less

Or are all for the better in giving up and sticking with our best who love us regardless.

The hardest part of having once loved, is having to have strength yourself.

What we loved most about the other, is taken away and we are left less than before
Shared interest become a weakness bestowed upon us and therefore we cut loose.

Thus in losing a person in love, we lose a part of our strength

So do we save our strength or become weak in trying?

Or are we all for the better in giving up and failing in a new love thats weak from the past.

The hardest part of having once loved, is no one will ever relate.

What we loved most about the other, is blind to their eye

Shared interest become weird habits to you alone and therefore we cut loose.

Thus in losing a person in love, we lose ourselves to a lonely land

So do we save our sanity or become insane in love?

Or are we all for the better in giving up and staying with the rest of the world?

                                 ©

Hows!?

These are just a couple of the questions I ask myself...

How do you forget someone that wasn't even there?
How do you fake interest, when you truly don't care.
Well it's not that you don't, it's just you don't want to.
And the harder you try not to, the more you actually do.

How do you hold on to what never did exist.
How do you fight feelings and uphold an emotional resist.
It's not that you don't want to, It's just it's not right that you do.
And the harder you fight it, the more you want it too.

How do you convince yourself that it's for the best, when it's clear that you're in pain?
How do you psyche yourself that it's only ever positive and get back on your feet again.
It's not that you can't, it's just that it's too hard to.
And the harder to try, the more difficult its gets too.

How do you prepare yourself for an unexpected event?
How do you an foresee an unfortunate experience or prevent?
It's not even possible, A thing man can't do
When the future is of what he has no clue.


How?

© Toni Peters

New-Old Post.

Exams are FINALLY over!!! Whoop!!

My brain is STILL recovering from the treacherous knowledge rape it faced but hey, we're surviving. A good weekend with the loved ones and more and now the dreaded lectures resume.

Overall.. it's been a stressful month, for more than 5 different reasons... but there's ALWAYS been a reason to smile.

Writing has been somewhat of a myth but I have an old post for you guys...

Sexes backwards is sexes. ©

You say I can’t play coz I am a girl,
You say you won’t cook because you’re a man.
You say I should stay at home coz I am a wife.
You say you can do anything a woman can.

You justify your lateness because your a female.
You show no emotion in guard of masculinity,
You  suffer your feet just to pass as a lady.
You use your male instincts to vindicate promiscuity

If we do the opposite of these actions
Does that make us men?
If we act as they desire,
Surely we’ll appear to be women

As the power struggle worsens out,
The end result perplexes.
But from above we seem to see, that
Sexes backwards is Sexes.

'He said, She said........Goodbye'

A little fun thing a friend and I worked on....it's two goodbye poems fused.... His name is Oyin Ogunkanmin (@Oyin23 on twitter) and I LOVE his work... Check out al his published ones so far here: Word Artist 92 .

Anyways, the fact that we had no idea what the other was writing made it extremely exciting!! Personally, I loved how it turned out.. but you guys should lemme know how you feel too..

So here it is...

He said, She said……………Goodbye

He said:

My modus operandi, I flash a smile, I care and my words are true

Big mistake, she’s not used to this, waves goodbye, arriverderci

Floods of emotion are held behind a dam of cold hard eyes

“It’s a fool proof method, my coping mechanism, don’t you agree?”

It is often said that actions speak louder than words

And the reality is that these actions hurt much more than words

This she has experienced, She just won’t trust, she has a tough hard exterior.

That's ok I understand your pain, you’ve been hurt so this facade is now your armour

They tell me “be what she had hoped you would be, stop, wait and listen”

But all she knows is that there are too many wolves in sheep’s clothing

I’ve tried but even when I tell you that you are the one for me

All that I can see in your eyes is a nagging doubt, Mon Cherie

Try as you may you cannot shake this feeling of sadness

The time has come to say that routine goodbye; romantic madness, a senseless au revoir

Tell me what has changed in you, because I feel the dreadful presence of déjà vu,

To me this goodbye is an excuse for you to run back to the heartbreaker

His ill treatment and danger, your intoxicating addiction, you are now a serial offender

It makes no sense, you want to feel safe and not shed tears from your beautiful eyes

But yet for no reason you choose that word to say: adieu, goodbye

Then She said:

There was nothing good about our love but it hurt to let you go.
Guess that gaga feeling, bad romance is  a feeling I now know.
You never made me feel complete but your absence made my heart deplete

 and sorrow is all it seems to bear

as you really are no longer there.
I still question the actual cause of our unexpected separation. We were good together, but fate didn't accept, and thought divided we'd be better.
So away we went without discussing what would happen the day that you and I should coincide by fate and meet along the way.
I've found it hard to feel that way about any other person, then I see you happy, and moved on well and your mind free of any burden.
It pains to know I could never bring smiles, towards your face. Mere bants and jokes is as far as I got in meeting your taste.
I don't still love you, the way I did, and I doubt I'd ever go back.
But did you really love me that way too, tell me lies or fact.
We're over now in all types of ways and it’s hard to be your friend, so this is my goodbye adios farewell
We've come to a peaceful end. 

©

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!: 'The reason' of the season.

MERRY CHRISTMASS EVERYONE!

Okay, so by UK time, I'm late by an 2hours + but other places are still in Christmas soo it's all good :)
Lol... Besides, in my household, Christmas day is also the day that my name becomes pleasnt on the tongues of all adults and I'm asked to do all sorts of tasks. And as my cooking is desired by many, the kitchen becomes my bedroom. This year it wasn't so bad tbh, and I love my pressies. Did you have a good one?

Well hope we didn't forget the reason for the season? Yups... Church was where I was at midnight! Lol. Celebrating the birth of Christ... But this post hasn't got much to do with that tbh. It's just a play on words.

This is called the reason, and well, it's my gift to you all this season!  Enjoy. Share. Feedback.

The reason

Feel bad for how you met me

You know it was wrong.

Though unspoken, I should've let be

You and I for the Long

Run, is all I want to do, away from you. 

But the voices in my head argue against that.

Telling me 'you can't do better, he's the best you'll ever have. ' 

And I'm beginning to believe them since all my luck is

'Bad, boys' all I seem to attract. 

Or do I just repel the goods ones in an attempt to not look weak.

Overly bearing, insistingly independent and convincingly confident I seem.

But there's fear and pain and sorrow and anger and so much more within.

So when I do move on, I compare him to you. And the similar traits are a perfect reminder. 

Of what I never made of what I had and

Ponder the possibility of having you back. 

And the next lad is wondering what's on my mind. 

Trying his hardest to submerge into my thoughts. 

But all his efforts are regarded as tries to submerge further under my clothes. 

So here I am barricading my heart and with my legs crossed pretending that's really the truth. 

When deep down I'm ready, for my heart to be open, but the holder of the key seems to be you. 

But you knoweth this not and I live in denial, I can't stand that you've completely moved on. 

So I psyche myself that I'm better than her or maybe I am and now I'm off to the world. 

To start a search in purity and faith but you seem to find your way back or I unknowingly want you or maybe I don't or I subliminally fall into your trap. 

And we talk and we catch up and there's so much to share, I feel like the beginning that you've always been there.

Then we flirt and we tease and something reignites, till you spoil the moment and have to remind 

Me. I'm not the one for you, but that also means for anyone.

Because I'm too damaged to move on, but too proud to move back. 

So I'm on my own little island . Trying to fix me and leave you behind but I don't seem to know how. 

Friendship is impossible and it's too late for us now so my future is without you till I've at least figured it out.

And when I do I'll tell you, not in an attempt to brag, but to be sure I'm strong and you no longer hold me.

To the next you whom I'm now ready to love please understand that it will take time. 

So don't be the other option, help me leave this Island and ill know when we've arrived.

Cos we'll both be able to feel it in all types of ways, our souls, our bodies and mind.

And I may fall overboard and travel away, I promise you I'll return one day,

For through thunderstorms and hail, no matter the season,

You'll bear with me, so long as you understand this reason.

© Toni Peters