I don’t desire to be the other half of your soul.
I want to be the one who prompts you to remember
that you are already whole.
-Tosha Michelle
Tag: love
Fields of Gold.
My cover of Sting’s Fields of Gold.
Choice
By Angela Morgan
I’d rather have the thought of you
To hold against my heart,
My spirit to be taught of you
With west winds blowing,
Than all the warm caresses
Of another love’s bestowing,
Or all the glories of the world
In which you had no part.
I’d rather have the theme of you
To thread my nights and days,
I’d rather have the dream of you
With faint stars glowing,
I’d rather have the want of you,
The rich, elusive taunt of you
Forever and forever and forever unconfessed
Than claim the alien comfort
Of any other’s breast.
O lover! O my lover,
That this should come to me!
I’d rather have the hope of you,
Ah, Love, I’d rather grope for you
Within the great abyss
Than claim another’s kiss-
Alone I’d rather go my way
Throughout eternity.
Next Year
“The Greek word for “return” is nostos. Algos means “suffering.” So nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return.”
― Milan Kundera, Ignorance
“Take to me to where you are,
What you’ve become,
And what you will do
When I am gone.
I won’t forget,
I won’t forget.
Maybe someday,
You’ll be somewhere
Talking to me
As if you knew me,
Saying, I’ll be home for next year, darling.
I’ll be home for next year.”
Transparent Shell
He hides his coldness behind a mask of charm.
His true intentions only to disarm.
Lies escape his lips
That never tell.
He plays the game so well.
He is an obsession
A handsome vision
With one glance you’ll be smitten.
He’ll wrap you up tight in his contradictions.
Fanning the flames
Of your incineration.
-Tosha Michelle
Haul Out The Holly.
May the spirit of Christmas find us .Let it be a balm of comfort and peace, a vessel for love and giving. a beacon of light and hope. May it reside in our hearts forever.
Happy Holidays!
A Christmas message and song from me to you. Followed by an original tune. (work in progress) much like me.
https://soundcloud.com/tosha-michelle2020/the-world-owes-you-nothing-at-all-original-song
Ten Things Women Wished Men Knew. (from the Dear Men files)
I tend to be either deeply philosophical or deeply silly. I’ll let you decide where my mood falls tonight.
Dear Men,
I know you live for my letters. The tips that just keep on giving. In that vein, I present my latest top ten list. Take notes.
1. We women like to be taken but not in a way that requires our fathers to bring out their particular set of skills. You know the ones they have acquired over their long career. No, we want be taken up against the wall, on the kitchen counter, on your desk, etc. We love to feel wanted and desirable.
2. Pet names can be very sweet. However, don’t make them too cutesy. There’s nothing sexy about being called Kissy Kibbles, Schnookums or Licky Sticky Poo.
3. It is never appropriate to call us a bit** or by your ex-girlfriend’s name.
4.You don’t fake foreplay. We won’t fake an orgasm.
5. Ladies first. See number 4.
6. There’s something extremely sexy about a man who can recite Shakespeare while listening to Bach as he fixes a leaky pipe.
7. Be romantic. Note, sometimes being romantic simply means doing the laundry.
8. Listen to us, dam*it
9. You’re adorable when you are shaving, driving, being kind to your mother, holding a baby. etc.
10. Love us. Respect us. Protect us. Do us.
Confessions of a Reformed Southern Belle: A Poet’s Collection of Love, Loss, and Renewal.
My book of poetry, Confessions of a Reformed Southern Belle: A Poet’s Collection of Love, Loss, and Renewal. is now available on Amazon. I would be honored if you read my words. I’m certainly no Whitman. I don’t claim to be. My poetry is simple and a reflection of me. You’ll find a melancholy, introspective, and somewhat snarky woman between the covers of the book. A woman who is no stranger to loss and heartache, but a woman who also has experienced love in its purest form, along with moments of great bliss. This book is an expression of my heart. Is it a work of art? I’ll let you be the judge. I can tell you, it was a labor of love. Be gentle.
I’d like to share the Foreword with you. Note, it was written by USA Today reporter, Ron Barnett.
Foreword
How do you write a foreword for a book of poetry that has you on the verge of tears, then laughter, then soaring through the high places only a true poet can take you? Hang on, and check your preconceptions, because Tosha Michelle is about to take you on a journey through depths of the heart, and you won’t return unchanged.
I have a particular bias in support of this beautiful woman-child, because I am the guy she calls “Dad.” I’m actually not her biological father, but I have loved her deeply since before I married her mother when Tosha was eight years old, and I’m pretty sure she feels the same way about me.
She was always a witty little girl, with an incredible imagination and a talent for storytelling. And growing up, she read – a lot. She had some vision difficulties and would hold a book right up to her nose to read, but it seemed like she could read from cover to cover in a few minutes. I’d like to take some credit for her writing, being a writer myself, but I think she soaked it in on her own mostly, through all that reading she did as a child. She developed a love of words and stories and the worlds they transported her to, and her talent blossomed as an adult.
She also spent a lot of time with her grandmother, and around the good folks of the small town of Walhalla, South Carolina, where she absorbed the Southern culture that marked her personality and writing style. She has broken that mold, as the title of this collection hints, but is forever marked by the richness of the Carolina ambiance. The pathos of love lost early in life, recollection of the pains of adolescence and self-doubt still haunt her sometimes, but she has found her salvation through creativity – through expressing those dark feelings in verse, and in her singing. (If you haven’t heard that, you’re in for another treat.)
I’ve been a writer and journalist for a long time, and part of that time as an editor. When I read material written by others, I invariably find myself mentally editing, changing things around to the way I would have written them. In this collection, however, I found very little that I would touch as an editor. Tosha has an incomparable sense of rhythm and diction and style that are uniquely hers.
I’m no poetry critic, and I am biased in this case, but I think you’ll agree with me that her poetry is for the ages. She’ll take you through the depths of melancholy and loneliness with “Yearning,” and sing a “Love Song to the South” that will take you back to a simpler, more beautiful time. She’ll have you cracking up with a poem about her cat, dancing with her “Goddess of the Night,” and ready to take on the world, with “One Voice.” One of my favorites is her expression of soaring of the universal soul in the Whitmanesque “Edges.”
And everything she writes cries out with the words of the poor little forgotten book on the shelf – Read Me! Go ahead and turn the page.
Upon a Time Once.
A Upon a Time Once.
What once was,
but never was.
A story left untold.
Tomorrow’s forever forestalled.
Today’s regrets,
Yesterday’s dreams.
Memories turned cold.
Lost in bittersweet’s
What could have been
-Tosha Michelle
Stay
Stay with me
And sit awhile
On the porch
In the swing
And sway
With me.
Stay with me
Hold my hand
Sing to me
Tell me stories
Of magic and pixie dust,
Of wrestling with dragons,
Riding unicorns,
Of a valiant prince, and
The damsel he so loved
Of Narnia and Elysium,
Far beyond, the looking glass
Before the Pied Piper plays his tune,
Before the clock strikes midnight,
Before the wolf bares his teeth,
Before the hourglass runs out,
While there’s still time,
To wish upon a star,
Stay with me
And sit awhile
On the porch
In the swing
And sway
While once upon a time
Slowly fades away…
-Tosha Michelle
Dear Men (this one’s for you)
Dear Men,
It’s been awhile since I wrote. In my last letter, I praised you, criticized you, and gave you a few pointers. This note will be no different. See the list that follows.
Tips and dips. You’re welcome.
1. Love us for our hearts and minds, and we’ll rock you with our bodies.
2. Tears are not a sign of weakness. It’s OK to be sensitive (unless you’re crying because you have nothing to wear, or you missed a real housewives episode)
3. There are two places tighty whities belong, on babies, or in the trash.
4. The vacuum cleaner and mop will not bite you. Go ahead, try them on for size. I dare you.
5. Sometimes all we need to hear is “No, honey, let me do it.”
6. Cologne is sexy, but no need to bathe in it.
7. A kiss on the hand at the right time can be quite lovely, at the wrong time, equally as creepy.
8. By all means be the man in the relationship when it comes to killing bugs, or opening jars. We don’t mind.
9. However, never tell us what to do. EVER!
10. We want to be your muses but not in a sleazy photographer kind of way. We long to bring out your inner Shakespeare, not Larry Flynt
11. Withhold nothing. We need to know where all the carbon go, and why prime numbers remain a mystery. I’m looking at you, Riemann hypothesis. Why is it all so weird? Oh and everyone you have ever dated, and what you had for lunch, and how your day was, and what your brother said on the phone. Etc.
12. Your mother was right, manners matter. Prove to us chivalry is not dead.
13. Please don’t tell us to calm down. You calm down!
14. I mentioned this last time but felt the need to reiterate, no, we do not want to see a picture of the little engine that could.
15. Just because your friends might find us appealing, doesn’t mean we want to to be with them. (unless your friends are Timothy Olyphant or Jon Stewart)
16. Please talk about your feelings. We want to know what’s going on in those heads of yours. However, we don’t have to have a come to Jesus meeting or an Oprah moment.
17. Douchebaggerty is never a winning look. Wear compassion and humanity instead.
18. There’s nothing hotter than a man with tools, unless, it’s a man with a book.
19. We like wearing your old college sweatshirt or sleeping in your t-shirt. Prepare to share. It makes us feel close to you.
20. All we need is affection, attention, love, chocolate and a guy with a big…………………………………………………………….
brain.
Until, next time gents,
Fondly,
T.
PS. This guy is sexy.
As an aside, I’m obsessed with this song. Yes, I am channeling my inner 16 year old. No judgement, please.
Taylor Swift “Wildest Dreams” lyrics
He said let’s get out of this town
Drive out of the city
Away from the crowds
I thought heaven can’t help me now
Nothing lasts forever
But this is gonna take me down
He’s so tall, and handsome as hell
He’s so bad but he does it so well
I can see the end as it begins my one condition is
Say you’ll remember me
Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sun set babe
Red lips and rosy cheeks
Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams
Wildest dreams
I say no one has to know what we do
His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room
And his voice is a familiar sound, nothing lasts forever
But this is getting good now
He’s so tall, and handsome as hell
He’s so bad but he does it so well
And when we’ve had our very last kiss
But my last request is
Say you’ll remember me
Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sun set babe
Red lips and rosy cheeks
Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams
Wildest dreams
You see me in hindsight
Tangled up with you all night
Burn it down
Some day when you leave me
I bet these memories hunt you around
You see me in hindsight
Tangled up with you all night
Burn it down
Some day when you leave me
I bet these memories follow you around
Say you’ll remember me
Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sun set babe
Red lips and rosy cheeks
Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just pretend
Say you’ll remember me
Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sun set babe
Red lips and rosy cheeks
Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams
Wildest dreams
Even if it’s just in your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams
Sublime Ends by Tosha Michelle
Remember at the station, waiting
On the train, on that sultry summer day?
We stood lost in an embrace, breathing in
each other that way. that awful, terrible,
perfect mad and delicious way that took us
to the shrouded place.
Remember at the station that day, waiting
on the train, as the wind hummed a lovers tune?
She sang of sublime ends, from supple beginnings.
the alluring medley of serenity in a war of rhyme
on the sharp bloody edge of Neverland and Narnia,
the peaceful enchanting interlude of rage & myth.
Remember at the station, that day, as
the train churned closer and we cussed goodbye
His steam a prelude to our eternal kiss, the sun
soaked, never ending fuel of light, of love, of
heat. Basking and bathing,
merged and emerged and submerged,
Dancing and swaying in time
with golden chariot and the huntress.
Remember at the station that day, as
the train tugged away, on a endless track?
We gazed as it came — as it came — as it went
through the crossroads. We did not know,
our own separate, distant destinations,. Our own
rail-less wild paths cut into unimagined mountainsides
You to the west, me to the east.
Remember the station that day as
the train, conducted our last kiss?
That gaping wound where our lips met. Where
we learned cruel fate is hot love and all love is
the calamity of UN-armored battle. We all go under
wrong or right. Each of us blankets miles and the ground
is nothing but a shifting litter with irascible iridescent hope
and hurt-dulled dreams, unfulfilled plans and schemes.
Remember the station that day, waiting
in twilight until we forgot and traveled on, and on
alone, with only prayers of new Twilight to set
in stony slumber with hard solace of old loves loss
then found again.
-Tosha Michelle
Everything I Never Told You 